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heartthrobin · 9 months

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yellow light (1)

miguel o’ hara x villain!reader

wc: 2.0k

warnings: fem!reader, reader can manipulate electricity, can teleport via lightning, age-gap (reader is early 20's), miguel is emotionally constipated, angst

an: i've been dying to write a villain!reader for a while now and i actually have a lot planned for these two if y'all want to see more let me know <3 remember to repost to support your fav writers !!

summary: Miguel could find you across worlds, across dimensions. he'd only need to look for his yellow light.

part two

evenings at HQ are quiet.

by eight, most spiders have crawled back into the arms of their MJs or their Gwens. and by nine, only Miguel’s heartbeat rings louder than the buzz of computers.

Lyla pops in with an occasional “you should go home” and he ignores her like he does every night. she doesn’t do it so much anymore.

a light flickers against the computer, it pings softly. alert urgent enough to assume he’d received an email. Miguel’s eyes find the notification.

Anomaly detected! Earth-8901!

it wasn’t that anomalies clocked off, like the spiders did.

Miguel sighs, tight and curt. he glances over his shoulder as if there stood a row of spider-people itching to go fight. he finds only his shadow stretching far down the empty office.

Lyla glitches into form, leaning against a mug that had been growing steadily colder since he’d made it and abandoned it an hour ago. “you’d think even anomalies need sleep—”

she taps a couple times on the screen and live feed from Earth-8901 streams across the monitors. it’s a generic scene: police car lights flash, there is the steady rumble of people talking in frantic voices. they’re, unoriginally, in front of a bank.

Miguel rolls his left shoulder back, it’s fruitless in easing the tension there. “go see if there’s anyone still around. they can come help with this before they leave.”

there’s a flash on the screen and Miguel’s hand falls off his shoulder. his eyes find the screen again, they flicker frantically over it.

“wait.” he directs Lyla, hand held out.

between the sirens, he hears it. he could pinpoint it over dimensions and in the crowd of a rock-concert if whispered. that giggle.

yellow light flashes again, a crack of lightning, and you appear on the hood of a police car. you’re keeling over laughing – Miguel doesn’t find it villainous, like he should. instead it warms a pit deep in his stomach.

“oh look,” Lyla folds her legs over each other, glancing back at him amused. “it’s your little girlfriend.”

he doesn’t grant her an answer, he’s focused on your miniaturised figure. it’s blurry, but it’s undoubtedly you.

there’s another crack and you’re gone, bullets fly through the spot you’d just occupied and the police car is a pile of smouldering ash.

“i’ll sort this out.” Miguel says. it’s strained, gruffer than most of what he says is.

“you don’t want back up? i’m sure there’s still some Peters hanging around?” but Lyla’s grinning that wide grin she does when she knows she’s pushing her boss’ buttons.

“no.” the portal spills orange and red and pink light into the dimly lit room. “and you stay here.”

her little hand came to her face, eyes rolling when she offers a half-assed salute. “whatever you say, boss.”

the air is sticky where he steps out onto a rooftop. Miguel feels where the humidity crowds over his face and against his palms, it’s the syrupy warmth that follows where you go.

down in the street below is the image he’d been watching off the monitor. heavily armed policemen were drawing closer to the doors of the bank where you were no doubt inside wreaking havoc.

you had no inclination for money, he knew that, but your chase for chaos? endless.

overhead, a chopper is flying low over the scene. cameras and news-women flock the barricades blocking the street. Miguel rests a hand over the railing, mask crawling up over his head. he is quietly assessing the easiest way past meddling cops when his thoughts are dissolved by a crack. it’s so loud, so close, and the brightness of the light screws his eyes shut.

“what’cha looking at?”

when his eyes open, you’re leaning over the railing. you’re grinning down on the street as if you aren't the cause for commotion.

your dress shivers where you bounce on the balls of your feet. that goddamn yellow doll dress, the villain uniform you insist on donning. it did unspeakable things to Miguel's psyche. the way it fluttered at the tops of your thighs, that your whole clavicle was exposed and just fucking begging for him to run his lips across your shoulders.

your mask is hanging loosely in your hand.

"i thought i told you to stay in your dimension."

you shrugged. your hair was held up by bows of canary ribbons and they swayed where you tilted your head petulantly at him. "c'mon, Miggy, where's the fun in that?"

he's still made no effort to move, head cocked to watch you. your figure swims in his shadow, small beneath his frame.

you were glowing like you did most of the time. a golden light that permeated the dark night air. Lyla once commented that you were a walking lightbulb.

but it's dimmed. you were losing power, wasting it by flashing up to bother him on this rooftop. Miguel knows more about your condition than he needs to.

"they happened to fix the super collider on my earth, so i thought i'd take it for a spin." you speak again.

Miguel's eyes narrow.

you cave, whole body loosening and eyes rolling. "fine. i held a couple scientists against their will and forced them to fix it, but that's hardly what's important."

your words chase each other around his brain. your smile is fracturing, he hasn't heard your little laugh once since you'd appeared beside him.

"why?"

little ribbons swinging, you ignore his question.

"take off your mask for goodness sake." your head lolls to the side, almost against your shoulder. "haven't seen you in ages."

the red and blue mask slips back.

half because Miguel found he could never find it within himself to say no to you and half because he wanted to soak in the view of your face with his own eyes and not through his grainy visor.

he finds it was worth it because you smile again, that smile that could call him home from dimensions away.

"pretty as ever, O' Hara."

"why did you fix the super collider?"

you recoil, like he's lashed at you. your eyes find the street again and you shrug but don't answer him.

Miguel lets the silence permeate. even the ruckus in the street quietens, but he thinks that maybe all sounds do when you're around.

you shuffle your feet until your shoulder finds his side where his arms hang purposelessly. when your skin finds his, there's an electrical snap and he flinches just slightly. you don't mention it.

"don't the lights look pretty?" the commotion still holds your gaze.

trying desperately not to cave into your touch, not to pull your glowing face into his palms, Miguel sucks in a breath of composure. "to rob a bank, is that why? couldn't rob a bank on your own earth?"

"you wouldn't come if i robbed a bank back home."

the sentence hangs. your head finds his side.

"what?" it's barely a whisper, barely a sound, but you catch it.

"i mean," you push yourself off him, voice relighting with that theatrical quality that hid the tremble beneath your words. "i got the hint, you don't like me - you made that clear - but i just wanted to see ya' one last time. you know?"

Miguel hated the voice you put on. it was ungenuine and you used it on cops and other spidermen. not him.

"so i thought i'd do a quick pop in, see if you were around--"

"when did i ever make that clear that i didn't like you?"

gravel of torn brick crunched beneath your foot where you turned to face him again. Miguel found that your eyes were wet, the same eyes that blinked at him when he closed his own.

"i asked you to come." your voice wobbled and it was like a scalding poker meandering between his organs. "i asked you to come. to visit me."

of course he remembers when. it was the last time you'd been dragged from an earth that wasn't yours, when you'd gone for a joy-ride between dimensions really just for the fun of it.

Jessica was clipping some handcuffs around your wrist, the kind that Miguel invented to subdue powers. he remembers how your light flickered all the way out, leaving only the shine that could never rub off your eyes.

despite the metal clipping your wrists, you'd grinned up at Miguel.

"you gonna come visit me, Miggy?" Jessica huffed, tugging you in the direction of the portal.

Miguel didn't like how rough Jessica was being, despised the thought of dark bruises around your wrists, but didn't say anything on it.

he settled with: "it's not good to jump too often between dimensions."

your eyes twinkled. "just once?"

he almost smiled.

"i'll think about it."

you weren't satisfied. "promise?"

he'd nodded. he thought it'd make you go easier. "i promise i'll think about it."

he realised now that it had only made it easier to watch you go.

your shine flickers like a lamp in a haunted house. "i waited. you never came."

it wasn't true.

"yn." he calls out gently across the space dividing your body from his. he takes a cautious step.

it wasn't true that he "never came". Miguel visits your dimension more than his own apartment.

in the moments where Lyla ushers him home, her static voice echoing over his shoulder: "you need sleep", he'd slip out quietly.

sometimes it's morning already, he watches you trip over your feet out your apartment building. you're consistently late to your first class.

other times it's Friday night and you're dolled up, primped in a short skirt and dirty sneakers. you're with other girls, you all stumble together to and from the bar down the street.

Miguel's never had the balls to announce his presence. he quietly enjoys you in the moments you're just ... yn. physics major and perpetual night owl. enjoys watching you at three am when you tinker at your desk with copper cables and wires and entertain yourself with a loose lightbulb where you flicker it on and off and on and off with just a brush of your finger over the glass.

when you've made it home - drunk, but safe - or grown bored of your trinkets and crawled into bed with slow blinks, only then does he conjure the portal and return to his own lonely apartment.

"that's the answer to your question." you're not facing him again. "i just wanted to see you one more time."

this time he tucks his cowardice in his pocket and Miguel moves to you, out from the shadows into the warmth of your light. his chest presses to your back, head finding the side of yours.

you nuzzle his temple with your own, melt against his frame like you were built to be slotted against his chest.

"lo siento, mi amor." words scramble in his mouth. he chokes on all the sentiments he could share. mostly i love you, please ask me again to come with you.

his hand finds your hip, he squeezes the fatty tissue there. you sigh.

your palm finds his cheek, it sparks but Miguel is ready for it this time and doesn't flinch. you nudge his face so it hovers over yours.

"i thought you might say that."

the soft pad of your finger runs over the edge of his jaw. you twist so you're facing him, jailed beneath his wide shoulders and Miguel realises that your lashes are even longer up close.

he nudges his nose against yours. "it's the truth."

your eyes flutter shut, you shake your head.

warm lips press up into the apple of his cheek. his stomach curls dangerously at the wet touch.

"maybe one day you'll prove it then, Miggy." you whisper against his skin.

he leans further down, desperate and itching to catch your lips against his this time, but your palm finds his chest first.

electricity chases down his veins like blood on fire.

Miguel's body is launched with the volts of a bolt of lightning and barely feels where his shoulders crumble through brick and plaster of the building over. he wrestles with unconsciousness and loses, body twitching and spasming from the surge of your power when the darkness envelopes him.

when he comes to, the sun is peaking over the nearest building and you are long gone.

comment and repost if you enjoyed <3

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#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel o hara #fic rec #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv fanfiction

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bored-storyteller · 10 months

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Notes: slight angst/comfort, implied Spider!Reader, someone teach me spanish please

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse, Miguel O'Hara x Reader

When you become his hero

Miguel never demanded to be loved again, and he always tried to avoid loving again, or at least to love in such an intense and exasperated way.

Yet, despite what he likes to tell about himself, Miguel O'Hara is terrible with his feelings. Even the sweetest and most tender ones become heartbreaking and devastating with time.

But in all of this you have been an infinite doubt and at the same time a fixed point since you arrived.

The stereotype of the hero, Jess had called you one day, laughing, because you ran to go and take care of something like moving the boxes of someone you didn't even know, in a dimension not yours.

Miguel had seen you go by without even having time to focus.

"They do it just for the pleasure of helping." Spider-woman had justified your enthusiasm with that sentence.

He'd laughed at it without even really understanding it, but deep inside he'd felt a surge of admiration for your dedication to your task, be it for your being a hero or a human.

In your silence he had seen you several times helping those who came to you. He'd seen you covered in bandages, cradling Mayday after a long day, he'd seen you listening to Peter patiently even though your gaze said you just wanted some peace, he'd seen you high-five the wayward punk kid and he didn't even know the reason. And in all of this you smile, always.

You were always smiling, except with him. Or rather, it's not that you didn't show him your kindness or that you were serious when you were together, but there was a stiffness in your shoulders that he didn't see with others.

"I think they like you." Lyla said.

I scare them, Miguel had told himself, and he didn't blame you, nor was he willing to change that. Maybe he would, maybe he wants to, but the multiverse is so fragile, and you so powerful, and he is so wrong.

Despite what he likes to tell about himself, Miguel is the first one to be a mistake.

He had sought happiness once, he had destroyed it forever, he would never do it again.

And despite what he likes to tell about Miguel O'Hara, there are times when the roaring beast is stronger than the icy hero dedicated to duty.

He can't even say why he screamed, why his claws are stuck in the wall in front of him, in a vain grip, perhaps out of anger or desperation.

"Miguel…?"

Your voice suddenly makes him nauseous. He was alone until a moment ago, you weren't supposed to be there. Why did you come in just then?

There's your touch, your hand sliding between the wall and his palm, you hold him gently, and suddenly it wakes him up.

Miguel O'Hara is really terrible with feelings, they are always so devastating.

"No me mires." He murmurs, his hand covers the fangs and for some reason he wants to hide, he doesn't want to be seen, he doesn't want you to see him.

"No me mires, no me mires." Your delicate grip is undone as he slips away from you, his face pressed into his palms as he takes a step back, away.

He doesn't want you to see him like this but at the same time he thanks whoever he has to thank that it’s you who are there to see him.

Even though his shoulders are close, even though he tends to lean in on himself, he seems anything but fragile. He is huge, almost bestial, yet even if he is strong and big you see him suffering.

"Hey, it's okay. You're cool, really."

He didn’t believe you.

He feels you waver, and he honestly doesn't know how to look you in face, maybe out of shame, maybe out of fear of scaring you more than he already does, maybe because you could read his innermost thoughts that torment him.

You say nothing more, and neither does he. There is silence and perhaps you are gone. He is too agitated to understand it, he must calm down, he must find his demeanor so hated by everyone.

But when his chest fills with air, and his hands slowly drop as he squares his shoulders, he realizes you're still there, silent, a glass of fresh water in your hands.

You reach out to him, almost shyly, and he looks, undecided whether to accept or not. There's confusion in his head, he doesn't know what to admit and what not, he doesn't know what would hurt him more and what would hurt you.

"Thank you." He finally tells you, taking what you offer him.

The water in his throat slides down faster than he'd like, giving him more refreshment than he'd admit.

He leans back in the chair while you retrieve the glass from his hands as if it were natural to do so.

His forefinger and thumb nervously massage his temples, and Miguel knows it's to avoid looking at you, but he can't even admit it to himself. Miguel knows that he should apologize, but doing so would mean discovering that he is weak, and he is not afraid of you, but of himself.

"Hard work?"

It's your voice that interrupts the cold silence, and he looks at you almost moved by that naive, superficial question, which doesn't even scratch the surface of everything he has in mind.

But when his eyes meet yours, he realizes that he is the naive one, that you have entered in him more than he hoped and that this is your way of protecting his fragility, the way he wants.

"Yes I'm sorry." Now it's easy to tell you, now that his wall is intact around him "Why are you here anyway?"

Your lips open to say something, then close again. You think, and then here's your answer: "To help you with your work."

Miguel doesn't remember sending for you, he didn't. Yet he accepts that you put behind the real reason why you came, for him. For once you exist for him, and it's wrong to want it, yet he can't refuse it.

And as he feels you working there beside him, as his elbow brushes yours, he thinks he might be wrong. Maybe the non-canon might be more important than the canon, maybe it might still be happiness for the tragic hero somewhere. Or maybe not.

"Thank you." He tells you again, as he settles back on the semi-reclined backrest. You look at him suddenly distracted, and for once he remains helpless under your gaze, for once he seeks complicity with someone other than him.

You smile at him, and you have to admit that you like seeing him like this.

"Anything you want, boss." You wink, going back to doing that part of the work that he would do, but that he leaves to you just to have those two extra minutes of your presence.

You make him smile. Miguel really smiles, how strange to feel his muscles contract like that. You are sweet, pleasant, reassuring for him.

Maybe that's why you're a hero, a normal, simple hero.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv fanfiction #reader insert #spiderman miguel

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dreampurpledreams · 9 months

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"That's Crazy", chapter 2

A/N: I had to rush to get this out. So if there are any mistakes, tell me.

warning: Spanish may be wrong, Cursing

2.2k words below the cut.

Italics are in Miles head

< Prev //Next >

Miles was watching you.

Not like Stalking you or anything. But he was just…,watching.

It had been about 3 weeks since the two of you had met. Waking up that next morning, recalling the night before, the sense of dread Miles felt was overpowering. Strong enough to make him ignore the soreness on his head, where he had fallen on it the night before. More important than the physics assignment he was supposed to complete that Morning. No, he had bigger things I worry about.

In a hurry to talk with you, Miles rushed his morning routine. Shoving things in his bag without looking, putting his buttons in the wrong holes, not tying his shoelaces (as if he would have done that anyway🙄). He didn't even pick his hair out.

"Why are you rushing?".

Damn, all of this was too much. Miles was so focused on himself, he forgot Ganke even existed.

"I have to go get this girl-"

"Yeah I know, you were supposed to get her yesterday."

"Well now-"

"Here." Ganke slid over from his desk to Miles and handed him a folder. "It's got all her schedule, her room number and all that other jazz."

Oh. "Thanks bro."

"No problem"

Miles still didn't know what to do, Maybe…?

"Actually,-"

"I'm not going to cover for you again, which I did yesterday by the way. You should have been here yesterday to get her yourself."

"It's not that. And telling everybody I had chronic diarrhea is exactly the best cover up."

"I think you should be thanking me instead of complaining."

"I'm not thanking you for telling everybody I had bubble guts."

"Bro, Don't say it like that," his friend said, laughing, making Miles laugh too. "Anyway, how did you know I said that??"

Right, Miles had forgotten again. What is wrong with him? Why can't he focus?

"Yeah, she told me. Last night. When I came in."

"Oh you mean..??"

"Yeah, and she saw me In my suit."

……. Silence. Again with this.

"That's crazy. Well, hope you figure it out." And with that the beanie wearing boy turned to his desktop.

"😦"

"Bro I'm just kidding, but to be honest, I really don't know how to help you"

"Well that helps." Miles said, sighing in exasperation.

"Dude just chill, you'll figure something out. In the meantime, you should probably brush your teeth, class starts in 10 min and you still have to go get [Name].

"What!? No we're gonna be late". Grabbing his bag Miles ran out the door.

"It's really a wonder he hasn't broken his ankles by now", Ganke said, noting that His friend's shoes still weren't tied.

Right now, he's sitting in the library, trying to study. End of the year exams were coming up, and he really needed to buckle down. He had already missed a couple lessons, and was currently trying to learn the difference between longitudinal, and transverse waves. The theory itself wasn't hard to grasp, at least not if it's taught by a teacher. But he was trying to learn it by himself. And all the vocabulary was so similar, it was hard to differentiate between them. Waves, Amplitude, nodes, harmonics, constructive interference, destructive interference. It was all the same to him.

And adding to his stresses, was a little brownskinned nymph was following him around everywhere. And not that he was complaining. He truly enjoyed your company, and even had to stop himself from inviting you to join him. And he wasn't going to pretend he didn't get excited every time he saw you. Just right now, he had other stuff to worry about. But you were the only thing that he could think about when you were around. Even when you weren't there he was thinking about you, but at least then he could regroup himself and get to work. Which was something he couldn't do when you were around. And that so happened to be one of the current problems . Wherever he was, you were there. No matter where he escaped to, you appeared. It was like you had a tracker on him somewhere.

To be honest,his first problem wasn't really much of a problem. But it made his second one all the more present.

Knocking on your door Miles could barely hold back his anxiety. What am I gonna do? How could I be so dumb? Jeez. What if she tells everyone? What if she's a bad guy? No my Spidey sense would go off then. Right? It didn't alert me about Doc Ock Caray. What am I gonna do? Maybe now I should just… Try and convince her she was dreaming or something. I'll just pretend I don't know her. Yeah I'll do that. No you can't gaslight her Miles. That's wrong. Man but I don't have a choice. Right? Maybe I can trust her….. …right? Miles didn't really have time to make a choice. You had opened the door already. Not that he was still thinking about it when the door opened. How was he supposed to think when you were looking like this? Natural face, excluding your glossed up lips. Looking into his eyes with those pretty ones, that had kept him up all night. Blinking at him, lashes mascara free, but perfectly curled somehow, making those eyes even more mesmerizing. "Mornin' laces. Here's my schedule." Laces? Since when was I laces? When did I get a nickname? No wait, I don't know her. "Umm, good Morning. My name's Miles. I'm going to be your student ambassador. Don't worry the office already gave me your schedule and stuff-" "We don't have time for your games Miles, classes start in 5 minutes. Just take mine and let's go". So you still remembered him. Looks like he has to try something else. I mean, Miles could have tried harder to convince you, but honestly….he didn't want to. He would just have to trust you. Or maybe he could tell you it was a costume or something. "So about last night-" "I'm do believe, I have physics 3 right now, but I'm not sure" "I know that but I wanted to tell you-" "Maybe you should check the paper." you said swiftly. Now looking at you, Miles realized you seemed kind of annoyed. Dios Mío. What was so important about this paper? Looking at it Miles could not understand. It had your classes, the classroom number, and the Teachers name. The only thing out of the ordinary on this paper was the note that was written on the bottom. Oh.

[Miles. Thank you for walking me around this week. I know it's your job but I really appreciate it. I hope we can continue to be friends after this. Even though we met in a weird way, and I learned more things about you than I should've, I won't tell anybody about your secret. Sincerely, Your new friend. ]

"Oh". Miles said, talking to you. Or he thought he was talking to you, but you were already up the hall. Looking back at him, you smiled. "Come on lace's, we have 3 minutes left. You need to hurry. But don't trip, we really don't have time for that." Haha. Honestly, Miles forgot you two even had to go to class. He was kinda starstruck by you. I mean you were so pretty, and so obviously smart. You were here, and in Physics 3. Students were only required to take physics 1 in their freshman year. Yet you decided to take one of the hardest highschool classes 2 more times. You even managed to talk to him about being spiderman in a way that was intelligently inconspicuous. Even if someone else found that paper, they wouldn't be able to decode its hidden meeting. It was so enticing. Miles wanted to learn everything about you. And he would seemingly get the chance, considering how you wanted to actually be his friend. Smiling Back Miles followed you to class. Followed… you?? How do you know where the classroom is? He never showed you around. That was… weird. The alarm bells sounded in his head. Against his will. The boy wanted to believe the best, he really did. But it was ingrained in him. All of this was too weird. You show up in his room. Being seemingly unsurprised at the fact he was spiderman. And just readily agreed to keep his secret. It was abnormally perfect. I mean, you were his dream girl. But this, this was beginning to be too much. "Miles!"The boy heard his name. Simultaneous with his 'LOOK OUT!' Message he was receiving from his Spidey sense. Looking up Miles had almost ran into the door of the Physics 3 classroom. They arrived. And you didn't get lost. There was that feeling, eating him up again. "Wake up city slicker. We're here on time, no thanks to you", you told the boy, smiling and lightly pushing his shoulder. "Hahaha. You knew the way…all by yourself." "Yee-ep. Administration brought me here yesterday on the search for you. I tried my best to remember everything while you were blowin' it up". Smirking slyly at Miles with explosion hands, he started to ease a bit. That was a valid explanation. Right?? "T- minus 30 seconds." Doing this weird, robotic voice and.. dance?? (He thinks). Laughing at Miles' awkward smile, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room. "Miles" you said. Looking back at him. Making eye contact. Mi corazón. Lord this girl, it seemed like you knew what you were doing. You were doing everything in your power to draw him in. "Yeah?" "Your Zipper is down."

Soy un idiota. Zipping himself up and then walking into class The bell rang. Miles was.. Scared It was all the same questions he had the previous night, but with all different feelings behind it. Who were you? Why were you here? Why were you at this school? Are you there to hurt him? But the thing that scared him the most, Was the way he forgot about all these things, Whenever he looked into that pretty face of yours.

Miles was back to the present. Remembering where he was and what he was doing. Or supposed to be doing.

Looking around for you, Miles realized you and disappeared.

Where did you go? Did you leave?? No, he felt eyes on him. Turning his head he watched you slink through the shelves.

There was that feeling again. That constant feeling of mistrust he felt whenever you did something questionable.

He tried. He really did. But under all the joking quips, followed by your boisterous laugh. Sweet smiles that made his heart melt. The study sessions turned into video game marathons.

Miles was still suspicious. The premise of friendships, was actually a way to keep an eye on you.

No.

He can't deny the friendship you two have.

He just… What if he's wrong about you?

The way he had gotten attached to you the past couple weeks, it was terrifying. Between all his conflicting thoughts. The way you had seemingly felt the same was even more surprising. Being spiderman was already hard enough. The insecurities Miles felt.

He couldn't measure up. Sure he was way more confident. But your friendship with him. The way you had find out about his secret. He just felt so…

Irresponsible.

But really he couldn't think about that now.

Currently you were behind him. Attempting to sneak up on him?

He hoped that's not what you were doing. You were terrible at it. Miles could feel the humor bubble up inside him. Did you really think you could sneak up on him?

Why were you sneaking up on him anyway?

What did you have planned?

The teen superhero prepared his body for…something.

Secretly keeping his eyes on you. Miles pretended to be into his book. When you finally got close to Miles, you stopped.

Moving your hands towards his… neck??

Quickly reacting, Miles wrapped his hands around yours, and looked up at you.

You started, Laughing?

"Dadgummit, I thought I was gonna get you."

Letting go of your hands, Miles felt, sheepish. What was he thinking?

Miles needed to get himself together.

Playing it off with as a joke, he laughed.

"Did you really think you could get me??"

"Well you had your headphones on so…"

Grabbing his things Miles started to walk towards the door. With you immediately following behind him.

"Nah. I gotta stay ready, you never know when danger's around the corner." The boy said all mysteriously. Looking down at his friend as the two of you exited the library.

"Or maybe, you're just paranoid". The girl told him, looking back, up at him.

You don't say, Miles thought to himself. Pushing away the thoughts of what could have happened.

I mean it was fine. He just…

Overreacted

Yeah. It was just him.

Right??

Taglist @mintkookiess @ladeeznutz

Dividers @/saradika

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littlemochabunni · 10 months

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. 🎀 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 🎀 .

This list is all of the amazing writers I’ve read and wanted to make this list to not only show my upmost gratitude for all of these extraordinary people but to also find these stories easier outside of my drafts.

Pleeeease make sure you like, reblog, and comment on these writers works! These amazing creations deserves so much love! ♡

I do not own any of the works listed below.

Jujutsu Kaisen

Modern Warfare 2

Last of Us

One piece (coming soon)

The Gray Man (coming soon)

The Witcher (coming soon)

Spider-Man across the spiderverse

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miggyyyyohara · 10 months

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AY PAPI- I MEAN DADDY please- i mEAN SIR!

Follow this artist on Instagram @ narutoss.ramen 🫶🏻🤌🏻

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 10 months

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thinking of miguel kneeling on the floor as he eats you out:

(18+ mdni, fem!reader)

☆ had this idea last night and just HAD to write about it

- filthy drabble below cut -

miguel would kneel on the ground between your thighs with his face buried in your cunt, his tongue laid flat over your pretty pussy, lapping your folds as he gazes up into your lust-filled eyes. there's no other person he'd kneel for than you, no one else he'd worship or cherish.

his large hands would be firm as they rested upon your hips, keeping you sturdy as he worked over you with the point of his tongue, caressing your sweet cunt in the way he knew you needed. you’d look down at him with puffy swollen lips, an eager glimmer in your eye as you watched him eat you out, studying the way his mouth moved so effortlessly over you. his gluttonous groans would hum against your folds as his hands graze down to your ass. his fingers would squeeze and knead into the soft doughy flesh of your cheeks as he pushed your cunt further into his face.

he’d hike your leg over his shoulder, holding your thighs and waist to balance you- keeping you stable as he laps over you, muffling into your pussy about how good you taste.

your pretty desperate little cries into the air would only egg him on more, and your grip on his roots would tighten. your breathing would grow strained and strangled, and it would all feed into his ego. he loved to make you feel good, but he loved it even more when he could see just how good he made you feel.

he'd nuzzle his face further into you, gripping your hips and thighs tighter when he felt your leg shake, holding you balanced to stop your body giving up from under you.

he’d barely part from you, whispering softly against your clit with a devilish look in his eye. "cum on my tongue, cariño. I want to taste you on my lips."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

#miguel o’hara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara fic #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x fem!reader

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ichorai · 11 months

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snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst

warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)

a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!

main masterlist.

You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly.

When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow.

“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.

Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.

“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

A beat of silence.

“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard.

You took a step back. “My universe…?”

After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”

You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best.

But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.

It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.

Right?

“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him.

The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto.

Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you.

“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!”

Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.

“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”

Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air.

Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view.

“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless.

Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.

Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples.

Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense.

Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.

Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”

A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit.

“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”

“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.”

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal.”

With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.

“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”

You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained.

“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.”

There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.

You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”

Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.

If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.

“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”

The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.

“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.

“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”

“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression.

“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”

You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!”

His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”

“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”

With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out.

“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”

Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”

Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.

Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”

To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.

“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence.

You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”

The months pass by in a blur.

You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him.

“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier.

“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”

You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.

“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”

With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”

The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal.

Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.

As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip.

“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.

Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”

Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.

Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.

But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.

Then there was you.

It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.

Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—

To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.

It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face.

“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”

“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”

“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”

Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”

Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps.

You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.

“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.”

“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”

You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”

“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!”

You blinked.

“What?”

Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.

“What?” he parroted.

“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”

“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?”

Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”

You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.

Miguel was crazy about you?

After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).

“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”

“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.

He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”

“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”

Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”

There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.

“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago.

You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips.

With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.

“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”

A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.

The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?”

Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.

Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.

You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite.

“Oka—mmph!”

His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper.

When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.

“He was right,” said Miguel.

“Who was?”

“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”

At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”

You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”

His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you.

When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.

He was falling in love with you.

The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfic #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara #spider-man 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv fanfiction

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liliacamethyst · 11 months

Text

Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)

Sequel to Web of Secrets

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.

Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.

You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”

“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.

“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.

The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.

Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.

And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.

So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.

As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.

You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.

Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”

But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.

He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.

“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.

“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”

“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.

The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.

You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.

“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.

“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.

You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.

You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.

"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.

Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.

As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.

Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.

You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.

In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.

His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.

"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.

"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”

He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.

"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."

He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.

"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."

"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.

You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"

He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."

“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.

“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”

“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”

“To be forgotten,” you whisper.

He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.” He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.

Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.

Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.

He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates.

Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.

But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.

But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."

"I know," he replies curtly.

Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"

“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.

There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.

Lyla, for once, remains silent.

3 months later…

Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.

For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.

The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.

The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.

"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.

He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.

Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.

In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.

As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.

His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.

“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.

“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.

“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.

“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”

“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.

Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."

"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.

“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.

“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.

“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.

“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.

The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.

You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”

She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."

You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.

"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.

You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.

"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.

You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."

You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."

Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."

You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.

"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"

Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.

"Strange how?" you prod.

"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.

"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.

"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”

Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.

“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.

You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.

Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”

4 months later…

Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.

“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.

“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.

Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.

“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.

“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”

You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.

“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.

You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."

Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”

“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.

“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.

“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.

You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.

Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.

As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him.

“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.

Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"

Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."

“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”

With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.

1 year later...

One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.

At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.

Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.

Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;

Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.

“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.

Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”

Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.

Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.

“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”

You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.

In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.

“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.

“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.

Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.

Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.

“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.

Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.

Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.

Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.

Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.

Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”

Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."

Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.

"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."

Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?”

Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."

Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”

Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.

Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.

You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.

"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.

“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.

Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.

Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”

Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”

Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.

As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.

The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.

Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”

Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”

Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.

Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.

Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.

The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.

“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”

Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.

“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”

Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"

a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.

Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM

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feralgirlfeelings · 4 months

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miguel o'hara breeding kink smut cause i'm ovulating rn

pairing: miguel o'hara x female reader

tags: established relationship, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, little bit of dumbification, little bit of orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex, female reader, afab anatomy, dom!miguel, oneshot

SO NSFW. minors dni!

spanish to english translations are at the bottom :)

word count: 992

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he has you lying down with your ass up, pillow under your hips, and a firm grip on your hips. he whispers sweet nothings into your ear and about how much he wants to fuck you.

miguel slides his thick, hard cock in between your folds, soaking in your wetness, before lining himself up at your entrance. he slowly pushes into your tight cunt.

"fuuuck, i missed this," miguel groans, holding back the urge to plunge deep inside you. you bury your face into the sheets as you feel the mild ache of being stretched out. he continues to slide in until he reaches the hilt, his tip pushing against your cervix.

he pauses to give you a moment to adjust to his girth. you feel so full, you can barely breathe. "go slow miguel, you're too big," you whine.

he chuckles, "lo estás haciendo muy bien, cariño." he starts to pump into you, straining to keep a slow pace. your heavy breaths and soft moans fill the room.

as he slowly thrusts his dick into your tight cunt, the previous sting of being stretched transforms into a throbbing pleasure.

you feel a coil start to form in your lower abdomen and your moans start to get louder, his gentle pace no longer being enough for you. "mm, fuck me harder, miguel," you plead.

"anything for you, my princesa." he tightens his grip on your hips as he drags his dick out until his tip is just slightly kissing your entrance. he then slams his hips against you, driving his cock so deep inside you, you swore you felt it in your stomach.

you weren't prepared for the sheer power that this man is fucking you with. he thrusts into you at a dizzying pace and you can barely choke out his name.

"te sientes tan bien." he slaps your ass, delivering a sharp sting that makes you inhale sharply, "fuck you're so tight." he grabs your asscheek, groaning at the site of himself sliding in and out of you.

you moan in response, barely comprehending what he was saying. you were so fucked out of your mind and could only focus on the orgasm that you were so close to having.

just as you feel yourself almost reach your peak, miguel pulls out, leaving you empty. your poor walls clench around nothing. "miguel!" you whine in protest, "put it back in!"

he grabs your hips and flips you onto your back, settling himself in between your legs. "i want to see your pretty face when you cum." he separates your folds with his cock, rubbing against your sensitive clit. you wrap your arms and legs around him and he buries his head into the crook of your neck, before plugging you back up again.

all you can do is mumble his name over and over again as he continuously rams into you. every pump delivering mind-numbing pleasure. the orgasm you were robbed of had crept back, and once again you felt a tightness in your stomach.

"i'm gonna fill you up, fuck a baby into you," he groaned in between the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your soft flesh.

his words drive you crazy. the thought of being stuffed full of miguel's hot, thick cum brought you closer to the edge. he knows you're close, so he pounds into you faster and harder, chasing your release.

pressure builds until you feel the tension wound in your stomach burst. you cry out his name as your walls contract and you cream around his cock. he groans at the feeling of the added slick and your pussy squeezing around his dick.

he doesn't stop after you come down from your high. "you did so good, mami," he whispers in your ear, "ahora es mi turno." he holds you in place by your hips and fucks his dick into you, driven by a primal desire to fill you with his seed.

you're overstimulated and fucked out, your body limp and your eyes rolled back. all you could think about was how badly you wanted to be bred by miguel. "m-miguel," you stutter, "breed me. p-please."

"te voy a llenar con mi semen, te voy a follar hasta que estés embarazada. you're gonna make such a pretty mommy. f-fuck—" his thrusts get more erratic as he inches closer to his peak. he groans out your name before slamming your hips down onto his dick. he shutters as he releases thick ropes of cum into your desperate cunt, flooding your velvety walls. all you manage to do is let out some strained moans. nothing mattered more in that moment than you taking his seed. he makes sure to stuff his cum deep inside you, his tip jamming the entrance to your fertile womb. he pauses for second to catch his breath, before slowly rolling his hips, just to make sure he gave you every last drop.

he stops thrusting and collapses on top of you, but keeps you plugged up with his dick. his excess seed starts to dribble out of you. you're both panting, sweaty, and exhausted. he moves the hair out of your face and meets your lips with his for a gentle kiss. "look what you do to me. me vuelves loco, cariño,"

you let out a weak giggle, "you want my babies?" you ask playfully. you tangle your fingers in his hair, lazily combing through his messy locks.

"yeah," he returns a chuckle, "you're too pretty to not breed." he starts peppering your face and neck with pecks. "eres mi bonita esposa."

"i think you'd make a great father," you smile warmly and interlock your fingers with his. "you know...usually it takes a few tries before it takes."

"oh?" he asks amusingly, "well, i guess i'll have to fill you up again."

you feel his dick start to harden again inside of you. you brace yourself for another round.

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translations: ("lo estás haciendo muy bien, cariño" -> "you're doing so good, sweetheart") ("te sientes tan bien" -> "you feel so good") ("ahora es mi turno" -> "it's my turn now") ("te voy a llenar con mi semen, te voy a follar hasta que estés embarazada" -> "i'm gonna fill you up with my cum, fuck you till you're pregnant") ("me vuelves loco, cariño" -> "you drive me crazy, sweetheart") ("eres mi bonita esposa" -> you're my pretty wife")

hope you enjoy!!! >:0 btw this is my first time writing a fic that included dialogue in spanish, so idk if things are all well-written or gramatically correct. i tried to take some tips from spanish-speaking miguel o'hara enjoyers, but if anyone wants to correct anything or give me tips, i'm super super open to it!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #atsv fanfiction #spider man 2099 #miguel atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #female reader

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yeollie-plz · 5 months

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Fill

Miguel O’Hara x F! Reader

Synopsis: You babysit Mayday, it puts thoughts into Miguel’s head.

Genre: smut!

Warnings: smut, 18+, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pregnancy kink, p in v sex, kissing, biting, fingering, choking, spanking, daddy kink slipped in there at the end

Gif credits to owners!

Miguel was expecting to come home to his beautiful wife, eat some food, maybe make love to her, and bask in each other’s warmth until they fell asleep. What he sure didn’t expect was to come home to said wife babysitting Mayday for Peter. You might have forgotten to mention to Miguel that you were babysitting tonight.

Honestly, you didn’t mention it because you didn’t want him to say no and Peter and MJ really needed the night out. No baby. So now you and your husband were going to have a night in. With a baby.

To say Miguel wasn’t thrilled would be an understatement. He was borderline angry with you at the “slip” of your mind. It’s not like Miguel hated Mayday in any aspect but the thought of you holding a baby brought up strange feelings inside of him.

He had tried for the year that Mayday has been around to try and push those feelings down. But every time he saw you even glance at the baby had him all in a fit. Miguel didn’t think he’d ever be ready for a child again, but seeing you so motherly was changing his mind.

I mean, he didn’t think he’d ever want to get married again and there you were changing his plans.

You two have had the baby talk before, as well. You were always so understanding of his past and never pushed him too far. But he did notice the disappointment on your face when he had said he never wanted kids.

Never? Why had he said never? It was such a harsh conclusion and in recent months, it was one he was regretting making.

He could imagine you now, belly full of his seed, a prominent bump showing what the two of you had made.

Shit. He needed to get those images out of his or he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

Shaking his head Miguel retreated to the kitchen, leaving you to continue to play with the baby uninterrupted. Busying himself with looking through the cabinets, like he wanted to cook something.

“Miggy?” You questioned as you entered the kitchen, Mayday perched on your hip. He turned and took in the sight, imagining what a mini you would look like. He sighed.

“Did you want me to make you something to eat?” You were trying to read the look on his face.

“No.” He grumbled and pushed pass you and into the living room.

“Miguel, I know you’re mad that I didn’t tell you. But it was an honest mistake. Plus, you know I love Mayday and since we-“

“Don’t.” He cut you off. Your mouth snapped closed at what you were about to say. Before you could apologize Miguel made his way to the bedroom, slamming the door closed behind him. You blinked in shock, you didn’t want to start a fight in front of poor little Mayday. This would have to be brought up later.

It was nearing the time that Peter was supposed to arrive to pickup Mayday. You were a bit sad to say goodbye to her but you were also exhausted. Suddenly, you understood why Peter didn’t even change out of his pajamas most days. Especially with a spider baby!

She stuck to everything! And being someone without powers, your knowledge on the matter wasn’t very strong. Sure, you knew a lot about Miguel’s powers but he was what…Spider-Man number 30 out of 1 million? You wished you could ask Miguel for some help.

Eventually you figured out the best way to unstick Mayday was to distract her. Show her a toy, play peekaboo, maybe give her snack. Anything to keep her hands busy and off your ceiling. You hadn’t heard Miguel much through the night. You figured he had gone to sleep or was silently doing some work.

When you agreed to watch Mayday, you hoped the two of you would be able to do this as a team. But obviously, that thought was all wrong.

Peter came about 30 minutes later, knocking on your door. Miguel heard the door open, a few words being exchanged, and a rush of thank yous as the door shut once again. In a few quick steps you were moving across the house and throwing open the bedroom door. Miguel’s wife was not happy.

“Really Miggy? Slamming my doors now?” Usually the tone of her voice would make Miguel instantly apologize but he was too wound up to care.

“Yes I’m slamming our doors!” His voice was slightly raised as he gave a lackluster response, cringing at himself.

“All this and because I decided to help Peter out! You know they never get to go out. We are their friends Miguel, we should be helping them out!”

“I don’t mind helping out our friends, but this favor…I just.” He groans, running his face across his face and through his hair. His usually tight posture, slumping in exasperation.

“What Miggy? What is so aggravating about that little baby?” Your hands were on your hips, face turning red with your increasing anger. He was not going to get away with throwing this tantrum.

“It’s not the baby that is aggravating! It’s me seeing you with the baby!” His eyes soften as he admits the truth.

You were shocked, not understanding the meaning behind his words, “I’m the aggravating one?”

“No! Mi amor, it’s how I can’t get the thought of you round and pregnant out of my mind. The image of you running around chasing a child that we created. I thought after everything that I would never want that again but…”

It finally clicks, “You’re mad we don’t have a baby!”

“I’m mad I’m not inside you right now putting a baby in you” His eyes darken and rake across your form.

He crosses the room in three long strides, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling your body into his. His lips ghost along your neck, his hot breath creating goosebumps on your skin.

His mouth reaching your ear, whispering, “Do you want that? Want me to get you pregnant, baby?”

You can only whimper in response, which eggs Miguel on further, finally connecting his lips to yours. Desperation coats the kiss as he basically devours you.

He nips at your lower lip, pulling away. Looking down at you he takes a step back, your body reacts instinctively and tries to close the distance again. He stops you by cupping your clothed core. A strangled noise passes your lips as he uses his other hand to pull your dress over your head.

“Mmm, wore this like you knew I’d want easy access. Always so eager for this cock, hm?” His deep voice and words cause you to get even wetter.

The hand on your core moves a bit to tease you. He feels your wetness, moaning in satisfaction.

“I might not even need to prep you, baby. Wanna breed you like you weren’t meant to be bred.”

His hand grips your neck leading you towards the bed. The hand now makes it way behind your neck and brings your lips to his once again. The force causes you to moan.

“Why don’t you get on all fours for me?” He says it like a question, but you know it’s a command.

You do as you were told and get onto the bed on your hands and knees. You let your knees naturally rest a bit apart, knowing that he will just adjust you if he needs it. A hand runs down your spine, sending a shiver down with it. It reaches your ass and gives a squeeze before landing a firm smack there. Suddenly you hear a rip and feel your wet core exposed to the cool air. You glance down realizing that he had torn off your underwear.

You gasp, “Miggy!” Usually you would’ve found this extremely hot, if those weren’t your favorite panties!

“I’ll buy you new ones. Besides until you’re pregnant you’re not leaving this bed. You won’t be needing panties for a while.” Okay, now it’s hot again.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond and inserts a finger inside of you. He pumps the finger in and out quickly, testing how wet you are.

“Already all wet and ready for me. Just how I like you.”

Quickly, he pulls the finger out and before you can even protest at the loss he pushes his dick fully inside of you to the hilt. Another gasp passes your lips at the intrusion. He gives you no time to adjust before setting a pace, ravaging your body with his thick cock.

He continues his assault, pushing deep inside of you before pulling out almost completely and repeating the action. The force of his thrusts are making it hard for you to think, let alone hold yourself up. But when you start to fall to your elbows, his hand is quickly wrapped around your throat holding you up.

“Have you at the perfect angle, can feel all of you.” Is all he says as his fingers tighten on your throat. Your vision goes black from the intense pleasure.

He fucks into you harder as the pressure of his fingers releases slowly, letting some air back into your lungs. When you have enough air, you are moaning out as a particular thrust hits the perfect spot.

“Miggy please, need you to make me cum. Need your cum in me.”

His large body incapsulates yours at your confession. The hand that was on your throat makes it way down to your clit, rubbing circles into it. His teeth bite down into your shoulder, sending a shock of pleasure through you as you cum hard onto his cock.

The clenching of your orgasm causes him to groan and falter a bit, before he regains his head and pace.

“Mmm, gonna cum in you baby. Gonna make you a mommy.” He says as he shoots his seed into your awaiting womb. His orgasm seems longer and stronger than usual as he bites your shoulder once again.

After he recovers, he releases your throat, letting you fall into the plush sheets. Miguel slides out of you and pulls your body into his. He rubs your back in slow circles, calming you both down.

Eventually you speak up, “So what do you think? Think it worked, daddy?” Lust drips from your voice at the name.

“Fuck, maybe, and even if it didn’t I’m ready to go again. Just want you so full of my cum that you can feel it with every breath.”

And fill you he did.

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zairene · 10 months

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misc. earth 42!miles morales bf headcanons. <3

warnings: some fluff.

author’s note: i had no idea what to write specifically so i just wanted write some random miles hcs that i had conjured up in my head. ngl this is definitely one of my weaker written pieces, but i still wanted to get it out regardless. </3

miles is very touchy. some part of his body has to always be touching yours. you both could be sitting down—his hand would be on your thigh or his arm is around your shoulder. you both necessarily don’t have to be directly next to each other. he could be sitting in at his desk, playing his game while your legs are in his lap. (he put a chair next to his so you could be comfortable.)

while cuddling, miles is big spoon. he doesn’t have any against being little spoon, he just likes feeling like he’s protecting you. but if you insist on being big spoon, he’ll cave in after you give him a kiss or two.

speaking of kisses, miles goes weak from that. his favorite places to kiss you on is either your forehead, lips or cheek. (sometimes your jawline too) he initiates kisses most of the time but whenever you do, he can’t help but melt in your arms instantly every time.

miles always indulges in hearing you talk. he could never pinpoint it, but he was in love with your voice. you could be over the phone or in person. you could be rambling about something but then you just stop because you notice the way he’s just looking at you. he hadn’t said anything since you started talking, he just was staring at you with admiration. you would ask him if he was listening to you, and he’ll reply with a, “sí, estoy escuchando.” (yes, i’m listening.) with a slight head nod.

miles is definitely a “yes ma’am” dude. if you tell him to do something, he does it. it’s honestly kinda scary how he’ll listen to your every word. you both could be in public and you notice that your shoe string is untied. you nudge him with your foot and politely ask if he could tie your shoe. he’ll literally bend down and tie it, no questions asked. his mom could walk up in his room, saying something along the lines of, “miles, what are you doing? esta habitación es un desastre!” (this room is a mess!) and tells him to immediately clean it up before she takes his things and not allow you over until he does. after she walks out, he’d shrug and say that his room isn’t even dirty, but once you tell him to clean it he’ll immediately get up and do it.

miles’ love language is quality time. he loves spending every hour of every day with you. and when he’s not with you, he’s in not in a particularly good mood. (he refuses to talk to anyone but his parents) not saying he cannot live without you, no that’s not the case. he‘s just a grumpy kid who just misses his girlfriend. he hates school weeks but loves weekends. and whenever it’s summer, he’s just glad he can spend it with you.

TAGLIST :: @kisamekiss @kazuminari @planetlunaa @mypimpademia @megurulvr @dreampurpledreams @chinieh @naijagrl @looking4chanel @pixieplush17 @jogeto @laylasbunbunny @jamies-cumslut @sapphicshav

TAGLIST FORM

#[♩] irene’s works.#spiderman atsv fanfiction #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv x black reader #spiderman atsv x black fem reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black reader #miles morales x black fem reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black reader #earth 42 miles morales x black fem reader

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heartthrobin · 9 months

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blue light (2)

miguel o’ hara x villain!reader

wc: 4.9k

warnings: fem!reader, reader can manipulate electricity, can teleport via lightning, age-gap (reader is early 20's), miguel is (slightly less) emotionally constipated, angst, swearing, jealous miguel, stalkerish behaviour, reader is a bit of a meanie (she's a villain after all), drinking, classic college kid shenanigans, implied one night stand, reader is highkey stubborn (she’s been hurt let’s not judge), happy ending this time i promise

an: next part to yellow light! i hate leaving stories with an unhappy ending so i had to work this out :) also the taglist was formed from this post before anyone asks again. remember to repost to support your fav writers !!

summary: someone's following you. you can feel it. like tiny spiders crawling over your shoulder when you sit too still.

part one

jumping between dimensions is exhausting work.

fuck what any spider-person had to say, they have fancy little watches that let them drift between earths as they pleased. they should try falling through a super collider every once in a while, not to even mention the glitching. like every molecule in your body is being ripped apart and reattached with wet wood glue.

and all that pain for a man. the notion makes you sick.

fuck Miguel too. fuck him especially.

you'd blasted him through the concrete face of a building in spite. the thought made you chuckle. he deserved it, that bastard.

when you returned from earth-8901, you slept over most of the next few days.

only closer to the end of the week had you dragged yourself from the depths of your bed to class. assignments glared at you from under the hood of your shut laptop and the professor's voice drifted over your head where it was hunched down over the scribbled outline of a scheme to cut power across the city.

you sketch a tiny little you in the corner, if you were a better illustrator someone may have been able to make out the tiny figure laughing maniacally at the panic she's induced.

scheming is fun. it lets you forget for the red and blue shadow that haunts your mind, if only for a few minutes at a time.

there's a coffee shop on the route back to your apartment and inter-dimensional travel has you jet-lagged enough to push it's doors open. a chime fills the space.

you stop most days just for a coffee, if you've made a recent hit at a bank on the other side of town you'll spoil yourself to a sandwich or a smoothie. but as it turns out, the money on earth-8901 is all purple bills. useless memorabilia hogging space on your study desk.

behind the counter is a fresh face. a handsome face.

he smiles at you and it's dazzling enough to prompt you into returning it. there's a name-tag against his black work shirt, Tobey, and he has dreads pulled up into a bunch at the top of his head.

you lean over the counter more than you would normally and his eyes follow your figure where it's divided by the countertop.

"hm. first week?" you prompt.

"indeed."

"how's it going?"

his eyes wash down your body again before returning to your gaze. "well. very well."

when you leave the shop there's a number written on the side of your cup with smudged black marker and a "give me a call -Tobey :)"

the ink stains the pads of your fingers. you consider the number the whole walk home.

by the time you reach your door, you've decided that you'll be calling him. that it's a good idea to start engaging with men in your dimension, as opposed to six foot nine assholes with sturdy shoulders ... and swirling brown eyes ... and a soft temperament despite how desperately he tries to hide it--

you slam your door, leaving that thread of thought on your welcome mat.

New York has already dimmed to a fuzzy black, perforated by city lights of every colour when you perch yourself on the edge of your bed. the city hums and the tune drifts in through your open window.

your cup from earlier is empty where you hold it up and dial the number written against it.

it rings twice before a static voice carries over the line. "hello?"

"Tobey?"

"speaking."

you tuck your knee up against the bed. in the low light, your glow emanates into the space. "i just called to say that i think you accidentally wrote your number on the side of my cup."

he chuckles. it's hard to make out, but then again most calls are tough when you're holding the phone with the same touch that could cut power to the pentagon.

"not a mistake, sweet-cheeks."

your nose crinkles. you hope the nickname isn't gonna stick.

but you press on, "that so? well, pray tell. why am i phoning you?"

"you're phoning so we can talk about when i'm taking you out."

"usually that discussion is preceded by actually asking me if i want to go out with you."

"i'm sure that--"

there's a crunch beyond the window.

the unmistakable crumble of concrete, accompanying dust cascading to settle on your sill in a tiny pile.

you squint, your apartment is on the eleventh floor. there's no way anyone could--

the phone falls, clattering to land across the dial.

spider-man.

your palms warm, you feel the surge of power rising where it's settled most days just beneath your skin. fingertips prickling with electricity, desperate to come reaching out - the bedside lamp dims as you brighten. your light casts shadows across the room.

"uhm, hello?" the abandoned phone still hums.

you creep towards the ledge before leaping at it, knees connecting with the sill. your eyes chase around the view beyond the window.

the night is still. there's no sign of movement beyond the people down in the street.

just above your window, the source of the noise, there's a gash in the brick. four gashes, to be exact. like an animal had ripped into the stone, like ... like claws.

your heart sinks into your stomach. the night is still unmoving.

it's thursday afternoon and the sidewalk is busy. you think that if one more person knocks into your side you're gonna zap them across the street.

Tobey hasn't showed up yet.

"how's thursday? some lunch, twelve o' clock?"

it's already half-past. you think hard about zapping him too, the face he'll make when he's swallowing scalding hot mouthfuls of electricity.

as if drawn from your thoughts, Tobey's figure is bumping people down the walkway. he's jogging, panting between an apology as he nears.

"i-i'm so sorry," he's hunched over, hands on knees. "my car was totalled ... i had to call the cops and sort out a bunch of stuff--"

"you got into an accident?" your voice is more curious than concerned.

he shakes his head. "no, an animal. last night an animal or something attacked my car, it's completely wrecked."

you squint at him. "an animal? we live in Manhattan."

Tobey straightened out. "yeah, go figure. giant claw marks and everything, the car was on it's head when i found--"

"claw marks?" your interest peaked.

the sound at your window.

"yeah. the thing must have been huge, it flipped my car." he nods. "and the security cameras were malfunctioning over the time that it happened so i can't know for sure ..."

there's only one creature you know personally, the kind that lurks on New York rooftops, that can inflict that kind of damage.

you don't allow yourself to think any more on it. Miguel hasn't come to your dimension before, he's not starting now.

and here to do what? wreck Tobey from the coffee shop's car?

the thought settles the bubbling in your core.

"well. are we still getting lunch?"

nearly a week passes and the thought of Miguel haunts you no more than it usually does - which is generally in the space between each thought - but you've squashed the notion that he may be around.

"it's not good to jump too often between dimensions."

he'd said that once.

you bury yourself under the safe cover of assignments and tests. early classes and afternoons at library desks.

of course, there's always time for hobbies. cultivating a healthy school-social balance is reliant on a well-rounded lifestyle.

there's two security passed out in the corner. you would duct-tape them but you struck them with enough power to light a carnival for a week. they'd be out for a while.

you'd think the university student finance office would be unoccupied at almost nine at night. but seven or eight people huddle in the corner of the room, stragglers that had remained to do work after hours.

they press against each other in fear. you delight in it.

"it's not your guys' fault," you speak to the room. the lights flicker overhead. "i get it, it's the big corporations! but, that still affects the lives of students who can barely afford to pay for registration anymore--"

the computer system fizzles and sparks beneath your hand. monitors go black across the office, the remains of student financial documents dissolved into digital dust.

you'd deny the notion that you were doing all this for the "greater good". your own student fees were climbing, and just while you were here, there were a couple friends who could do without it too.

blue and red lights bounce off the side of your profile. sirens echo down the street.

"right." you dust your hands and look around. you're chuffed when you curtsy at them, ends of your short dress pinched between your fingertips. "that should be me done then. you all have a good night."

the buildings doors slide open where you push them. you're almost blinded by the cop car headlights.

they’d formed a lineup behind open car doors, guns aimed up at you.

“Statica!” a gruff voice called from the depths of the lights. “get on the ground and put your hands behind your head! you’re surrounded!”

you roll your shoulders, pretending to consider their offer. eventually you shook your head, “i don’t think so, sheriff. i’ve got class tomorrow, can’t be out too late.”

a crack of lightning rains from the sky and a nearby police car explodes, lifting a few feet off the ground and bursting into flames.

“well, i’ll be off.”

your hand raises to call down another bolt, one that would send you back to the sidewalk outside your apartment, when the officer calls again.

“drop your weapon!”

“my weapon?” you chuckle lowly, “you mean my hand—“

you’re cut short by a bang and a flash at the end of a standard police pistol.

several things happen at once:

a force hits you with enough power to force all your breath clean out your lungs. your body is thrown back against the sidewalk and your midriff grows warm. your hand finds your stomach, it's sticky there.

on the wall behind where you once stood, there's a gaping hole where the bullet that was supposed to be yours has dug a wide welt into the grey plaster.

"you missed!" a voice call somewhere beyond the flashing lights.

another shoot rings out, but you're gone in a shower of sparks before the bullet has chance to even graze your cheek.

you're back on the street outside your apartment building. the streetlamp buzzes above you.

your lungs are burning, grappling desperately for oxygen. your eyes find your stomach again:

where there should be blood and a bullet sized hole, instead is a tangled mess of white web. it's solidifying slowly over your yellow get-up.

"it ... there's no ways." you whisper, the only person out in the late night street.

your spider-man isn't going around pushing you out the way of police fire. he's probably off kissing babies and saving cats from trees.

no. this was someone else, and there's only one person-- but why would he be here?

your eyes find the line of rooftops as if Miguel's figure would crescent over your street. it doesn't. somewhere beyond them, a cop car whoops.

webbing is drying over your hand.

"fucking asshole."

you're being watched, all through the next day. all the way to friday, you can feel it. like tiny spiders crawling over your shoulder when you sit too still.

the heat of red eyes, they're never there when you look for them.

in the walks between classes, the breaks between sprawled over campus benches in the summer sun flittering out conversation riddled with classic complaints. i can't believe that fucking test, that twenty mark question at the end? is she crazy?

you've considered calling out. maybe he'd appear from the shadows, but you'd squashed the notion quickly. he didn't deserve your acknowledgement.

he's probably right chuffed with himself, saving you when you didn't need his interference. no. if he wants to lurk like a creep, let him!

but the thought weighed on you. your heart whined in the quiet dark of your room late at night. the empty space beside you, the prodding of a dream you'd long since killed: rising a grey soil-ridden hand out from the depths of it's grave.

it was never gonna work anyway. it was the thought that sent you into sleep.

friday night arrived like a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day.

you thrust your hips into your tiniest skirt and your chest through your prettiest top. your friends met you out on the sidewalk, already three drinks deep when you all spill into the muggy heat of the bar.

two vodka cranberries and three tequila shots under, the thought of Miguel dissipates. it's further incinerated by the warmth of the hand on your hip.

the man is tall - sure, not as tall as Miguel - and his blonde hair hung over his forehead. it didn't look soft, like how Miguel's did--

your grip tightened around the half-empty cup, thumb-sized welts melting through the plastic with the electric heat of your hand. shut up.

he brings you another drink. you chug it without another thought. he laughs and wipes at a red drop running down your chin with a cool hand. the bar swims around you in technicolour strobe lights and before you know it, the enthusiasm of the good times are whittling down to a thin thread.

"can i walk you home?"

you nod. he slips your hand in his and it's still too cool against your hot palm.

in the barely lit street, you wonder if he notices your glow. it wasn't so bright when you wanted it to be, but he was still too distracted by the tune of his own voice to notice.

"and we went down to the dock that day, there was a whole keg stand and we even--"

you think that maybe if you were as drunk as you were an hour ago that you'd have more energy to entertain him better. you nodded dumbly instead.

a quick in and out, you thought. you could tolerate him just for a few more hours if it meant he left your bed before the sun rises. he wasn't who you wanted, but he was here. and Miguel wasn't.

now that the alcohol in you was dwindling, not dead but dying, the melancholy of your situation was curling a cold hand up and making it hard to breath where it wrapped around your throat.

your building watched contemptuously down at you when you drew to a stop in front of it.

the man's, Cooper's, blue eyes draws circles over your face and his hand finds your waist again. he inches you closer.

"am i saying goodnight, or are you inviting me inside?"

you smile at him. it's faint and half-assed.

the rest of the night looms in your mind. could you really stand his Old Spice reeked conversation for another few hours? and would he really be able to get your mind off--

oh, oh. he's leaning in.

his thumb is pressing into the cavern of your cheeks, eyes pressing closed as rum-stifled breath nears your lips--

thwip. thwip.

there's a gust of air and a thump and Cooper is plastered to the side of your building in white webbing. his hands are pinned at his side, face white in shock.

your eyes widen. you teeter on shaky drunk legs, turning to face the rooftops where the darkness is blanketing over them and hiding where you know Miguel is lurking within.

alcohol infused rage claws up within you.

"O' Hara!" you scream out into the street. your hands heat, the streetlamp above flickering wildly under your influence. "you fucking asshole!"

your foot stamps against the concrete, hands racing up to your head and through your hair. "aaaghhh--!"

the bulb in the streetlight bursts. glass showers over your tantrum. it follows down the row of lights down the street, exploding in quick succession and sinking the sidewalk under an inky black cover.

you're now shining like a light on the mast of a fishing ship, casting a glow over the sea of tar. the spider is yet to emerge into your line.

"you are so full of shit! and if i see you again i will blast you through the whole city block, and this time you won't wake up--!"

"what the fuck--"

you turn with glowing eyes on the blonde bound to the wall, "shut up!"

thwip. his head bangs back against the brick where another web has sealed his mouth shut.

whipping back, your eyes find a shuffling figure over the next building. it's just a flicker of movement and then it's gone.

"ugh! you are so childish!"

you draw your hands over your face, running them down your cheeks and sigh. a couple deep breaths later and you can feel the heat of your power subsiding, it's dragging the anger down along with it.

"i'm going to bed." you mutter, patting down your skirt and fixing the edge of your shirt.

"mmpf--" Cooper moans against his restraints.

you'd just about forgotten about the man glued to your building. you cock your head at him.

"yeah ... well. good luck with that."

the buzzer echoes behind you when you shut the gate on his struggling.

it's hot when you wake up.

the covers are sticking to your legs and there's an itch in your throat for a tall glass of water. somewhere beyond the thrum of a headache against your forehead, you remember the bottle of water you set aside to cool in the fridge for this exact moment.

you groan when your feet hit the floor, the rush of blood to your head doing nothing to aid where your brain is pounding.

the apartment is warm with the soft glow of nearly morning. your alarm clock is flashing red - 05:02

orange light peeks over the counter when you pull your fridge open, the glare of starchy blue light pressing against your sensitive eyes. from the bottom drawer, you fish out the bottle and unscrew the cap.

you chug it down noisily, wet slurps echoing across the room. when you set it down you sigh, "god."

the image of your bed swims in your mind. the lure of the sheets calls to you again.

"princesa."

your back slams into the edge of the counter, "j-jesus--"

lurking in the corner by the door, wide shoulders out of place in the cramped apartment, stands Miguel O' Hara in his shiny red and blue suit.

your heart leaps into your throat, lodging there like a stone. you swallow around it. fuck, he looks so good.

"you," you stabilise the water bottle where it's spilt over the floor from your leap in fright. "what the hell are you doing here?"

he takes a step towards you. you press further back against the counter.

"i came to talk to you."

you guffaw, mouth slackening in amused disbelief. "talk? now you wanna talk?"

rising irritation flushes blood down to your legs, anger urges your steps forward all the way until your standing beneath him.

"you have been a pain in my ass for two weeks now--" you shove a finger into his hard chest, rising enough electricity to zap him but not enough to hurt. well, not hurt too much. he flinches.

"i've been a pain-- you electrocuted me through the side of a building?"

his face twisted, brow-bone hardening where he was glaring down at you.

"you deserved it. and i hope it hurt."

"it didn't."

"you're a liar."

silence rung into the space. you held your glare, but could feel it slowly softening. Miguel's hair was creeping over the edge of his forehead and his eyes had turned back to their chestnut brown that glittered in the sunlight peeking through the window.

he looked so ... so tame in this light. cramped into your apartment like he could belong there, like he could maybe be yours if you asked.

you broke first, turning away. "get out, Miguel." it was a whisper but you know he heard it.

"i need to talk to you."

you shook your head, refusing to meet his gaze again. "you had two weeks to talk, but instead you've been interfering in my life--"

"interfering? i saved you."

you huffed, forcing yourself to face him again. "saved me? saved me from what, a lunch date? a one night stand?"

at that, he turned away. face reddening. "i wouldn't have had to do that if you weren't going out with such fucking losers--"

"oh, pardon me for trying to find a date in my own dimension, someone who actually gives a shit about me.”

“i give a shit about you.”

you stilled. your lip wobbled against your will. “that’s not fair, Miguel.”

he shrunk the space by taking another step. “i came to apologise—“

you shook your head again. eyes finding the floor. against your sides, your palms were warming again: your next steps playing out in your mind.

another scalding hand to the chest, his body seizing underneath your palm and dragging his unconscious body out onto the street. probably come back and cry yourself back to sleep.

your hand rises.

“oh no,” thwip. thwip. “not this time, mi amor.”

just as he’d done to Cooper, your hands were plastered back against your apartment wall: splayed out against the cream paint job.

“this webbing thing is getting real fucking boring O’Hara—“

he was against you in an instant. warm, solid chest pressed against your pajama shirt. his hands came to cup your cheeks.

“i came to apologise.” you pressed your head back against the cold wall, eyes trained on the corner of the floor in your kitchen. it needed a vacuum. “i know i should have come when you asked. i know that.”

if you look at him, for even a second, you’d crumble and you knew it. your eyes were clouding, waterline wet.

a calloused finger ran slow and gentle down your jaw. “please look at me, princesa.”

you shook your head. a stray tear chased down, catching under the press of his finger.

“why don’t you go bother one of your other inter-dimensional girlfriends, Miguel.”

he growled at that, low and deep, and you’d be a liar if you said your knees didn’t buckle under the sound.

Miguel pressed forward: cheek to yours, hand digging welts into your hip.

“there’s no-one else. there’s only you, it’s only ever been you.”

you huffed at that, it curled at the edge with a humourless chuckle. “what, with this jawline and these muscles? i hope you don’t think i’m a fucking idiot.”

he caught the lobe of your ear between his teeth, pressing his body harder to yours, but you didn’t relent. your eyes fluttered against his heat, but stayed trained away from his shadowy figure.

“why are you so fucking difficult.” his breath was warm there. “you said prove it, Miggy, and i’m here proving it.”

“you’ve always known i was difficult.” you whisper, it’s more of an after-thought really.

he sighs, shoulders loosening just enough that you can make it out in the corner of your eye.

the flat column of his nose presses into your cheek. he nudges it there softly and it warms a pit deep inside you.

“sí, mi amor. lo sé.” hot lips press into your cheek and a whine escapes you before you can catch it. his thumb has reached up and is pressing into the space behind your ear.

his lips are traveling, just barely grazing your skin with pecks down your jaw. then to the column of your throat, to the bend between your shoulder and your neck.

“i know that … and you know that. and yet you still have no concept of how much trouble you make for me.” his voice swooping into the crevice of your collarbone. his teeth graze over that same spot. “how i can’t even work without thinking about you, watching every monitor hoping you’ll be in another dimension causing chaos so i can come find you and you can bat those pretty fucking eyelashes at me. can’t sleep. think about you lying beside me. about all the pretty noises i can draw from your pretty throat.”

his knee sinks to the ground, hitting the floor with a soft thump. the other follows shortly after.

that draws your gaze off the floor, eyes wide in surprise. they find the supple curls on the top of his head.

even on both knees, the crown of his head brushes under your nose.

the sight was widening the lump in your throat. it burnt to swallow.

“and yet you still never came.”

he shakes his head at that. gentle hands reach for the end of your pajama shirt, tugging it up slowly. Miguel leans forward and presses another kiss against the soft fat over your exposed hip.

you twitch against him, gasping at the heat of his lips over your cool skin. at your hands, your fingertips crackle with summoned energy. you can feel where the webbing is slowly melting under it’s press.

“‘s not true.” he says against you. “i’m here all the time.”

your shirt is being lifted higher as his head chases up your naked stomach, nipping at the skin where it freckles with goosebumps.

“i come to watch you—“

“that’s not creepy at all—“ you mutter, only teasing, and you’re punished with a particularly hard bite at your ribs.

“come because i miss your face and your laugh and …” he sighs, nudging his cheek against you. “god you make me fucking sick.”

there’s a squelch where the webbing has melted just enough for you to pry your hands from the wall, immediately grasping for the depths of Miguel’s hair.

“ever the romantic.” you huff. but you tug on his roots so he’s facing up to you, neck stretched deliciously with veins and hard muscle.

he’s blinking, lips parted as he waits for you.

“are you being serious, Miguel?” you ask quietly.

his eyes twinkle. “i am.”

you purse your lips, a smile creeping up into the corners of your mouth. your nails scrape over the crown of his head, trailing down to rest at the base of his neck. his eyes flutter shut against your hand.

“this might be the best apology i’ve ever received.”

he hums. “that’s good.”

“is it over, or should i let you finish? cause i’m kind of itching to kiss you right now.”

a smile of his own creeps over his face. it’s a sight you’ve maybe caught a glimpse of once in your life.

“i’m done.”

he leans up, persuaded by your touch reaching to cup his jaw. he’s almost at your mouth when he whispers again.

“you’re not gonna electrocute me for trying to kiss you again, are you?”

you laugh at that, his grip on your waist tightens at the sound. “you ever gonna let that go, old man?”

“old man?”

he surges forward, lips finding yours in a bruising kiss.

you giggle against him and your hands are everywhere: through his hair and down his shoulders and over his jaw. his tongue slips in against yours and it's saccharine like you'd always dreamed it to be. Miguel's hands race up your calves, behind your knees and hook beneath your thighs. he lifts you with him when he stands.

your legs wrap around him and he's persistent, pushing you against the wall in the heat of his kiss.

you detach your lips from his, chasing them down his cheek and into the crevice between his jaw and his neck. he groans, fingertips driving deeper into the plush of where he was holding you up by your thighs.

"i should get you jealous more often."

he guffaws, face above yours. "me? jealous of those idiots? as if."

leaning back to meet his face again, you cock an eyebrow. "you wrecked that guy's car. and taped the other one against a building."

his eyes rolled, an all-too-pretty blush darkening his face. he dropped it against your shoulder, "you know about the car?"

you laugh. "what else is big enough to flip a car in Manhattan. and the claw marks? you're so transparent it's almost hot."

Miguel chuckles and it's ticklish against your skin. he drops another kiss there. "i don't like sharing."

"sharing?"

he's back to nipping spots up your neck. "don't wanna share my girl."

the smile on your face was impossible to squash. "oh, i'm your girl now?"

he nods. "will you be?"

your fingers creep back into his hair, bringing him back into the light of your eyes. "you're not trying to make a hero out of me, are you? convert me to your little spider-squad?"

his lips purse, pretending to consider it, before eventually shaking his head. "no."

“wouldn’t a villain and a spider-man together collapse the multiverse or something?”

“then let it collapse.”

your thumb tugs on his fat bottom lip before letting it snap back in place. "god you're a sweet talker, Miggy."

you press forward to kiss him again. he sighs.

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feistyfreaks · 6 months

Text

the physical - miguel o’hara

pairings ❀ ⋮ doctor!miguel x shyf!reader

₊❏❜ content ⋮ dubcon/cnc, d/s dynamics // doctor taking advantage of their patient, nipple play & nipple stimulation, blue balls, soft dom, sweet tempered mig, vag fingering, squirting, ehh aftercare ?? porn with a taboo subject. slight dirty talk, nicknames, n somewhat begging.

note ⋮ sorta got lazy w this lmfao, this is one of so many drafts i have lingering around in my pile.

not proofread !

✧*･ﾟ

there you were, anxiously fidgeting around with your fingers. waiting patiently to be called on.. and you mean very patient.

what?

you wanted them to take their time so you wouldn’t have to walk into the examination room. this was going to be your first physical and you were really nervous. and it showed when the heel of your foot intensely bounced rhythmically off the floor.

“y/n” the nurse called out as your anxiety heightened. you smiled awkwardly standing up, lowering your head as you walked past the other patients and into a small room.

“i’ll just take your blood pressure real quick~” the nurse hummed, grabbing the small machine and undoing the velcro as she wrapped it around the fat of your arm.

with a faint click the cuff began to tighten, cutting off your blood flow for a moment. your arm became numb and tingly as you a felt short pulse on it — and with a whoosh, the cuff finally released you.

“excellent! now just change into this robe — make sure to be completely naked under it, and the doctor should be in pretty soon.” the nurse said. “you look nervous is it your first time?” the nurse asked.

“yeahh..”

“don’t worry he won’t bite.” the lady playfully rolled her eyes, flashing you a reassuring smile as she elbowed you.

“he?” you blurted out, eyes widening.

“i know it may seem weird, but he’s a gentlemen.” the lady added, seeing your expression she tried consoling it.

but that only caused you to worry more.

“it’ll go well don’t worry!” she said, heading out her way she waved at you and wished you good luck.

you stood there processing the whole thing and imagining all the possibilities of embarrassment you’re going to have to go through. you slowly exhaled. “oh my gosh, fuck me for coming here.” you whined to yourself as you moved on to removing your layers of clothing - you took your shirt off and unclasped your bra, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding it down your thighs along with your panties. you then reached for the robe and wrapped it around your naked body. you folded your clothes neatly into a stack as you placed it on a small desk besides you.

you then sat atop the table, waiting patiently.

just then a audible knock fulfilled your ears as your head perked up to meet eyes with a males.

your heart stopped beating for a second.

oh shit.

this guy was so fine he could literally be on a magazine cover.

you couldn’t help but wonder if this man was single or if he had a very lucky girlfriend.

“how’s your morning going, love?” the man asked, casually calling you a nickname that made you stop in your tracks and turn red.

“good.”

you began pinching yourself as you slightly pouted. ‘fuck fuck fuck’

“did you eat any breakfast?” he asked, giving the hint of wanting to start a conversation.

“nothing, really.” you lied, faking a smile. “me too, i was in a rush so i just decided to chew on some gum for the moment.” he grinned, clicking his pen as he picked up your files, tapping it on his desk tidying up all those loose sheets of paper into a neat stack.

“oh.”

what a plain response.

“well then, let’s begin shall we?” he proposed with a smile as you nodded.

“alright—first and foremost, i’m going to listen to your heartbeat.“ he said, stepping closer to you as he gently pushed down the robe and pressed the stethoscope to the center of your chest.

“breathe in~”

you inhaled and held your breath, all while his eyes ogled yours.

“breathe out~”

“again, breathe in..”

“and breathe out~”

“are you nervous?” he asked, raising a brow.

‘kill me’

“..no”

“really?”

“..yes”

“honey, you’re a very bad liar.” he chuckled as you felt yourself heat up.

“take a deep breath.” he smiled. “your heart rate is a little rapid, which may be due to your adrenaline rush — but it’s totally normal since most find it awkward being around the opposite sex during this exam.” he reassured, “it’s nothing new dear.”

“right.” you awkwardly laughed, nodding your head in agreement as you looked away.

“i get if you may feel weird, i’ll try my best to make you feel welcomed.” he smiled.

“thank you, i appreciate it.”

and you really did appreciated it. you knew what he was trying to do. you’ve been observing it — and this proved your point. he was trying to make you comfortable in the short amount of time you two had together.

“well, i’m now going to move on to examine your hair and mouth.” he chimed, slipping on some blue gloves as the rubber snapped to each of his wrists.

his fingers cordially ran through your luscious hair, mindfully massaging small circles on each of your temples. “que bella.” he commented, making you smile, “thank you.”

he then moved on to cup your face conscientiously, gently tilting your head to the side as he brushed your hair behind your ear. he couldn’t help but scrutinize your unique features.

“you’re really pretty.” he added, making your smile widen even more. “thank you,” you replied, “i’d say the same about you.” you wanted to return the compliment but the words slipped out of your mouth, giving him the idea you found him attractive.

“really? i’m quite old so it’s nice to know the good looks still haven’t wore off yet.” he laughed.

“oh, how old are you?” you asked curiously perking your head to the side.

“how old do i look? be brutally honest, no offense taken.”

you squinted your eyes, now it was your turn to examine his features.

his dark hair was neatly slicked back, no grey hair to hint his age nor any visible wrinkles—rather his bronzed skin looked flawless, and his lips weren’t even chapped. neither did they look cracked or dry, they looked soft, plump and rich. his outfit was nicely chosen and put together. he looked formal and neat..and hot. he stood around six foot with an attractive physique.

“twenty seven?” you guessed wildly, “wow that really boosts my ego, i’m in my early thirties.” he chuckled, flashing you a smile that made your heart throb.

there’s no way he could’ve been older than thirty. “you’re being for real?” you snorted before you abrupt into a contagious laughter.

“no like actually, i am. but thank you love, that definitely made my day.” he thanked with a tender warm smile that made your heart clench and swing your legs like a teenage girl in love.

“okay, cariño. let’s check your mouth now, yea? ahh — ” he demonstrated sticking out his tongue as he pointed to his mouth.

“aaahh.”

“good girl.”

his thumb pressed on your chin, adjusting his glasses to further inspect you as his eyes squinted.

god he was so close to you, his warm breath smelled like the mint flavored gum he was chewing on ~ and oh his cologne. it smelled so good, and so manly it had you swooning.

he carefully placed a popsicle stick on the flat of your tongue, slightly pushing it down and past your throat making you gag.

“that remind you of anything?” he grinned, raising a brow and he couldn’t help but smirk at your confused expression.

“wh-hat?” you choked out, curling your hand into a fist as you hit your chest in attempts to calm down your choke.

“nothing dear,” he cleared his throat with a smug smile, continuing to chew on his gum as if nothing happened.

you didn’t get it.

he finished writing something on his notepad as he clicked his pen, satisfied.

“mkay i’m going to ask you a few simple questions..” he went on, “first question, how often do you exercise?”

“two to four times a week.”

“excellent. are you feeling any abnormal pain or discomfort, if so where do you feel the pain or discomfort?”

“no, and no where.”

“any use of drugs, alcohol anything particularly?”

“nope.”

“are you sexually active?”

“..no..”

“are you practicing safe sex?”

you looked up at him, “..no?”

that sounded as if you were questioning yourself.

“when was the last time you’ve been penetrated?”

you fell silent..hoping he’d get the message. but he didn’t seem to read your expression like you anticipated to.

“i’m a virgin.”

“oh..”

“okay.” he raised his brows trying to not give you the impression he was surprised by your answer. like look at you, you looked so gorgeous sitting there all flustered.

he glanced down adjusting his glasses again as he scribbled something down on his note pad before turning back to you.

“just need you to lay down for me and put your feet on the stirrups.” he smiled as you followed the given instructions, leaning backwards until your back hit the cold leather as he helped you put your feet in and onto the stirrups, lacing them secure.

“scoot closer,”

you propped your elbows on the table, scooting your bum closer.

“more..”

you scooted further, just inches away from his pelvis, yet that still wasn’t enough - “just a little more..”

gosh. how close did he want you to be? you scooted just a teeny tiny bit more.

he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to his likings, your pelvises were so close it was centimeters away from one another’s. but to make matters worse he decided to close the gap — your groin making contact with his as your breath hitched in your throat.

your robe rose up, feeling his bulge brush against your pantie-less cunt as he took a step back. he definitely felt that. clearing his throat, he looked away pretending he didn’t see anything.

you pulled your robe down in embarrassment, blood rushing to your cheeks.

“my bad,” he coughed, “just wanted to make sure you were close enough.” he reasoned.

“anyways, i need to examine your breasts so if you mind..” he expressed, signaling you to pull your robe down from the shoulders.

you took a deep breath, breaking eye contact you slowly started to undo the knot but were too embarrassed to completely pull it off your breasts — so he did it for you.

his ginormous hand skimmed past your breast before taking a handful in his palm, fondling and squishing it as if it were some stress toy.

he continued to chew on the gum expressionless whilst thumbing your sensitive nipple making you bite your lip. with his pointer finger and thumb he rolled the bud in between the pads of his fingers before slightly tugging at it.

you let out a gasp, and he raised a brow.

oh, weren’t you sensitive?

he decided to tease you more.. twisting the bead in his finger pads and tugging at it again.. and again and again. you didn’t notice you were squirming the whole time, your brows were knitted together and you didn’t even realize you were letting out soft moans. once you finally had the confidence to meet his stare he tugged on your poor nipple harder causing you to let out a loud whimper that made you bite your tongue. and before letting go, he decided to give you one last harsh squeeze.

by the end of his little examination he knew he had left you hot and bothered.

he wanted to continue toying with you, those cute little sounds you were making made his dick twitch in his pants.

“all normal and healthy.” he muttered lowly, eyes darkening with a hidden arousal.

opening a drawer he reached for a weird looking contraption as he dug further, pulling out a small liquidy tube.

“i’m now going to need a quick sample of your mucus, it’s to test for any infections.” he explained, “f-y-i it’s gonna hurt, but don’t worry i’ll make it as quick as possible.” he added, “by the way this is a speculum and it’ll y’know go inside—you get the idea.“

you nodded awkwardly as he stepped forward yet again. “may i?”

you nodded slightly embarrassed as you gave him consent, he slowly pushed your robe, displaying your bare cunt.

his thumb swiped against your naked mound, uncapping the bottle you felt a cold liquid pour onto your warmth, making you gasp. your lower body writhed, bucking at the feeling.

“sorry i should’ve warmed it up for you darling.” he cooed, his snug palm rested on your pubic bone to warm it up, lathering the lubricant all over you. and when you were ready he slowly slid the speculum inside, opening the blades you let out a strained groan. it revealed your insides and the back of your cervix.

bloody hell did it sting — the cool breeze was a weird sensation. but boy have you never felt so exposed before. a small cotton swab gently swiped on the inside of your inner wall causing you to let out another painful hiss.

“all done” he murmured, putting the cotton swab into a small ziploc bag and into a envelope. closing the contraption and slowly pulling it out of you, you let out a sigh of relief. “feelin’ okay?” he asked, caressing your arm.

“i-i’m fine” you sighed shakily.

“if you say so” he smiled, checking off something in his notepad before beginning once again, “last but not least i’ll be checking for any tenderness, growths and any tumors inside you. so while i’m at it try to think of something hot and exciting — being naturally turned on helps with getting better results.” he suggested, making some shit up.

you blinked, “..i don’t know what to think about though”

“think about me fucking you or something” he scoffed, blurting out something so taboo it made you blush.

“w-what?”

“i’m kidding” he laughed, “i mean.. unless you’re actually into that type of stuff” he cleared his throat, searching for any visible reaction on your face from the corner of his eye.

“n-no, no not at all — that’s wrong, very wrong.” you reasoned, trying to prove your innocence. “you’re nervous” he pointed out. “am not!”

“oh really? your body language is telling me a whole different story” he smiled, “no need to be ashamed about your fantasies”

“i-i’m not ashamed!” you snapped back,“so sensitive..” he chuckled, as you realized your back felt hot and all sweaty.

oh boy did he know how to rile you up.

‘he was only playing.’ you reminded yourself, slowly exhaling.

“let’s get started shall we?” he voiced teasingly - his hand trailed down your abdomen as his finger pads ghosted over your soft skin sensually hovering over your entrance. his touch sent butterflies to abrupt in your tummy, and that’s when you shut your lids tight feeling his digits slip past your folds ever so smoothly. like a dip in warm honey, a slight whimper escaped your lips from the ecstatic feeling.

his thumb crept up to add pressure to your clit, experimentally toying with you. but he wasted no time in setting a steady pace as his experienced fingers lewdly slid in and out of you. you moaned softly, aroused with the excitement exploding through your body.

he began searching for anything abnormal - but of course he put more effort into finding your gspot.

you couldn’t help but yelp once his finger tips curled upwards.

bingo.

it didn’t take him to long to find that sweet gummy spot he’d been looking for as he was already familiar with the female anatomy. your thighs twitched and clamped around his hand as he purposely began to brush up against your sweet spot — aiming his fingertips against that certain nerve making you moan loudly.

he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

your mouth hung open, your eyes searched for his as they twinkled with lust. “feels good doesn’t it?” he asked, breaking through your pleasure. “fuck please” you breathed out.

“hm please what mami?” he praised as his fingers continued their assault on your sobbing cunt, fucking into you in all the right places.

you curiously looked downwards as the visual stimulation sent pleasurable shocks throughout your body.

his other hand came to slap your clit making you jump,

“answer me.”

you opened your mouth but the only thing that came out was a whine.

“i know you aren’t that fucked out, answer me nena.”

“please wanna cum —!” you whined pathetically, shutting your eyes harshly.

that’s when you felt your orgasm approaching, your fingers wrapped around his thick wrist in attempts to stop him before you shattered into pieces.

“is that so baby? wanna cum on your doctors fingers hm?” he teased with that cocky grin of his. the thought of your doctor fingering you so lewdly made your pussy throb.

an intense sensation formed in the pit of your stomach as it slowly began unraveling, but before you could even hit that euphoric bliss he slipped his fingers out with a smug grin, a groan tearing from you throat.

he tore off the blue latex gloves in one swift movement, his fingers teased your slit, obscenely spreading them out as he spat at your clit, the saliva running down and coating your contrasting hole before slipping his ring and middle finger back into your glistening cunt.

the new sensation of his textured finger pads caused a shiver to run down your spine. the feeling of the warm texture rubbing on your bare velvety walls felt so good it had you bucking into his palm.

“such a fucking tight pussy” he growled, his thumb roughly rubbing circles on your sensitive pearl. colorful pigmented dots formed in your eyesight like a static tv before your eyes began rolling back.

you moaned loudly, his fingers skillfully fucking you roughly as your back arched off the leather seat. your pussy clenched around his fingers as he bumped into your gspot again, n again, n again.

and before you knew it you were a whining mess, squirting everywhere and ruining his clothes.

it atleast took you a minute or two to recover, and when you snapped back into reality you found your doctor calmly cleaning you up.

“oh my—“

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone come as hard just from fingering.” he chuckled, “what a show baby, you were so responsive.”

“you’re all healthy dear, come back in a year or so — that was just the beginning.”

part two.

#feistyfreaks #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara spiderverse #kinktober #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel fanfiction

5K notes · View notes

dreampurpledreams · 10 months

Text

A/N - All of this is subject to change, nothing is permanent/promised. Titles are quotes from the fic.

↳What happens when the new girl finds out, Miles' secret?(Series, Fic/Imagines, headcannons, ?k words in total)

warnings: fluff, anticipated angst, doesn't include other spiderman/woman, romance, kinda chaotic, may be cliche idk, Black, natural hair reader, She is country, based off into the spiderverse Miles, I'm imagining him to be 16-17 while writing.

Spiderverse Masterlist Navi Series tag - #[ howdy🕷️]

chapter 1

"I.K.Y.W.B."

↳ Miles comes in late one night and is discovered by the new girl. Who just so happens to be really cute. (fic/imagine, 2k words)