#miguel ohara angst

[moon-rivr]

congratulations

i bet on losing dogs (part two) series masterlist

pairing: college miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: one year age gap, angst (?), smut, unprotected sex, doggy, and mentions of masturbation (m) pls lmk if i missed anything 🥸

synopsis: after going through a toxic cycle with his ex girlfriend, miguel learns that maybe he does deserve some type of love in his life.

author’s note: DADDY’S HOMEEE 🗣️ anyways so i sorta based this off mac miller’s song ‘congratulations.’ i hope y’all aren’t tired of me posting angst 😪 (i haven’t forgotten ab the poll btw 😭)

word count: 6.3k

The sun don't shine when I'm alone

Miguel was stuck in a cycle of getting together with Dana, spending a couple months of bliss by going on dates with her and exchanging sweet gestures to having a messy breakup over something completely minute. It was toxic, he could admit that much to himself. But he didn't wish to stop it. If his own mother couldn't provide him with love as a child, why should he expect for someone else to love him?

He was an anomaly.

Or at least, that's what he's been led to believe for most of his life. A being that was incapable of being loved properly, of being the odd one out in every situation he was in. From being the tallest one in every single room he stepped in (often having to crouch his head) to being the black sheep of his family.

He stayed with Dana as a method to prove to himself that he was worthy of loved by someone, even if it wasn't expressed in the healthiest of ways. But even he was starting to get at his ending point. "No, I told you about a week ago that robotics was starting back up again and that I'd be busy with the meetings," Miguel explained for what seemed to be the thousandth time this week. Think about the good moments.

"So are those meetings more important than spending time with me now?" Dana's voice was starting to get annoying to his ears, the tiny whine in her voice starting to irritate him. He was sure she was putting up that pout that she thought got him weak at the knees every time he saw it. Really, he only ended up relenting to whatever she said so he couldn't have to see that awful expression on her face for much longer.

"No, they're not. But just try to understand that I have different interests outside of this relationship. We can go out this weekend if you want to do that," he was running out of options to keep her happy. It seemed like the more that he wanted for this relationship to work, the more that she kept slipping away from his fingers. "It's just.. I don't know if I want to be in a relationship where my needs aren't being seen."

She'd be back within the week. Maybe even less if she got up to that point of loneliness. She'd come back over to him with an apologetic smile on her face, expressing how she was willing to forgive him for his past transgression. "It's okay, I know you get busy sometimes but as long as you're willing to change, I want to give this another shot," she'd whisper in his ear, the two making up in an empty janitorial closet. An exchange of empty promises slipping from Dana easily forgotten with the heat of the moment.

He came back home from a robotics meeting that had run late, a small sigh escaping his lips as he stepped inside. There was no one to welcome him as he stepped in through the door, no one to ask him how his day had gone at school today. "How'd your day go?" he asked out loud, pretending that it was his mother's voice instead of his own echoing through the living room. "It was good, thanks for asking," he felt like a fool for talking to himself, rolling his eyes as he set down his bag on the couch.

Or at least, he'd thought he was alone. He heard two voices coming from the basement, his brother's and someone else's. He made his way downstairs, his eyes widening slightly upon the sight. The spaceship model that he'd spent every available second of last week building was now crumbled by a basketball. Gabriel's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, moving closer to Miguel as you stood in the corner.

"Look, we're sorry. The game got out of hand," Gabriel started off but he released that all his attempts to apologize would be futile upon seeing the glare Miguel was shooting in his general direction. "So if you knew, why'd you come downstairs to come play?" Miguel answered back quickly, seeming to have his comebacks ready at any moment. Part of you started to feel guilty, needing to take some kind of responsibility for this as well.

"Hey, it's not his fault. I'm the one who suggested that we play down here," you could sense the tension from a mile away, deciding to ease the situation a bit. Even if that meant you had to take the fall for Gabriel's mistake. You could see the gratitude in Gabriel's expression upon seeing you walk over to them. "So? That doesn't change the fact that my project's still in shambles."

And almost as if on cue, one of the pieces that was barely hanging on fell to the ground with a dramatic thud. You could see the vein on Miguel's forehead get closer and closer to popping the more he looked at the remnants of what was otherwise, a perfect model rocket. The only reason the two of you had even come down here in the first place was because Gabriel wanted to show you the design that his brother was working on.

You'd expressed some interest in wanting to join the stem club at school, but you eventually decided against it after seeing that it was majorly ran by guys. Guys that had a reputation for being overwhelmingly misogynistic. You decided it'd be better not to join and just wait until next year, if you even wanted a chance of getting your ideas being heard out.

Most of them didn't even bother to listen to you outside of school so you didn't delude yourself into thinking that being in a club would magically change that. As much as you really wanted to join.

So you settled for observing from the outside, walking into the robotics classroom when it was deserted to look through the different parts modeled and the different things that were presented. And occasionally, Gabriel would let you sneak a peek at what the club president, Miguel, was up to.

"I can help you with the project if you want," you suggested, hoping that it would detonate the situation. The two brothers had been on thin ice since Miguel managed to get with Dana, leaving you to comfort Gabriel as he cried about the loss of his girlfriend. Miguel's face relaxed instantly, his gaze flickering over to you instead. "I'll do it myself. You'd probably just end up messing it up," his tone came out cold, dismissing the two of you out of the basement.

The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to slice with a blade. You stepped away from the table where the model rocket had once been set up, choosing to go stand by Gabriel instead. You would've figured that was the last of the discussion but you heard Gabriel mumbling underneath his breath as he headed out. Miguel's ears instantly perked up, his teeth gritting against one another. "You have something you wanna say to me?"

Miguel had practically given Gabriel a loaded weapon now. The two of you collectively knew that Gabriel wasn't one to keep his mouth shut. But maybe Miguel just wanted to keep the argument going? You weren't completely sure how this family dynamic worked at all. "Pinche amargado," Gabriel spoke up, a scoff escaping from Miguel's lips. (fucking bitter)

"Amargado porque tu no puedes dejar mis putas cosas en paz." (bitter because you can’t leave my stuff alone)

"Igualito a ti, cabron. Tu con Dana y yo con tus cosas." (just like you. you with dana and i with your stuff)

"Vete a la puta v-"

Their voices rose with each retort that they gave one another, the two almost at a brink of yelling at each other. You looked around to try to create a diversion, opting to just flicker the lights on to see if they'd calm down. You didn't have much hope in your strategy but Miguel fell silent after the lights had been turned off. Two pairs of eyes were directed towards you when you turned the lights back on, both expressing some form of disdain.

"Look, it was my fault for ruining your project so allow me to take some kind of responsibility and help you rebuild it. It's not going to be done on time tomorrow if you do it all by yourself," you spoke up after they both had a couple seconds to calm down, reluctance visible all over Miguel's face. Though, he seemed to be actually considering the possibility now. His brows furrowed as he stayed quiet for a couple seconds, eventually huffing out what sounded like a 'fine.'

"Just call me when you're done here," Gabriel relented as he walked over to the basement door, paying once last glance to you over his shoulder. You nodded to his words, looking back over at Miguel. He was already hunched over his desk, starting to take out the pieces of the rocket that had been affected. Maybe you'd get lucky and he wouldn't continue with his angry rant?

I see your eyes look through my soul

The two of you worked in silence for the most part, a couple mutters escaping from Miguel as he worked on taping the pieces back in their correct order. "Irresponsables," he muttered to himself, gluing one of the small pieces together. He wasn't too keen on having you around, his body turned away from you as he worked. But yet, you also had some kind of urge to help him out after you'd aided in the destruction of his project.

"How'd you get into aerospace?" You decided to break the ice and ask a question, looking up from the piece that you were assembling back together. His expression seemed to lose the original intensity that it once held, his body relaxing in the rolling chair he was in. "I didn't. I pursued robotics at first and then there was this competition to build rockets. I started to learn about them, about the different space missions from the past and eventually my interest grew from there."

You nodded along to his answer, going back to working on the piece you were reconstructing. His gaze travelled over to where you were working, a bit surprised by how well you were doing. He'd expected for you to make an even bigger mess of the situation and excuse it with 'just trying to help.' "Are you into aerospace as well?" You hadn't expected for him to actually engage in the conversation but it was a question that you liked getting asked about. While most of the conversation revolves around aerospace, you couldn't deny that he was fun to talk to.

"If you like it that much, you should join. A couple members apart from myself are graduating this year and a couple chairs are going to open," he noted, handing you a wrench to tighten a bolt. You tightened the bolt, grabbing one of the nuts that scattered through the floor when the wing fell off. "I'll think about it," you told him, though your voice held no conviction towards it. He wouldn't push the topic further but he could see just how excited you were to be working on the project.

So much that you didn't even demand to be credited as one of his partners for the project.

Much as he hated to admit to himself, he found that it was quite nice to spend some time with you. Especially when it came to do something that he enjoyed doing. It was a sharp contrast from his time with Dana, going from having surface level conversations about each other's day. Maybe a relationship shouldn't have to involve so much work? Maybe every conversation didn't have to end in a fight after all.

Instead of trying to fix things over with Dana by following her like a lost puppy, he decided to fix things up with Gabriel. Because a part of him secretly wanted to see you again. The modified rocket ship had gotten a couple compliments from the other members, some of them even claiming that it could go to nationals. He wasn't completely sure if they were sucking up to him for a recommendation, but he knew that you'd appreciate the feedback.

So, he decided he'd stop being so strict with Gabriel and lend his stuff over whenever he asked. To which he got a couple of surprised looks and hesitation at first. The next step in the process was for him to work out an apology. But how does one exactly go about apologizing for stealing a partner? Especially when said person had brought up concerns to feeling inferior in every shape and form to himself? He'd dug himself into a hole he had no idea how to get out of.

Miguel awkwardly stood in front of Gabriel's room as he heard the thud of a couple tools inside, his younger brother being more into mechanics than robotics. He decided to swallow the last bit of pride that he had, stepping inside the threshold. He could sense the surprise seeping out of Gabriel as he sat down next to him, grabbing one of the screwdrivers. The two worked in silence for a while, working in perfect synchrony as they focused on building an engine.

"I'm sorry for what happened with Dana, by the way. I know it's not worth much but I am. I shouldn't have taken your trust for granted and I shouldn't have done that considering how you feel about me," Miguel spoke up after they were getting close to finishing, looking over at Gabriel. He saw a frustrated expression all over his brother's face, something that he wasn't particularly used to seeing. "You know, you keep saying what you shouldn't have done but the fact remains that you still did it. But thank you for that apology, I guess."

Miguel started offering to take the both of you to places, choosing to tag along just to hear your laugh whenever Gabriel would make a joke. Even if he wanted to be the one telling you these jokes. "Hey, what do you call a Drosophila who likes to drink?" he decided to break the silence as he drove you two to the movie theater, looking over at you through their rear view window. "What do you call it?" You decided to indulge in his 'joke,' if his attempt could even classify as that. "A bar fly."

You let out a laugh more so out of how bad it was, your eyes crinkling as you did. The look on Gabriel's face made the laughter escape from your lips much louder. "Can't believe you're actually laughing at those bad jokes," Gabriel muttered, staring at you like you were a creature from outer space. "Shut up before I leave you on the side of the freeway," Miguel called out from the front seat, biting back a smile of his own upon seeing that he'd managed to make you laugh. Maybe it was worth it looking for those corny science jokes last night.

Miguel had quickly forgotten about the void he was trying to fill with Dana, only reminded of it when he saw her leaning against his car. Her glossy lips were wrapped around a lollipop, her brown hair combed back into a bob. All he could think about was all the dirt she was probably getting on his car now. "You haven't answered any of my calls," Dana whined as he approached, getting off his car to go over to him. "For good reason," Miguel grumbled, opening his car door to toss his backpack inside. He could see Dana trying to scramble for some kind of logical answer, a slew of curses thrown his away once she realized what'd he meant.

The cycle was done. They were done this time, for good.

"How come you're not out at those graduation parties and stuff?" Gabriel mused as he took a bite out his burger. "You think he's type of person to get invited to parties?" You decided to tease Miguel a bit, taking some of his fries before dipping them into ranch. No he wasn't. Not that he'd ever admit that to you though. "The scent of weed just irks my nose, man," Miguel responded, a small scoff coming from the younger brother in response.

Empty cans of beer and articles of clothing washed up to the surface of the bay, the sight making you grimace in disgust. But this was where Miguel had decided he wanted to go after graduation. "I'm gonna head to the car, it smells like ass out here," Gabriel told the both of you, tossing the final rock he had in his hand out into the water before walking off.  To be fair, it really did smell like ass. The contamination from the water and the ships around mixed in together, overall just providing an unpleasant scent.

"I'm gonna head back too," you told Miguel, starting to get up from your spot. Before you had the chance to dust yourself off properly, Miguel had stood up and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Just wait a second, please. There's something that I have to ask you," he seemed fidgety, looking everywhere else but you as he talked. You stayed silent, giving him the chance to speak whenever he was comfortable enough to. "Do you want to go out on a date with me?"

He was starting to prepare himself for the upcoming rejection, making a mental list of all the songs he'd add to his breakup playlist later on. He'd probably end up blasting those at full volume in the basement while taking out his anger on a model robot, bracing himself to ignore the yells from Gabriel coming up the stairs. "Yes," the words didn't register in his mind at first, his eyes drifting over to your mouth as he made out the syllables.

Wait, what?

"You're actually being serious?" he had to ask. Had to double check that this wasn't a prank or something that Gabriel had set you up to as some kind of revenge for what he did with Dana. Then again, Gabriel hadn't exactly mentioned anything about you towards him. Not that they talked a lot nowadays, but he figured that Gabriel would've at least expressed some kind of concern if he knew. So.. there was really only one possibility left.

You actually wanted to go out with him.

The time that the two of you spent together that summer was much more than the time you actually spent apart, from going out to exploring different museums to different science conventions. Your main concern had been how Gabriel would take it, not wanting to overstep your boundaries as his best friend. "Be careful, okay?" was all that he said when he saw you walking out of Miguel's room with a borrowed shirt on. Gabriel was more concerned about you than Miguel throughout this exchange.

The transition to when the school year started was difficult, given that the two of you had somewhat conflicting schedules. Despite all this, Miguel was sure to schedule a minimum of two dates for each month. Miguel was determined to put the effort into making this relationship work now that he managed to get with you. He'd make sure to pull all nighters the day before he had a date with you to get his assignments done on time, wanting nothing more but dedicate the time designated to you fully.

You didn't know who else to call when college decisions went out, choosing instead to call Miguel. You knew he'd been swamped with lectures and research essays as of late, but you didn't want to share this moment with anyone else. Not when he was the one to calm you down with each mini panic attack you got after hitting the 'submit' button on your applications. "Hola princesa, what's up?" his voice drawled out like the sweetest honey, your breathing slowly starting to calm down.

"Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you too much but I was wondering if you could come over. College decisions came out and I can't get myself to click through the messages alone," you told him, your leg bouncing as you awaited for an answer. "I'll be right over. I'll bring some burritos," he answered, the line clicking to an end shortly after. You waited with anticipation for the doorbell to ring, practically jumping off your bed when you did hear it thirty minutes later.

"Just open it, I'm sure they accepted you. They'd be dumb not to," he sat down next to you as you scrolled to the last one you had left to open. The one you'd saved as an attempt to keep your hopes up from being too high. You had four acceptances, two from out of state and two in Nueva York. "I can't. What if I just have my hopes up?" you had your face hidden behind your hands, your words coming out muffled. "Even if they did reject you, it's not the end of the world. Just look for yourself."

UC Berkeley had been more of a reach school for you, the other four being your safety nets. Your grades hadn't exactly been up to perfection but you held out the hope that the extracurriculars you got involved with and the volunteer service you did was enough. As well as the robotics credential that Miguel encouraged to go after. You let out a sigh, trying to calm yourself down before clicking on the letter. The words blurred together as you read through it, a bunch of gibberish registering in your brain. Miguel had his hand on your thigh, gently rubbing small circles on it.

The touch was slowly bringing you back to earth, your breathing starting to calm down. You didn't have to say anything, he just knew what you needed before you even had the chance to realize that you even needed it. You directed your attention back to the monitor upon calming down, reading over the letter. "I got in!" you exclaimed as you look over at Miguel, his hands immediately wrapped around you. "I told you so. They'd be stupid not to have you in their school."

They'd even offered you a scholarship! The only downside was that it was in California.

The thought hadn't even registered in your head when you were applying for a spot, the only thought in your head being that of fulfilling what you wanted. You looked over at him, the same look of realization upon him as he saw 'Berkeley, CA' almost taunting him through the screen. The idea of doing long distance wasn't something you were quite fond of, given the fact that it just seemed like a slow way to prolong the fact that the end of the relationship. And yet, you didn't really want to break up with him.

"Would you stay in Nueva York if I asked you to?" Miguel knew he was being selfish by asking this, he knew that he had to let you go and pursue what you wanted to do. But he didn't want to. He wanted you to stick by his side and pursue your dream here. "I would stay if you did. But I think a part of me would also end up resenting you for asking that of me," you responded, your hand tightening its grip slightly around him. It was a gesture meant to comfort him but your words carried more weight than that simple squeeze did.

He knew how much you wanted to go, he'd been there when you filled out the application. From the process of setting your information in the system to reassuring you that you were qualified enough to get in, despite how much his heart ached at the thought of having to be without you. "It was just a hypothetical. I wouldn't ask you to do that for me," he quickly told you, taking a bite from his burrito to busy himself with doing something. Your happiness was much more of a priority than his own.

You were inclined on just leaving without saying goodbye but the thought of him thinking you abandoned him was almost too much for you to handle. You ran over to his house after you'd finished packing, hoping that he hadn't gone back to campus yet. "He's upstairs," Gabriel told you upon taking note of your sweat covered forehead, his nose scrunching up. "Thanks!" you called out as you made your way inside, almost tripping your two feet when you rushed up the stairs.

Baby, you were everything I ever wanted

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Miguel asked you, his lips barely grazing above your earlobe. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his lips move down to your neck, his lips parting as he kissed the side. "Yeah, I'm sure," you responded after you managed to regain your composure, your head lolling back to give him more access to your neck. He took that invitation eagerly, his lips pressed on every inch of your neck that he could access.

His teeth sunk down just hard enough to leave a mark on your skin, his way of making sure that you'd remember him. At least for the following week that the hickey lasted. He'd settle for that much. The night never progressed from a couple heated kisses exchanged between the two of you, a wanton need keeping your bodies pressed against one another. For a moment, it was as if nothing else in the world really mattered. You were just two people, not college students that would inevitably have to talk about what their future would be.

"I don't think I could ever just be friends with you. It's better if we just end things here," Miguel spoke up in the middle of the movie the two of you were watching, a boring scene from a movie about how robots took over the world. As if you weren't living through that now in the year 2079.

"Yeah, I guess so. Thank you for the time together," The breakup had been amicable, easy. There were no harsh feelings between the two of you, only simple understanding that the relationship wouldn't work out if the two of you dragged this on. However, as friendly as it had been, that didn't stop you from shedding a couple tears when you got home to finish packing. You almost wished he had given you a reason to hate him so that it would replace the sense of yearning you felt at the notion of leaving him behind.

That was supposed to be the end. You'd go on about your life without having to be around Miguel again, Without feeling his beefy arms wrap around you in the mornings as an attempt to keep you in bed for a little longer, or having his lips pressed against your forehead whenever you needed a bit of reassurance. That was until you found yourself in his bed when you came back to Nueva York to celebrate Gabriel’s birthday. It was the only time you allowed yourself to come back.

How Miguel allowed himself to fall into another cycle, he wasn't sure. Maybe because this one wasn't beaming with red flags. Or maybe because this one didn't leave him feeling like an unlovable mess the next day. Despite how many times he told himself that he wouldn't repeat what he'd done with Dana, he still found himself picking you up from every trip at the airport. Then again, this wasn't anything like the situation with Dana. Your relationship with him was healthy, you were good for him.

You'd usually end up at Miguel's apartment rather than your hotel room for most of the nights. The pent up frustration that had accumulated throughout the past year was unleashed on another, the sex all just that much more intense. "Couldn't stop thinking about seeing you again," he whispered against your skin, the words turning you into putty in his grasp. His kisses could follow soon after, his touch almost burning with how much desire he'd pent up. "Oh? And what were you planning on doing when you did see me again?" he would spend all night giving you the answer to that question.

On most occasions, you'd end up with your face buried in a pillow while he fucked you from behind. Your muffled moans would fill up the room, combined with the sound of rustling sheets underneath you as your grip tightened. "I missed you, princesa," he bent down to whisper in your ear, his lips trailing down your shoulder blade. The action in itself was sweet enough, but you couldn't focus on that with the way that his cock was stretching you out. "Missed you too," you barely managed to babble, your voice coming out hoarse.

Your hips rocked back into his, your ass jiggling with every thrust that he made. The grip he had on your hips would tighten, his balls slapping obscenely against your wet cunt. Your walls would clench around his cock, milking him for all the cum that he had in his balls while simultaneously coating his length with every drop of your slick that you could offer. "Fuck, right there!" he could make out a couple words of what you were saying from time to time, but he couldn't help but want to tease you about it. "Yeah, right here?" he mocked, his rhythm never faltering.

You were so drunk off his dick that you didn't realize he was mocking you half the time, simply nodding in response to whatever he told you. "Yeah, right there!" He loved the way your voice rose whenever his finger came down to play with your clit, the way the nub throbbed beneath his fingers for some kind of stimulation. These little breathy moans that you were letting out, the whispers of his name, they'd all remain imprinted in his memory as material whenever he needed some kind of release. That is, until the following year when he would have new material to work off of.

Miguel loved the way you looked whenever you were excited to share something with him or the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him at the airport waiting for you with a bag from your favorite fast food place. But the way that you looked whenever you unraveled underneath him was something that just simply couldn't be topped. Your legs shook violently as your orgasm approached, your walls tightening all that much more around him before unclenching to coat his cock in your release. His orgasm would follow suit, his cum filling up your cunt up to the brim.

Despite the fact that the two of you were completely able to and sometimes were even encouraged to, the two of you stayed loyal to one another even if this arrangement had no need to. As much as you wanted to try dating someone else, you knew that in the back of your head you'd just try to find Miguel in another person. And that you'd ultimately end up disappointed by the end of the affair. The two of you provided a sense of comfort in one another that wasn't easily replicated by another person. Or at least, you hoped that he felt the same way about you.

And as much as he tried, he couldn't get his hand to simulate the same pleasure that he felt while fucking you. It felt like a cheap replacement if he was being completely honest. His fist couldn't clench around his cock the way that your walls did, pulsing as your cunt milked him for all it could. His spit couldn't compare to the way your slick coated his shaft completely, the loud squelch that bounced off his walls whenever he pulled out. As pathetic as he felt for being looking forward to your yearly appearance, nothing could give him the same satisfaction you did.

You came back to Nueva York with a mission this time around. The office that you'd been working at after getting your degree had expanded throughout most of the east coast, a shiny job opportunity appearing right at your doorstep. You were going to tell Miguel that you planned on staying this time around, that you wanted to rekindle the old feelings you'd both been trying to suppress. You'd even resorted to practicing what you were going to say to him while you were on the airplane instead of clicking on one of the stupid Hallmark movies available on the flight.

Bought a wedding ring, it's in my pocket

You'd practically been bubbling with anticipation for the entire plane ride, different thoughts of how Miguel would react rummaging through your mind. Would he be excited? Would he leave the party to be with you? You felt all the breath leave your lungs as you stepped inside the party hall, your attention immediately going to Miguel. He wasn't wearing something too fancy, a white button down shirt and a pair of black slacks. Even then, you couldn't lie to yourself that he looked like sex on legs.

You set down the small gift bag you'd brought over for Gabriel, a new set of tools you heard him mention he needed on a FaceTime call last week. You made your way over to Miguel, a small smile appearing on your face as a look of recognition flashed across his features. "Hey," you greeted him once you were close, your hand up in a wave. Before he got the chance to say something, a woman came over to the two of you and handed him a drink before remaining by his side.

"Are you one of Miguel's friends from around here?" you asked the woman, given the fact that you hadn't heard any mention of her from Gabriel.

"Uh, no. This is actually my fiancée, Tempest," Miguel spoke up for the first time this night, your eyes widening as you did a double take on the pair standing in front of you. They'd even color coordinated their outfits tonight.

You could've sworn your heart dropped to your chest at the word fiancée. You forced your face to remain neutral despite the conflicting emotions rummaging inside of you. Your gaze flickered over to the woman, her ring finger accentuated with a pretty silver band, an expensive-looking diamond plastered right in the middle of it. Your throat constricted the longer that you stared at the ring, the sight eventually blurring into nothing until you forced yourself to look away when she pulled her hand back.

Your mind began to swarm with different thoughts, wondering when exactly did Miguel find the time to get engaged. Last year when you saw him, he hadn't even mentioned having any sort of commitment towards anyone. It was funny, thinking about it now. He'd taken you to the airport, his head tilting down to give you a small kiss on the cheek as he bid you goodbye. "I'll see you next year," he told you before you went through airport security. Now you wish you would've went back to his apartment instead of back home.

"Nice to meet you," you forced the words to roll out of your mouth, an unnatural smile taking place on your face. The type of smile that had your cheeks hurting from how hard you were forcing it. you shook her hand with just a little too much force before reminding yourself that it wasn't exactly her fault. If anything, this situation had been your fault. your fault for being so used to this comfortability, of the knowledge that he'd always be here waiting for you.

You'd gotten so used to coming to Nueva York to find Miguel at your beck and call that it didn't even cross your mind he would find someone. Someone who prioritized his happiness as much as he prioritized theirs. "Nice to meet you as well, Miggy here's told me a lot about you," she responded with a warm smile, unbeknownst to the internal struggles that rummaged through your head. Miggy? He'd gotten so pissed off when you called him that, but now he was acting casual about it?

"You mentioned that there was something you wanted to talk to me about?" Miguel's voice broke you out of your train of thought, making you realize you'd just been standing there awkwardly for a couple seconds. You looked away, the sight of him too painful to bear. Just the fact that the woman's arm was wrapped around his, the intimacy of the situation reminding you of what you'd never have again.

"Never mind, just forget it. I hope the two of you have a good time at this party. Congratulations once more," despite the fact that you had a million questions regarding the situation, you decided that it would be better not to ask them. At the end of the day, a couple questions wouldn't change the fact that he was still engaged. You forced yourself to remain polite before excusing yourself to go to the drinks table. You really needed to get fucked up right now.

You felt pathetic as you stood alone in the corner of the room, your fingers gripping the glass of beer as if it was your lifeline. All you could do was look out into the people smiling and having fun, a part of you wishing that it would be you instead. You tried your hardest to pretend when Gabriel came around, trying to dance with you, but the ploy fell through as soon as he dragged you to the dance floor. Your eyes met Miguel's for the first time that night, a flash of concern across his features after seeing your attempts to hide your pain.

But maybe, if you would've looked hard enough, you would've been able to see the same sense of longing lingering behind his eyes.

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[lazyjellyfish300]

Mom and Dad Are Fighting On Valentine's Day 💌

Miguel O'Hara x Fem wife reader

Synopsis: same universe as Mom and Dad Are Fighting On Christmas. You and Miguel are married with three kids: Gabi(his), Marcus(yours), and Anthony(you two had him together). He falls back into his workaholic patterns and you two have a big fight that nearly ruins your big Valentine's Day plans. Word count 5.2k

A/N: My last piece for my Valentine's Day special! I just love this man so much lol. Enjoy! Here's the first one I posted for V Day (this fic is completely unrelated to this one)

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT AT THE END (P IN V, FINGERING, CREAMPIE, ORAL F RECEIVING BUT DOESN'T GO INTO TOO MUCH DETAIL, BREEDING,) FAMILY PLANNING, TALKS OF DEPRESSION, TALK OF ABUSE, ANGST, MARRIAGE TROUBLES, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, MAYBE ALLUDES TO POSTPARTUM DEPRESSION, MENTION OF TRADITIONAL GENDER ROLES, OC SIBLINGS TO GABI, OC OF YOUR (READER'S) MOTHER. The OCS HAVE PRETTY MUCH LITTLE TO NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, READER'S MOTHER HAS NONE WHATSOEVER. ANTHONY FAVORS MIGUEL MORE IN TERMS OF LOOKS, THIS IS MORE DISCUSSED IN THE CHRISTMAS FIC BEFORE THIS.

-----

It was February 1st and one of the first nights you and your husband actually went to bed at the same time in weeks.

"Let's make a baby this Valentine's Day..." Miguel whispered as his large hand snaked under your arm to cup your breast. Your eyes fluttered, your phone slipped onto the ground, the spicy fanfic you were reading temporarily forgotten. You rolled your hips forward at his touch and panted softly.

"What...?"

"Hmmm....? ¿Quieres un otro niño conmigo, mi amor? (You want another child with me, my love?) He started laying hungry kisses on your neck, his breathing becoming more heavy and hot against your ear, which made you bite your lip. "We can have someone watch the kids...I'll take the day after off so we can have all night and everything..."

"Honey... the baby would be born in November?"

"Mhmmm..." Miguel was too busy caressing your now erect nipples and moving a hand to your crotch to really focus on your conversation.

"They'd be a Scorpio."

Miguel pulls back with an amused look on his face

"Baby...be serious. That's what you're worried about?"

You shrug. "I mean..."

Miguel scoffed and grabbed your breasts again. "I don't care when they're born...just want another little one running around...has your cute nose and everything..." His lips graze upwards on your neck until they come to rest on your jaw. "¿Qué dices?" (What do you say) he murmurs against your skin.

Your mind rushes with all kinds of thoughts. Anthony was quickly approaching his third birthday. You and Miguel had discussed adding just one more O'Hara to the family multiple times. It seemed like good timing. You missed the tender joy and even the sleep deprivation that a little baby brought with them.

You and Miguel had occasional quarrels over dividing housework here and there, but when it came to caring for the kids he was such a hands on father (when he wasn't going through one of his workaholic phases), that you didn't mind the extra labor a newborn demanded.

When people (rudely) asked you if you were done having kids, you couldn't give a firm no. One more child seemed like the perfect way to complete the family you and him built together. You were ready.

You look up at your husband, that irritatingly sexy smirk on his face as he gazes back down at you.

"Buy me dinner first?" You smirk back.

Miguel lets out a hearty chuckle, "I can handle that...I am a gentleman after all. Wouldn't want my pretty little wife thinking I have any ulterior motives..."

He leans down and you release more giggles as he blazes another trail of kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.

"You're impossible, O'Hara..."

----

The next morning, you two start your usual routine. You throw on your signature leggings and hoodie since you have three kids to wrangle, along with the morning carpool.

Miguel is rolling up his sleeves on his sweater as he leans over to plant a kiss on Gabi's and Marcus's heads as they scarf down their Fruit Loops cereal. He has to chase down little Anthony for a minute, and Anthony squeals as Miguel plants a goodbye kiss on his small chubby cheeks that are smeared with banana puree.

"Bye, baby..." Miguel gives your booty what he thought was a discreet love squeeze along with a peck on the lips, much to Gabi's chagrin.

"Gross!"

Miguel grins and opens the door to the garage.

"Mmm- don't forget! Gabi has her book report presentation at 2 pm today!" You call after him.

Shit... Miguel remembers. That's going to be a tough one to squeeze in his already stuffed schedule. "Okay, I'll see what I can do!"

You groan silently to yourself. You knew him well enough to know there was a 99% chance he wasn't coming based on that response alone. You plaster on a fake smile and try to shrug off your worry for the kids' sake. "Alright munchkins, the magic school express is leaving for school, pronto!"

----

After dropping off Gabi, Marcus and two of the neighbors' kids at school, you drop Anthony off at your mother's for some quality time while you catch up on housework. Or at least some of the housework because you end up showering and taking a 3 hour nap. The demands of the past week finally caught up to you. You groggily shut off the alarm on your phone. The clock said noon.

You text your husband, "Are you going to make it to Gabi's presentation?"

No answer.

But, that was typical. Miguel could get quite busy at HQ and not respond for hours. Still, you kept your hopes up that this time he'd make an honest effort to be there to support Gabi.

After lunch, you go back to your mother's and visit for a bit, then you and little Anthony head over to the school for Gabi's presentation promptly at 2 pm.

Gabi breaks out into a smile when she sees you and her baby brother enter the classroom. "Sissyyy!" Anthony babbles, waving his chunky arm.

Gabi runs to the back of the class and picks up little Anthony to give him a squeeze hello, he giggles furiously, kicking his dangling feet as she spins him around. You give both kids a warm smile then take Anthony in your lap as Gabi walks to the front of the classroom.

She hesitates for a moment and her eyes dart from you and Anthony to the door, as though she was expecting someone else to walk through. You get a sinking feeling in your gut when you realize she's looking for her papa. Her face falls a little bit when the door remains closed and the class goes silent, waiting for her to begin. You look at Gabi and give her an encouraging nod, not letting any of the disappointment you're feeling make itself known on your face.

Gabi takes a deep breath and starts to give her book report presentation. You hug Anthony a little closer to your chest as you both sit and watch, silently vowing to "accidentally" forget to cook Miguel dinner tonight.

Unfortunately, that night you didn't even get the opportunity to bitch him out because he came home some time around 3 am the next morning only to have to roll out of bed 3 hours later to beat the morning rush hour.

All of the excitement and positive momentum you thought you and Miguel were building after his suggestion to spend Valentine's Day together starts to chip away, day after day. He comes home in the wee hours of the night, missing dinner, homework, and bedtime. The kids seem to notice. Marcus snaps at you as you struggle to help him with his science homework. "Daddy knows how to do this stuff! I want him to help me, not you!"

You try to act like that comment didn't sting and answer in a calm but shaky voice. "Daddy's at work. I'm doing my best to help you and I need you to speak to me in a kinder tone, please."

Marcus grunts in frustration, stomping upstairs and slamming his door.

And, to make things worse, he begins picking more fights with Gabi than usual. Doors get slammed and toys get thrown as early as 8 am when a dispute arises over who gets to pick which cartoon is playing on the TV.

In the evenings, you have to scream at the top of your lungs and separate them after they start kicking each other under the table while little Anthony wails because he hates what's being served for dinner. The night ends with everyone in tears and all three kids eventually sleeping in your bed because they're too upset to stay in their rooms.

Miguel winds up on the couch or doesn't even come home at all, leaving you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach with a painful side of resentment.

On Valentine's Day, you wake up and look over. Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are all in a pile lying against each other on Miguel's side of the bed. It's 5 am. You slide out of bed, taking care not to disrupt your sleeping babies.

You walk quietly downstairs, a storm brewing in your chest, a seething monologue you plan to unleash on your careless husband asleep on the couch again. You had his favorite bourbon, new cologne, his favorite snacks, and some new socks that you were going to set out for him to wake up to. He could forget about all of that now. He didn't even bother to get you anything, or even climb into bed with all of you at least when he got home.

You were preparing to hold his feet to the fire and ask where the hell he's been, if he's remembered he even has a family, and, if his sorry ass doesn't start coming home at a reasonable time or even issue a nearly two weeks overdue apology to Gabi for letting her down, that he can scrap your Valentine's Day plans, cancel the hotel, and you'll return all his gifts back to the store. Things haven't been this bad since Christmas when you nearly got divorced.

But, he's not there. The couch is bare. He spent another complete day and night at work. Didn't even come home so he could be there for you on fucking Valentine's Day. At this point, you just feel like crying. Frustration reached its boiling point and threatens to bubble over. You check your phone, the last text you sent to him was last night at 5 pm.

"Making dinner. Marcus is struggling with his science homework again and got upset with me. Will you please come home at a reasonable time tonight so you can talk to him about it? Are we still on for tomorrow and letting my mom watch the kids?"

The message was opened and read at 7:45 pm with no response. You walk outside onto your porch and call him, pacing back and forth restlessly as the phone rings.

----

Miguel walks through a portal back into his office at HQ, Felicia Hardy and Ben Reilly in tow. Felicia and Ben are bantering back and forth as Miguel notices an incoming call from you. Miguel's eyes are bloodshot, not having had a blink of sleep in nearly 18 hours

"Someone's in troubleee," Felicia teases. Miguel tries to brush off the comment as he nervously answers and utters a loud "FUCK!" when he realizes what today is.

Deep down, Miguel knew he had been getting worse lately. Diving head first into his work, so adamant on protecting the multiverse that he made himself blind to your needs and the needs of his children, seemingly a purposeful self-sabatoge. It was something you both unpacked early on in your relationship for you to eventually discover he had a form of depression.

A lot of it could be traced back to all those times where he was a boy who grew up way too fast as he shielded Gabriel from the obvious abuse his step dad inflicted on their family. He would take his responsibilities almost a little too seriously, always needing to be the solution to every problem, even if it meant setting himself on fire, and to the detriment of anyone close to him.

You two also battled over the age old argument the majority of married couples faced: the disproportionate division of visible and invisible labor. This was no doubt something that was ingrained in both of you growing up as a pattern that you two were fighting to try and break: the woman handles everything related to the home and kids, the permanent project manager of the family with little to no emotional assistance from the man. Meanwhile , the man works full time and makes such a healthy living that he can sustain her and multiple kids on it at once. The only domestic tasks he should be concerned with are the lawn and any random repairs around the house.

You were very supportive of his mental health of course, but it was times like these where you just needed him home, needed to feel like you didn't have to weather this storm on your own. A very distinct part of the vows you made to each other on your wedding day.

Sometimes you found yourself crying at night or when a love song came on, asking yourself if marriage was really this hard, or if love and the ideas of it that got planted in your head from an early age were just things of fiction. Something you clearly weren't meant to experience. Hell, none of the women on your side of the family did. Your grandma had a shitty marriage but stayed, your mom and dad divorced, and your aunt couldn't make any of her three marriages work.

You hear Miguel answer and you exhale with relief. "Did you get my text?..."

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded, "Yeah...Happy Valentine's Day... Lo siento, mi alma..."

(I'm sorry, my soul)

You cross your arms, his greeting and weak apology completely going over your head. "So, where the hell have you been? What have you been up to? I've said maybe 10 words to you in the past nearly two weeks. I've been doing this all by myself..." Your voice thickens and you begin to cry at last, "If you're hurting again you need to tell me..."

Miguel starts to interrupt you but you bulldoze over him, not letting him put out the fire that was lit underneath you. "I need you home. The kids need you home. I am not celebrating Valentine's Day with you in a hotel room tonight if you do not come home at a reasonable time this afternoon to see the kids before we need to drop them off at my mom's."

At that point, Ben makes Felicia giggle loudly in the background. The tone is flirtatious and breathy. The sound is awfully incriminating as it comes through on the other line. Miguel shoots a frantic, pissed off look in their direction.

Your heart does a death drop from your chest to your stomach as you hear it. The deep seated insecurity that always hung in the very back of your mind that liked to make unwelcome appearances, usually at the worst of times in your marriage. An unpleasant symptom of having a husband who was exceedingly physically attractive to practically anyone who laid eyes on him.

The fear he would eventually tire of you and leave you high and dry for someone else. Someone prettier. Someone younger. Someone who wasn't bogged down by responsibilities. Someone who hadn't shown him the worst of who they could be. Someone whose personality was more contagious than yours. Someone more intelligent and successful. Someone who was everything you weren't.

"Who the hell is that...?" you ask through clenched teeth.

Miguel's hand comes up, covering nearly his entire face as he weakly tries to defend himself. "That was....Felicia..."

Felicia. Of fucking course. Here we go again...You hadn't worried about her since the last argument you two had over Christmas when Miguel foolishly decided to throw it in your face that she was more pleasant to be around as a mindless way to hurt you in that moment.

The tiniest seed of insecurity planted that would cause you to spiral with overthinking whenever her name was mentioned, even when you knew she really had a thing for Ben and Miguel put in work to reassure you of the fact that you were still the sole apple of his eye. Miguel had probably just reset whatever progress you two made since then ten steps backwards.

He frantically tries to save himself on the phone but you're already checking out as we speak. "But Ben's here too! Ben's here, too! Babe! We were on Earth-5129, we've been stuck on missions that take all day. Their Sinister Six has been causing all sorts of problems. I'm not alone with anyone, baby, I swear to God. I just got carried away with work-"

"Oh, oh you got carried away alright..." Your tears are hot and salty streaks on your cheeks. "The kids and I will be staying at my mom's. Have fun on your little mission."

"Baby don't hang up I swear to God-..."

You hang up and set your phone down on the ground, crouching down so your head is in your hands and you're squatting in a near fetal position, not moving much except your shoulders gently shaking, causing you to try and rock in a soothing motion as you sob uncontrollably.

You cry and cry. You cry for yourself. You cry at the fact that you feel like a single married mother. You cry because you're frustrated you're not good enough at math to help Marcus with his homework. You cry at the memory of Gabi's disappointed, sad face when she had to give her presentation without her favorite person there to watch. You cry about your body and how you haven't felt beautiful lately, that unkind, irrational thought that perhaps if you were prettier, then Miguel would pay more attention.

You cry about not having enough time in the day to do the things you want to do and how motherhood literally has no breaks to just let you breathe. You cry about Miguel and how this marriage at times feels harder than it should be, wondering what happened to the man you married and just wanting him back.

After several minutes, you just sit and stare at the slightly overcast morning, the cold slowly announcing its presence, your emotions and stress had rendered you insensitive to its chill for most of the time you were out there. You tug your fingers into the sleeves of your pajamas and waddle back inside, pausing at the main floor bathroom. You make sure there is no evidence of tears before you get your kids ready for another day, determined to at least make their Valentine's Day magical even if yours was already off to a shit start. Emotions can wait, motherhood doesn't stop.

----

Later that night, Gabi and Marcus are passed out in the guest bedroom at your mom's, sugar high worn off once again, and little Anthony is snoozing peacefully in your mom's lap. She quietly rocks him in the recliner in her living room, her nose buried in a book.

She hears Miguel enter quietly, and she looks up. Disapproval obvious in her expression as she bookmarks her spot.

You didn't tell her you and Miguel were fighting, but she knows her daughter well enough to know something was wrong, and he was the cause.

Miguel greets her in a hushed tone so as to not wake Anthony. "Thank you for watching the kids tonight..."

Your mom acknowledges with a curt nod of her head. Miguel sits down. Before he can speak, your mom interrupts. "She's at the hotel..." She pauses, letting Miguel absorb the information. "She wouldn't tell me the truth, but I know my daughter well enough to know she's hurt."

Miguel takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. "Yeah... I messed up big time."

Your mom continues, "All the kids are asleep. If I were you, I'd go fix it..." She takes a deep breath of her own, Anthony stirs a little. "I love you like a son, Miguel. But, I'm gonna say this nicely: you work too much. One day, before you know it, these sweet kids are gonna be all grown up, and you and your wife won't even know what to talk about anymore because you never made your marriage a priority."

Miguel nods slowly, taking in her words.

"Don't become strangers in your marriage like I did." Your mom says, looking sincerely into Miguel's eyes. It clicks for Miguel at last, and he knows what he needs to do. He just prays that you'll even let him get close enough to let you hear him out.

Miguel gives your mom a warm smile of appreciation and a stroke to Anthony's hair before he ventures out into the February air, off to go win your heart back once again.

----

You're curled up in the king sized bed in the executive suite of one of the fanciest hotels nearby. You and Miguel stayed there the night before you eloped, and it was your first time staying there since. You would have cancelled the room altogether, but it was too late by the time Miguel messed up, so you figured you'd enjoy it, even if you had to do it alone, dammit. If you were going to cry, then at least you'd be doing it while wearing the hotel's fancy bathrobe on the top floor with chocolate covered strawberries and champagne.

You popped one in your mouth to try and distract from your tears that threatened to leak once again as you watched Letters to Juliet on the flat screen TV. You sniffed loudly, and there was a loud booming knock at the door.

You stayed right where you were, having a hunch it was your husband crawling back, biting another chocolate covered strawberry, this time chasing it with a longer sip of champagne.

The knocks get louder and you mutter a "shit" when you hear Miguel start calling your name, his fist relentless against the heavy oak door. You get up cautiously, creeping towards the knocking.

"Abre la puerta, cariño, por favor!!!" (Open the door, dear, please!) Miguel yells. "Stop doing this shit baby, I'M YOUR HUSBAND! TALK TO ME!"

The neighbors across the hall open up their door and start chastising him. Something about "keep it down people are trying to sleep", "this is the first night we've had away in MONTHS", "take your relationship problems outside", to which Miguel loudly hisses it's none of their goddamn business.

You open the door, yank your disheveled, tall ass husband into your room, and slam it in the face of the Karens. Problem solved. You huff and turn around, making your way back to your champagne throne, not saying a word.

Miguel makes a loud sigh, trying to settle from 100 back to 0. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry..." His brown locks are unkempt, a little bit of stubble peppers his chin. His crimson eyes are surrounded by little bloodshot lines. In his hands he has a slightly wilted bouquet of pink roses, one of the last bundles they had available at the grocery store, and in the other, a little pack of caramel Ghirdadellis being held by a tiny stuffed gray hippo.

You take the stuffed animal from Miguel with a neutral expression on your face. "He can stay," you wiggle the hippo in your hand. "But you can't. "

Miguel groans. "Baby, NOTHING happened. I swear on our children."

You raise an eyebrow at the bold statement. "On our children?"

Miguel sits on the edge of the bed, pulling at the hem of your bathrobe. "If I'm lying, let God Himself strike me down where I stand."

"You're sitting," you murmur, unable to resist. Miguel gives an exhausted gasp of laughter.

"You know what I mean..." He says, trying to steer the conversation back on target. "I would NEVER do that to you in a million years. I was an ass, I know. I've been taking too much time at work and I neglected you. I neglected the kids..." He sighs and leans into your chest. You silently wrap your hands around his head, pressing him into you.

Miguel closes his eyes, taking a deep smell of your scent. All of his stress seemingly being tugged out of his head with every moment he stays squished against your heart. He tries to explain, "Ben and Felicia were laughing, that's what you heard on the phone..."

You take a steady intake of breath. "Miguel..."

"Te lo prometo...." (I promise you) He says earnestly, looking up into your eyes from where he's still sitting on the edge of the bed. "Te lo prometo" (I promise you) he repeats for emphasis this time, his voice reducing to a whisper, crimson eyes wide as though his pupils could pull you in and make you see the truth.

"You don't need to explain yourself..." You say, bringing your hands to cup his face. His eyes fluttered closed and he leans into them. When he reopens them, a thin layer of tears is evident.

When Miguel cries, you can't help but cry also. You press your tongue against the back of your teeth, and go back to playing with his hair instead to hold them at bay. "How'd we get like this, baby?..."

That sentence utterly breaks his heart because he's all too aware of his role he's played in being a strain on your marriage by now. This was unlike you two. He's unable to speak but a million thoughts sprint through his head. Life happened. We stopped making each other the priority. Yes, the kids' needs would ultimately trump everything else while they were still very young, but when was it going to be your time again? Instead of going back to the way things were, you'd have to get to know each other again.

Meeting yourselves again as the new people you evolved into, reunited over those tender words you promised each other on wrinkled paper you stole from a printer in a cramped city office building nearly 5 years ago. Your lovely face bore a jittery smile underneath your department store veil, Miguel's expression tender as though he could power a city from the affection on his face alone.

Now, on this late Valentine's Day night , he beckons you to sit next to him, which you do. He lays you backwards, following you and propping himself on his elbow. The shift causes one tear to escape, creeping into your hair. You sniffle, and Miguel looks at you with concern. "Life got in the way again...it's not your fault. It's mine..." He admits shamefully.

You stare at the ceiling, more tears trickling into your hair before you look at Miguel. "Why'd you marry me?"

Miguel gives you a soft smile and answers in a hushed tone. "I decided one day that I didn't want to be without you." He pauses and his smile disappears momentarily, then creeps back up again. "Do you still wanna be without me right now?"

You shake your head. "No...I was mad. But that doesn't mean I really want you to go. I've just missed you, baby... *sigh*.....can we end the night together?"

Miguel's expression liquefies, "Course we can...and tomorrow too, right?" He scoops you even closer. We'll take our time, maybe get breakfast at that diner you love? Take you shopping?...I got a lot to make up for," he chuckles.

You hum, bringing your fingertips against his broad back. "Yes please." You let yourself drown in his hug for several moments, then you say, "We really need to stop fighting and making up on all the major holidays. Hallmark is going to catch wind of it and make a film adaptation, just watch."

Miguel beams, a light snicker from his chest vibrates against your body. "Haha...you're right, baby. Can't keep letting them get away with it..." His hand moves to grip your ass. "I'll wait til St. Patrick's Day to act up instead..."

"Babe. No."

"I'm kidding!"

"No, just, no," you shake your head, trying to wiggle out of his grasp but he holds you firmly down, both hands moving under your robe.

"You're right, my apologies, Mrs...." he croons.

"O'Hara. That's Mrs. O'Hara to you." You prod the tip of his nose.

"Mmm..."

Miguel kisses the sides of your neck, his lips still contain the tiniest bit of chill from the outside. You sigh into it, your sweet sounds of surrender tickling his ears, evolving into a wave of warmth that covers every inch of him, making him tremble for what's happening next.

"Mrs.... O'Hara..." At the sound of his name, he slides two fingers into your pussy. Your lips fall open at the intrusion, a whine bouncing off the walls.

"Shh...." Miguel soothes, his fingers start moving in a circular pattern.

"Fffuck...," your back arches, encouraging him to go deeper. You've reached the point where you're completely vulnerable. Falling apart to your husband's sweet thick fingers.

Miguel kisses the top of your breasts, still coaxing the walls of your pussy. "There she is..."

"I love you so much..." you whine, almost desperate.

His eyes are completely intoxicated by the utter desire leaking out of your body and into his hand. "I love you, sweetheart..." his voice barely above a whisper, as though any noise that escaped him threatened to rip you out of the haze of pleasure you both were currently drowning in.

You lift your chin, capturing his lips in yours. Soft and wet, they move seamlessly as they had nearly thousands of times before. A familiar song and dance you two engaged in, yet seemed to take you to a place that felt brand new each time you did.

"Make love to me..." your murmur buzzes softly against his lips, leaving his breath hanging hot and heavy.

Miguel answers by making his kisses a little harder. Lingering for a second longer, his tongue weaving a little deeper, leaving yours burning for more contact. A steady stream that turned into a faucet. Every bit of you yearns for him. This man you loved so much. And he yearns for the same in return. He'd happily give into you any time.

He praises you as you take his cock. Your eyes closing momentarily to accommodate his size. He traces your lips, letting the bottom one drag down just a little, leaving an opening for his thumb. You suck it greedily, the callouses of his thumb massaging against the ridges of your tongue. You moan as you taste his skin, earning a low grunt from him in return.

"Mi luz(My light).....so, so gorgeous..."

The corners of your lips curve into a smirk as you continue, but you release it when Miguel begins thrusting harder.

"Shit...." Your head presses back against the pillows and Miguel leans closer to you, his soft breaths fanning you, his fingers combing over your hairline as he holds you in place.

"Swear your pussy drives me insane no matter how many times we've fucked..." Miguel groans in a low voice.

You wind your thighs tighter around him, your body on the verge of overstimulation. "Cum in me ... remember? Wanna give you another baby..."

Miguel lets out a moan louder in volume than any of the previous ones. "¿En serio, amor?" (Seriously, love?)

"Please....."

Your bodies intertwined in a knot of passion as he fills you completely with his cum. You hold him tight, intimate moments like these that only the two people occupying the bed would remember. The raw, dirty memory of the night you hopefully conceived your last child with him.

He stays buried inside you, not ready to separate just yet. Letting the afterglow of the passion wash over you both for several more moments.

Soon after, you're enjoying the steam of the shower as you and Miguel take turns washing another, the smacks of your lips together echoing off the tile leading to a wet slap as your hand comes up to steady yourself against the wall as Miguel dives between your thighs once again.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mrs. O'Hara..."

----

🥰🥺

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spotify #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel o hara x y/n #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara angst #miguel ohara angst #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #Spotify

[moralesluvr]

what do you think miguel’s reaction would be if you told him that he scares you?

oh boy.

you're safe with me ft. miguel o'hara

♡ pairings & aus: miguel o'hara x black!fem!reader ♡ summary: after getting into a heated argument with your boyfriend, you tell him that he's scaring you, which crumbles his heart ♡ warnings: miguel being OD per usual bc why are you yelling rn? angst with a happy ending ♡ a/n: first miggy fic woop woop ur the best for requesting this! love ya ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

YOU WEREN'T CRYING UNTIL HE SAID IT.

You weren't crying until Miguel starting lashing out at you, angrily balling up wads of important papers and hurling them at the wall, whether you happened to be a barrier between it and the papers, it wasn't really his concern right now. All he cared about was getting this new burst of anger out, and of course, it had to be something to do with you.

Miguel loved you, you knew this. He's said it, he's shown it to you, and he has no problem admitting it to other people. But sometimes you felt as if a person really loved you, why on earth would they be acting like this?

He stood behind his work station, fists angrily swelling as they curled themselves up into a ball. You could hear him breathing, but he refused to speak to you, because he knew that he would say things that he'd immediately regret if he did.

You, on the other hand, were standing up against the wall, now useless papers littered at your feet. Sniffled sobs ricocheted off of the brickwork behind you, your tears behind caressed by the wood floors that you stood on. You started for the door before stopping in your tracks, "Miguel. Look at me."

At first, he doesn't. But when he doesn't hear your footsteps fading to walk out, he slowly pivots on his heel, walking over to you heavily. You look up at his deep brown eyes, murmuring softly, "You....Y-You scared me. And I'm not...I'm not talking about past tense, either. You scare me, Miguel. I am scared of you."

You watched as the man before you crumbled at the mention of you being scared at him. Never in your life have you seen him look so sad, so downhearted, like he had been defeated by his own actions. His eyes are glossy as he reaches for you, and you subtly flinch, but he picks up on it.

"I..." He starts, biting the inside of his cheek at a loss for words. His big, calloused hand comes up to hold your cheek, which you sink into his palm when he caresses you. "I'm sorry, cariño, I-I didn't mean to...scare you." He whispers the last part of the sentence like it's a plague, as if he was disgusted by the contents of your conversation. You sniffle and look up at him through wet eyelashes, "'S okay."

"No, no, it's not." Miguel protests, shaking his head at your sweet response. He then brings both hands up to your face as he holds you dearly, so tender, as if he's scared to cause any harm to you.

He continues to talk, "Ay coño, mi preciosa. I hope you're not afraid of me-- I don't want you to be. You shouldn't have to be. You deserve better than that."

"Then be better, Miguel." You stated, your jaw hardening. He picks up on that and he rubs his thumb along your jawline and cheeks, murmuring sweet nothings and apologies to you. He nods,

"I will, I promise, I will."

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @enj4i // @chrissytalia // @chaoticevilbakugo // @motheroffae

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @my3tumbles // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @kopiivie // @ellatienesuscosas // @venuswash3re // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @wisepoetrycheesecake // @clearskiiiess // @d3atht3hek1d // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @caulifloweron // @aizawassimpblog // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @ishqani // @mookiebut

𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ♧: @lipstickstainedshells // @mmst4rz // @ilyless // @lordbugs

#‧₊˚✩ — 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒! #‧₊˚✩ — 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒! #miguel o'hara #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara angst #miguel o hara fluff #miguel o hara angst #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse

[tarjapearce]

What caused Gabriel and Miguel to fight in the Soccer Family AU?

Oh nonny 🫠.

Older Brother

Warnings: Angst, sibling relationships, emotional distress. Hurt.

Summary: Good intentions aren't always welcomed.

Art by: @justanunknownartist on X

'It's only a party, Miguel. Relax.'

That's what Gabriel had said.

'I won't drink too much.' he said but was unable to keep his end of the silent agreement between them, as Miguel helped him to his bedroom.

Someone had contacted him after Gabriel tried to start a fistfight with a random attendee just because the latter took the last shot of tequila.

"Migue" Gabriel hiccuped and stumbled on his steps, giggling as Miguel hauled him on his feet back again, but Gabriel was proving himself difficult cause he was trying to get a hold of his face.

"Gabri-" He pushed his brother's hand away and this tried harder to take a hold once again

"Compórtate, verga!" (Fucking behave)

Gabriel giggled to himself and supported his weight on Miguel's shoulders, only to be thrown later at his bed with such ease it made him even more dizzy for a second. The youngest of the O'Hara didn't think it twice and curled in his bed.

"Miguel"

Gabriel called and tried to fix his drunk gaze in him, unable to decide on which of the Miguels with him he'd talk.  He went for the one that untied his shoes laces and tucked him in.

"Don't tell..." Another drunk hiccup, "Don't tell mom, ok?"

"Ya duérmete, cabrón." Miguel grumbled, more annoyed than anything. He was on his way of meeting you for your weekly corny movie night when a friend of Gabriel contacted him.

Several apologies and Te Quiero later, he drove back to fetch his dear brother that definitely would have an earful of his mind once he was sober enough to understand how bad his alcoholism was getting.

Although Miguel drank, he didn't do it as often as Gabriel did. Partying every weekend, sometimes in between working days and that had earned him a memo back at work.

It was rare and out of his character to get wasted. But Gabriel concerned him.

His red eyes regarded his brother once more, trying to figure what was going on. But communication wasn't a trait born within the O'Hara men. At least not in a proper or healthy way.

Was it a woman that had hurt him again? Probably. Although Gabriel's social butterfly skills was something he sometimes wished to have, Miguel knew it was a double edged weapon. It had granted Gabri a magnet to attract all sorts of people and not all of them were good, like their intentions.

But all Miguel could do at the moment was bringing him a tall glass of water, some painkillers and let him rest.

---

Gabriel's head throbbed. Every breath he inhaled came in synch with the neverending pounding in his head at the minimal movement, but gathered up the courage to sit on the bed to drink the pills and water.

The smell of food wafted past his bedroom's door, tickling his nose, luring him out of the bed. A sudden rush of nauseas flooded his throat and he ran towards the bathroom to soothe his discomfort.

The toilet flushed and he rinsed his mouth to then wash it. Miguel was preparing breakfast, so Gabriel washed his face, trying to give himself a less daunting and hungover look.

Although the smell made his mouth water, his stomach warned him to not eat anything. But coffee, he could do that.

Gabriel inhaled sharply when advancing towards the shelf past Miguel's swallowing frame. He took a mug and poured some of the coffee in it. Sugarless, of course.

The relief would've been almost immediate if Miguel hadn't clinked loudly a spoon on his cup. Gabriel's teeth clenched at the sudden noise.

"C'mon. Was that necessary?"

Miguel chuckled, but it quickly vanished as a frown made it's way on his face.

"Gabriel"

Miguel called but his baby brother groaned annoyed, "Not now, Migue. Please."

"Then when, cabrón?!" Miguel roared and Gabriel tightened his grip on his mug, unable to meet him directly in his eyes.

He had fucked up, that much was true.

"¡Es la tercera puta vez que uno de tus amigos me llama para que te vaya a recoger porque te pusiste hasta el culo de borracho y quieres andar de pendejo madreándote a la gente! ¿Qué verga te pasa?" (it's the third fucking time one of your friends call me cause you've gotten wasted and you wanna fuck around and fight people. The fuck's wrong with you?)

And for Miguel to go full on spanish on him, meant he was sick of it.

"Ya, ya te oí. Cállate. No lo volveré a hacer." (Alright, alright. I heard you. Shut up. Won't do it again.)

"Bullshit. You think I don't know about the memos? About the fucking warnings you get at your work cause you go and present yourself hungover."

"It was one fucking time! One!"

"Still enough for you to start losing your credibility, pendejo!"

Gabriel clicked his tongue and gulped down the coffee.

"Is it because of that woman Kasey?"

She had dumped him yet again matter-of-factly. And oh how well Miguel could read him. Gabriel wasn't friends with rejection after all and he rather indulge things that kept him busy, like alcohol and other new companies than openly talk.

"Dude, fucking stop acting like mom-

Miguel couldn't help but fist his hands on each side of himself, trying to ground himself at the sudden fit of rage that worked hard to get to his brain.

Why? Why his beloved Ma always had to screw things for him even when she wasn't present?

"Why the fuck you always bring her up?"

"Cause that shuts you up! God you're so annoying at times, Miguel. Always wanting to control everything around you!."

"Cause I fucking care! Do you see mom around with you when you get fucking drunk and all full of puke? No, you see me. She's too fucking busy doing her life away from us."

Gabriel's anger rose faster than a self rising flour, increasing it's density with each word Miguel spilled. He wasn't in the mood to be lectured, and his ammo to shut his elder brother was running short.

"I still talk to her, that says alot on it's own."

"But of course you would! She tolerates your shit and still treats you like a baby while I'm the one that deals with the whole mess none of you has the fucking guts to face!"

"None fucking asked you to!"

Oh, but now it was personal. Gabriel regretted a bit too late the words, cause Miguel's eyes narrowed dangerously at him, but once his temper, George's trademark on his blood, shone through; nothing could stop it. Not even the flash of hurt crossing Miguel's eyes.

"You say you care? All I can see is you tearing people apart with your... your fucking snarky replies and being a hypocrite." Gabriel hissed

"Hypocrite maybe, but not ungrateful." Miguel's red irises hardened and turned devoid of any emotion

"I never asked you to do shit for me, Miguel!"

Yet he would crawl to his bed when a storm was too much to bear on his own lonely bed. Yet he'd be the one that would hold and soothe him when Conchata argued nonstop with George and things got two rowdy between them. Yet he was and always been there for him, selflessly, ever since he was able to think on his own.

Miguel was by any mean perfect, but he was there, watching him grow up, supporting him in his own way. Taking the mantle that neither his Ma or Papa were functional enough to wear, despite his young age.

But he couldn't turn back time and bite those words back. Cause that would spare him the deep plunge in his heart at the sight of Miguel turning his back on him, shoulders defeated and jaw clenched. He nodded a couple of times before placing all his attention the now cold breakfast before him.

"I think it's time for you to start looking for a place."

Miguel's deflated tone sent a chill down his spine. Gabriel's mouth and heart was still on fight mode.

"Now you're just being petty."

But even that biting remark didn't make Miguel flinch or look at him. Just earned him a disappointed shake of his head and a chuckle that could be mistaken for a sob.

"No, you ain't worth it. Just taking my new relationship seriously. I've got other things to deal with than doing this on a regular basis with you. I... I think I do deserve a bit of peace too."

Gabriel's eyes bore into Miguel's back as he talked, silently pleading to look at him. But this time, his elder brother didn't spare him a glance, not even a disdainful one. He had hurt more than Miguel's pride.

"Have it your way then."

Gabriel left him. Leaving some minutes later after the fresh altercation.

Ungrateful as he was, Gabriel knew when to give him space. Once he was sure Gabri had been gone, his throat released a shaky breath.

His hands shook as he grabbed his phone, quickly wiping the liquid pain that blurred his sight to then dial your number.

"I'm on my way. Need to..." he cleared his throat. "I need to talk. Ok?" A brief silence, "Hmm. Need anything over there?"

He wiped his face once more and bit his lip for a second.

"Gotcha. Ya te llego." (I'll be there soon)

#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #soccer family ⚽🕷️ #atsv miguel #mama o'hara #gabriel o'hara #miguel ohara angst

[fqshionkilla]

I AM BEGGING someone to make a GOOD fanfic about a badass spider-woman and everyone is down-bad for her and she’s independent and intimidating??? all i need is a good across the spider verse story that i can imagine myself in and giggle to before i die.

#miguel ohara #hobie brown #miles morales #peter parker #gwen stacy #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara angst #miguel ohara fluff

[safixiovi]

Yes. Yes. I have daddy issues. Yes. That’s why I couldn’t remove this man on my mind. It hurts. I don’t know I’m feeling roller coaster feelings in the middle of the night. Listening to Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood. I know it’s weird I’m sorry. Might delete this but i wanna know do ppl with daddy issues like him too

#miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #miguel #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #astv miguel #miguel ohara angst #miguel o hara #marvel

[drefear]

Reader thinks Miguel is cheating idea I had.

Miguel x reader (angst)

TW: (sorta) cheating, anxiety, panic attack.

Miguel?

A pain shot through your chest as he stood there through the window, hands shaky as your eyes welled with tears while you watched him hold her arm and pull her close. How could he? Your hands grabbed at your throat, as if the oxygen was burning your esophagus. HIs eyes bore into her as he pleaded with her about something and you stepped backwards, about to dash for safety and privacy, but your movement must have caught his attention as he made eye contact with you. That was it, your webs shot towards the tallest building you could see and you swung through Nueva York, ignoring how he pushed towards the window you saw him through as you ran, water blurring your vision as you avoided cars.

“Cariño!” Your nickname from Miguel was heard around the city as his voice found your sensitive hearing, the distant hiss of his webs also following you. Glancing behind you, his body moved fast as he trailed! “It’s-”

You swung a hard right through the alleys and snuck through a small alcove, running into an abandoned hospital and hiding into one of the rooms. You sat on the bed and huffed, catching your breath as your emotions were drowned by the adrenaline of being chased. You pushed a button and lowered your mask, then putting it back on as you heard footsteps from a distance away.

Footsteps you knew all too well.

“Cariño, please listen to me.” His voice was far away, but not far enough. You glanced around. The window was broken, but you’d fit through the hole and you weren’t ready to face him because you knew that you would just break down once he looked at you with those beautiful red eyes. The thought of those rubies staring at you made your lungs burn and stomach lurch.

The feeling of something grabbing your wrist broke you from your thoughts, halfway out of the window when you were pulled into something hard and warm.

“Stop running from me!” He begged and his arms wrapped around you as your body began to wrack with sobs, hiccupping. You needed to be away from him, to process everything you were thinking and feeling, everything you saw.

Shoving him backwards, his claws made thick shreds into your costume and a few even made gashes in your skin, hearing him clatter into the hospital bed and tables as you jumped from the window. You swung once more into the brisk air of the city and gulped down the harsh cries that flooded you.

Jumping into the headquarters, you gathered yourself briefly as you walked past the crowds of spider-people and rushed to the anomaly correction room. Seeing everyone working, you found an empty room and hit a few buttons on your watch. As you were about to send yourself home, your watch shut off.

“No, no, no!” You chidded and hit it a few times, trying more as you panicked. “Lyla!” You shouted and the little hologram appeared. “What is happening-”

“He told me to.” He shrugged, “Why? What’s wrong? Are you bleeding?” Her voice made you practically dizzy with anxiety.

“He’s cheating on me! Let me go home!” You screamed and ran your fingers against your mask, seeing her horrified expression.

“I can’t- Ok, hold on.” She watched you pace and your watch turned back on, but it was too late.

“Lyla, off.” His voice made you freeze as you choked from the feeling of him behind you. His footsteps were deafening as your body shook gently, not moving a muscle. Once you felt the heat radiating off of him, a sound stuttered through your lips like a broken, wounded animal. He reached to grab your waist, but your hand caught his and you spun to face him, hardening your face to be able to look at him straight before snatching his hands away from you. Webbing his hands to the wall near him, you fell backwards over a chair as he stared down at your hurt features.

Tapping your wrist, you opened a portal back to your universe and ran through. “Please!” He begged, as you disappeared.

Once you were gone, he snapped his hand out of your webbing, shaking it off. Lyla appeared next to his face, arms crossed. “I didn’t cheat. I was talking to someone about my daughter.” He sighed, “But she got the wrong idea and made a move.” Lyla shifted and dropped her imposing stance, then glanced behind them where the portal closed.

“Why not go after her?”

“I think she made it clear she’s not ready to talk to me yet…”

His shoulders sagged as he sat in a chair near the conference table, running a hand through his hair.

“Mierda.”

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel #angst #miguel ohara angst

[fairlyang]

Let you break my heart again 🕷️

you are in love with your best friend

w/c: 999

pairing: miguel o’hara x reader

tags: kinda angst? you’re so in love, he doesn’t feel the same, heartbreak, shitting n crying, slightly delusional

notes: the grip this song has had on me the past two weeks- this idea came to me last week I just HAD TO-

part two

You had been feeling down the entire day since you saw Miguel post the new girl he had been talking to and calling her his girlfriend with today’s date on the caption.

Him calling you a couple hours after asking if you wanted to go to a party with him only added salt to the wound.

You have been hopelessly and desperately in love with him since your freshmen year of high school.

8 years.

8 years of silence.

8 years of torture.

No one even looked his way in high school because he, alongside you, were known as the science nerds of the school. You obviously didn’t care, if anything it made falling for him that much predictable.

At least for anyone with eyes and good at deciphering body language.

Which Miguel wasn’t.

Somehow he never realized and you never had the balls to confess your love to him.

After graduating high school he had quite possibly the biggest glow up (unbeknownst to you he had turned into spider-man) and first semester of uni changed everything for him.

He had girls eating out of the palm of his hand and practically falling to their knees for him as if they hadn’t been using him to do their homework just a few months back.

Miguel didn’t seem to care or see through all the girl’s intentions.

Meanwhile you had liked him when he would wear nerdy little crewnecks and those thick glasses that had now been long abandoned.

You liked him when he was getting brutally bullied and were the only one to ever stick up for him, but it never going well for either of you.

You liked him when he was going through a hard time with his mom and relied on you heavily for nearly everything.

You liked him when the revelation of who his father was, tore him up to literal pieces.

He was always in your head. Whether it be daydream, hearing someone talk about him, or actually dreaming about him at night.

Only in your mind can you pretend that you’re his girlfriend. That he likes you.

That you’re his first and only choice.

That you’re the only one he wants.

That he’s just as in love with you as you are with him.

He had taken over all your thoughts possible and it never got any easier.

You thought you’d get over it after sophomore year but it only grew as he ended up being your only friend throughout high school.

Nothing was more heartbreaking than having to hear him talk about all the girls he would go out with, or fuck.

The worst was when you’d actually go to parties with him. You’d end up almost throwing up or crying in the bathroom after seeing yet another new girl grinding herself against him or a girl making out with him.

It never ended up being less heartbreaking. You had luckily made a few friends who tried their best to help.

Peter B and MJ.

Somehow you befriended them your first year of uni and all four of you became a little group. They were your occasional saviors when you’d find yourself sulking over Miguel being with another girl.

They’d always try to distract you and cheer you up.

Or if they were the ones to spot Miguel fooling around they’d turn you to the opposite direction to avoid your heart from crumbling again.

You felt as if you were being entrapped.

It was almost as if Miguel subconsciously knew what he was doing.

Because when he grew bored of a girl all of a sudden his attention would be fully on you.

Buying you food, getting you cute little plants, helping you study.

It was an endless cycle of pain and heartbreak then yearning and being enamored by him.

Right now was pure heartbreak and misery.

You had been crying for hours on end now and just let your sad playlist loop.

All you were wishing for now is that one day you’d stop falling in love with him.

That somehow your feelings for him would wash away and you’ll never have to deal with this heartbreak ever again.

But it’s been long now. These feelings weren’t going to disappear.

And he wasn’t going to magically fall in love with you.

Especially because he’s always been the one to let anyone and everyone know that you were only his best friend. And nothing more.

But the way he’d wrap his arms around you, leave kisses on your forehead and cheeks just boggled your head.

The way he would just stare at you when you were rambling about the newest science news you’d heard about.

The way he would hug you tightly at the most random times imaginable.

The way he’d willingly put his jacket on you if it were too chilly outside.

The way he would get so overprotective when a guy asks you out.

So you were always questioning what he really thought of you.

He never made it easy to decipher any of his feelings unless he was telling you up front, which he almost never did.

As more hot tears fell down your face, you could only pray that someone will like you like you like him.

It felt like such an impossible ask.

You loved him so much and you could practically feel pieces of your heart breaking. Why couldn’t he just reciprocate your love?

Why did you have to torture yourself like this?

Why is the only time you’re truly happy (besides when you’re with him) is when you’re dreaming about actually being with him?

Why is it so hard for him to romantically love you?

Why does it always have to be platonic?

Maybe one day you’ll be able to get over him and these feelings won’t be as strong.

Maybe one day you’ll find someone that’ll know how to take care of your heart and return your love.

Maybe one day it’ll be him.

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara x you #Miguel ohara angst #miguel o’hara fic #spider man 2099 #Spotify

[sickuma]

Hello, this maybe kinda out of the fiction you always write. But can i ask for some doctor x reader fanfiction? Make it angst please, i will pay for my therapy bills!! 😁😁😁

PATIENT AT ROOM 224 — a Miguel O'hara fiction.

❱ The first actual request ill cover! I have a few lined up but I wanted to do this one first since I got the idea^^ tysm for the request <3 I hope this is to your liking (●'◡'●) Also if some things don't make sense, I barely know things about hospitals pardon me, I'm 15 and have yet to learn more about such gaahhh this one is pretty long!

ꜝ？ Warning. . angst! mentions of chronic illness, death, and such. ﹟paring | doctor Miguel x patient reader

➴ SYNOPSIS — You suffer from an illness without a cure, and your doctor Miguel tries hard to fasten the pace of formulating that cure. Time is not in your favor, you have one wish and it's to see the ocean for the last time. Along with your goodbyes, he revealed a confession.

NEPENTHE — (n.) An ancient Greek word, nepenthe is defined as a medicine for sorrow. It is a place, person, or thing, which can aid in forgetting your pain and suffering.

It’s been four years,

Four years since the hospital became your home, four years since this became your reality. Exactly four years since you’ve been a prisoner of your own health, in constant risk of losing your life. It took a while to accept, but four years have passed, and you knew there was nothing else you can do but sit and wait for the inevitable.

A part of you never let go of that speck of hope,

Maybe you still have a chance, maybe you can still live. You want to live. Despite being quiet and accepting of your situation, the fear was undeniably there, and it grows every day. You don't want to die, you’re scared, it’s frightening. 

It seems you’re not the only one feeling that way,

In front of you stood your doctor, Miguel. He’s been in charge of you for years now, he’s been there since the very beginning. It’s starting to feel like he’s the only person you have ever since your family seldom visited. He had a nonchalant disposition, a permanent scowl on his face, and yet he feels homely.

“vitals are stable,” he spoke flatly, scribbling something on his paper. He had the glasses he wears on certain occasions, looking serious as always.

On most days he’s kept to himself, and on some rare occasions, he would speak to you. Things that aren't needed for your health, basic conversations that brought your head out of your wilting life. You appreciated that, knowing he isn't the type to converse or talk about personal topics. You always notice how his eyes look when he’d lay them on you,

Sorrowful? You’re unsure. But there’s definitely a hint of sadness in them, the type of look someone gives when they need to get something off their chest as if he needed to say something urgent. He never does. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, placing his clipboard down the table. Looking at you expectantly, his tone was gentler, softer, something his colleagues would find unusual. You smile at him like you always do, which he always found pleasant. “Just like the usual.” “No aches? How about your difficulty with breathing?”

“None.” you lie, You know it’s stupid to be lying to your own doctor but the last time you told him about it, he looked destroyed. You find out he didn't sleep a wink that week, checking the lab and giving them consistent assistance in finding the cure. Breathing isn't that hard—you've grown used to it. You didn't want to cause him that state ever again. You're aware of your condition, and you can almost predict what the future will be, there was no need to stress him out more than he already is.

He looked at you, searching for any signs of lies only for you to chuckle at him. Stifling a laugh which actually made it difficult to breathe, but that didn't matter. “I’m feeling great.”

He sighed, taking his glasses off to massage his temple. “Are you okay?” you ask, tilting your head slightly. “Just worried.” you smile at his response, it’s nice to know someone cares enough to worry for you. But surely he’s only doing it for the sake of his job, it’s his duty to worry for you, still it felt nice.

“Do you think I’ll ever see the ocean again? I want to visit the beach, is there a chance?” you drift the subject subtly. It was your turn to look at him expectantly, for a brief moment he had a look of guilt, you know well why. “If I can, I want to see the ocean again.” 

“Soon,” he mumbles, turning away from you to open a drawer. “You just—I’ll take you there. When things get a little loose, I’ll take you to see the ocean.”

“You will?”

He was shaken, stumped but he can't let you see that. Gathering what’s left of his solace, solace which you've been providing for the last few years.  "We'll see the ocean."

"That's a promise."

The reason why he’s so gentle with you, why he sugarcoats the rough truth as much as he can, why he promises you such things, he doesn’t know why. With you he feels a sense of solace, was it when you speak? The sound of your voice? that mellow look in your eyes? What is it? Countless sleepless nights were earned simply because he tries to find the answer, no matter how much he distances himself to do his job properly and realistically,

You would always be sitting up on that bed, glancing up at him with your tired expectant eyes accompanied by the gentlest smile he has ever come across with. Before he knows it, he’s promising you a cure that probably won't be formulated until a few years. Until you’re not able to wake anymore.

“Rest up, I’ll do another test tomorrow.” “Do you really promise?” you pry, looking up at him with a smile. A genuine one.

“Yeah, I promise.”

﹐

“The patient at room 224, [name] right?” another doctor spoke from behind him, stopping him dead in his tracks, hearing your name. “Their vitals. It wasn't stable.” “You’re lying to them, Miguel.”

Miguel breathes in, turning to look at the owner of the voice. His gentle complexion faded away, replaced by his common scowl. “How long will you foolishly wait for this cure?”

"It takes years, Miguel. Centuries even, to formulate a cure, you of all people know that." the man spoke with worry, Miguel knew he was only concerned and yet he felt almost enraged.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion."

"This isn't about opinions. That person, they're suffering. God, we need to let them rest, we have the family's wish." argued the man, he now had a frown on his face clearly unsure of Miguel’s intentions. “You’re letting their weak heart grasp on a false hope.”

"What about their wish?" he was angry, and he expressed it freely. “The family’s wish? The same family who barely visited them?”

He breathes in his frustration, he can't afford to lose his cool. Especially now that you're in a terrible state.

His colleague was silenced. Looking at him with hesitance.

"Why are you insisting so much? You're a doctor, they're your patient. You have a duty."

"That duty is to protect and keep them alive," Miguel interjects, he’s had enough of this argument, he hated it. He hated how right his colleague was, and yet he choose to be stubborn. "They want to live."

"And I'll make sure of that."

"You have never been this determined for a patient, especially when you know full well what the outcome will be." he waved his hand upwards, stressed at Miguel’s foolish antics "It's inevitable. It's a chronic illness for God's sake."

For the first time, he's stumped, he doesn't have the answer. All he knows is that he wants to keep you alive, he needs to keep you alive,

For your sake or his?

He stares at you, lying on the bed just as you've been for half of the year. Exhaustion is evident even with your sleeping form, Your life was faltering, you know it, He knows it. And yet for some reason, it's a fact he can't accept. For years of his profession, not once has he cared this much for a person.

It was more than that. 

For years of working in this hospital, not once has he been fazed over a patient's condition. No matter how heartless that sounded, he never cared to this extent.

Yet the idea of putting you down hunts him. The idea of putting you down as if you're some sort of animal without control over your own life, without a say in your own life. It taunts him,

To the point he struggles to sleep, often staying up to check up on the cure's status. Staying up worrying about the passing time,

"If I can, I want to see the ocean again."

His eyes squint in conflict, memories of your sorrowful wish passing through his mind. If he could show you the ocean, he would. If he could show you the world you missed out on, he would. You deserved it, more than anyone, you deserved everything he can give. 

He felt enraged, not because of the workload he has to push through. But for not knowing why it hurts him so much to witness you wilt, he feels confused and conflicted. The growing ache in his heart adding up to his stress,

“I'll talk to them tomorrow Miguel.” his colleague decided sternly, “ill tell them the truth and they will decide. You can watch but you can’t oppose.”

He walks away, leaving Miguel before he could even respond or disagree. Frustration surges through him though it can't compare to how helpless he felt. This was his only way of helping you, even that can get taken away, it feels like a stab in the throat. Slamming his office door shut, he sat on the chair, palming his face. “fuck.”

﹐

“What's happening here?”

Miguel spoke with a perplexed look, there were about 4 people inside your room. Papers in their hands. While you laid on the bed, signing the papers obediently, looking even weaker than the day before. “Miguel!”

You greet him with that stupid smile you always have, why were you smiling? Miguel could feel his nerves rise, seeing all the people and how they looked at him with fright.

“[name] what’s this?” he looks at you, pushing through the people to draw near you.

“They're fixing the documents for the euthanasia.”

He didn't open his mouth to speak for a few minutes, gathering enough strength and making sure he heard you correctly. “Get the hell out.”

He didn't need to repeat it, a man took the signed papers from you and everyone left the room shortly. Leaving you with an angry man who used to be the gentle Miguel who visited you daily to promise you a better life. “Why?”

He asks. He knew he was acting out of line as your doctor. But at this moment he wasn't your doctor, he was Miguel. The man who soothes your sleepless nights, the man who sticks with you even off duty, the only man who cared enough. He didn't say anything else, he simply looked at you with disappointment and sadness,

“They told me the pain only gets worse from here,” you humor a laugh. “If there's a worse pain than what i have right now, I don't think—I can only imagine what that would be like.”

“You didn't wanna die.” he interrupts, a frown evidently shown on his face. “You told me, you're scared.”

He looked almost devastated, well he is. It was obvious just from the look of his eyes, he wanted you to answer, and he wanted you to answer truthfully.

You breathe in, the smile falling soon enough. “I know, I am, I really am scared.”

“But I've been—it’s been like this for four years, how long will I trap myself in this situation? How long will I keep making myself suffer? Im just… tired. I want to live, I really do but if living means staying inside the hospital walls and consisting of lab tests, excruciating pains, and breathing difficulty, then I don't think that’s living at all.” 

He looks away, dawning on him just how selfish he sounded. Asking you why, barging in hoping to convince you otherwise. It was selfish of him. All this time he was focused on what he wanted and needed, constantly going to extents just to save you for his sake, 

He nods, “I'm sorry I just—” he paused looking back at your eyes. I really wanted you to stay he wanted to say it out loud, but he felt it was not necessary. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow.”

His eyes widened briefly, looking at her with disbelief once again. “So soon?” his voice was weak, a fleeting look of desperation in his eyes. 

“I asked for that.” you looked away fiddling with the blankets. That’s when he noticed you weren't sitting up like you usually were, if his predictions were correct it was because your body was too weak to manage sitting up. It was once again this illness, slowly eating away your life against your will, 

He felt his heart sink deeper, feeling more affected than he ever was. He wanted to shout, he wanted to convince you to retract your signage, anything to make you stay, but that wasn't his decision to make.

It was yours, it was your right.

He won't defy you as everyone else did. If it’s truly what you wish then he would support you, no matter how heavy it feels to the heart, he’ll wholeheartedly support you like he always has. 

“Then…”

He pauses, causing you to look back at him weakly waiting for him to continue.

“I promised to take you to see the ocean right.” 

It was his turn to look away, suppressing the tears that threatened to fall. Its been decades since he last cried, yet he finds himself weak for you, refusing to let the tears fall. Not wanting you to see just how affected he was, he didn't want you to worry knowing you will. 

“Let's go see the ocean, okay? Before you go,” he had to pause every few seconds, afraid another word will cause him to break down. "Like I promised."

“Let’s go see the ocean together.”

﹐

It was almost dawn, he never left your room ever since that conversation. He stayed all day and during the night, watched you fall to sleep, rubbing the back of your hand as you doze off. He felt his heart break with every passing hour, 

Knowing that it’ll come eventually. The time he’ll have to let you go.

He watched as your calm expression fall to slumber, it was the first time he’s ever seen you so serene. You would always have this tired expression as if everything in the world pained you, for some reason he knew some parts of that was true. This life truly failed you, you deserved better.

Yet you smiled and accepted your fate. He could remember just how happy you looked when he broke the news about the ocean,

At that moment, he witnessed genuine happiness from you. It was the first time he saw your full smile, it wasn't a half smile, not a small one, it was real. And he loved it, he wanted to look at it forever, to admire it as much as he can. Perhaps that's what made this so bittersweet,

Despite his desire for you to stay, he prioritized what you wanted, what you needed.

As long as you’re happy, he's at peace.

“[name], it’s time to go,” he whispers, gently waking you up. Stuffing his keys deep into his pocket, “Let’s go see the ocean, amor.”

He didn't care about what he was saying nor what he just called you, he was just focused on fulfilling your wish. He needed to hurry before the sunrise, he wanted to watch it with you. If this would be the last sight you see before you go, he wanted it to be the most beautiful youve ever seen.

Your eyes fluttered open, greeted by Miguel picking your limp body up in his arms to carry you toward his car. He was gentle, careful not to hurt or cause you discomfort, it made your heart leap with joy and ache at the same time, 

“We’re going to see the ocean now?” you ask excitedly, a bit of rasp to your voice from the sleep. His face scrunched up, biting his lip to suppress his emotion.

“Yes,” he responds, attempting to sound just as thrilled as you are. “Yes, we are.”

The drive wasn't long, nor was it eventful. It was mostly silent, with a few remarks from you ranting about how much you loved the beach as a child and how excited you are to see it along with the sunrise. He was fulfilling two wishes of yours, you couldn't be more grateful.

On the other hand, he drove silently. Responding to your stories ever so often, occupied with his sinking heart. He was happy, truly, seeing you look so lively,

It was the most life he’s ever seen from you in your four years of seeing each other in the hospital walls. It hurts him a tad bit, how easily pleased you are, how failed you are by everything in your life.

He had to gather himself, he needs to be happy for your sake. Seeing you peer through the window with a smile, it was like your eyes were shining with excitement, it caused a bittersweet smile to his lips. “We’re here.”

The two of you were just in time, a few minutes before dawn passes with the sunrise on its way. He carefully picked you up from the car, seeing your smile from the corner of his eyes, it was the brightest, at least the brightest smile he's ever seen from you. And you smiled a lot all throughout that four years.

He felt the sand sinking his shoes as he walked with you in his arms, walking until he reached a spot he deemed perfect. “I can stand,” you eagerly spoke, looking at him expectantly.

He would've refused if this was just a normal day, but this was your last day. He wouldn't reprimand you any joy you want. With support, he drops you carefully, holding your waist and your hand on the other. Your legs trembled, they hurt but you ignored it, too busy looking ahead to even feel the excruciating pain all throughout your body. He made sure to hold and support you properly,

“It’s pretty,” you mumble, mesmerized by how the sun slowly made its way to exposure.

You looked ahead, while he looked at you. “It is.”

He knew it wouldn't be long until the tears form, so he savored the moment to admire your face before his eyes blur out with tears. “Should we sit?”

You nod, looking at him briefly before you return your gaze to the front. Taking in the breeze and the scenery, it was painful yet beautiful. You wouldn't ask for more,

“Thank you, Miguel.”

He was silent, letting you speak. “I never thought I could be this happy, but I’m really really happy. My heart could jump!” chuckling at your own words, you turned to him. Tears were evident from your eyes, he disliked it, it made his tears threaten to fall as well. “I really really am happy. Truly.”

“No,” he spoke, looking ahead this time. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for everything.”

You looked at him in confusion, letting out a short laugh. “But for four years i was just at that very bed. What did I do for you worth gratifying for?”

“Existing.” he says calmly, “thank you for existing.”

It was your turn to be quiet, looking at him and observing his expression carefully. It was the first time he outwardly showed emotions, tears brimming in his eyes. They made yours fall even more. “Thank you for existing and waking my heart.”

“Waking… your heart?”

“Yes,” he responds, with a smile. The very first time you saw his smile, it was a sight truly. A beautiful one, almost on par with the ocean and the sunrise. “Thank you for making me love again.”

His words were unexpected but you kept quiet, taking in his confession. He was pouring his heart out, calmly and painfully. It was almost confusing, yet it was beautiful.

“I loved you the moment you smiled at me. The moment you looked at me in a way only you will—I know it’s odd, I know it’s unusual but I haven't stopped loving you since.” he looked back at you, holding you in his arms as you both sat on the sand.

He had a look of hurt, but a look of acceptance mixed in with a thousand emotions he had on display “When I look at you, I don't want to look at anything else but you.”

“I want to care for you, I wanted to protect you—I wanted to save you.” he was letting himself cry. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to be vulnerable “I won't ask you to return that love. Because it's yours and yours only.”

“Miguel.” you barely whispered, ignoring the pain that gnawed on your body. 

“I'll keep loving you,” “I'll love you today, ill love you tomorrow, I'll love you forever.”

You both were a crying mess and for some reason, it felt right. The serene breeze of the ocean, the light of the sunrise. It was a perfect moment, the pain was indescribable but none of you would have wanted anything else at this moment. You didn't speak, only looked at him as he does to you. Even without words he knew, the way you stared at him with tears-stained eyes, he knew you understood, he knew you heard him.

He stifles a short laugh, “It's a bit unfortunate for me but if I were to fall in love once more, I’ll choose you over and over again.”

You laid your head on his chest, letting him hold you in your last moments. Closing your eyes, pushing out the tears which didn't seem to stop,

“Until I'm nothing but a fading memory to this world, ill keep loving you even then.”

“If I was given a chance to live, I would have wanted to spend it with you like this as well.” you smile at his chest, intertwining your fingers with his. Feeling yourself falter and falter every passing moment, “There wasn't a moment where your love wasn't reciprocated, Miguel.”

He held you, tightly but gently. Tight enough to not let you go, gently enough to allow you to feel his love. Your words strike his heart in every right way, in every painful way.

“Thank you for unknowingly saving me.”

As the sun rise, the silence of the place allowed him to grieve, giving him space to accept what has passed. He stared ahead, caressing your hair gently, as you depart in his arms. Where you belonged, where you wanted to be.

It was a wonder why the skilled doctor always had a scowl on his face, who knew the patient at room 224 was all it takes to wake his sleeping heart.

this was a fun to write (●'◡'●) bandaids for everyone?

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

this is unedited!!!

#miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv fic #atsv spoilers #atsv miguel #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara atsv #miguel ohara angst #miguel o'hara angst #miguel x reader angst #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader angst #spiderverse 2 #miguel o'hara #atsv angst

[16bruises]

Parasocial

word count: 1.5k

purple is other miguel

important information for writers who use google docs

Our eyes met through a screen long before we did.

“Even an obvious fabrication is some comfort when you have few”

-Margaret Atwood

The everyday misery makes it so my nights and days blend too easily for me to keep any form of a normal or healthy life. I don’t want one without them anyway.

Them.

That beautiful family.

All I’ve ever wanted.

I could’ve had them… but it wasn't meant for me. Not the version of me that I have the misfortune of being. The version I am is only allowed to long for something I can’t have and suffer. But ever since I found them… I’ve suffered less and longed more.

I imagined them with me. I could’ve been so good at having a family if I was only given time. I won’t ever admit it, it would be bad for the morale of the spider society– but I hate being a spider person. I hate that it’s taken so much. I hate that I can watch a version of me through a screen have what I long for. I hate it.

I have so much love for them. The other Miguel’s family. Sometimes I feel so sure that I love them more than that.. alternate version of me that has them. But other times I feel like any version of me would love them more than anything.

But that can’t be true– I’ve suffered for so long alone. I’m the Miguel that suffers and loves them more than any other Miguel could.

The first moment I saw this version of me, he had everything already. He was happily married to her, (y/n). The way she looked at that Miguel made me so sure that she’d love me. She would love me even though I’m not her Miguel. I could be, I’d happily be her’s.

She was pregnant with their baby the first time I saw her.

That Miguel wanted the baby to be a girl. I would’ve told her that I just want the baby to be healthy and for the delivery to go smoothly. I would’ve made sure she knew I could care less about the sex of our baby and that I would love our baby no matter what.

I will admit, I was hoping for a baby girl. But, If the baby had been a boy I wouldn’t have cared. The baby was perfect because it was hers and looked like it could’ve been mine.

That version of me was late getting to the hospital and almost missed the birth. I wouldn’t have been late. I wouldn’t be away from her that close to the baby’s due date.

I cried tears of pure joy when Gabriella was born. I loved her the moment I saw her. She was such a tiny baby, such a beautiful baby.

Since the moment she was born, the longing got worse. It was harder to focus on my duties as Spiderman and as head of the Spider Society. But, I didn’t care. I loved her and Gabriella too much to care.

—-

Everything in that Miguel’s life was so perfect. I found myself resenting myself for not being that version of me.

I hated him. I started watching him, trying to find out what it is about him that made it so he wasn’t destined to suffer while I was. Why did he get to have such a beautiful life and I didn’t?

And I found the reason.

That Miguel was destined to die. That Miguel was destined to die and leave that beautiful family behind.

That Miguel wasn’t destined to suffer because he was destined to bring suffering and longing to them.

I couldn’t let them suffer as I have. I couldn’t let it happen. I had to save her and Gabriella from the painful feeling of mourning.

I didn’t hesitate to step out of my universe and into theirs.

I looked down at that universe’s Miguel, it felt strange. The feeling must be what it’s like to be a Peter Parker, constantly seeing yourself but… not quite.

I dragged that Miguel deeper into the alleyway, away from sight. Then walked home.

She was more than I dreamed of. She kissed me the moment I walked through the door. She was real. She was everything.

The baby. My baby– Gabriella. She wasn’t a newborn anymore, 5 months old now. But, still so tiny. She giggled when I held her.

I knew they could love me. I hadn’t noticed before, how heavy the suffering and longing felt until then. The heavy feelings were suddenly gone.

I held her closer than the other me had. I hugged her more.

I held Gabriella longer and gently rocked her cradle longer after putting her to bed.

Because I loved them more.

—-

My destiny was to suffer. Leaving the universe that demanded such of my life wouldn’t change that. I should’ve known.

Maybe I was too lovestruck by her. She was mine now, my (y/n).

Maybe I was too proud that Gabriella had slept through a full night.

Maybe I was just not thinking because I’d been too excited to be with them to notice the weak rise and fall of this universe’s Miguel’s chest when I arrived.

I should’ve made sure he was dead. It would’ve been easy.

But no, I had been sloppy and too eager to go to them.

I realized he wasn’t dead when I had gone back to my home universe, telling (y/n) that I had to spend a late night at work. I had to check on the spider society and make sure my home universe wasn’t falling apart. Everything seemed fine, a few minor things had happened in my absence but nothing I couldn’t fix.

I went to check on them and saw him. He was alive. He was in a hospital. He wanted to go home, to see his fiance, his baby girl. And he would be doing just that.

I panicked. I rushed back to them.

I was so sure that the next time I was gone, he would come back.

(y/n) would be so confused. I can’t let him come back. He’d explain where he’d been but (y/n) wouldn’t understand because I had been there.

—-

When I was attacked it felt like the end. I thought it was over. I thought about (y/n), our baby, our life together. We wanted to do so much. We were going to get married soon.

Then it felt quiet. Then loud, very very loud.

I could hardly open my eyes enough to make out my surroundings.

The image of (y/n) with baby Gabi, the first time we brought Gabi home, flashed through my mind.

I forced my eyes open.

I strained my arms to lift myself off the concrete.

I strained my voice calling for help.

I pushed and strained until any sign of help appeared.

Once it did, I let myself stop straining.

–

The next thing I can remember is opening my eyes, no force necessary this time.

The fluorescents looked so bright, and so did the pale walls. The sterile smell and people dressed in scrubs confirmed my suspicion that I was safe. I was safe, I felt better, and I knew where I was.

The hospital staff wanted me to stay for another week after I woke up but I just wanted to go home. I need to make sure (y/n) and Gabi are alright. I need to go home.

After much debate, the hospital agreed to discharge me as long as I agreed to come back within the next two days for a checkup.

And with that– I was on my way home.

–

It’s not something you’re ever prepared for. I think maybe only identical twins who were separated at birth could understand… the confused terror.

Whatever this thing was… it was expecting me. It was waiting for me.

What had it done to (y/n)?

Or our baby?

Were they ok? Were they even alive? Had this ?thing done something to them?

It was standing in front of the door. Watching me. Neither of us spoke.

It looked just like me. I’ve heard of body snatchers before but I never thought they could be real.

This can’t be real. I was sure I was hallucinating, some negative side effects of the medication I’d been given at the hospital.

It was real though.

It slammed me against the floor when I reached for the doorknob.

It wanted me dead, and with how aggressive and violent it was I knew it would get what it wanted.

—-

I loved them more.

I would do anything to keep them.

Nothing would take me away.

NOTHING.

I killed him. I had to.

After I did it I took a shower. Cleaned the last bits of him off of me.

I hid him better this time.

He was dead, in another universe. Far far away from here.

That night I held Gabriella longer than I had before.

I kissed (y/n) longer, I made love to (y/n), held her until she fell asleep.

I loved them more than any Miguel could.

Part 2

Part 3

#miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 angst #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara angst #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel o’hara atsv #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara angst #astv fic #astv fanfic #astv angst #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #yandere miguel x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #yandere miguel o’hara x reader

[futureplayboibunnie]

Let Them Bleed For All I Care (pt.2)

Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

being fuckbuddies with Miguel O’Hara wasn’t easy when you were both intensely yearning

okay i bust my ass for this second part cause i just luv angsty smut with miguel sm. ooooh this was so juicy to write.

warnings: smut 18+ (MDNI this is obscenely filthy), angsty as hell, teading and brattiness, avoidance and attatchement with this brooding ass man, sensual aftercare confessions (tehehee)

It's been a few weeks since that certainly enlightening morning. Neither of you talked about it after. In fact, you both avoided each other even more if that was even possible.

After your confession to Miguel, you couldn't handle the weight of it being out in the open. It was so dense and cruel- it was embarrassing and you didn't want to constantly be feeling this way about him. So...vulnerable, it was just something you couldn't afford at this point, you've more than paid your dues and you were done being run dry. Feeling this way about someone like Miguel was dangerous as it was careless- he was also your fucking boss but you wanted him, fucking hell, you needed him and it's just ugly from all sides.

He said 'let them bleed for all I care’ but the problem was...you did. You can't handle compromising such a thing. He probably understands but he also probably resented you for it and neither of you was willing to talk about how devastatingly desperate you were for each other. Fuck, you missed him, you wanted him so bad you were sure it wasn't healthy. You caught glances of him looming around in the shadows at HQ, looking vacantly provoked and displeased. He wouldn't talk about it, and the rest of the spiders had to bare the brunt of it all, no one was surprised at this shift in attitude- it was just Miguel O'Hara being duplicitous like he criticized you for being. Fucking hypocrite. HQ was practically empty and everyone had gone home to their respective dimensions but just like that everything just became ten times worse when he practically grabbed you by the wrist and slung you into his office, you wanted to have a temper tantrum in his arms and you attempted to struggle away from his hold but he gripped onto you harder. Miguel left you stumbling as he let you go so he could swing up on his high-rise platform, looking at the screens and sighing heavily.

“Miguel-“ You started when you picked yourself up and pocketed your mask, your face vacant and slightly irked as you stared up at his broad back. He fiddled around with his screens, pulling up a grab of you on an earlier mission today and you were already dreading his inevitable response to your catastrophic fuckup...or the fact that you had both been avoiding each other? You'd prefer the former over the latter. “If this is about what we said I don't have time for it.”

“No. It's not. You fucked up the mission pretty badly...you ran instead of fought.” Miguel bit at you venomously, trying his hardest not to get pissed at you. Anyone else would've gotten a verbal tongue-lashing from him but you, he tried to reign in his temper.

“So now what, you're scolding me for doing what I thought was right?”

“You have an irritating tendency to run away.” He wasn't sure if he was referencing the mission or you telling him you loved him and decided to leave right after. This was what Miguel was afraid of: being left, being betrayed when he finally let someone in and now he was reaping the consequences of trusting. He trusted you and you left him, now he was particularly furious and bitter towards everyone.

“I don't think this is about the fucking mission at all, Miguel. I don't want to fucking hear it, I'm leaving.”You waved your hand as if to dismiss the situation and hell would freeze over before he let you leave right now. Miguel frowned and instinctively webbed your waist and dragged you on the platform.

“Let go! Let me the fuck go Miguel-“Your protests fell on deaf ears, he was like a man on a mission to just get you close to him, anyhow, anyway he could. He placed you in front of him, his hands falling to your shoulders.

“You're so fucking unreadable.” He gritted through clenched teeth, his jaw grinding in the process and you could practically hear the bones crunch against each other as his eyes burned into yours. “I've been going fucking crazy because I don't know what you're thinking, what you want.”

“Miguel, I swear to God, if you keep talking-“ you tried to warn him and struggle against him but his hands were planted firmly on your body, the hairs on your neck stood to attention almost immediately and you hated how pathetic that made you feel

“Was anything you said true? Or do you just pity me? Is that why you said it?” Miguel tensed his eyebrows, his voice low and deep as he implored you to make him see reason, the eye contact between you never wavered once as if you were both challenging each other.

“What No!”

“Then enlighten me on why I haven't been seeing you.” He grunted, his tone filled with undignified fury.

“Because if I crawl into bed with you, if I let myself get involved with you further than we already are...we'll both do something that we can't undo.” You attempted to reason with him but you knew once he set his mind to something he won't change it.

“I don't care.”

“Well, I do. Don't act all flippant and self-absorbed. You created all of this for a reason.”

“So you tell me you love me and then you run away from me.” His voice faltered a little and you felt your heart wilt and dampen with sadness at such a thing.

“You should get it, Miguel. Loving you makes me sad and fucking insane. It makes me weak and unfocused, is that what you want?” You were pissed and it was searing your skin, hot to the touch. You were tired of fighting him but you weren't backing down, you could understand how your actions and words could be confusing or misinterpreted- your brain was fighting your heart and your body was fust in a state of hyperactivity as you were practically begging for him to touch you again. Miguel's gaze softened at your aggravated confession, he was taken aback. He didn't know what else to say, his mouth unhinged open as if he was going to say something. Instead, you just grabbed onto him before you had another chance to think, your face instinctively buried in his neck and inhaled deeply, your nimble fingers unable to resist raking through his hair. His steely resolve faltered at the slightest touch. “I miss you...” You breathed in his ear, planting a kiss on his earlobe. Miguel was even more confused now but then you let him go to stare into his eyes “….But I can't have you. You cradled his face with your hands and he looked like he had just seen a ghost, those words setting deeply into his chest.

“Stop playing a martyr for something that hasn't even happened yet.” You attempted to swing away but he just grabbed onto your waist and rooted you back to the ground, his other hand gripping on both of your wrists and dragging you closer to his chest.

"Oh like you do. You're a fucking hypocrite, this happened before and you lost everything.” You yelled through clenched teeth, eyes glued to his, your reply providing him with a tenacious red glow to his eyes alongside the blue vein popping out of his neck. he was furious about you reminding him of it, he knew it perfectly he fucked everything up.

Miguel pulled your wrists closer to him and smashed his lips against yours. He grunted with a certain passion he had never given you- as much as you wanted to and tried to struggle and squirm away, you couldn't, you missed the taste of his lips so brutally. Miguel released your wrists and gripped your cheeks, forcefully slipping his tongue into your gaping wet mouth as you panted into his. You were drooling for him already. Too consumed by how aggressively you've missed his harsh touch. Miguel's particularly apathetic hands flew to the back of your neck, taking complete and utter control of you as if to prove a point you were too hot and wet to care about.

“I don't give a damn about any of it. Let them fucking break. I don't care.” He pulled away to whisper hoarsely in your ear, his temper besting him once again. He wasn't sure if he believed any of the words he said himself but when he was with you...all he wanted was to have you.

“'I don't believe you.” You whined at him your eyes gleaming with sadness and arousal at the same time. Miguel pulled your hair and tugged it, you yelped helplessly and he enjoyed hearing such a pretty sound. Oh, he'll fucking show you.

Miguel tisked at you, his fangs vibrating against his gums and his teeth threatening to shatter before he fiddled with his watch and entered the bedroom of your universe. It was all over in a flash and the look on your face was that of pure unbridled surprise even though this perfectly aligned with Miguel's impulsive and arrogant nature- the man still fucking surprised you, damn. He threw you to the floor and sat himself on the edge of the bed, gasp fell from your lips as you reluctantly hung your head up to stare into those ferocious and unending eyes.

“Sit and stay.” He gritted.

“I'm not a dog.” You warned him but he wasn't listening.

“I know we're having a lover's spat right now but I've been hard ever since I fucking touched you. Do something about it.l he demanded ever so pompously, his ego bursting out of him as you pretended you weren't enjoying this but your thighs were trembling as you kneeled in front of him.

“Wow, I'm a stickler for honesty.” You rolled your eyes at him and his condescension. Miguel gripped your cheeks, his talons slightly peaking out and napping the skin of your face. Your eyes darted down to see that his hologram suit was no more...well, he definitely wasn't lying. It had been a few weeks but you did miss this part of him, the angry and volatile part. It made for the best kind of sex.

“Stop sulking and do as you're told.” His voice was severe and rough, and his demands during sex were always serious but he had never been this pissed before. You were on his leash, unhappily hanging onto the filthy shit his mouth had to offer. You hated that he made you weak for him. Your eyes widened as you glared at his thick and veiny cock, the tip leaking as it stood directly in front of your face. Your mouth dropped open in an attempt to search for words long gone by now but your face scrunched up into a fiendish scowl.

“What if I bite it off? Would that appease your insatiable appetite?” You challenged through flirtatious and defying eyes. Miguel's fingers hooked under your chin as if he was cooing at you wickedly.

“Don't be a bitch.” You leaned in and kissed the tip of his twitching cock, your teasing eyes were transfixed on his and he could've cum right then and there. “Come on, no teasing...Por favor...I mean-please.” He breathed and the way he was finally polite about it made you want to laugh. You licked the underside of him before your lips swallowed him whole. The small broken gasp Miguel let out pricked at your ears when your mouth was stuffed full of him. He tasted so damn good and your tongue relished in the musk. His cock was magnificent, you hummed around him and his body jolted, Miguel's head hung back as he rested on the back of his hand. His palm went to your hair and pulled you on and off him

“Choke on me. I dare you.” He grunted as a bead of sweat swerved to his brow. You actually did as you were told for once, you took him so far down your throat to the point Miguel genuinely shuddered, he swore he could've cum on your pretty face just by the fact.

He was slightly worried you wouldn't be able to breathe, being the kind and selfless saint he dragged you by the hair and pulled you off and took a moment to appreciate you blinking up dumbly at him. Your mouth was wide open, lips parted and painted a pretty bloodshot red as if you had been chewing on them, drool fell down your chin and escaped the corners of your lips. You looked like wet dream and he wanted to plow you- he had been itching for you since you left him. You clambered onto his lap and kissed him hard, tongues sliding against each other as he sloppily bit at your lips. You ground into his aching hard cock and his talons ripped the remnants of your suit clean off, your naked body providing a feast for him to devour. Miguel kissed up and down your neck as his taloned palm rested on the skin at the back of it, tugging your head back for easy access to your skin

“I hate you.” You whispered knowing that you felt the complete opposite.

“I believe you.”

“I hate you for how I feel about you.” Your hands tangled in his hair and scratched at his scalp,

“I said I believe you.” He gripped your chin unkindly as he grazed his sharp fangs against your jaw and pushed you flat onto the bed before you could comment anything glib.

Miguel loomed over your body, the cascade of your hair flowing out onto your pillows only proved how fucking angelic you were. You were a drug that needed to be constantly pumped into his veins, without it he was empty. He pinched your nipples and twisted them, playing with your tits just to wind you up. You moaned as his tongue licked down your collarbone, between your tits down to your stomach. Miguel loved that you were always so responsive, he loved how your body arched off of the bed and into his touch. Your legs hooked up onto his perfect broad shoulders and the look that was shared between you was sharp and piercing. He moved his face down to your lower stomach and shifted slightly so that he was face-to-face with your glistening pussy. He suppressed a quiet groan at the sight of you bare and vulnerable underneath him, writhing and squirming as you gripped the bedsheets, threatening to tear the fabric apart.

"You've been cruel to me these past few weeks Hermosa.” He growled at the memory of you actively avoiding him. “You said you loved me and then you ran away...this is also what you ran from.” Miguel slipped two fingers into your sopping hole. “Me. Making you feel like this.”

He curled his fingers up to massage that spot inside of you that made your body jerk around. “I feel you clenchingaround me...already?” He smirked at your body giving you away, your head buried back into the pillow as your eyes screwed shut, the pleasure of his nimble fingers overwhelming you.

“Please…”

“You want me to eat you out? An eye for an eye?' He was dragging it out and all you could do was moan at nothing. To stop your incessant panting, he retracted his fingers that were inside of you and shoved them into your mouth to lick them clean. “Yeah, I’ll do just that.” You let go with a pop at the prospect of tasting yourself, you tasted...good.

“Then do it.” Whining and groaning didn't seem to do anything to avert him from instantly indulging in your desires. Miguel stroked your thighs and spread them wider as they rested on his shoulders. His tongue swiped onto your aching slit, the wetness collecting on his tongue as he finally got what he was silently begging from you for weeks. He swiped his mouth on your sticky folds and felt your body shake as he continued his wicked machinations and ministrations.

“I've been dying to taste you agaib. You've held out on me and I won't forgive you for that.” He mumbled against your skin, his lips viciously latching onto your swollen clit and sucking. You cried out as he kept licking and sucking on you faster and harder.

“Miguel...I'm gonna-“You started to feel your throat going sore and raw as you tried to tell him you were about to finish but instead he found the perfect opportunity to show some cruelty to you. He lifted his head and all you saw was his roguish grin.

“You couldn't possibly believe that I would make you cum that easily after everything you've done to me...no, I want you to cum on my cock." He reassured but you felt betrayed by his cold demeanour. Miguel kissed you harshly and bit your lip, as if it was instinct, you whined into his mouth. His cock slapped against your clit and the vulgarity of the wet sound made you shiver, he guided his aching shaft down your sticky fold and pummelled into your leaking hole without any time to adjust to his massive and borderline scary size. You're still not used to it after all this time.

“You're infuriating.” A broken moan fell from your lips as he rutted in and out of you, hitting that spongy spot that made you see stars and fireworks. You meant what you said but you didn't mean it either. He keeps harping on about how confusing you were and you were now beginning to have an inkling that he was onto Something that you didn't have time to self-reflect on.

“So are you.” He exhaled raggedly into your mouth, his strokes were powerful and long and just fucking surreal. He buried himself to the hilt and you squeezed around him mercilessly, clenching like crazy. Your pussy was made for him, you were quite literally sucking the soul out of him.

“Let me cum...please...Or I swear to God-“ You felt the coil within you tighten and threaten to snap if he continued pounding into your raw pussy this way.

"Oh, you swear? Fine then take all of it.” He stuck his talons into your skin and shook your body about as his final thrusts were sloppy and less graceful.

The heat rising within the knots of your stomach released in a powerful gush, your heart kicking into a violent overdrive as your pants were borderline desperate. You came hard on his throbbing cock, the warm stickiness coating the most sensitive parts of him.

He fucked you through your mind-bending orgasm and bit your jaw. He pulled out and released thick white ribbons onto your chest as a guttural groan rippled throughout his body, stilling after he was finished fucking you to the brink of insanity. Your eyes met his and they were wild and angry, the looks you shared were nasty and mean, completely conveying both of your moods. Miguel rolled over beside you as you were practically still leaking from where he plugged his cock into you and your chest which he so vulgarly defiled. Neither of you talked, you had to regain the breath back into your lungs as you reeled yourselves back in from that I love you but I hate what you did sex. You both scowled at the wall waiting for either party to crack through the silence. You swiped a finger on the sticky liquid on your chest, popping it into your mouth for a taste.

"You still taste good.” You said bluntly, hating that you gave in to his intoxicating purpose just by a lick.

“Hm. I should clean you up.” Miguel replied half-heartedly, both of your minds still heavy with the real issue at hand as he leaned up and left the bed to enter your bathroom. You sighed and frowned at the wall splayed out wistfully on the bed. He came back with his boxers on and with a towel and some body oil. He was still pissed and his face was still hard and steely. You only mimicked such a bodily response.

Miguel sat on the edge of your side of the bed and swiped the towel over his own makeshift painting, he threw it onto the floor once he was finished. The thought would have made him smirk any other day but he was combative and assailing, he had no problem showing that to you even though he loved you.

“Sit up.” He demanded coldly and you gave him an unbothered apathetic look and yet he did the same, you couldn't peel your eyes away from each other and that's what made this all the more dangerous. Miguel poured some of the oil onto his palm and started massaging it onto your arms and neck, soothing everything sore.

“This is a nice change of pace.” You joked with little to no humor apparent in your voice. He's never done this before, it was actually...quite nice.

“We wore each other out, don't you think?” He responded coolly, acting so unaffected and nonchalant. You despised such a tedious and banal thing. He kept smothering you in the thick and warm oil, his big hands kneading and teasing you again, your flesh glowing and shining under the soft light of your bedroom.

“I still love you.” You blurted without thinking and his hands stopped their movements and his soft gaze turned into a weary glare. Miguel knew for an irrefutable fact that he loved you too and that's what was making him so deranged and angry. “I feel so exposed and vulnerable for loving you.”

“But you did the one thing that could really hurt me. You left me.” He confessed and the words made your heart sick. You hurt him which was one of the last things you've ever wanted to do. “The amount of vulnerability you're feeling right now is what I have to feel all the time. It's the same story. I started this. I have to lead this. I have to take calculated risks which could blow up in my face and kill millions of people as we know it but you...leaving me was the one thing that really hurt me.” He was baring his soul to you yet again. You blinked up at him, your face easing with every word that fell out of his mouth. You felt guilty for doing this to him after he told you that it would tear him up inside. You grabbed his face and cradled it, the pad of your thumb smoothing out the skin of his cheek.

“I shouldn't have left you. I know I shouldn't have. But I'm scared Miguel...see, I was scared of other people being hurt or collateral because being selfless comes with consequences but if someone else's house is on fire for once I'll let it burn because I don't want to leave you. I don't want to hurt you.” Your eyes were glassy and wide, exposing the truth in the process, and as always you disarmed him once more. Miguel turned his head to kiss your palm, his hand holding onto yours to keep in contact with the skin of his cheek.

“Then don't.”

#miguel ohara smut #miguel o’hara fluff #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara angst #spiderman 2099 #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the verse #miguel ohara imagine #miguel spiderman

[moon-rivr]

treat her better

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

warnings: unprotected p in v (be smart 🤨), semi public sex, oral (f and m receiving), choking, smut, and angst

author’s note: hope you all enjoy <3 other woman pt 2 should be out by tmr or the day after 🫡

word count: 4.1k

Your relationship with Miguel was nothing short of difficult when it started, given that he was so detached from the Spider Society after the loss of his daughter. He was the definition of "all work and no play", coming to his office earlier than everybody else and being the last to leave and always rejecting to go out with the group out for drinks. Apart from distancing himself socially, he always found a way to distance himself from you specially at work, pairing you with someone else for missions. You'd given up on trying to form a friendship with Miguel after constant ignoring from him, seeing it as a pointless task.

One night, however, you were surprised to see him actually show up for drinks with you, Peter, and Jess. you figured that Peter probably had pestered him until he finally snapped and agreed, considering he didn't look all too pleased to be spending some time away from HQ. "Miguel, my man! Come, we'll get you set up with some beer," Peter greeted him, waving him to the table as some people around you all turned to look at the screaming man. Miguel shuffled uncomfortably to the table, the realization that the only seat available was between you and Jess hitting you hard. The scent of his cologne overpowered your nostrils, a little part of you surprised that he'd bothered to put this much effort into coming out tonight.

"Girl, you should find someone to spend time with tonight. I mean, when's the last time you got laid?" Jess asked you as she took a sip of her water, the topic of your dating life coming up sooner than you expected. "And you're sure that sleeping with some random man you met a bar is the best way to go?" miguel asked as he drank his beer, his voice more gruff than usual. "Would be better than the stick you have up your ass," you muttered, trying to ignore the way Miguel turned to look at you. You weren't one to shoot back at Miguel’s retorts but you were growing tired by the way he seemed to judge you for everything. From the way that you handled your missions now to where you met men. Luckily for you, Peter came back from the bathroom and started talking about what Mayday had accomplished today.

After a while of talking, you and Miguel were left alone since Jess was taking care of a crying Peter outside. As the two of you sat in silence, you couldn't help but steal a couple glances at Miguel, noticing how handsome he looked in the black button down he had on. "You should take a picture, it'll last longer," he spoke up after a while, his eyes boring into you as he did. You rolled your eyes at his retort, being reminded of the reason why'd you never be stupid enough to go after him. "God, you're such an asshole," you responded and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at how uncreative you'd been with the insult.

"Tell me, do you still think i'm asshole?" He purred in your ear after he locked the bathroom door. Even with his cock inside of you, he still found a way to get under your skin. You pushed your hips against his, eager to find some type of friction but your movements were quickly stopped when Miguel placed his hands on your hips. "So impatient," he whispered, his breath causing shivers all over your arms. You knew what he wanted you to do, he wanted you to put your pride aside and beg for him but you didn't want to relent. "This would be much easier if you just did what I told you," he told you, a small chuckle escaping from his lips when he saw your defenses start to weaken. He rolled his hips slowly, not enough to please you but just enough to have you wanting more. "Fine. Please just fuck me," you muttered through gritted teeth, already hating yourself for complying.

"See, now we're making progress. Unfortunately, that's not good enough. Beg like you mean it, chiquita," he responded, a small smirk tugging on his lips. You looked up at the mirror, wanting to punch his perfect face but you decided to comply once more. "Miguel, please. I need it," you whined, letting out a soft moan as he thrust his hips once more. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He teased once more before he set a consistent pace. You hated yourself for submitting to him, in a bar bathroom to top it off, but the way he fucked you made you push those thoughts aside. His balls slapped against your thighs as your back arched while you held against the sink, your fingers rubbing your clit eagerly.

"Hey, are you in here?" Jess called out, knocking on the door and your eyes widened. You wanted to speak up and tell her yes, but you were more worried about letting out a loose moan. "You're gonna have to answer her," Miguel whispered tauntingly as he slowed down his pace. "Y-Yeah! I'm here," you called out to Jess, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. "I'm gonna go home, do you need a ride?" Jess asked, being the protective friend as always and you almost felt guilty for being in this circumstance. "No, I'll t-text you when i get home," you assured her, her footsteps retreating after.

Miguel’s hand went up to your throat, forcing you to look up at yourself in the mirror while he fucked you. Your lipgloss was all tainted from the angry makeout session you had with Miguel earlier and your mascara was rolling down your cheeks. "So pretty taking my cock," he whispered in your ear, his thrusts unrelenting as your walls squeezed around him. He squeezed at your throat gently, your cunt gushing all around his cock and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "Should've known mi chiquita's into choking," he teased you, his other hand gripping your hips tightly. You let out a loud moan when his cock brushed up against your g-spot only for Miguel to shush you. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear you, hm? Now go ahead and rub your clit for me," he told you, the hand around your throat tightening up slightly.

Your orgasm approached you quickly, your release coating Miguel’s cock as he fucked you through it. He let out a small hiss as your walls clamped around his cock once more, his cum painting your walls white. He pulled out his cock a couple seconds later, grabbing a napkin to clean himself up without giving you a second glance. You were unsure of why you expected Miguel to act differently after you were done, but you couldn't help but feel upset at how quick he had left. You fixed up your lips and wiped away at the mascara dripping from your cheeks, trying to hide your disappointment as you walked out the bar.

Miguel, to no one's surprise, went back to ignoring you during work. You wished that it didn't bother you as much as it did, but a part of you still felt some type of longing towards him. You came back from your mission, staggering through the Society hallways as you headed toward the infirmary. The one time that miguel had spoken to you recently was to tell you to take someone else on the mission, but you decided to defy his orders. You removed the drenched cloth that you'd pressed against the gash as you leaned against the counter, throwing it in the sink. "I told you to take somebody, damn it!" You heard his voice before he came in, his nostrils flaring once he did. "It wasn't that bad, it's just a cut," you tried to downplay the situation despite the stinging pain you felt every time you moved.

You had finished up with cleaning up the gash to notice that Miguel was still standing there, his face contorted in a deep frown. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just I can't stand to lose you," he told you, your eyes widening as you looked up to make sure you'd heard him right. "I mean the society can't stand to lose you, as a collective," he clarified, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You pursed your lips and nodded, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were. You were about to leave when Miguel grabbed your arm, stopping you from grabbing the door knob.

"I know I've been acting like even more of an asshole after the bar, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve that. Can I take you out to make up for it?" He asked you, your mouth dropping a bit in surprise. "Like to hook up?" You asked him, unsure of what to make of the situation. "No, like a date. I've been meaning to ask you on one but i've chickened out. You obviously don't have to," he responded, completely taking you by surprise. Even though you had multiple questions running through your mind, the main one being 'why?', you decided to agree on going out with him.

Miguel took you to a restaurant he'd discovered in Queens one day, the atmosphere surprisingly pleasant for what part of town you were in. As the two of you shared a meal, you couldn't help but feel Miguel’s gaze on you once more. "Is there something on my face?" You asked him, a little embarrassed but he let out a small chuckle. "No. I just haven't taken the time to really look at your eyes. They're really beautiful under this lighting," he responds, taking a sip from his Coke. "You should cut them up and put them in a jar. Look at them everyday," you responded, using the same strategy he had at the bar. "I would but they look so much prettier when they're attached to your face," he responded, clearly amused by your statement.

The rest of the night was full of playful banter and teasing between the two of you, never a dull moment. Despite all the ways that miguel had found to piss you off and the constant avoiding he'd done, you found yourself wanting to know more and more about him as he shared. He offered you his coat once you two had left the restaurant, giving you a small kiss on the cheek before you two started the walk back home. "I really liked hanging out with you, chiquita. Would you like to go on another date?" He asked you once he escorted you to your room at the society, a hopeful smile on his face. "I'd love to," you responded, grabbing his shoulder and stood up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek.

After that, you and Miguel found time to go on more dates and you couldn't help but fall in love with him a bit more with every bit that he shared. He was very easy to talk to when he wasn't agitated or annoyed, and he seemed to remember all the small details that you shared with him. He wasn't one for big romantic gestures, but he conveyed his emotions with every date that he took you on, treating you like you were the only person worth spending time with. Even members at the society had started to comment on how happy the two of you seemed together, Peter claiming that he knew this was bound to happen.

The first time that you and Miguel had sex as a couple was a complete 180 from the dusty, sticky bar bathroom. He'd decorated the room with some battery-powered candles and put some flowers on the nightstand to provide the perfect atmosphere. He laid you down on the bed when you came into the room, taking it slow as he kissed you. His hand up to your cheek, gently stroking it as his mouth completely invaded yours, taking as much as he could. His tongue and yours moved in perfect synchrony, soft moans escaping from your lips as he did. His lips moved down to your neck, leaving a couple open-mouthed kisses before biting down, wanting to mark you as much as possible. He was careful not to inject you with his venom as his fangs grazed through your skin, his tongue soothing the sting that his teeth had left.

He took his time undressing you, letting out a whistle as he saw the red lingerie you had put on just for him. "You look so pretty like this," he murmured against your skin, his hands moving down to your breasts. His hands lightly kneaded your tits through the bra, sometimes squeezing and tugging at them just so he'd feel them pebble up through your bra. He took it off after teasing your tits for a while, his mouth instantly attaching itself to the right one as he began his attack. His tongue ran over the pebbled nub while his hand massaged the other one, letting out a small chuckle at how you were squeezing your thighs already. Your hands instantly flew to his hair, tugging lightly as he bit down on the soft flesh, giving you a couple matching hickeys.

His fingertips hooked on your waistband before he slowly started to slip your panties off, putting them in his pocket for later use. He pressed small kisses on your thighs, spreading them wider as he got closer to your cunt. He bit down on the inside of your thigh, your hand instantly reaching down to grip his hair. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he whispered before he started to slurp on the juices clinging to your folds. You let out a moan as his tongue sucked and slurped at your pussy, Miguel was eating you out like a man starved. You started grinding your hips against his face in hopes to get more friction but he pushed your legs down, keeping an iron grip on your thighs. "Be patient, corazón."

Miguel let out a small groan as your pussy clamped around his finger, barely open enough to take just one. He slowly started pumping it in and out of you, your soft whimpers filling his ears as he did. His mouth went over to your clit, giving it a couple kitten licks before flicking the neglected nub. Once he came to the realization that your pussy had opened up a bit more, he pushed a second finger in and curled them upwards to hit your g-spot with every pump he did. "Mig! Mig!" You moaned out, unable to say anything else as his fingers continued to thrust inside of you. "I know, chiquita. You're taking me so well," he cooed, the vibrations of his voice against your clit sending shivers down your spine. Your toes curled as you felt the coil inside of you tightening up, almost at at the point of snapping completely.

You came all around his fingers, your back hitting the bed once you did. He took his fingers out of your cunt and looked directly at you as he sucked off your juices. You took a couple seconds to come down from the euphoria that you'd felt before getting down on your knees in front of Miguel. He let out a small chuckle at your eager display, his hand coming to your cheek as he stroked it gently. "Qué bonita," he remarked, his cock twitching a bit in his boxers as he saw your doe eyes looking directly at him. (how pretty) You took your time taking off his boxers as he'd done with you, letting out a soft gasp when his cock hit his stomach.

Your tongue slowly swirled around the red tip, your fingers working the precum that had leaked out all throughout the shaft. Miguel kept his hand on your cheek as you started to suck him off, letting out a small hiss as you ran your tongue down the underside of his cock. You tried to fit him in all in your mouth, but you ended up with tears in your eyes as you gagged on it. "Always so greedy," Miguel commented, his hand on the back of your head as he eased you into it. You settled on taking what you could in your mouth for now and wrapping your hand around the base, both of them working in tandem to give Miguel the pleasure that he deserved.

You took his balls in your mouth, struggling to fit them both in your mouth as your hand stroked his cock, tightening up ever so slightly from time to time. Miguel let out soft moans as you did, his grip on the back of your head tightening up just the slightest bit. You flattened your tongue when he asked you to, your cheeks instinctively hollowing as he started to thrust his cock in your expecting mouth. "You were made for taking this cock, chiquita," he moaned as he started to speed up his thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You kept your eyes on him as he used your mouth like his own personal fleshlight, the sight just being enough to make him cum.

The cum dribbled down your chin as you struggled to contain it all in your mouth, only swallowing once Miguel allowed you to. He helped you get up from the floor, his hands on your hips as he kissed you, overwhelmed at the combined taste of you and him. "Get on your hands and knees," he told you, his cock already starting to get hard again for round two. You did as he told you, shaking your ass a bit as you waited for him to get on the bed. "Looks like iI'll have to fuck the impatience out of you," he told you before he slowly started to push his cock inside your pussy.

Your hands gripped the sheets as he started to thrust in and out of you slowly, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix every time. Miguel grabbed your hands, causing you to fall down on your stomach, and held them against your back as his heavy balls slapped against your pussy with every thrust. He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as he saw you wiggle underneath, your face contorted into one of pleasure. "Feels good, nena? Yeah?" He cooed, knowing that you couldn't let out anything but moans of his name at the moment.

You let out a louder moan when you felt one of the ridges of his cock brush up against your g-spot perfectly, your pussy clamping and gushing all over his cock. "Right there, Miguel!" You mewled as you cried onto the pillow, unable to do anything but take it. He sped up with his thrusts, fucking you like a rabbit in heat as he made it a goal to keep it at that angle. His other hand went down to your clit, rubbing small precise circles on it as your pussy clamped around him like a vice. You felt your orgasm approaching you quickly, your vision slowly starting to black out as you squeezed around him tightly.

Miguel came a couple seconds after you did, the part of him that wanted to see you swollen with his children and your tits full of milk fucking the cum back into you. He pulled out slowly, both of you letting out a small hiss as he did. He got both of you dressed and cleaned up before he laid in bed with you, holding you close to his chest as he started to draw small figures on your back with the tip of his talons. You felt a small shiver run down your back as he did but you felt assured that he wouldn't put enough pressure to actually cut you with them. You drifted off to sleep as soon as you closed your eyes, Miguel’s body heat providing you with warmth that no heated blanket could ever compare to.

Eventually after that night, your relationship with Miguel started deteriorating slowly. It started off slowly, with him not giving you small gifts that reminded you of him anymore to just flat out cancelling dates with you. You really tried to be understanding, knowing that he has a duty to the Spider Society and the multiverse, but you craved the warmth of just having your boyfriend around. It felt like he didn't need to put any effort now that he'd gotten to be with you, almost like he was reassured by the fact that you wouldn't leave him. The change in your mood was noticed by most of the members at the Society, most of them making up theories as to why you looked so upset all the time.

"Hey girl, what's going on?" Jessica approached you, sitting across the table as you ate your empanada. "Nothing's going on. How's it going with the baby?" You tried to deflect away from her question but the look on her face was telling you that she wouldn't allow it. The two of you stayed silent for a couple seconds, just looking at each other until one broke first. "It just feels like Miguel stopped putting in the effort into our relationship, like it didn't matter once we had sex. And I keep making up excuses for every time that he ends up not showing up to our dates but I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this," you confided in her, her eyes softening up as you finished speaking. This was why you didn't want to share your problems, you didn't want to get that look of pity.

"Look, Miguel may be my friend and all but I've gotta tell you, he's a serious workaholic with no idea how to prioritize what's important to him. If this continues, you'll just end up making more and more excuses for him and you'll end up unhappy. Just wait out to see what happens for a little bit longer before you make any rash decisions though," she offered a bit of advice, rubbing your shoulder as she left. You took her words into consideration, knowing that she had a point but you couldn't help feeling like you were betraying Miguel by ending things.

As you waited in the couch of your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment when Miguel had failed to show up once more. You were starting to fall asleep when the bright flashing lights from the portal woke you, Miguel’s tall frame looming over you. "Sorry I couldn't make it. I got busy with taking care of an anomaly," he told you and you didn't have in you to argue anymore, so you simply nodded. "It's okay, Miguel," you told him despite the pain you felt in your chest as you looked at him. "I’ll make up to you, I promise," he told you, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead before walking off to the bedroom.

You called off the following days from work, wanting to clear your mind far from Miguel as you considered if this was truly what you wanted from a relationship. While the idea of leaving Miguel behind you was painful, you couldn't help but wonder if you were only sticking around for the memories. If it was because of wishful thinking that he'd come around to being the sweet, loving boyfriend he'd once been to you. You decided to call Miguel over that night to see if you could try to talk things out with him, how your relationship could be better.

"Look, just because you took time off work doesn't mean that everyone has the damn luxury to skip out whenever they want. Now, what did you call me over about?" Miguel asked you once he arrived at your apartment, his attention still on that stupid gizmo. You quickly came to the realization as you really took the time to look at him for the first time in a while that this relationship would never be a priority to him and that you'd been stupid enough to hope that he would change. "Well? I was in the middle of a briefing," he told you, tapping his foot on the floor expectedly as he folded his arms. You kept your voice even as you spoke the next sentence, not wanting to end on a bad note with him by yelling.

"I want to break up with you, Miguel."

#moon-rivr #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara angst #smut #miguel spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara angst #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o’hara imagine #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #spiderman atsv #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you

[lazyjellyfish300]

The Woman He Didn't Choose 🌹

AU Bachelor Miguel O'Hara x Fem contestant reader

Synopsis: You went on a dating show just for kicks and giggles but faceplant when Miguel is the Bachelor. You made the final two, but he didn't choose you. Angst ensues.

A/N: I started the new season of The Bachelor and it got me thinking, what if Miguel was The Bachelor 😏😏 and what if it ended badly??!! 😫🤗 I'm thinking of using this as a segue into a new series where it'd be like Bachelor in Paradise where you're a contestant along with Spider-Verse favs like Peter B. Ben, Felicia, MJ, Jess. And there could be a lotta smut 😇 and I might bring Miguel back somehow 🤭let me know what you think.😝

If you're unfamiliar with the TV show The Bachelor, usually the finale is aired live, and the live audience watches the footage of the proposal/rejection of the runner up together and then brings the contestants back out to interview them on stage. Here's an example of what I pictured in my head.. ALSO please listen to the song at the beginning it's literally the PERFECT break up song for Miguel. 😫 Word count 4.6k

DISCLAIMER: I have changed the name of the show for copyright purposes, I don't own or have rights to the TV show The Bachelor and all credit goes to the rightful owners.

TW: ANGST, BREAKUP, SELF DOUBT, GASLIGHTING, INSECURITY, JEALOUSY, MENTIONS CYBER BULLYING ,MENTION OF SEX BUT NO SMUT, DESCRIPTION OF TWO PEOPLE MAKING OUT

Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

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The camera pans to you sitting on a green velvet chaise lounge upon a sleek, reflective stage. Your legs were crossed at the ankles, red bottoms peeking out of the slit of the elegant black evening gown you wore.

Your lips were in a pout, trembling as they threatened to give way to a spill of tears that would fall in a neverending cascade down your cheeks. 

You were being made to watch the most horrific heartbreak of your life played back on live television.

Having Miguel look into your eyes mid thrust when the cameras were off and he was on top of you in the Fairytale Suites in Thailand and whisper,

 "I love you....I think you're the one....",

watch you walk down a sandy beach clad in a flowy pink dress that cost $60k and stand in front of peaceful cerulean waters, hands entertwined, look you in the eyes and proclaim in a shaky voice, 

"I feel stronger love for Xina...," was the unforgiving papercut, and being pinned underneath the relentless barrage of scrutiny, hatred, and criticism from the viewers was the lemon juice being poured on top of it. 

You watched yourself on the screen sob as you got into the backseat of the black Escalade as Miguel grimly shut the door behind you. You were taking deep, shaky breaths and leaning on your elbow as you tried to make sense of this profound stab wound he just gave you. Your reddened, teary eyes looked at the camera as your confessional.  

"I.....I don't know what just happened...." You rub your temple and look out the window, your lip trembling and your face scrunching in agony. "The craziest part of all of this is....I still love him...." 

A hushed, sympathetic awh emerges from the live audience. 

You leaned over and cradled your head in your hands in frustration as the black suburban continued to drive. 

"I just.... *shaky breath* wanna.....*choked sob*... be happy...when is it my turn to be happy...?" you break down as the screen fades again to black. This time focusing on you, perched on the chaise lounge onstage. The heartbroken woman Miguel did not choose for his wife. 

The tall host, Jason Donner, is sitting across from you in a black armchair. He has neatly groomed, sandy blonde hair and stubble dotting his square jaw and white, pearly teeth. He looks at you, green eyes in a solemn expressesion. He addresses you, and then the audience in a quiet voice. 

"Wow...that was...truly..... one of the most heartbreaking moments we've seen, I think in all of The Eligible Suitor Nation's history..." 

He says your name quietly, then continues, "Now I am, so, so incredibly sorry that this did not have the happy ending you were hoping for..." 

You're not looking at him but staring off, sad eyes still in a doe-like expression, a tear has escaped your left eye and is trickling down your cheek, followed shortly thereafter by another from your right. 

Jason continues, "Tell me...what are your thoughts as you watch that playback for the first time?" He pauses to hear your answer. 

You stay silent for the longest moment, then you finally break your statue-like gaze and take a deep breath, looking down at a spot on the floor so the audience's piercing stares don't throw off your train of thought.

You suddenly feel a rise of anger and frustration in your chest. What kind of question is that? How do you think I'm supposed to feel? 

You try and keep it cool, the chains of the hefty NDA contract you signed to be on this show keeping you on your best behavior tonight. 

"It feels.....awful, Jason." You look at him, and shrug your shoulders. "I really don't have words for it besides that. It feels awful to watch that." 

Jason nods and leans forward, bringing his fingers  to his mouth in a contemplative manner. "How did it feel when he said Xina was the one, I mean did you see this coming at all?" 

You let out a deep sigh and can't help but roll your eyes a little bit. "No..... no, I did not see this coming, Jason, okay?" You say in an exasperated tone, your words edged with annoyance. "You know what..." 

You stand up, shaking your head. "I can't do this." You rip off your body mic and throw it on your seat. "I can't fucking do this...." You gather up your dress train and carefully walk down the steps of the stage and briskly off the set towards your dressing room, sharp heels echoing as they hit the floor, letting out a large sob as soon as you're out of view, one of the cameramen chasing after you. 

Jason looks at the camera a little mortified by your sudden reaction, but the camera crew and producers are silently rubbing their hands together, the promise of high ratings clouding their vision like stars in their eyes. That's it, bring on the drama. You were delivering tonight. 

Jason clears his throat and flashes a smile at the camera. "Don't worry folks, this has all happened before..." 

The audience gives a nervous chuckle. 

"We'll give her a moment. But just remember, you'll get to catch her again on the beaches of paradise where other hot members of The Eligible Suitor Nation such as the likes of Ben Reilly, *audience cheers* , Felicia Hardy, *audience cheers*, and Peter B....*audience goes nuts* will have a second shot at love in our steamy Singles in Paradise, premiering this summer." 

Jason smiles and raises his voice a little more to be heard over the squeals of the fans. 

"We'll take a quick break but when we come back we'll hear Miguel's side of the story, and, a little later the happy couple will be making their grand debut for the first time in public since their romantic engagement in Thailand, which you'll need to see to believe. I must warn you all, it was probably one of the most romantic proposals we've seen in the show's history. Don't go anywhere folks."

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In the beginning, your friend jokingly submitted an application for you to be on the show after you wouldn't stop bitching about your ex. She reassured you when you freaked out at the email you got from production, confirming your application was accepted. 

"This will be good for you! Even if you don't marry the guy, at least you can get famous and have fun, be on TV for a little bit, get some free alcohol, maybe a nice date or two, yanno? Besides, you'll have a whole new roster of guys at your doorstep after they see your hot ass on television." 

You were still upset until she gave you a list of reasons not to be. Sure, this could be fun, you eventually concluded. You only had a 1 out of 30 chance of winning anyway, why turn a blind eye to the possibilities that could come out of this? 

When Miguel was announced as the eligible man you were going to be fighting for, you quit breathing when you saw how handsome he was. Tall, dark, a little stoic, a little nerdy, wants a family? He was literally pulled directly from your wildest imagination. 

You were intimidated by how attracted to him you found yourself, but you decided when you stepped out of that limo, that you were going to keep your walls up and just enjoy the ride. You greeted him with a shy smile. 

The producers had this weird idea to play up the dramatics that you were supposed to walk in with a bunch of fake autumn leaves from the craft store and throw them in the air and proclaim you're "falling" for him as your signature greeting. 

You walked up to Miguel as he stood in front of the mansion, wearing a poker face. You threw the leaves in the air and one of them flew and smacked him in the face. 

"Ppppppbbbbbbtttfffhh!" 

You said the cheesy ass line, "I'm falling for you Miguel! Geddit?" 

"The shock?...." Miguel gave you a confused look and your cheeks began to heat with embarrassment. 

"Well, I'm from a small town, we're kinda known for our fall colors during the season." You say with a smile. You brushed one of the stray leaves off his shoulder. "I just want you to know I'm very excited for this journey and I can't wait to talk to you more when we go inside?" 

After the initial obnoxiousness of your introduction Miguel managed to put on a polite smile. "Absolutely," he answered. "we'll talk more inside. Thank you for coming." 

You gave his hands a squeeze and walked down a stone path into the large Tuscany style mansion, Miguel's eyes lingering on your figure for just one more moment before he let out a deep sigh. 

🌹🌹🌹

When you started out on the show with 29 other women, you managed to keep a low profile for several weeks, staying out of trouble and befriending most of them, even becoming a fan favorite. Tweets sent out every week with a hashtag in front of your name in support, and constantly ranking in the top 10 favorite contestants in the fan polls on social media. But, it never occurred to you that you had a real shot until, on week 3, a date card with your name on it made its way into the mansion.

Your master plan of just 15 minutes of fame quickly morphed into a life or death situation for your heart when you went on that amazing first date with Miguel to see your all time favorite rock band: Goo Goo Dolls. They played Iris and brought you on stage in front of everyone. You slow danced as the song played, and he leaned in close, softly singing the lyrics in your ear, dedicating the whole thing to you. 

"You're the closest to heaven, that I'll ever be and I don't wanna go home right now. And all I can taste is this moment. And all I can breathe is your life. And sooner or later it's over. I just don't wanna miss you tonight..."

And if the whole scene couldn't get any more romantic, a delicate shower of rain began to fall, and you and Miguel shared your first kiss which quickly snowballed into a makeout session on live TV.

Ever since that date, you became one of his favorites. Sometimes you swore he would look for you first as he entered a room. His eyes scanning urgently until they came to rest on you where they would linger for just a moment. Scarlet eyes that seemed to bleed only for you. 

A language only you two could understand, before he'd gently look away, not wanting to give away his undeniable pull towards you in a crowd of many. 

In between dates, you'd send little tokens to him through the producers like a sticky note that said "thinking of you..." or your favorite dad jokes. He'd read them with a smile and have them respond for him in the form of small Hershey's kisses or a sticky note that said in his messy handwriting,"couldn't stop thinking about you, either"

You'd giggle on top of cloud nine when he'd answer you back and you hid them quietly in your suitcase, not telling a soul. 

Watching him kiss and date other women was much, much more difficult than you expected. Sometimes the way he'd look at one of the other girls would cause you to want to throw in the towel right then and there. 

When you heard that he had kissed them, you couldn't get that mental image out of your mind, much less when you unfortunately witnessed it with your own eyes at one of the pre-elimination ceremony cocktail hours. 

The way she was straddling his lap, making herself look so small in it....the way he was groaning into her mouth, the sounds their lips were making as they moved against each together, letting his hands wander down her back and come to rest on her ass...

The painful sting of jealousy was so unbearable that you just ran away, tears burning hot down your cheeks until you could lock yourself in the bathroom and just settle in a heap on the floor, hand clasped around your mouth so nobody could hear you cry. 

It was so fucking unfair. You couldn't even be upset because this was what you signed up for. You thought you had a fairly strong grip on your self worth when you started the show, but every day tested you more than you ever thought possible. 

You spent hours every morning getting ready with your hair, makeup, and outfits, walking out with your chest high, only to see the way one of the other women's hair just fell so flawlessly or how she barely needed any makeup to look perfect, or how her body just looked way hotter than yours in her tight dress,  causing it to deflate once again. 

But those moments when you finally had him all to yourself felt like you were the only woman in his world. Miguel knew just the right words to hum into your ear and just the right way to touch you with his fingertips. There was no place on Earth like his arms. His heartbeat was a lullaby that could calm you like nothing else. He was making you fall rapidly like no other man from your past could. You buried your head in the sand, taking his words at face value, foolishly believing that he wasn't repeating the exact same thing to everyone else. 

You took the sweet nothings he'd whisper to you and make it gospel. Speeding naively down a road that lead to a dead end of disappointment. Week after week, as the show's episodes aired, the illusion you built yourself crumbled. Words you thought he conjured up just for you reduced to the punchline of some sick undercover joke as he turned around and repeated them to the next woman. 

Realizing the walls of the house you lived in were made out of porcelain. The stone of his betrayal knocking it to pieces. The curtains peeling back revealing layer after layer, causing your mind to go mad with self doubt, not even sure if you knew this man who you uprooted your life for and handed your dignity and heart over to on a silver platter.

 Who was this man who sang those sweet lyrics in my ear while we slow danced like we were straight out of a movie? Who was this man who I followed to the ends of the Earth, made a fool out of myself on live television for? You felt a deep pit in your stomach after every episode. 

Not only did you have to contend with the troubling confusion that this man who you thought you loved wasn't who he said he was, you had to deal with the fact that the show's production was now trying to twist your character for the sake of drama. 

You noticed that things you said were taken out of context and edited as spicy sound bites, painting you as this drama queen and passive aggressive trouble maker in the house. You sort of became their selected agent of chaos once the other firecrackers eventually got eliminated and needed someone new to fill in the villain's shoes. 

You watched the episodes play back with a puzzled look on your face. You knew what you said, you went on the dates, you heard the words that were being spoken, you kissed the man, you gave your body to him, and yet, everything you thought you knew was being challenged before your very eyes. Piecing together two separate versions of him that lived in your head. You thought you were slowly going insane. 

When it eventually came down to you and Xina as the final two for Miguel to choose from, Xina was the soft spoken, drop-dead gorgeous, intelligent, cookie-cutter, Christian sweetheart that every man could hope to bring home to meet his mother. 

Conchata and Gabe took an immediate liking to her during the meet the parents episode right before the finale. During hometown visits, Xina's parents were an endearing couple who had been married for 30+ years who she had an amazing relationship with. If you had to lose Miguel to any woman, then of course it would have been her. 

Meanwhile, you were the framed "bad girl" with tattoos and a cursing habit. You were a little more open about your sexuality, making crass jokes with the other women in the house. You'd definitely burn up if you were to enter a church. At hometowns, your home life was comparatively messier to Xina's with divorced parents and an absent father. 

Your mom and siblings met Miguel and loved him immediately, of course. Every week as the show aired and drew closer to the finale, you had to endure seeing endless tweets and memes putting you down. Lots of older women calling you a whore, saying you're trouble and telling Miguel to run for the hills while lifting up Xina at your expense. 

Conchata disliked you instantly. She raised an eyebrow at your top that was slightly too low cut, and your thigh tattoo that peeked out a little under your skirt. At least Gabe thought you were cool, but you remember how nervous you were sitting through filming when Conchata was grilling you on the patio outside the luxurious suite she was staying in.

"How do you feel about my son?"  She asked, silently giving you a test you were unaware you were taking. 

You paused for a moment. "Well... I love your son, ma'am. I can see myself spending the rest of my life with him." 

Conchata raised an eyebrow. "But do you even know him? You've only been dating him for a few weeks. I know him better than anyone as his mother, and it seems as though he's made really strong connections with some of the other women." 

You tried to shrug off the knot in your tummy her words just left you. "Well...I do, Mrs. O'Hara. He makes me feel special every time I see him. He and I communicate really well and always check in with one another. He has everything I'm looking for in a life partner: strong willed, calm, kind, hard working, intelligent...he makes me happy and I would be honored if he chose me." 

Conchata didn't react, just tightened her lips in a straight line and took another sip of wine. "I see...well, I'm glad that you feel that way and you take such an interest in my son. But, do you honestly see him choosing you at the end of all of this?"

You feel your gut clench again at her question, anger, confusion, insecurity rising within you all at once, but you manage to fake a smile and say, "Well, I can see him as my husband, and I want him to choose me. But, it's ultimately his decision alone. All I can do is hope for the best."

Conchata clicks her teeth and gives you a fake smile. "Indeed...that's all you can do, right?" She stands up. "It was lovely chatting with you."

She already turns to leave before you can muster out a weak, "you too..." 

🌹🌹🌹

Now, tonight on the live season finale, your head was in your hands, with your ears covered like a small child in your dressing room, trying to drown out the sound of the crowd cheering hysterically as Miguel walked up on stage, shaking hands with Jason and sitting on the couch. You heard another loud, lasting round of applause from the audience as Xina eventually walked out joining him. 

You finally felt brave enough to walk back outside and watch the scene from one of the screens backstage, but once you walked up to see it closer you immediately wish you just stayed curled in a ball in your dressing room. 

Xina looked so perfect next to Miguel. Her raven hair fell in soft layers just past her shoulders leaning against him with a hand on his thigh and one of his hands tenderly holding onto the side of her hip, nearly resting on her ass. A gorgeous, dainty solitaire diamond on her ring finger on her left hand. 

Miguel was looking at her through love-blown pupils as she spoke in her quiet, low, sultry voice, the grin on his face widening even more when her lovely dark eyes came to rest on him between sentences. They were in love. And he was happy. She was happy. There was no denying that now that you forced yourself to see it with your own eyes. Who were you to stand in their way of being together, if they were building a life together they both equally wanted....right? 

Even if your heart technically was the collateral damage.

You couldn't pull your gaze away at how perfect they looked. But simultaneously couldn't comprehend how the same man sitting next to her was the one who sang you that song. The same one who took you on a carriage ride in Scotland. The same one who would wink at you after he'd give you a rose at each elimination ceremony. The same one who held you while you began to cry about missing your dad, a shared pain between you two that you could bond over, the same one who spent all night taking his time on you in a dim hotel room in Thailand and told you that you're the one, all for him to suddenly flip overnight and choose her instead. 

You felt like you couldn't watch anymore and just walked back into your dressing room, quickly packing your suitcase, wondering if it was too late to cancel your flight tomorrow and just hope there was room on the red eye flight tonight instead. Wishing you could fast forward time to a place where the sound of his name would no longer feel like a million knives cutting into you. 

🌹🌹🌹

Some time later, a soft knock comes at your door. Before you can ask who it is, he's already walking in and you feel sick to your stomach, the sounds of his footfalls a not too distant memory that you could still distinguish as his. You try to wipe your eyes, not daring to turn around. 

"What is it?" You ask in a flat tone as you resume folding your clothes and squeezing them into your suitcase that threatened to overflow. 

Miguel is looking at you with a sorrowful expression. "I need to apologize to you..." 

"I don't want to hear it." 

"Please..." he begs, walking up to you so you can nearly feel his breath on the back of your neck. 

You turn and face him and his lips part a little bit when he sees how much hurt you're in. He goes to cup your face but you swat his hand away and walk to the other side of the room instead. 

Miguel clenches his fist and closes his eyes. 

"At least tell me you'll be alright..." 

"-oh I'll be fine." You say firmly, crossing your arms. "I've lived without you before, and I'll figure out how to do it again." 

Miguel looks at you with a sad expression. It hurt him to think you actually wanted a life without him in it, but he couldn't blame you. He got what he wanted. He chose the woman he loved the most, and this was the consequence. But deep down he's too selfish to think about you moving on. 

Was it his ego? Was he really prepared to let you go for good? Were his feelings for Xina exaggerated and rather clouded by the whole fairytale notion and weak logic of finding a forever companion on a reality game show? 

He couldn't have his cake and eat it too. He knew he had to let you go. He knew you didn't want an apology, you didn't want to hear a sob story or excuses or false hope that you would always have a piece of his heart, even if it was true deep down. He thought carefully for a moment, then he finally said in a soft voice,

"For what it's worth, I really do wish you the best..."

You look at him. And, just for a moment those lingering feelings you tried so hard to bury make themselves known as he's wearing a look on his face you haven't seen since he was still in love with you. 

Tears threaten your composure again and you quickly turn around, gazing upwards in hopes of keeping them in. "Don't do that..." you say in a near whisper. 

Miguel responds in an equally hushed tone, the tension much more palpable. "Do what....?"

"Look at me that way...." The tears are flowing and you know you need to wrap this up now before you or him say something you'll regret. 

"You're looking at me the same way you look at her..." 

A lump forms in Miguel's throat because he realizes he really does still love you. But he loves Xina too. He made a choice and a commitment to her and it was time to see it through. But that didn't make this farewell any easier. He whispers your name again and you shake your head. 

"I'm fine. I'll be fine. I promise." You give him a weak smile as the tears blur your vision. He takes a step towards you but you shake your head quickly, shifting past him to grab your suitcase. 

He closes his eyes in defeat and tenses his jaw, a tear escaping the corner of his eye. 

You hobble past him with your heavy suitcase, struggling to carry it in your heels. You prop open the door and look back at him one more time and he looks at you, giving you a weak smile. You nod, and your anger subsides for just a moment. "I meant what I said...you know...before..." 

Miguel's chest rises and falls. You don't have to elaborate for him to understand. He still remembers the hidden way you two used to communicate, even if this may be the last time he ever does. 

"Thank you..." he says gently, meaning it. 

You swiftly turn your head, pulling up the handle on your luggage and gather your dress in your free hand as the door softly clicks behind you. You make sure you're out of earshot before you break down crying again. 

As your flight coasts gently through the midnight sky, you lean against your window as though it was Miguel, or at least the version of him that lived in your memory. You close your eyes this time, the distant glow of the moon outside lulling you and beckoning you to a place where your thoughts can't torment you at last, succumbing to a well-deserved rest. 

Miguel stands in his hotel room, gazing at the cityscape outline in the distance, the same moon standing watch in the obsidian skies above. Xina gently calls for him and he turns around and gives her a tired smile as he crawls in bed next to her and holds her close. He shuts off the beside lamp. His mind quickly shakes off the memory of the color of your eyes before he drifts asleep. 

🌹🌹🌹

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spotify #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara angst #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara angst

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Some Fluff, Talk of Death/Afterlife, Suggested Depression, Suggested Self-Harm, Suggested Breakdown, Suggested Anxiety, Light Smut

Word Count: 3.7K

“I recognized you instantly. All of our lives flashed through my mind in a split second. I felt a pull so strongly towards you that I almost couldn't stop it.” ― J. Sterling

It was a hot and humid day. The type of days Miguel hates the most in September because the heat made him uncomfortable and the humidity made his hair frizzy and lose its shape. It was even worse while sitting in a stuffy classroom with ACs that never worked. The rooms were always filled with the strong smell of teenage bodies and dust from janitorial neglection over the summer months. In addition, the beginning weeks of school were a bore with nothing to actually do but sit there and listen to underpaid teachers repeat the same school rules they hear in the beginning of every school semester. 

He was sure he was about to fall asleep at that moment. The heat made him drowsy and the monotone voice of his teacher morphed into white noise. It was nearing the end of the day anyways, and too early into the school year for any teachers to give enough of a shit to write anyone up. He couldn’t take another second of school expectations and the disgusting mix of AXE body spray and floral perfume. But, now when he thinks back on that boring class, he can’t take it on himself to fully hate it. Because, in the same second that he looked toward the clock above the door to check the time, his life changed forever. 

It was instant. Maybe not instant instant, but it was just quick enough to call it instant. She had come in late. Very late with a chest that heaved and tried to keep her rapidly beating heart in her body. Sweat made the front pieces of her hair stick to her face, flushed from the way she had run down the hall to make it to class. Of course, in that moment Miguel found her less than ideal, but he knows now that even in that stuffy school uniform the academy mandated every student to wear, she was the most beautiful goddamn thing that walked the entire earth. And when she spoke to give her name for attendance, a voice and name that will haunt Miguel until he takes his last breath, he knew their lives would be forever intertwined. 

That thought was concrete the second you had walked down the same row of desks as him, stopping at the desk directly in front of him. The smell of sweetness and a bit of sweat, a smell that only comes to him in the early mornings when he isn’t really awake or asleep, instantly overpowered any other smell in the room. If he skips ahead, he can remember nearly every instance in which he leaned his stomach against the hard edge of the desk to get a stronger smell, everytime he held up a piece of your hair to his face, everytime he snuck out of your bedroom window smelling like you after spending the night making love. But, Miguel is a man who follows a strict timeline, who revels in the chronological order of things. 

Instead, he focuses on the first time he had the chance to talk to you. Despite you being only a desk away, it took a few months to hold an actual conversation that was more than, “Do you have an extra pencil?” or “Did you write down the last bullet of that slide?” Despite the lack of communication, the younger Miguel had developed a slight crush on you. He had seen you in the halls between classes and he focused more on you than on the board in class. In all honesty, the delay in conversation was purely your fault. You were an energetic girl, not popular but well known. Someone was always talking to you at your desk in the beginning and end of class. Always laughing with you about something stupid that happened early that day, always asking for help for an upcoming test or assignment, always taking up your time. He could never be mad about it, though. Even if it meant he had lost an extra few months with you. It was okay because even if those months weren’t with you, they were of you. Months filled with the sound of your voice, the addicting sound of your laugh, the glimpses of your smile and shiny eyes. Moments that fill his head when he sleeps at night and when he gets lost in a daydream. 

You had turned to him, asking him about some party one of his friends at the time was planning because he had turned 18. They’re simple, small questions: “What was the address again?”, “Anyone is invited, right?”, “What’s the dress code? Is there a theme?”, “Are you going?”. He had to bite his tongue to stop from scaring you off with manic answers. Yes, anyone is invited but don’t bring some random guy with you. Bring me with you instead. The dress code doesn’t matter because you’ll look stunning in anything you wear. I only want to go if you go. 

“You… only want to go if I go?” You had asked. Your voice was decorated with a confused giggle and your ears had glowed pink. 

Miguel blinked up at you with his own confusion. He had yet to realize his last words had bubbled out of his chest until you were giggling and eyeing him shyly. He was quick to cover his face as it grew warm, and he let out a groan while cursing himself. You had laughed harder then, eyes shining with a build-up of tears as you clutched your stomach. Miguel had spread his fingers slightly so he could peak through them. You were a sight to behold with that enchanting laughter and infatuating smile. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling against his palms. When you had finally reduced your amusement to a toothy smile, you had gently pried Miguel’s hands off his face just enough to see him. 

He was sure he looked stupid, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide over the fact you were touching him. Your hands were warm and small against his and he swore his heart was trying to rip open his chest so it could run to you. He almost went dizzy when your thumb stroked his hands in a comforting manner in hopes of easing his embarrassment. He had never wanted to kiss someone so badly before. Would you have minded? God he really hoped you wouldn’t.

“Miguel?” You sang, a teasing smile on your face as you looked at him, “Are you there?”

Say it again. Say my name again, please. You’re the only person ever allowed to say it ever again. God, he was losing his mind. He still is losing it over you. Every goddamn day. Miguel doesn’t think he’ll ever get it back. You took it from him. His mind, his body, his soul. You took everything from him. It’s yours. It’s yours, it’s yours, it’s yours.

Please, give it back to me.

When he had finally responded to you, your smile had shone brighter and you asked him a question that still leaves his mind dumbstruck when he thinks back on it: What time do you want to pick me up? He remembers the way his breath flew out of his lungs, how his heart had paused and then started running again. Remembers the way your throat bobbed slightly, probably because you had regretted asking the question or maybe, he hopes this is why because he never thought to ask you, maybe because you were nervous too. Just maybe you had wanted to talk to him before this life altering moment. Maybe, somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you were tied to this fool of a boy too. 

He had stuttered out a pathetic ‘what?’ and you had rolled your eyes playfully in response. You ditched repeating the question and had instead given him a time and your address before getting up as the bell rang. While you walked out the door with a small wave and big smile, Miguel sat there in an astonished daze blinking at the board. Time seemed to stop as everyone else around him started walking past him to their next classes. It wasn’t until his friend walked past, jolting him with a slap on the back and a whispered, ‘good work, dude’ before walking out the door that he came back to his senses. It was only then that the conversation finally registered in Miguel’s dazzled brain. He leaned forward and hid his face in his hands again as he closed his eyes and his mouth formed a large smile. 

He had a date. He had a date with you.

His shoulders shook with a silent, delirious laugh.

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Miguel knew he was in love. Or, he knew he was going to be in love. It’s complicated to describe, that nagging feeling that wasn’t exactly scary but wasn’t completely comforting either. It’s even weirder feeling it. Having your mind constantly crying out go home, go home, go home but your body pulls you away from every building and straight towards another body like you’re tethered together. Like he’s tethered to you. Sometimes, when Miguel closes his eyes and really concentrates, he can still feel that sharp tug at the center of his chest that tries to bring him somewhere that he tries to get further and further away from. 

He can’t lie and say it wasn’t the big things that made him think, know, he was in love. Because it was. But it was also the small things. Like when you found out what his favorite color was, yellow despite popular belief, and how you had come into school the next week with your nails done in the exact shade you had made him show you on his phone. Or that time he had seen your phone light up in class and your display had revealed that you were listening to the same song he was mumbling under his breath the day before on repeat. It was the collection of those small details that made his heart beat a bit faster and for his smile to tick up behind his hand.

And it was that first kiss. That damned first kiss that Miguel can still feel ghosting against his lips. That he feels on his bad days like some sort of silent encouragement that he will get through it. Swears those phantom lips are what pulls him out of his night terrors as if to protect him as he pants and cries in those late hours. The same kiss that he wishes he could feel forever and ever and simultaneously burn from memory. Sometimes, he thinks about pulling some poor, unsuspecting stranger off the street and kissing them to see if it would feel the same. When he thinks like that, he instantly goes to the bathroom and dry heaves until his throat hurts. Of course it would never feel the same, what a silly idea. What a betrayal and discourtesy towards you to even entertain the idea. 

The kiss had happened weeks after the party. In between those two moments had been brushed hands, glances in the hallways, and not so subtle flirting whispered during lessons. Each moment had Miguel’s face flushing and heart racing. It left him with a craving for you. So, when you had invited him to study with you in the library, he had eagerly nodded despite knowing he would ace the test without looking over any of his notes. He would be too busy looking at you either way to focus on his chicken scratch. 

You hadn’t gotten much studying done that day either. Instead, Miguel had distracted you with whispered words in your ears that caused you to quietly giggle and smile up at him. He can remember every detail. From the way your cheeks grew to match the pink of your lips, how you had fiddled with the mechanical pencil in your hand, how your eyes had twinkled as you leaned towards him. He remembers how you had grabbed his hand, a soft and gentle touch, asking him to come with you to find a book you needed. Remembers how you had pulled him towards the back shelves filled with encyclopedias with bug-bitten pages. Can still remember the slight dizzy feeling he had when you pulled him around one of the old bookshelves and pressed him into it. Can still feel the hands pressed against his chest to hold him in place as you peaked around the corner in case anyone was coming over. He remembers the notes he chuckled as he asked you what you were doing. Can see the smile you gave him before you pulled him down for the only kiss that will ever matter in his entire life. 

Your lips were soft and tasted like the cherry lip gloss you wore. He had furrowed his brows as his hands came to squeeze your waist while he moved his mouth over yours. He memorized the trail your hands took as they traveled up his chest and tangled in his hair. He can replicate the way his vocal cords shifted as he let out that satisfied groan when you allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth. If he were to look down at his hand right now, he could swear the creases of his palms still have your sticky gloss stuck in them from when he had turned you around to press you against the shelves, but his desperation caused books to fall and his hand went to cover your mouth as you pulled away and started laughing. He had smiled down at you and buried his head in the crook of your neck to muffle his own laughter. He never regretted getting detention for the next few days when the librarian had found the both of you. It just gave him more chances to kiss you when the detention instructor fell asleep. 

It was during one of those detention kisses that he had whispered against your lips to be his girlfriend. You had answered with another kiss and a delighted yes.

☆*:..｡. .｡.:*☆☆*:..｡. .｡.:*☆☆*:..｡. .｡.:*☆☆*:..｡. .｡.:*☆☆*:..｡. .｡.:*☆

It had been a month or two after the one year anniversary that he finally made love to you. It was sometime in the later months of senior year. Another hot and humid day. But instead of being in a classroom, he had been in your room. Miguel remembers that your sheets had been white with a small flower print, throw pillows and blankets making up for the lack of color. They were soft under the material of his jeans as he held you while you cried. 

On that day, your usually clean room was in shatters. Things ripped from your walls, notebooks and papers shoved off your desk, clothes taken off hangers and thrown on the floor. The only things that had survived had been pictures of the two of you and your bed. He had gotten a call from your frantic mother, begging him to come calm you down. That he was the only one that can get through the fog in your mind. He had rushed over, your mother opening the door for him so he could run up the stairs to your room. When he had thrown open the door, his chest broke in a way that made it almost impossible to breathe. He rubs his chest whenever he thinks back to it, like the heartbreak is still there.  

You had thrown yourself in a corner, sobbing and rocking yourself back and forth in a way to seek comfort. The mess of your room had surrounded you, barricading you from everything else. When the door knocked into the wall, your face had left your arms and tear-beaded lashes blinked up at him. You had cried harder when you had seen him. He had strived towards you, picking you up easily off the ground and away from the chaos on your floor. He cradled you in his arms, your legs wrapping around his hips as you cried tears into his T-shirt. He had whispered soft, caring words into your ear, an arm wrapped around your waist and a hand in your hair. 

You had cried for another hour, hiccuping watery words about a scary future. A life of uncertainties and insecurities. A life where you ended up alone and scared and desperate to get by. A world where dreams don’t exist and your greatest fears consume you. Days where you don’t know how to get out of bed and shut up the nasty voices in your head. Minutes where you’re tempted to listen to them and then the hours that follow where you hate yourself for contemplating it. If Miguel were to go into his closet right now, he can find the same shirt he wore. A single shoulder lingering with black splotches of mascara that never fully washed away. Each splotch represents a worry you had trusted him with. 

He had pressed you closer to him, whispering ‘it’s not your fault’, over and over and over again until his throat ached and your cries had died down to soft trembling. Another hour was spent in silence as he had just held you. His hands playing mindlessly with your hair and your breath tickling his neck. The sun had begun to set and a golden glow had lit up your bed in a yellow color.

“It’s your favorite shade,” You had whispered in a broken voice. It was scratchy and rough. Miguel thought it sounded just as lovely as it always has. It reminds him of a pipe organ, beautiful but sad. 

He had to turn around to see what you were talking about. He turned his head slightly to see your hand outstretched, fingers playing as the light spilled from them. He can’t remember a time where you looked so peaceful. He had watched your hand, before nodding his head in agreement. “Yes, it is.”

He reached his hand out, taking a hold of yours gently and connecting his fingers with yours like a puzzle. He brought his hands back towards the both of you, bringing it up to his lips and kissing your knuckles. He watched your eyes, red and puffy from crying. He held your hand to his mouth for a while, his thumb stroking the skin. When he had finally dropped your hand, you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his, just staring into his eyes. Your scent instantly filled his nose. It is the same smell that he has stored in his bedside drawer in a glass bottle. He never sprays it in his room, just holds it to his nose with closed eyes and pretends you’re right next to him again.

“I love you.” The words were sweet and poured warmth onto his skin. He closed his eyes and sat there, letting your words echo in his head until he memorized how each letter and syllable sounded when it left your lips. 

Miguel remembers the strength he used to grab your waist as he connected your lips to his. Remembers that the kiss was different from any other kiss the two of you had shared before this. He still can’t describe why it was different, but he can still feel it in his bones. He remembers pushing his body into yours and you pushing back. Even though his eyes were closed in the moment, he can see everything clearly in his mind, as if he were a phantom watching it. Can see the exact placement of your hands on his shoulders, can see the way your lips parted and the soft noise you made when he had flipped the two of you over and laid you on your back. 

Those soft, soft noises that split his chest open so his heart can absorb them and keep them safe. He remembers every soft pant and plead you had whispered into the air of your room as he stripped you of your clothes, kissing trails down your body. The giggle you had let out when he almost tripped taking off his pants is still trapped between those plaster walls. The soft feeling of your skin under his was like a cloud, your body warmth the sun. He remembers the halo your hair made as the dying sunlight bathed your face and caused your eyes to shine and for your skin to glow. He remembers the light dimming from your face as he slid slowly into you. He had immediately apologized as you whimpered in temporary pain. 

He had slowly moved inside you, taking his time as you held him close to your body. The soft moans of his name traveled through shivers that rode down his spine, the sounds quiet to not alert your parents. His response was the repeated saying of I love you, over and over again. He repeated it, looking down at your face, into your eyes, so you could see the realness and vulnerability of the words. He made sure you felt it as he grabbed onto your skin and buried his head into your neck as he thrusted. He felt the love you had for him in every scratch down his back and tightening of your walls around him. 

He remembers trying to hold on to his pleasure before it exploded right after yours. He had panted as he looked down at you, your breaths mixing together. He had kissed you softly as he pulled his softening member out of you and you smiled against his lips. He had laid with you for a while before getting up, grabbing his discarded shirt and wiping you down before taking you into his arms again and falling asleep. He held you close to his chest, both of you naked under your blankets as the moonlight glowed against the two of you. 

The next morning, he drove you to the closest drug store. The both of you walked to the counter smelling like each other as he paid for a Plan B pill and snacks. It was a story you and him laughed about on the rooftop of your house the night you both graduated from Pym Academy.

CHAPTER 2- THEN: THE CANON

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse smut #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara x reader smut #miguel ohara #miguel o hara angst #spiderman 2099 angst #time and clocks series⏳ #original story #miguel ohara angst #angst #love story

[tarjapearce]

Chapter 7: Silent Violence is Humbled

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: Tension, Angst, emotional discomfort, fluff and comfort towards the end, Strained friendships, verbal abuse, character introspection, character study, anger, hurt, family dynamics.

Summary: Karma keeps it's siege, and a new milestone hits the mark.

Previous

A/N: So. sorry for the delay, had to make some reports for my internship (I'm almost done and out with it 🥹 yay.)

Leaving the hospital wasn't precisely good. A new debt was added to your already trembling credit and to top it off, you were left with meds, a scheduled appointment with a therapist and a plethora of vitamins and supplements.

Of course you had reported everything but the gruesome details to your immediate boss. Not that she didn't sound convinced, rather shocked you were in the hospital.

You only could hope complications wouldn't be a regular guest in your life and bank account.

"I can hear you thinking from here. You ok?" MJ mumbled as she stirred a couple of eggs into the pan. You stared into the endless and spiralling void. Picking at the hospital's pale blue plastic band around your wrist.

You had spaced out as soon as you got  home, the remnants of the perilous encounter with Miguel somehow still remained etched to your skin and mind. Unable to let go completely.

"I think I'll start looking for a better paying job somewhere else."

MJ watched you for a second, "You'll quit Alchemax?"

With a groan, you slouched on the dining table, placing a hand ontop of your head

"I'd love to, but I can't yet. Not until I have something certain anyways. Gotta suck it up for a bit more."

"I'll help you look up on other companies, who knows maybe we find a better thing for you. I don't feel comfortable with you being there with that crazy asshole working in there too. Do you want extra bacon?"

"Pretty please. Thank you, MJ. And yeah, if you're not a scientist in Alchemax, you're basically another exploited worker."

"Stop thanking me. You're my best friend. And I'll help, let me ask Peter if he knows about something somewhere."

She served the breakfast and placed the plate before you. Mayday announced her awakening with a mumble, her tiny hands rubbed her eyes to then look around sleepily, until her blue eyes met MJ.

You couldn't help but stare at the motherly displaying ritual.

Mayday's eyes lit up, shining brighter as MJ approached with a genuine smile that only matched her daughter's.

Your best friend enveloped her little girl in her arms, showering her in affection, earning her a couple of lovely squeals.

"Rested well, sweetheart?"

"Ma ma"

Those syllables alone made your heart leap as a myriad of emotions flooded your brain. The concept you had of it wasn't nothing alike what you were witnessing. There wasn't unnecessary yelling, cussing or physical abuse. All the opposite. A little rush of envy coursed through, but it faded quickly as it came.

It was odd, really. To behold such intimate moment of bonding between the both. It came so natural, full of love and everything you, sometimes at your age still were getting acquainted with. Patience, understanding and caring.

Mayday rested her head on MJ's shoulder and stared at you. Like seizing you for the first time ever, paying attention to your very moves, curious, scrutinizing your soul with her lovely and innocent eyes, leaving no room for disingenuous acts.

You gulped

"Hello" You waved coyly and your heart trembled with something unknown as she giggled your way, approving of your presence. She knew no evil nor judgement. Mayday didn't judge you. Just like her mother. She was pure joy.

"When's the shrink's appointment?"

MJ's voice snapped you out of your mutinied thoughts.

"Uh in a month or two." You mumbled while digging in your breakfast. It tasted like utter love and heaven after having nothing in your stomach for more than a day, and your stomach tolerated it well.

"Are you nervous?" MJ fed Mayday with the bottle, your mind subconsciously took notes of the way she held, fed and talked to her.

"Very. Not a fan of spilling my issues to strangers, even if it's their job."

"I know it might be difficult for you, considering the shitty attention you had before with them. But if the doctor says so, you must do it."

"I know." Your lips sighed, heavy with resignation to then purse into a tiny smile, " I just wanna move on, you know?"

"You will, I know so. You're strong, sweetie. Now eat up and drink your vitamins."

You chuckled, feeling her maternal instinct through the table.

"I think I'm already gaining weight."

MJ chortled as she wiped Mayday's cheek and lips, to then kiss the tip of her nose.

"Wait until you get your feet swollen, the hormone changes. Acne on your back, and the need to jump on-"

"Ok! ok, got it." Your cheeks flushed as the redhead just laughed now at your embarrassment.

"It won't be easy, but you'll get used to some stuff. You'll see."

-----

If there was something that Peter wouldn't openly admit, was the fact he disliked Miguel's sense of disposition of his time.

Sometimes his friend's hubristic demands had him juggling between his own time and his family.

Peter hated when Miguel simply let him know he was on his way. He didn't care if he was busy or was about to be, but also meant one thing. Stress was eating Miguel alive and he, as his best friend, was the only he could rely onto to take away such heavy burden.

With a sigh, Peter prepared mentally for the night. Specially to give his ever patient wife an explanation of a sudden visit. As if the universe made sure MJ and Miguel to never properly meet beyond pleasantries. If they had seen and meet eachother a couple of times was too many.

MJ was either out because of work, leaving him and Mayday alone, or the days and hours Miguel visited were when MJ was already asleep or too busy to sit and socialise with her husband's friends.

Peter has known Miguel for a couple of years by now, and still things didn't change.

He put a couple of beers to cool, then stirred the pasta. Miguel wasn't a picky eater, yet it made Peter stress over the food choice. But MJ wanted pasta and he was none to ignore his wife's whims over his friend's.

How long has it been since he saw Miguel? Months? Half a year? He didn't remember, but hoped that he wouldn't stay too long. Work had chewed, ate and spat him on the floor way too many times to count today.

His shoulders slumped, defeated before hia daughter's sweetness when Mayday gave him a toothy grin, he returned the smile, although tiredly.

"Let's get you some dinner."

He held his daughter in one arm, as he served a bit of noodles in her favorite spider-ham bowl and somw juice in her sippy cup. Peter put her in her chair and placed the food before her  just in time as the doorbell rang.

"It's not that I don't like him, you know? I'm just tired today." Peter mumbled to himself and Mayday as he scratched his stubble and walked over the door.

May could only look at him, curious, bur the bright colors of her cup demanded her attention. To his little surprise, the man in question was there, scrolling through his phone in the meantime. Dressed in a casual button shirt, dark jeans and dress shoes, holding a small bag of sweets as a gift.

"Could you please start letting me know when you're coming over from now on? It's not that hard."

Peter's frustration wafted through his words as Miguel chuckled and followed him, the smell of cologne tickled the host's nose, almost a bit too pungent.

"Had to. Needed a distraction. Here"

He handed the paper bag to him, full of artisanal mexican sweets. At least this time, Miguel was thoughtful enough to bring something he knew Peter liked.

But it also meant one thing. A long night ahead.

With a sigh and defeated shoulders, Peter went to the kitchen, rummaging through the simple glassware to fetch a couple of glasses.

"I have... soda, apple juice, can't give you the beer until Mayday's asleep."

Miguel just quirked a brow and went for water. It was kinda bothersome for him how something so trivial as drinking a beer was a forbidden thing among parents whenever their children were around.

Overprotection and alienation from such things would only make them curious if anything. At least that's how it worked for Miguel. Still, it was Peter's home, and he had to play by the unspoken parenting rules his friend followed to a T.

How inconvenient

Miguel's eyes wandered through the table to land on Mayday. As a happy kid she was, the sauce was smeared all over her cheeks and chin, even her hands and forearms. Some noodles hung on her chin.

Even though his logical side appealed towards a scientific fact about babies discovering everything through their hands and mouth, the sole idea of having to deal with it on a daily basis and probably at every hour the kid would be awake and eating, made his eyes to tear away from the child and sigh, relieved he didn't have to cope with that sort of problem.

He had done his part, and against all logic, you had decided to keep the baby.

Pendeja. (Dumbass)

He huffed, annoyed to none but himself.

What would you do? It wasn't his problem anymore. He had more important things to think about than you and your stupid choices. His jaw clenched.

" You're gonna scare Mayday if you keep glaring like that."

Peter spoke as he cleaned up his daughter after feeding her with some bits of sausages. Miguel sighed as his arms untangled from his chest. A habit he subconsciously adopted as he was way too deep in negative thoughts. He gave his body some slack. He had came here in order to relax amd distract himself.

"Wanna tell me what happened or you wanna wait by having some pasta?"

In fact, now that Miguel was here he could take a good look at the scene before him. Peter had changed so much to the point of transforming himself into a completely different persona.

There was no more staying up past one am, lost in beers and talking about whatever thing alcohol made him spill out of his mouth. Reluctantly, good days. And now Peter was serving him some overcooked pasta that somehow tasted good. Even for him.

Hypocrite.

His mind reprimanded himself. He had wanted kids once but now seeing how it changed and rewired the brain chemistry and your fiasco, the thought of them had been shoved to the very back of his priorities. He had a career and money to make, not play house amd happy family with a stranger.

As much as Peter was his only true friend, he didn't want to look awful and perpetually tired because of a kid, like him.

With a sigh he dug on the food while staring at the both. The tangy smell of the sauce induced the little hunger he ate the pasta. A couple of minutes later passed when the key's tinkering echoed from the main door, revealing none other than MJ balancing a couple of paper bags in hands.

Miguel watched as Peter immediately rushed to her side and helped her out, while welcoming her with a kiss.

"Smells good!" MJ chirped and made her way towards the kitchen, Mayday's eyes lit up as soon as she saw her mama. A bubbly squeal received her when MJ ruffled her fiery curls and took her in her arms, rattling Miguel's ears.

"Hello there, precious" MJ kissed her cheek but then focused her gaze on Miguel. He tensed briefly to then give a polite smile.

"Hey."

MJ nodded and gave her respective hello back. Peter came into the dinning table with an awkward smile. He didn't need to explain the presence of his friend to his wife, as she quickly picked up the cue to get Mayday to sleep.

For some reason, the energy in the room was suffocating. As if Miguel was the black hole sucking the life and energy out of everything even without intending. Yet, Peter tried to shoo the negative aura that lurked around ominously by unpacking the groceries as he talked to MJ

"How was your day?"

"Good, a bit tiresome. But definitely better now than I'm home."

"Want extra cheese in your pasta? Oh! Miguel got us some candies."

MJ smiled politely at him, "Thanks for that. I loved the eh... Maz-uhpan?"

"Mazapán." he corrected gently.

"That thing. Peter, dear can you get the tub ready for May?"

It was Peter's cue to meet her in private.

"Excuse me." She took Mayday and Peter followed, leaving Miguel alone for a moment. Giving him a break from unwanted displays of family dynamics.

Once in the bathroom and away from prying eyes and ears, MJ cleared her throat

"Before you get angry, I didn't know he was coming until fourty five minutes ago."

MJ quirked a brow knowingly and huffed.

"I know. Still, the least he could do is to let us know he's coming over, Pete."

Peter nodded while rubbing his face, tiredly.

"I'm sorry, ok? Will make him go away soon. He's not having a good time right now."

MJ rolled her eyes while Peter added some soap to the water.

"Yeah, he only comes for a visit whenever he needs something out of you."

"MJ" Peter grunted the silent plea. 'Not now.'

She chuckled and kissed his cheek, "You know it's true. But, if it works for you, then ok. Just don't stay up past one. You snore too loud whenever you get little sleep."

"Relax, he probably just want to ramble, take a beer and leave."

"Alright, alright. He could tone his perfume a bit though. I can smell him from here. Go have fun."

-----

The beers clinked in the table, their taste numbed briefly Miguel's throat and tongue. It burned good as the sour liquid rolled down his esophagus, while Peter rambled on about the many pictures he showed him of Mayday.

Not that he didn't appreciate Peter's attempt to make him forget whatever problems were pestering his mind. But if honest, he grew tired after the sixth photo.

"You should have another."

That made Peter shut up and he chuckled.

"No no. With her is enough."

"You sound regretful."

Miguel mumbled as he finished his beer, Peter shook his head vehemently.

"At all. I know I look like shit, Mig. Still, would do it all over again. Like, look at this!" Peter got the screen close to his bored face with another picture and Miguel pushed it away softly.

"Yeah, she's a pretty girl. Got it."

"You don't get it. Once a kid shows up, everything changes."

You've got no idea...

His mind replied, as his body tensed once more.

"Have you talked about this with Dana?"

The name only made the urge to down the other beer in a go, but his mind almost slapped some sense into him and reminded him this wasn't his home.

MJ's steps alerted both men briefly as she came for her extra bowl of soggy pasta and wash Mayday's bottles.

"We broke up." He stated simply with a disdainful shrug

"What the fuck?

MJ turned to Peter, a brow quirked at his choice of words but focused again on the bottle.

"Miguel, you texted me, saying you were looking for wedding venues with Dana. And now you're single again?"

MJ's breath hitched.

Dana

Oh God

Dana D'Angelo.

Miguel's fiance. And the one that slapped you.

MJ had been so busy with work and her motherly duties that totally forgot about her husband's companion.

Miguel.

The man that only relied on her husband's company whenever life was too much for him. An acquaintance that she had only seen a couple of times and shared the same roof as her, although briefly in the few times Peter invited him over.

And also, the man that had gotten you pregnant, and had sent you to the hospital in a fit of rage. The very man that was causing you so much pain, had taken a place on her table, with her family and now was talking comfortably with her husband about his failed love, thanks to none other but himself.

Her heart wrenched and beat so fast in between powerful contractions that it made her breath shaky.

A monster was in her home. A terrible man had waltzed into her safe space and was tainting with his rottenness everything he touched, with his pungent and hubristic smell. His cologne and attitude only made her stomach churn.

"It didn't work out."

She turned to see him, unbelieving in her green eyes. So well behaved, ever polite and not an ounce of guiltiness in his judging stare. Entitled even, as if the world owed him just cause he existed. MJ understood now why it was so easy for you to fall into his trap, but the anger that clawed at her brain was greater than anything she had experienced before.

How dared he come into her home and play the victim when he had forsaken you and his child? How dared he disrupt the natural balance in her house with his mere presence?

"She was getting too annoying for me, anyways. Always behaving crazy." Miguel gestured with a terse movement of his hand before slicking his dark brown strands back.

Oh, how dared he. Those last words made her patience thread to stretch impossibly thin, that it broke.

"Well of course she'll act crazy! You fucking cheated on her!." MJ's hands balled tight at her sides, and glared daggers at Miguel.

Both men snapped to look in her way.

Miguel's eyes widened and Peter blinked almost stupidly at his wife and then at his friend that seemed like a deer caught in the headlights. Few little things in life managed to surprise Miguel, and MJ exposing his dirtiest secret to the only person he trusted outside Dana so carelessly and abruptly, had definitely caught him off guard.

"W-What?"

"He cheated on Dana, Peter."

Miguel swallowed thickly, a shaky breath turned into a steady one, anger coursing through his veins, his mahogany eyes narrowed.

Not them too...

He rubbed his face and hair again, trying to remain composed. If Dana had came for him and gave him no truce, MJ went straight to the jugular. Remorselessly for the kill.

How did she know?

A new wave of fury washed over him at the sudden implication his mind was brewing with, his hand clawed at his bouncing knee.

Did she know you?

What a sick, twisted and small world he lived in. Of course she did. Or else he wouldn't be here, trying to come up with a reply to his shocked friend. But he was cut short from everything, even thinking.

"You don't know shit." Miguel couldn't help but hiss, and his words were enough to throw Peter's patience out the window.

"That's my wife you're talking to, pal." Peter scowled, flabbergasted at Miguel's words as he stood with a warning finger waving at his... friend?, "Tone it the fuck down."

"She doesn't know what she's talking about, Pete!"

Miguel felt ridiculous, not only cause the now constant need of explaining himself, but the absurdity of the situation. He was holding his friend's arm, trying to get Peter to believe him, just like he did with Dana.

But Peter was focused into getting MJ calmed down as she kept cussing his way

"Of course I know, asshole!" She spat, "I know enough of you to say how much of a piece of shit you are!"

That definitely earned her a growl "Whatch your fucking tone"

"Or what?! You'll try and hurt me too like you did with (Name)?! My friend has been suffering nonstop because of your pathetic excuses of being a man!"

If the many years prior to marry MJ taught Peter something, was that if she used foul language meant she was beyond pissed, and rightfully so. She wasn't one for cursing, and things surely would end up terribly wrong.

"You cheated your fiancé, got my best friend pregnant and demanded her to get an abortion-"

"Wait... You... you did what?" Peter's eyes widened and hardened, Miguel was cornered as Peter faced him, still containing his wife.

"No, no. That's bullshit!" Miguel's hand gestured as the other anchored to his hip. His poor attempt of bravery did nothing but set the fire ablaze in its full glory, it all had caught him so off guard he barely could think of comebacks to fend for himself.

"God... You're such a fucking liar!" Peter held MJ back as she seethed, trying to get a hold of Miguel, "I was there at the clinic with her! Cause she tried to correct your fucking mess!"

"I tried to fix-"

"You don't get shit fixed by writing her a fucking check and tell her to get rid of your child! Man the fuck up already! She's so under so much pressure now-"

"Because she's so stupid and chose to fucking keep that thing!" roared Miguel. Tired of being cornered without his usual pretense of control. Shoulders heaving with shaky and wrathful breaths, realizing the mistake he just did.

Peter glowered at him. Not only had he dared to yell at his wife but had been lying to him this whole time. And Mayday was crying. The commotion had been too great that woke her up.

Another pillar in his life was crumbling around, shaking the little constants he still remained with, to their very core.

Peter seized with him a look he had never seen before in his apparently dumb face. Disgust. He was about to protest but Peter's question only brought him to a too bright and unwanted spotlight.

"Is that true?" The tinge in Parker's voice held nothing but utter disbelief, not accusing, but skeptical. As if realizing he was being fooled this whole time as well. Peter slapped Miguel's hands away as he tried to reach for him again.

Shit

His aloof act had spreaded way too fast that didn't give it time to properly root and settle on his inner's circle brains ro control later. Peter growled at the stretching and pregnant silence.

"I'm fucking talking to you." The hard push of his hand made him sway softly, "Is that true!?"

Miguel's eyes widened. Peter's bravado and anger was something he didn't know until now. If honest, Miguel thought of him a complete goof that did everything his wife told him to. A complete mandilón.

If MJ told him to bark, he would and even do a flip while at it. But this man before him was different. Confident, authoritative, honorable, pushing his patience to new limits and oh so disgusted at his actions. A true father and man, unlike him.

A reluctant daddy.

Miguel really had a hard time grasping the magnitude of his doings and how they affected others, cause his remorse was absent. Everything he should be feeling at this collective verbal berating was gone. He was more focused in the defensive than offensive, and he failed.

Upon Miguel's silence, Peter just stared at him and sighed. He wasn't worth it.

"You need to leave, Miguel."

Ash soured the aforementioned throat. A thick lump knotted tightly on Miguel's windpipe.

"What? You're believing every word that comes out of her just like that?"

The question itself was stupid, he knew much so. But Peter didn't budge, in fact, he didn't even look at him as MJ went to fetch her daughter.

"You gotta be kidding me, Parker"

"Am I fucking joking? No. Leave." He shimmied away from Miguel's grasping hands with a disgruntled growl

"Look, I know I fucked up, okay-"

"Damn right you did" Peter pushed him away once more

"Can you listen?! " Tanned fingers sunk on Peter's arms forcefully, preventing him from escaping further, but that only earned him a powerful shove that made him nearly fall. Unlike you, that barely moved him an inch .

"Not this time. I talk and you listen. My home, my rules. Don't like it, get the fuck off." Peter hissed, the day's misfortunes and stress had piled up in his brain and Miguel's actions did nothing but set it all on fire.

"You can't just come into my house unannounced, yell at my wife for calling you out and your bullshit and expect me to remain quiet." His hands moved frantically, "You can't go around acting stupid, being a shitty friend, hurting people and believing the world owes you shit, Miguel!"

Peter turned his back on him, breathing deeply, trying to control the rising anger, finally breaking contact. His shoulders slumped with defeat.

"I knew you were an asshole, but c'mon man... Your own child? Really?" His blue eyes felt like an iceberg caressing upon seizing him a over his shoulder.

"Y dale con la misma pendejada... I did what I thought was right, okay?!" Miguel protested, trying to appeal to that good side that definitely lacked right now.

Peter turned again and stepped in a few strides closer to him, fear lacked in his glare, instead a fiery and scorching fury burned within

"Manning up is the right thing." His calm seething only made Miguel gulp, "Owing your mistakes is the right thing to do!" Peter's voice raised an octave louder

"What kind of fucked up logic is to think you can choose to cheat but choose to not face the consequences?!" Peter jabbed with force his index finger at the treacherous man's chest before him as he hissed every word.

"Funny thing is that you always saw me as a clown. Always bragged on how perfect your life was and thought of me a man child." Each word that came out from Peter was like a stone hitting Miguel,

"And look at you now, acting exactly like that!. How ironic that the roles reversed now." Peter's voice trailed off.

Miguel rolled his eyes so hard it hurted "No me jodas, Parker. Don't fuck with me with your shitty morals You didn't want children either, remember?!."

Disappointment and repugnance plastered all over Peter's face as he shook his head.

"People can do something called change, Miguel. Call me whatever you want, but at least I can say I am a man, cause I owe my mistakes. I don't go around screwing people over and then leave them to fend for themselves."

Peter went to the main door and opened it, with nothing else worthy to spill at Miguel, "Get out."

"You're an hypocrite. When you didn't want kids, everything is alright, but when I do I'm a fucking monster?"

He wasn't welcomed comed anymore. And this only added a couple of more weights in his already heavy bag of burdens, igniting his arrogance even further.

"Are you seriously playing the victim right now?" Peter huffed, "Grow a pair, Miguel. You need them. Get out."

Peter was done, all the energy that had been left was sucked out of him and the stranger before his presence was his biggest leech, he awaited for Miguel to leave, which made the exposed man's chest tighten uncomfortably. The friendship had crumbled. There wasn't anything left for him to salvage anyway.

"Fine." He took his jacket with a forceful grab, "Have it your way then." He spat and left the house with a slam that shook the doorframe.

Your eyes raked over the cream colored walls, as your back nested comfortably against the stretcher. Silence reigned with such deliciousness it soothed your underlying nerves.

A month and a half had gone by ever since yiu had that unwilling visit to the hospital, hitting the sixteen weeks of pregnancy. Your meds worked relatively good, and so did the vitamins to the point of getting a bit more strength and color in you.

But today was different. Everything felt different ever since you woke up. The sheets felt divine, the mattress had the right amount of hardness to help with the lumbar area.

The water in the shower felt heavenly on your skin, it was as if the universe was preparing you for a surprise after so many tough times.

Whatever it had planned, you hoped it was good, or at least, digestible enough to not choke you with it.

The doctor, Mrs. Vincent, typed some information in her computer, then stood to whir the machine alive.

"Lift your shirt up, please." Once you did, she smeared a dollop of blue gel on your naked belly, something you barely had the chance to admire, too busy trying to adapt to the emerging changes in your body.

Some clothes had stopped fitting and if they did, they were a chip too tight. The baby bump wasn't enormous like you had thought, but it wasn't small either, after all, Miguel was a big man. It had enough curvature to make your belly poke out from any clothes you had.

I feel like a walking avocado...

MJ was sitting next to you. Although you felt guilty because of the scene Miguel created at her home, she was more than happy to put him in his place, and so her husband. Peter.

Bless him.

You haven't properly known the man but that action alone of standing up for you against his friend of years, made you a bit hopeful.

You weren't looking for a partner, much less a father to the creature growing within, the least you wanted to do was to complicate yourself even more and add another thing in the already long lists of stress you went by.

But in truth, you wished to be there to see his downfall. Not that you were spiteful, but karma surely was a beautiful thing to watch. And the thought of him being this scared and uncomfortable man, the opposite of what you had seen and experienced, made your lips curve into a satisfied smile.

Life had heard your pleas and you were thankful.

Your breath hitched as soon as the machine's accessory made contact with your skin. Cool plastic, like the cold gel all over your skin.

"Let's see", Dr. Vincent mumbled as she adjusted her glasses in her nose bridge. The white light illuminated well the, place, her faint smell of vanilla perfume tickled your nose, it wasn't an offensive perfume, but it made you a little queasy.

It definitely shut down the medicinal smell you had been received with.

Dr. Vincent's gloved hands took the transducer and gently moved it around your belly.

"Does it feels cold?"

You nodded with a nervous smile, "A bit, yeah."

Mayday's giggles echoed behind you, MJ shushed her with some gentle words and her breath hitched when she looked at the screen.

The redhead looked like was experiencing so many things for the first time again, yet she held your hand with excitement thrumming in her skin.

"Look at that, Mama"

The word still made you uncomfortable, but the way the doctor had spilled it felt oddly soothing. The baby was there, etched forever to your womb, growing within your guts each passing day, squirming like a little worm, making it's presence known with a kick.

MJ could only watch as you chuckled. Your features softened the more you stared at the screen. But then your eyes widened at seeing the baby's 3D image.

Resting against one of your womb, comfortably, squeezing it's little hands over and over.

And if honest, curiosity had gotten a vice like grip on you. The way the baby moved and nested within you was equally disturbing and beautiful.

The transducer moved all over as Dr. Vincent looked up the right angle. Breath grew short and caught in your throat at the doctors next words.

"There she is"

MJ gasped, excited and your eyes turned bleary.

A girl. You were having a girl.

"Congrats, Mama." The doctor printed the pictures.

The little bean inside was a girl. There was no longer an it, no longer the creature, or the baby.

Despite the though times you've endured, she was healthy. Perfectly developing, a bit underweight, but healthy.

A myriad of things crossed your mind, panic, admiration, fear and so much confusion. They all swirled inside your jumbled head, fighting over the control of your emotions.

MJ squeezed your hand as soon as she noticed the red-ish hue blooming in your nose and the glossy eyes.

A little sniff was stifled. The doctor smiled at your apparent emotional reaction.

"It's ok to cry. I've gotten too many boys in the week, seeing a girl a was a change of pace. Thank you for that, hun." Dr. Vincent spoke with a sweet voice.

You couldn't help but sob silently. Digesting every second of what had just happened. The nauseas had subsided momentarily, as if sensing you needed your strength for something else.

It didn't help your hormones that Mayday took a hold of your finger, big blue eyes staring at you with pure child like wonder as if demanding your attention. Your lips quivered, and when she cooed your way, you broke.

It's alright.

She'd surely say. MJ held you close, rubbing your back in soothing circles, letting you absorb the news at your own pace.

"You ok?"

You nodded, holding onto her tightly.

"It's a girl, MJ"

Your best friend smiled sympathetically your way, "Indeed. And she's healthy. You've done a fantastic job in keeping her that way, sweetie. I'm proud of you."

Her words did nothing but make you cry harder.

"I'm so scared, MJ"

"I know. But it's alright. I'm here and Mayday too, remember?"

You chuckled in between tears and sighed, while wiping your tears.

"I'm so scared cause... I don't wanna repeat things all over with her."

"Then let's make them differently, ok? I'm here. You're not alone."

You hugged her once more.

"Let's celebrate, yeah?"

"I... I don't know if I should even do that, all things considered."

MJ chided your name gently.

"You deserve it. You've faced so much already, this little girl right here" She placed her hand in your belly, "has stayed healthy and perfect because of you. You've done so much. So let's celebrate that, ok?"

Even if you thought yourself undeserving of such thing, you nodded and followed her.

You wouldn't admit it, but a deep deep part of you bloomed with a little seed of curiosity and excitement.

-----

Taglist:

@serpentstarr @randomnobody187   @8xbygirl   @del-ightfulling @iytatsworld @moonzuzuu @huehuehuehuehehe @ryk-mt @deputy-videogamer @sizeablysized @katitakenway @stealyourblorbos @beingdeluluisthesolulu @death-moth-art @obsessedwithromance @crybabiixo @spiderpapi2099 @tremendouswolfsaladranch @cherrycosmos392 @sbrn0905 @xylianasblog   @elgatofx @eepiebeepie @vonev @tatatida @freehentai @scaryplanetdestroyer @minalovesyoubabes @emeloyy @migueloharastruelove @jdbxws @m4dyy @nyxzoldyck6 @fruitychae @francesca-the-1st @siidmm @ana-paulinathe-arts @artyanimi @damhanallagorm @lauraolar14 @what-is-your-wish @oharasfilipinawife @jellyboob @aockskcw @ittybxttykxttytxtty @smartyren @plumplum2099 @angel-of-the-moons @reader-1290 @kaidxra @kimmis-stuff @amberpanda99 @orangemango7

#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Of Flowers and Hummingbirds #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara angst

[drefear]

Lost in the Lies of Us, Lost, Ain't no Finding Us

Inspired by @ofherdesire series of toxic Miguel, the characters are all theirs (aside from Miguel lol)

TW: arguing, cheating, lol bits of smut, toxicity, gaslighting, violence, crazy shit y’all.

“And if you wondered if I hate you, I do”

The day was bright and Miguel squinted at the sunlight. It was the next day, and he sighed as his doors opened.

“Peter, I don’t have time for-”

“You broke up with me through Lyla?” Her voice rang out and echoed around the metal structure, making the muscles in Miguel’s shoulders tense.

“I didn’t want to deal with this.” He turns and she’s already up on his platform, leaning to one hip with her arms folded over the yellow emblem on her chest.

“You mean you didn’t want to deal with me.” She shot back and he groaned, running his talons through his hair and feeling the knots pull against his scalp.

“I don’t even know you anymore!” He yelled and took a step towards her, his presence drowning compared to her thin physique. She backed away instinctually and he huffed through his nose. “Solías ser mi sol, pero ahora solo me muestras tu oscuridad.” He grumbled and turned away, “This doesn’t have to be so dramatic, just be professional and return my clothing.”

“So what? We can act like nothing ever happened between us? Like you didn’t love me?” She barked like an upset chihuahua and stepped into his personal space. “You’re just going to toss me aside like I’m nothing, like her?” She hissed and he swung back around to her, getting in her face.

“Do not bring her into this.” His voice dropped to an octave she’d never heard before, making her hands sweat a bit from nervousness. With tears building in her eyes, she refused to break eye contact and added to her previous statement.

“You’re nothing without me.” Her voice was shaky and her hands balled into fists, steeling herself to his gaze, but his look shifted from angry to unbothered and she felt herself waver for a second before he spoke again.

“I’d rather be nothing without you than miserable with you.”

Your hand felt warm with Pedro’s reciprocating the interaction, and the smile he gave you made everything around you blur as he was your only focus while you two ate lunch, but a ringing broke you both from your gaze and his eyes looked down.

“I have to take this.” He pecked your cheek before standing from where he was sitting and walking away. You sat on the cafeteria bench alone, waiting for him. Everything felt right, you convinced yourself.

Weeks later, and Miguel had been distant from the entirety of the society (more than usual), staying on his platform and burying his nose in multiverse affairs without leaving the comfort of his depressing desk. Everyone had heard the news of his breakup, and many were vying for the hand of one of the prettiest and most graceful spider women the society had, but he knew better. He knew what horns lay under her beautiful and soft blonde hair, the vicious tongue she had behind those white teeth that dazzled every time she smiled.

Miguel finally left his dark lair when he heard about a mishap that involved the spider t-rex and the gunslinger spiderman. He passed by the infirmary when he heard soft groans and a very familiar, sweet whimper that made his body freeze. He had heard those sounds in his own ear a few weeks ago, being the cause. As he stepped in the room, he saw shadows depicting exactly the image he assumed. He pulled the curtain and he wasn’t surprised to find his ex girlfriend on her back under someone, but it was the person on top he was furious about.

A message popped up on your watch from Miguel. It’d been so long that seeing his name on your watch frightened you, made you squirm until you read the contents of the message. You rolled your eyes, a twisted emotion spiraling out of you as you tensed. You knew it. Now that he was alone again, he was trying to wiggle his way back into your bed and to do so, he was trying to make you suspicious of your boyfriend, the man who showed you off to the world like a prize.

That was days ago, and after that phone call he’d received and the message you’d gotten from Miguel, you noticed that Pedro was distant, no longer present with you but always off in another place mentally. You were walking with Jess and Ben when you saw something your eyes weren’t meant to see.

There was your loving, doting boyfriend who you’d just been in bed with this morning, making love during the sunrise as he whispered dirty and beautiful ideas in your ear.

With his hand twirling those golden locks you’d grown to dread, come to hate.

“Shitty of you to make me feel just like this,”

Jess raised a brow as Ben continued speaking, and turned to where you were looking, inside a room where the window showed the public displays of affection your boyfriend was currently giving to your greatest rival. Your heart dropped and you felt cold everywhere.

Your hand moved to press against the door, but didn’t have the strength to open it all the way. The way her hands tangled into his black hair, her eyes looked into his as he smirked and kissed the corner of her lips, making her giggle and cover her face. You felt sick.

Nothing about this felt real, felt like the man you knew. Jess grabbed your shoulder and pulled your body into hers as your whole body trembled. The feeling in your chest felt like a crumpled piece of paper.

Your legs moved faster than your brain could process and you swung away, hiding in a hallway three floors down. Sliding over the orange glowing screens, you tapped until your found the number of your universe and opened the portal, hurrying through before anyone could see you, although you swore you heard someone call your name. Nothing mattered in that moment, you just needed to be alone and away from the rest of the society.

You refused to come to the society for days, avoiding anyone and everything in case someone tried to ask about what happened. A knock on your door broke your thoughts and you grabbed your phone, seeing all of the unread messages from your friends and Pedro.

His name glowed with a pink heart next to it and you hissed, throwing your phone across the room and watching the mirror crack down the center, shards splintering as your phone bounced onto the ground and landed face down. You covered your mouth in shock and sighed, then hearing the knocking on your front door persist, much to your discomfort. You got out of bed and padded through the dark, empty apartment. Peter B stood there in the door frame of your place, wearing a white shirt and sweatpants as you sniffled.

“Kid, I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around you before you could protest, and you sank into his embrace. The warmth was the most solace you’d had since the afternoon you found Pedro with her.

“Now I’m out here silent treatment, that means no permission,”

Peter sat with you as you gathered yourself, finally opening your phone to the many unread messages from Pedro, finally opening the walls of texts with heavy hands and cold blood.

“I should call him, tell him it’s over-”

A buzz made both your and Peter’s watches go off with an emergency alarm going off. What ironic timing.

“Think you can handle this right now?” Peter asked before opening the portal to the dimension you both were being summoned to.

“The distraction might help me put off talking to him, so yes.” You nodded before hitting a button and feeling the feeling of your suit taking form over your face. Following Peter, you saw red laser-like webs holding back the danger you assumed was an anomaly, to which you got straight to work and soared throughout the buildings beside you, webbing off the area from pedestrians who may get caught in the crossfire.

Peter swings to speak to Miguel while a blonde ponytail sways and catches your eye. Of course she was summoned, Miguel’s personal guard dog. You glared at her behind your mask and she just wiggled her fingers at you.

She knew.

You couldn’t get distracted now, as you saw a small boy trying to get past your barrier and jumped down to him, carrying him to safety before jumping back towards Peter and Miguel.

“What’s the plan?” You asked and Miguel swallowed thickly, not even sure if he could trust his voice to speak to you. “Hello? Earth to O’Hara!” You flailed your arms in a rushed motion before pushing both the men out of the way. He huffed as you fell into his chest from pushing him and he looked up.

“It’s got a weakness behind its neck to disarm the suit it’s using, but it’s not-” You moved before he could even stop speaking, and he ran to follow. “You can’t just jump into action!” He yelled and you shook your head.

“Get Peter to make a landing bed of some sort, find Little Miss Muffet and get her out of my way, and you need to find me a metal pipe or bat. I got this. Trust me?” You finished and he stopped in his tracks, looking to see what you were planning. It was a long shot, but he trusted you.

He followed your orders, instructing Peter to make a landing bed for you before grabbing the other spider woman and dragging her to where Peter was. “Help him, I’m going to find something.”

“Miggy-”

“Shut up.” He shot her a warning glance, signifying that now was not the time, and ran through the streets before finding a long, metal rod from the collapsing building next to the four of you. A portal opened above his head and he found another Spider jumping through.

“Am I too late?”

“Just in time, now go help Peter.” Miguel barked at Pedro and ran back to you. He called your name and as if in slow motion, threw the heavy metal to you.

You smoothly caught the metal rod thrown to you and swung around as the anomaly chased you before you purposefully dragged it in a circle, then smashing the rod against the small electrical panel on the back of its neck. You landed and stood beside Peter as you saw Pedro panting, then opening the portal to HQ and marching through. You wanted to get away from everyone as fast as possible, and HQ was the opposite of the space you needed. Your legs were trudging, not wanting to cooperate with your brain, but you knew you had to document what happened.

A hand grabbed your wrist as you entered sector 2 of HQ, trying to get to your office, but now stopped you. You turned to see Pedro staring at you with furrowed brows and concern creased by his mouth, by the lips you had let kiss you all over. Your mask disintegrated into your suit and you let tears fall down your cheek.

“You’re just like him.” You whispered and he looked down, gripping your arm hard enough to make you wince now.

“I’m nothing like him.” His voice was volatile and gave you a shiver of fear, unrecognizable to you. The Pedro you knew wasn’t dark and brooding like this, not like Miguel, and he wouldn’t hurt you. “That piece of shit, that cheating, lying son of a bitch, I would never hurt you like-“

“Let go.” You spoke up, voice cracking as you saw Peter walk through the portal now and step close to you both. Miguel and his ex-girlfriend followed, watching the scene intensely. “I said-”

“But you’re mine! My everything, mi corazon-” His hands moved to cup your face and you pushed him backwards.

“I saw you with her!” You shouted, putting space between you both. “You- You chose her, just like him!” You cried out, clutching your hands to your chest like you’d been shot in the ribs, holding your body as if trying to conceal the wound from the world. Afraid of everyone else seeing you cry, you hit a button to return your mask. You heard the tall blonde scoff from behind Pedro and saw her smirk, looking away, and your eyes snapped to stare at her incredulously.

Balling your fists, your eyes watered hidden behind red and blue technology before you got inhumanly angry. A roar ripped against your vocal chords as you lunged towards her, her spidersenses obviously not fast enough to protect her from your speed, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her to the ground with you. You slashed at her suit as she let out a scream and your vision became red with rage, then feeling large arms pull your form from hers. She crawled backwards, disheveled and out of breath from trying to hold you off, as you scratched and thrashed against the person holding you.

“Get yourself together, mi amor.” Miguel’s voice whispered in your ear and your whole body calmed, closing your eyes and drowning in his scent. “You’re better than this.”

“He cheated on me with her!” You sobbed, holding your eyes and cheeks as your body shook from the overwhelming sadness and emotions pouring from you. Peter stood beside Miguel and frowned at the girl on the ground a few feet from the group of you, seeing Pedro move to help her up.

“He…” Miguel frowned and held you closer to him, then shooting a deadly look at Pedro. “Stay away from her.”

“Don’t tell me what to do after what you did to her!” He barked at Miguel and the larger of the two sneered, like an angry pitbull.

“I told you to protect her, I told you not to hurt her, and you did exactly that!”

“What you put her through was worse.”

“This isn’t a competition.” Peter interjected and looked at each of them, then pulled you from Miguel’s arms. “While I don’t know what Miguel did, you both obviously hurt her enough, don’t you think?” Peter asked and Pedro immediately moved to take your hand again.

“Mi corazon-”

“Not yours!” You hissed and jerked your hand away. Peter opened a portal to your universe and walked with you through it.

Miguel stood as the three of them watched you leave in silence. Pedro slowly turned to Miguel and narrowed his eyes. “This is your fault.” He mumbled and Miguel raised a brow to him, confused. Where was this new side of Pedro coming from? This wasn’t the same warm smiled man who you walked hand in hand with around HQ, but he could say the same for the sunny spider woman currently sitting on the ground with scratch marks and bruises forming on her skin from your sudden assault.

“Excuse me?” Miguel replied, but the other man just shook his head and walked away, mask in a clenched fist by his side. Without another glance, Miguel walked away, feeling the weight of the past year on his shoulders.

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