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blackleatherjacketz · 11 months

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Mouthy

Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader

Summary: Miguel has been watching you, and is willing to do anything it takes to get you to join his team.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, NSFW, Explicit Smut, Teasing, Flirting, Kissing, Biting, Blood Drinking, Licking, Thigh Riding, Undressing, Voyeurism, Female Masturbation, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex

Word Count: 2.6k+

Read more of my MIGUEL stories!

You had been toying with Miguel all night, sparring with him until your sweaty session had resulted in swinging from rooftop to rooftop, leading his tour of your world to an end at the top of your apartment building. Three separate visits to your universe in the span of two months had led you to believe that he was getting desperate for help, or for something else. The first time he showed up was to help you battle one of the more formidable foes of your crime-fighting career, the second to ask you to join his group of heroes to fight off even bigger threats, and the third, well… you’re still trying to pin down.

If Miguel is anything, it’s persistent.

“Give up already?” He chides, denting the metal of the AC unit with his landing as you finally stop swinging.

“Who’s giving up?” You pull the mask off your sweaty face as his head piece disappears without a trace, revealing his gorgeous features and flowing raven locks.

“It’s only midnight,” he points to his watch as he walks toward you, those hips of his sauntering in a way that nearly hypnotizes you on the spot. “Plenty of other threats around the city to be squashed.”

“Then go squash them.” You challenge, tilting your head to look at him from another angle. Why can’t men in my universe look like him?

“You’d like that, huh?” He keeps advancing until he stops just short of you, his broad shoulders towering over you as a light breeze blows the smoky scent of his cologne into your nostrils. As if you hadn’t already committed it to memory. “If I did all the work?”

“Well, you can’t blame a lady for wanting to know if something’s worth her while.” You tease as he closes the space between you, backing you up against the rusted metal door of the stairwell. “Because if we’re being honest, Miguel, I’ve thought long and hard about it, and I’m perfectly fine here on my own.”

“I can see that.” His irises glow a fiery red against the white sclera of his eyes, searching your face for any hint of doubt or deceit. Your senses had been telling you that he wanted much more from you than just a teammate, the sound of his pulse quickening whenever he looked at you barely louder than the silence of his stilled breath. He wanted you… needed you almost as carnally as you needed him, and it was getting to be more difficult for either of you to ignore it.

“But don’t you want to be more than ‘just fine’?” He plants his palms against the brick structure behind you, his direct proximity tying a knot into your stomach as the night sky behind him somehow bleeds a passionate crimson hue. You can visibly see his intentions, actually feel the desire as it emanates out of his pores and into the hot summer air, drawing you in with its magnetic pull. “Don’t you want to be amazing?”

“I can tell that you do.” You smirk, prolonging your trance as you trace the bright red outline of the spider on his chest, watching it rise and fall faster with each word you speak. “Not everybody wants what you want, Miguel.”

“Is that so?” He leans in close, his full lips brushing against your ear as the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. “Is that why you moan my name at night every time I leave your world?” He slides his knee swiftly between your legs, gently lifting it up the crevice of your thighs until it rubs that sensitive spot between them.

“You’ve been watching me?” You knew that he’d been keeping tabs on you from whatever little hideout he had beyond your known universe, but you didn’t realize that he was paying that close attention to you. How much of your behavior had he actually witnessed? Was he speculating, hopeful, or had he actually watched while you slid your fingers beneath your underwear to satisfy that sudden urge his presence always seemed to evoke?

“You’re surprised?” He jeers confidently, his breath hot on your neck as he draws out a groan from your chest with another brush of his thigh, tapping into your natural moisture.

“That doesn’t really seem fair,” you start, eyes fluttering to catch glimpses of that scarlet sky phasing in and out of black and magenta as he continues to stimulate you. “You get to see all of me, but I don’t get to see any of you.”

You wonder just how far he took his viewings of you late at night; how many times he tuned into his recurring guest appearances in your imagination before you pleasured yourself into a dull, blissful slumber. Had he joined you in your handiwork, stroking himself in tandem, worlds apart, just in time to mutter your name with his release before the connection was lost? Or had he stayed tuned way past your loss of consciousness, hoping to hear some verbal confirmation of his presence even in your dreams?

“We can change that, you know.” He closes his eyes as you run your fingers through his hair, his thick lashes feathering over the shell of your ear as he presses a kiss into your neck.

“You’re gonna let me spy on you when you jerk off, too?” Your breath halts as he tastes the skin behind your ear and underneath your jawline, his teeth nipping at your pulse to make you pay for your quippy retort.

“Aye, cariño, are you always this mouthy?” He grabs onto your chin in a failed attempt to reign you in, the tips of his protracted claws nearly breaking your skin as he thrusts himself against you.

“You have no idea.”

—————————————

Miguel manages to stumble into your apartment with your legs wrapped around his waist, his clawed hands grasping at your thighs as they desperately cling to his hips. He pulls you up into him as he rounds the corner past your couch, his erection stretching the navy blue fabric of his suit as it grows harder against the drenched mound between your legs.

“You fucking taste like heaven, you know that?” He whispers through a dozen hungry kisses, the sharp sting to your skin and the iron of your blood flooding your senses as he bites down onto your bottom lip, wantonly sucking it into his mouth. That twinge of pain that would have hurt before you got your powers is nothing more than a scratch, a mere tickle as the warmth of his tongue soon counters it. He tugs and pulls every bit of flavor he can out of it, savoring each hint of salt and remnant of coffee on your tastebuds as he nearly gnaws your lip right off in the process, running into every wall along the way until he eventually reaches your bedroom.

“I thought you said those things were venomous.” You worry aloud, just now noticing their size and severity as he tosses you onto your bed with a lick of his lips.

“Only when I need them to be.” He grins and helps you peel your suit off your arms and torso, tugging it down past your hips and thighs before stepping out of his own spider suit with unmatchable ease. Eyes ravenous with lust, he watches you pull the last bit of stretchy cloth off your calves and feet, licking the tips of his fangs again as you toss your costume onto the floor.

“Well that’s lucky for me, then.” You sit up and press your knees into the mattress in order to get closer to him.

“Lucky for both of us.” He slides his thumbs beneath his boxer briefs and exposes what he’s working with, stealing the very breath from your lungs. Before you can comment on how big he is, before you can make a joke about how you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, he steps toward you and places his hand in the middle of your chest, pushing you flat onto your back.

“Touch yourself,” he instructs sternly.

“What?” Your brow furrows. Hasn’t he gotten enough of that through his viewfinder? Wasn’t that the whole point of him coming here in person? To actually touch you with his own hands and taste you with his own mouth? So that he didn’t have to just watch?

“I want you to touch yourself like you do when you think I’m not watching,” he reiterates, standing his ground as he resists the temptation to stroke himself, a single droplet of precum leaking from the tip of his cock.

“Oh. Okay.” You nod, his demanding tone of flattery quickly fueling your actions as it overpowers that inherent sense of stage fright nagging in the back of your head. “I can do that.”

You watch him hold his breath as you slide two fingers into your mouth, sucking on them as gratuitously as you can before pulling them out with a long trail of spit leading down your chin. His eyes follow your digits with rapt attention as you bring them down your body, their deep ruby hues darkening to burgundy as his pupils begin to dilate. You hear his breath hitch as you graze over your hardened nipples, snake your way down your navel and finally smooth them in between your soaking wet folds, exciting the sensitive neurons that have been begging for attention since the moment he arrived.

Doing as you’re told, you spread your juices up and down the length of your lips, catching a glimpse of his cock twitching against his stomach in anticipation, throbbing as you slowly pull upward on your clit. You can’t help but wonder how amazing he’s going to feel once he’s inside of you, your fingers barely able to do his length and girth any justice as you slide them inside your walls.

“That’s it, baby, just like that,” he finally exhales with a hint of a moan. He retracts his claws with a bite of his lip, cautiously touching your bare feet with the palms of his hands before slowly spreading your legs apart as he continues to watch you work. “Who knew your pussy’d be just as pretty as your face, huh?”

You huff in exasperation, too stunned to speak as his grin mimics your smile from the edge of the bed.

“You look even better from this angle, you know that?” Another lick of his lips spurns a trail of kisses onto the balls of your feet as he crawls between your legs, sucking little bruises into your calves and behind your knees; mementos for you to remember him by once he inevitably returns to his own world. You keep rubbing your bud up and down as he advances along your body; his lips, teeth and tongue massaging the skin of your inner thigh as waves of pleasure start building up into your core from both of your tantalizing efforts.

It isn’t long before he lifts your leg up over his shoulder, biting into your thigh once more before looking up at you with completely blackened eyes, your blood now staining his lips as it smears across his cheek. You moan as he takes his time lapping up the scarlet fluid as it mixes with his saliva, dripping down between your crevices as his mouth gets that much closer to your needy center.

Without a word of warning, he grabs onto your wrist and carefully pulls your fingers out of your swollen heat before encircling them with his lips. Those charcoal eyes of his roll back into his head, a deep guttural groan vibrating around your fingers as his tongue surrounds them, the savory flavor of your blood now blending in with the sweet tanginess of your sex. You push them in even further past his blood-stained lips, shivering in arousal as he sucks all the way down to your knuckles, making a sloppy show of licking them clean before finally drawing them out.

“Not so mouthy anymore, huh?” He asks, kissing the palm of your hand before lifting it up and placing your wet fingers into his hair.

“Uh-uh,” you whisper, the heat from his breath sending phantom pulses of bliss up through your spine, leaving you practically speechless.

“Then let’s see if I can get you to make some noise.” He licks a stripe up the length of your folds, choosing not to use his fangs on your most sensitive area as he focuses solely on tasting your raw flesh. He groans into your skin as he licks you up and down, inhaling your pheromonal scent as if your very essence is the only thing capable of sustaining him any further.

Your eyelids fall shut as you allow a few breathy moans to escape your lips, his tongue saturating every receptor you have with such an intense euphoria that it forces your hips to buck up into his mouth. Your grip on his onyx locks tightens as he continues to suck on your clit, pulling it taut into his mouth just like he had with your bottom lip, persistently eating you out like a man starved for days.

“See how good you are at following my orders?” He stops licking you just as you’re on the brink of ecstasy, a thin ring of red now glowing around the rims of his irises. “I just need you to do one more thing for me.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” You barely have the capacity to ask, your muscles vibrating beneath him with the promise of release that he so quickly took away from you.

His full lips curl into a smirk as he licks your bud one last time, kissing his way up your belly and breasts before reaching your neck, his cock needily bobbing between your legs until it slides inside you without ceremony. You gasp as his girth fills you up with impeccable ease, your slick walls welcoming his thick throbbing member, clenching down around him as he gently thrusts up into you.

“Miguel!” You shout in a stifled whisper, stars shining in your eyes as the tip of his cock hits that bundle of nerves he’s been teasing all night.

“Come for me,” he growls against your throat, all traces of that controlled man fading away as he pins your wrists to the mattress before bottoming out completely, rutting into you repeatedly like a wild animal.

“Mmm hmm!” Your moans echo off the walls in your bedroom as he drives himself further inside your heat, ricocheting off your nightstand and ceiling fan until they dissipate into the air above you, falling down like raindrops as they cover you both. His hips only quicken their steady pace the deeper he gets, sending hit after hit of white hot bliss up into your core until your body can no longer take it.

That wave of pleasure you’re so used to delivering yourself nearly takes you out completely as it washes over every inch of you from the inside out. It paints every cell in your skin, muscles and bones all the colors of the rainbow under Miguel’s hypnotic thrusts, his sweat dripping down onto you in tiny translucent beads before melting into your skin. Both of you phase in and out a variety of shades and patterns as you wrap your legs around his hips, drawing him in to make sure he feels the heightened state of nirvana he’s finally brought you to.

“I can feel you falling apart around me, cariño,” he whispers into your shoulder, thrusting one last time as hard as he can as he twitches and spasms inside you. Lavender paisleys, red and white stripes, olive and orange checkers all slowly fade away to a calm light blue before he pulls out and eventually lets go of your wrists. “You sure you don’t want to join my team?”

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099

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pucksandpower · 2 months

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To the Moon and Back

Lando Norris x astronaut!Reader

Summary: not many people can say “I love you to the moon and back” literally … but you’re the exception

Based on this request

Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves 🫶

The roar of the engine echoes through the car as Lando revs the McLaren 720S Spider. You glance over at your boyfriend and can’t help but smile. His eyes are bright with excitement beneath his helmet.

“You ready for this, love?” He asks, giving your hand a quick squeeze.

You nod, adrenaline already pumping through your veins. “Let’s do it.”

As an astronaut, you’re no stranger to G-force. But taking a hot lap around the race track with Lando is a different kind of thrill. The track marshall gives a thumbs up and Lando eases the car out of the pit lane. He takes it easy for the first few turns, warming up the tires.

“How’s it feel?” He asks.

“Smooth,” you reply. “Can’t even tell we’re going 200.”

Lando grins. “Oh just wait.”

He floors it down the back straight, pinning you back against the seat as the speedometer climbs towards 320 kilometers per hour. The G-force builds as he brakes hard into the next corner, expertly controlling the slide.

You let out an exhilarated whoop. “Now that’s more like it!”

Lando chuckles. “Barely getting started, babe.”

The next few laps are a blur of adrenaline and speed. Lando dances the McLaren through the corners, braking impossibly late before powering out in a controlled slide. You relish the forces pressing you back into your seat, so similar yet so different from a rocket launch.

As you pull back into the pits, crowds of fans erupt into cheers. Lando parks the car and hops out, pausing to take off his helmet and run a hand through his curly hair before coming over to help you out.

“So, what did the astronaut think?” He asks with a playful grin.

You’re still catching your breath, heart pounding. "That was insane! What a rush."

Lando looks pleased, keeping an arm wrapped around you as you’re swarmed by fans seeking autographs and photos. Most want a moment with their favorite driver, but a few recognize you as well.

“She’s the astronaut girlfriend, right?” Someone asks.

You nod, giving a little wave. “Yep, that’s me!”

The fans seem impressed that you were able to handle Lando’s hot lap so easily.

“Wow, you took those Gs no problem!” A teenage girl remarks.

You laugh. “Well, I have some practice from launch and re-entry.”

“You must be fearless to be an astronaut,” adds an awe-struck boy.

“It’s intense for sure,” you agree. “But so rewarding.”

Lando smiles proudly, giving you an affectionate squeeze. “My girl’s a badass. Takes a lot more than some high-G corners to phase her!”

You laugh and pose for a few more photos before Lando regrettably has to head in to prep for free practice. After a quick kiss goodbye, you wander through the bustling paddock, enjoying the infectious excitement in the air on race day.

You’ve just grabbed a water bottle when you hear rapid footsteps behind you.

“Y/N, wait up!”

Turning, you see Lando’s performance coach approaching. He gives you a polite smile. “Got a minute?”

You nod. “For you, always. What’s up?”

He falls into step beside you. “I wanted to run something by you. Lando seems distracted lately during training and physio. Have you noticed anything off with him?”

You frown, thinking back over the last few weeks. Now that he mentions it, Lando has seemed a little distant at times.

“I have noticed he’s been quieter than usual,” you admit. “But I figured it was just nerves or fatigue going into the season.”

Jon nods thoughtfully. “Could be. I know he really wants to impress this year. But as his girlfriend, I thought maybe you’d have a better sense of if anything else is on his mind.”

“I’ll try to talk to him,” you promise.

“Appreciate it,” Jon says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

You part ways and head out to the pit wall to watch the start of the race. But your mind is only partially on the action, thoughts preoccupied with concern for Lando. He’s normally so upbeat and energetic, but thinking back, you realize there has been a muted quality to him lately that is unusual. You wrack your brain trying to pinpoint if there was a specific incident that triggered this change, but come up empty.

After the podium, you pull Lando. “P3! What a freaking drive," you give him a quick kiss.

His eyes brighten momentarily. “Thanks, love. Feels good to start the season off strong.”

You study his face, wishing you could read his thoughts. “So … can we talk later? Maybe grab dinner in the city before heading back to the hotel?”

Lando shrugs. "Sure, I guess so."

You frown slightly. His response is lacking his normal enthusiasm. But the paddock is too crowded to dive deeper now. “Great, it’s a date!” You say brightly, taking his hand as you both head out to spray champagne. You’ll get to the bottom of this tonight.

After a flurry of post-race obligations, the two of you finally slip away to a quiet restaurant downtown. When the waiter steps away with your orders, you reach across the table to take Lando’s hand.

“So, what’s really going on?” You ask gently. “And don’t say nothing. Everyone can tell something’s been off lately.”

Lando sighs, avoiding your eyes. He runs his free hand through his curls. “It’s stupid, really …”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “If it’s bothering you this much, it’s not stupid. Talk to me, babe.”

He’s quiet for a long moment before responding softly. “I’m worried I don’t deserve you.”

You rock back slightly, caught off guard. “What? Where is this coming from?”

Lando keeps his gaze down. “It’s just … you’re this badass astronaut. You literally go to space! And I’m just a guy who drives cars in circles.”

Your heart aches for the vulnerability in his voice. You give his hand another supportive squeeze. “Lando, you’re so much more than that. Yes, I love space. But racing is your passion and you’re incredible at it. You bring joy to so many people. That matters.”

‘I know, but …” Lando trails off uncertainly.

You lean forward, gently tipping his chin up. “No buts. You deserve the world. I’m the lucky one here.”

He finally meets your eyes. “Really?” The doubt is clear on his face.

“Really,” you confirm. “I fell for you, Lando. Not your job or your fame. Your kindness, your humor, your giant heart … that’s what I love.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “When you put it like that …”

“It’s the truth,” you say firmly.

Lando lets out a long breath, his shoulders dropping as the tension eases. “I’ve been in my own head about this for weeks. Should have just talked to you sooner.”

“Well, you have me now,” you remind him. “No more keeping worries bottled up, deal?”

“Deal,” he agrees, lifting your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how amazing you are?”

You laugh. “It’s always nice to hear.” Your heart swells with happiness to see the sparkle back in his eyes.

Just then your food arrives, and Lando insists you try a bite of his pasta. The conversation flows easily again as you trade stories and banter. With the worry lifted from his shoulders, Lando’s charm and humor are on full display. By the time you meander hand in hand back to the hotel, the moon is high in the sky.

Lando pauses outside your door. “Thank you for tonight. And just … for everything. You’re my whole world.”

“I love you to the moon and back.” You gaze at him adoringly for a moment before adding, “Now, I believe a celebration is in order for that podium today …”

You open the door and pull him inside by his collar as he laughs. As you kiss him deeply, you make a silent promise to always be the safe space he can turn to when doubts creep in.

You’re the luckiest girl in the world to be loved by this incredible man. And you plan to spend every day proving he’s worthy of the same boundless love … to the moon and back.

***

You take a deep breath as you stare out the small window of the shuttle, watching the Earth get smaller and smaller as you ascend into the sky.

This is it. Your first mission to the moon.

You’ve dreamed of this moment since you were a little girl, gazing up at the glowing orb in the night sky and imagining yourself walking across its cratered surface.

As an astronaut with NASA, you’ve completed years of intense training to prepare yourself mentally and physically for the rigors of space travel. But nothing can fully ready you for the surge of emotions that hits you now as your childhood fantasy becomes reality.

Excitement.

Awe.

A twinge of nervousness.

And above all, gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity to push the boundaries of human exploration. To boldly go where only a handful of people have gone before.

You think of Lando. How his eyes lit up when you got the call informing you that you had been selected for this mission. How he immediately started planning a big celebratory dinner, inviting all your friends and family. How he held you tight before you left for quarantine and launch preparations, whispering “I’m so proud of you” and “I love you to the moon and back.”

Your relationship with Lando has always been anchored in mutual love, trust and encouragement. As a Formula 1 driver, he understands the demands and dangers of your job, the laser focus it requires. When he races, you’re trackside or glued to the TV, cheering him on. When it’s your turn to take the spotlight, he’s equally in your corner, hyping you up and telling anyone who’ll listen that his girl is an astronaut headed to space.

You chuckle thinking back to when you first met Lando at an Engineering for the Next Generation event. Him in his McLaren gear, standing out like a beacon in bright papaya. You in your crisp blue flight suit, NASA insignia shining. Sparks didn’t just fly, they erupted into fireworks.

Fast forward five years and here you both are, thriving in your dream careers, happily together and each other’s biggest fans.

Your daydreaming is interrupted by the voice of the commander crackling over your headset. “Prepare for trans-lunar injection burn.”

It’s time.

You watch attentively as the burn commences, adjusting the shuttle’s trajectory until you’ve escaped Earth’s gravity and are hurtling towards the moon.

The next few days pass in a blur of course corrections, equipment checks, meals, sleep, and anticipation. Then finally, the moment arrives. You feel the shuttle tremble as the engines fire, slowing you down until you achieve lunar orbit insertion.

For the first time, you’re gazing upon the entirety of the moon’s pockmarked surface rather than just a slice of it in the night sky. It’s simultaneously familiar and foreign, a world both near and far.

“We are go for powered descent,” comes the voice of Mission Control. The shuttle shudders as the lander separates, ferrying you and your crewmates down to the awaiting surface. Through the window you watch the grey, dusty terrain rise up to meet you. A perfect landing kicks up plumes of powder.

You’ve arrived.

Stepping outside in your bulky space suit, you marvel at the stark beauty surrounding you. The pitch black sky, dotted more vividly with blazing stars than you could have ever imagined. The rolling plains and hills in muted grays. The unfiltered rays of the sun overhead. And above all, the profoundly silence, unlike anything you’ve experienced on noisy Earth.

You bend down and scoop up some lunar soil, letting it sift through your gloved fingers.

The next two days pass swiftly, filled with collecting samples, setting up experiments, and traversing the alien landscape. Too soon, it’s time to depart. As the shuttle lifts off in a spray of dust, you take one last look at the moon’s cratered face, etching it into your memory.

Returning to Earth, you’re met with great fanfare. Lando wraps you in an enormous bear hug, his relief and elation at having you home safe and sound is infectious. “I’ve missed you so much! Can’t wait to hear all about it,” he holds you tight and refuses to let go.

At the dinner he’s arranged, surrounded by your closest friends and family, you regale everyone with stories about your lunar experience.

Walking in spaces so silent your own heartbeat sounded thunderous. The inexplicable lightness in your limbs from the reduced gravity. Seeing Earth hover above the horizon, a blue and white marble in the void. The sense of wonder at walking upon a heavenly sphere humans have gazed upon for millennia but few have ever touched.

“I’ve always loved you to the moon and back,” you tell Lando, taking his hand. “Now I can say I’ve literally loved you to the moon and back.”

You see his eyes widen as you pull out a small pouch and tip glittering gray dust into his palm — a moon rock. “A little piece of the moon, just for you,” you close his fingers around it.

Lando is momentarily speechless, touched beyond words by your gesture. Then a grin spreads across his face. “You are simply out of this world,” he laughs. “This is going in my trophy case for sure!”

Over the next year, Lando has the moon rock fashioned into a ring, which he wears on race days for good luck. Sure enough, he scores his first ever victory that season, a thrilling achievement after years of near misses and podium finishes.

Standing on top of the podium, Lando whoops and thrusts his trophy high. Then he gazes straight into your eyes and says words meant only for you. “This one’s for the person who has always loved me to the moon and back.”

You beam with joy, pride surging through you. In that moment, all the years of supporting each other through the highs and lows to follow your passions feel profoundly worth it. Because at the end of the day, whether it’s launching into space or racing on Earth, you’re always each other’s biggest fans, connected by a love deeper than any distance — even 768,800 kilometers to the moon and back.

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miguelhugger2099 · 2 months

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Hello sweetie, hoping you're doing well! What about bully punk Miguel and nerd pastel girl reader at college? (Miguel with 23 and reader with 21) Like reader was ugly and will have a glow up thanks to MJ and now Miguel tries to have her attention, they have a date and sweet and fluff smut!! (reader is virgin uwu) I'll let to you the creativity

Impurities

hello sweetheart you absolute DARLING i genuinely could be better but i hope ur doing great. i want to apologize for taking so long but i want u to know when i saw this i just about melted bc punk miguel is one of my guilty pleasures i adore him so much. this ask made me want to evolve it into a series i had like several different ways to make this but ahhhh i hope it's alright

Punk!Miguel x Pastel!Reader, Fluff and Smut, Word Count: 8,875 Art by: beawoodward on artstation !

You knew you weren’t the most appealing girl out there. You weren’t about to delude yourself otherwise. You knew what people said about you, how they looked at you. Your face could’ve been worse. Maybe some bushy eyebrows? You dressed…maybe a little different than most people. While the world was covered in grays and black, you opted out by showering yourself in the cutest pastel colors. You didn’t keep up with the trends and instead followed whatever you thought looked alright. It often led to some mismatching and awkward outfits but you didn’t think so! You entered campus with a light blue and pink striped pants with a pink belt and a baby blue sweater. Two low braids tied with white ribbons at the end and your white framed glasses on the bridge of your nose. Skincare was confusing to you so all you really did was wash your face with a harsh cleanser and hoped for the best which gave you some acne instead–making you pop them and leave some scars. You tried makeup but it just looked cakey so you settled with a messy and often uneven eyeliner. Regardless of your outfit, whether in a skirt or in pants, you were always decked out in some bright pastel colors and hair done in the same two braids. You held yourself close while walking around the halls, already used to people staring and calling you names from high school. College was a little more merciful, the whispers being just as loud but at least they’d never bully you to your face. You win some, you lose some. Your self-esteem had been damaged to the point of no return anyway, so any attempts of trying to prove you’re worth something would just be a pipe dream in your eyes. That’s why you push your glasses up and cling to your shoulder bag tightly in your fist as you pass by the usual group of boys to get to the front seat of your class. Your human biology class door was opened at the back so you’d have to pass the back seats to sit at the front. As usual, the group of boys were basically monochrome except for the little specks of red or blue if they ever decided to add color. But what was most noticeable about them was the so-called leader of said group. Unofficial–official– leader Miguel O’Hara, the senior who decided to take general education classes in his last year before graduating. His usual confident and toothy grin was on display, silver spider bites that his, also pierced, tongue would often play with. His big and heavy platform boots would rest on the chair beside him while his left elbow rested on the table, his hand combing through his long brown hair–shaved at the sides, mind you. He made sure to push his fringe back so everyone could see his double eyebrow and nostril piercing. Miguel’s hands were decorated with rings, big and small and his nails were short and painted black with some of it chipping off. His usual leather jacket with pins and patches, stretched and tight from his muscular build, was accompanied by a low red tank top with a spider symbol on the front. Black skinny jeans and a spiked belt that did little to actually keep his pants in place since the black and red band of his boxers were showing.

He listened mindlessly to his group of friends as they talked with each other, his fingers switching between playing with the dangling earring on his earlobe to his industrial bar. His crimson eyes glanced up when he saw you in your uncomfortably bright and awkward fashion sense. His friend tapped his shoulder and jutted his chin out to you before whispering something in Miguel’s ear that made him shove him away with a smile. Then they both laughed as quietly as possible, chuckling at what you decided to wear today: light blue overall shorts and a pastel yellow undershirt with white knee high stockings and white sneakers, your usual white ribbons at the end of your braids.

You usually sat alone at the front, placing your earbuds in to listen to music while you waited for the professor. Despite being at the front, you could still hear some faint chuckling and words being whispered from Miguel's group.

Still, you held your head up, taking out your notebook and expensive textbook. Clicking your pen, you began some light note taking before class started.

You sighed as you entered back in your dorm, dumping your bag at the door and kicking off your shoes. You faceplated down onto your bed while your roommate MJ looked over at you sympathetically.

You turn your head, cheek squished against the mattress. “I know that beauty is subjective and I'm not supposed to earn validation from anybody else but…” You sit up and rest on your legs, hands wringing in your hands with furrowed eyebrows.

“But…I want to feel pretty.” You admit softly, ashamed since you felt like you were betraying yourself.

MJ's smile grows and she eagerly jumps from her bed to kneel at your bedside. She takes your hands in hers and squeezes them reassuringly.

“You are pretty,” She insists. “But if you really want help, I can.” MJ tilts your head to look at her, a soft smile on her face.

You nod. “I do. I just want to know how to look like you.”

MJ shakes her head. “No. No, you already have your own beauty.” She places a hand on her chest. “I meant that I can help enhance it. No change to your core is necessary.” She pokes at your chest playfully and you both giggle together.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You take a moment to look at her. MJ really was perfect–shiny straight red hair, clear skin that was painted with freckles and a winning white smile. You hoped she could work some magic on you.

“Okay.”

Your transformation didn't happen overnight. It took at least a few weeks for it all to come together.

MJ had dragged you to salons to get your hair properly taken care of. Gotten your eyebrows plucked, eyelashes lifted, an effective skincare routine–that you struggled to drill into your regular schedule–and a new wardrobe that still held your pastel look, just a little more flattering. She even helped you get some contact lenses so you wouldn’t need your glasses all the time! To tie it all together, you two spent nights practicing how to do your makeup that wouldn't look so wobbly and uneven. Each day, you improved yourself. Your tacky overalls changed into fitted jeans or flowy skirts. Your baggy shirts were now cute tops that hugged each curve. Tennis shoes into heels or cute sneakers and your hair came to life with a beautiful shine; your white ribbon still in your hair.

One day, you entered class like normal. Except there were very few whispers this time, almost nonexistent. Still, you don’t let it get to you and continue like normal–walking to the front of the class and sitting in your usual spot. What wasn’t normal was a figure coming up beside you and pulling out the chair next to you. Miguel slipped beside you in front of the class, tilting his head as he stared at your side profile. You tried not to react but you subconsciously glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

“Hey.” He smirked, his eyebrow raising and his lips curling.

“Hello.” You murmured back, opening your notebook to the next blank page.

“New look?” He asked, using his hand to brush your hair back off your shoulder and you stiffened. He noticed you still had the white ribbon at the back of your head. Miguel’s eyes glanced back down at your body. Nicely fitted flare baby blue jeans, a cute pastel green heart belt with a crop top white sweater.

“Looks good.” He purred. You held your blue bunny pen in your hand tightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t understand why he was speaking to you. He hadn’t before–other than laugh at you–so what gives?

“Thanks.” You say curtly. Miguel places a hand over her heart in feign hurt.

“Don’t be like that, nena. You look so cute, I didn’t expect you to be so cold.” He teased. He crossed his arms and rested his head on them to look up at you while you wrote the rest of your notes down before class started. Miguel watched as your false eyelashes fluttered, making your eyes look bigger. The subtle blush on your cheeks and the concealer that hid most of your past acne. He could still see some of the scars which makes him huff a small laugh at how cute it kinda looks. Your lips were more plump than he remembered–a soft pink to them. He lifts his arm up to rest his cheek on his fist, his eyes still on you. “How about I take you out?” Your pen slips and leaves a slash right down your notes. “What?” “A date. Does that sound good?” You don’t look up, instead focusing on your task at hand. “No. Can you please just leave me alone?” Miguel doesn’t say anything else but you hear the chair he sat on scrape across the floor as he gets up abruptly. You hear the laughter of his friends behind you and Miguel snapping at them. Your shoulders hunch over–the natural instinct to hide from embarrassment overcoming you again.

Every week, in the same class, Miguel would try again and again and again to ask you out. Each time, you would decline. It had gotten bad enough where he changed his seat to move beside you, offering his help when he saw you were confused and overall just trying to get on your good side. You wanted to be strong, truly you did, but it was becoming too much. When Miguel had asked again, you sighed loudly and faced him. “If I say yes will you leave me alone?” Miguel broke into a wide smile. Once you finally agreed to a date with him, you truly weren’t expecting anything good. So you stood by the place Miguel wanted you to meet him at: a local diner that was pleasantly pretty looking from the outside. Still, due to your past experiences of being ghosted and stood up, you watched the time on your phone. You decided that you wouldn’t wait more than fifteen minutes max.

To your surprise, you didn’t have to wait at all. You heard Miguel call your name from your left, his lips curled into a confident smile. Subconsciously, you eyed him up and down. He had baggy black cargo pants, accompanied with chains on his right side. A DIY-ed t-shirt that was sprayed painted over many many times. Of course, his iconic leather jacket was littered with various pins and patches. When he was close enough, you saw just a bit of eyeliner surrounding his eyes; and a new septum piercing. For the people passing by, it was quite a sight to see. Compared to Miguel’s dark but proud aura, you emanated a more sweet and bright vibe. MJ had helped you pick out an outfit, excited that you approached her with the dilemma of going on a date. You wore a sheer baby blue crop top cardigan with a simple white tank top underneath. A slightly darker blue pleated skirt with white thigh high stockings and ankle strap baby blue platform pumps. You held a small purse in your hands and looked up at him through your lashes. Your hair was pinned in a half up and half down hairstyle; your white ribbon at the back of your head. You thought it was a bit much, but MJ assured you that it was just enough. “Te ves muy hermosa.” Miguel speaks up, a grin on his lips. “All for me?” He teases with a tilt of his head. A piece of his fringe falling over his forehead. “Oh, please.” You look off to the side, ignoring the flutter in your chest when called beautiful. Miguel doesn’t take it to heart, instead going past you to open the door of the diner. He dramatically takes a bow, his arm ushering you inside. The theatrics make the corner of your lips quirk up and you enter inside, nodding to Miguel. You turn your head around to see the inside, wooden chairs and tables, a jukebox at the back with a shiny bar. “This way.” You stiffen when you feel Miguel’s breath by your ear. Before you could turn, he places his hand on your lower back and leads you to a booth by the window. He sits across from you, menus at the ready on the table. “You know, I used to come to this place all the time.” Miguel says, his eyes scanning the different options. “Used to be a hangout spot for me and the others in high school. College took up my time so it’s a pain in the ass not being able to visit more.” You glance up at him, shuffling in your seat. It felt a little weird to have him speak to you like this, as if he wasn’t teasing you a few months ago.

Luckily, a waitress comes up before you two with a notepad in hand. “Oh! A pretty girl! Didn’t know you were back in the dating scene.” She cackles to herself and pushes her glasses up. Miguel groans and rolls his eyes. “I thought you didn’t work Fridays, Lyla.” “Margo couldn’t make it, I needed extra hours–and now a bonus– I get to embarrass you. Everybody wins! Except you maybe. Waddaya want?” Lyla rests on one foot, her grin plastered on her face. Miguel’s smile was long gone, now snapping his order at his friend. You watched with an amused smile. They bantered like siblings. But what she said piqued your interest. He hadn’t gone around dating? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Miguel call your name. His eyes were uncharacteristically soft. “Do you need another minute?” He asks. You stumble over your words and feel your cheeks burn. “No-no, uhm…” You look down at your menu and pick the first thing you see. “The, uh, chicken fajitas, please?” Lyla meets you with a smile and collects your menu. “Of course, darling.” She turns to take Miguel’s menu. “Couldn’t you have taken her to a nicer place? She’s all dolled up.” Lyla sticks her tongue out at him and walks away while Miguel’s cheeks burn red. Instead of facing you, he looks down at his hands and he picks at his black nail polish.

For once, Miguel had stayed silent. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked a little ashamed? Embarrassed? You could see him moving his spider bites nervously as he stares at anything besides you, his cheeks still tinged red. You pat your skirt awkwardly and clear your throat. “The…I like the diner. It’s got one of those retro vibes to it. It’s cool.” You give a small encouraging smile. For some strange reason, you thought his quietness didn’t suit him. Miguel’s eyes dart to yours and then at the window. “You think?” His hand reaches up to play with his dangling earring. It was almost cute. Just a bit. You chuckle softly. “Yeah, I mean. It’s like being in one of those time machines.” Miguel smiles. “Time machines? I think a time machine would look cooler than this dump.” You playfully smack his hand across the table. “Didn’t you say you used to come here years ago? Don’t call it a dump.” You fold your arms on your chest. You didn’t know this, but Miguel in that moment felt the tension he didn’t realize he had fell off his shoulders. “Eh, it’s a little bit of a dump.” He leans back and stretches his arm on the backseat. “But it’s like you said: a little retro.” Lyla returns with two glasses of water. “One for the cutie,” she places one on your side, giving you a wink. “And then Miguel.” She unenthusiastically hands Miguel the cup.

Miguel frowns at Lyla, a familiar bubble of jealousy brewing in his chest. “Lyla.” He warns. “What?” She stretches out the word. “Just being a good hostess.” She huffs with a pout and walks away. You giggle to yourself and Miguel notices. He’s quick to speak. “Ignore her. She’s always trying to be annoying.” He didn’t like the way Lyla was buttering you up, even if it was just a joke. He wanted you to smile at him like that. “It’s funny. I never thought I’d see you looking so bothered. How do you know her?” You smile and take a sip from your water. Miguel scratches the back of his head. “Middle school. We were in the robotics club.” You blink. “Robotics club? Really?” “Why’re you so surprised? What? A guy like me can’t be into things like that?” He smirks, placing his arms on the table and his pins rattle as he moves. “Well…kind of?” You smile weakly and laugh when Miguel pretends to be hit. “No, but seriously, robotics isn’t what I expected from you.” “Well, it was middle school. I’ve grown up into a man. This time I’ve taken an interest in being a geneticist.” He rests his head on his hand. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, nena.” He teases but you pause. That phrase is a little ironic for him to say, you thought to yourself. Shaking off that feeling, you continued to chat with Miguel. Talking about your interests, past, future and current studies. All while Miguel would try to sneak little touches, whether it be his boot tapping your heel or his hand brushing against yours when handing you a bottle of ketchup. After spending enough time at the diner, the sun was beginning to set. Before you left, Lyla convinced you to convince Miguel to give her a big tip and told you she hopes to see you again in different circumstances. Miguel holds the door open for you again and the bell dings your departure from the diner. His fingertips gently brush against yours, catching your attention.

“There’s…there’s this other place I wanna show you.” He bites his lip, peeling off the skin. His index finger loosely wraps around your pinky. “Sure…” You say hesitantly. He notices your hesitance. “It’s nearby. Just for a little bit and I’ll take you home.” The wind breezes through, giving you a glimpse of the cool air that will befall once nighttime arrives. You shiver and tuck into yourself to hide from the wind. Miguel takes off his jacket and slips it around you. Feeling the heavy material on your shoulders, you look up at him and feel the warmth go around your torso. Miguel’s eyes are focused on making sure it’s snug as it can be. It’s so large that it ends around your midthigh. He takes your little purse and pops the collar of his jacket up. “Put your arms through the sleeves so it doesn’t fall.” You blink and do as he says with a flustered expression. While shuffling your arms through the holes, you try not to glance over at him. His t-shirt was cut at the sleeves that showed off his toned arms. Despite the cold approaching, he seemed to be relaxed as he watched you, making sure you stayed warm. “Good?” He asked. Your fingers barely poked out, his jacket covering most of your outfit. And it was warm. It smelled like him.

With a satisfied smile, he slyly takes your hand in his and leads you away. You try not to focus too hard on the way his hand engulfs yours. After following Miguel in twists and turns, you eventually walk up a hill and at the very top stood a single bench with a view of the entirety of Nueva York. Your eyes widened and you let go of his hand to approach near the ledge, placing your hands on the railing. The lights of the city illuminated the night sky and acted as stars. You saw them twinkle along with hover cars that zoomed past you. “This is…” “Where I planned to take you another day. But Lyla pissed me off and I wanted to prove that I could take you somewhere nice.” He comes behind you and slings an arm around your waist. You look up at him with an amused smile. “Did you really take that to heart?” Miguel pouts his lips, his eyes looking off to the side. “I couldn’t let her make me look stupid in front of you.” You laugh, using the sleeves of his jacket to cover your smile. Miguel sees and he has a faint smile of his own on his face. He leads you back to the bench where you two sit in quiet comfortable silence after an afternoon of learning about one another. As you look over at the city with him, you couldn’t help but notice the nagging feeling in your chest. This was a date. A date that only happened because you changed yourself. A date with the person who laughed at you.

“Hey, Miguel?” You speak up quietly. He hums and looks over at you. “I…I don’t want you to be nice to me just because I got a little…prettier.” Miguel looks down at you with a frown. He stuffs his hands in his pockets while he looks back at the skyline. He says your name softly to grab your attention. “I’m not being nice just because you’re pretty.” You scrunch your eyebrows and scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure all those times you laughed at me was just you being a charmer.” “Laugh at you?” He raises his eyebrows and you look away. “Nena, I wasn’t laughing at you.” “Don’t lie to me, Miguel. I’m used to it. No use in sparing my feelings.” You sigh. “But I wasn’t,” He insists. He wants to reach for your hand, to touch you but he stops himself. “Really, I was…admiring you.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re really being a jerk. There was nothing to admire when I looked…stupid and ugly.” “You did not.” He turned you to face him by turning your chin softly. “So you’re saying the way I looked before wasn’t stupid?” You glare at him but Miguel can’t find it in him to take it badly. “You were cute. The way you dressed and looked, it was awkward–sure–but it was adorable.” He chuckles but your frown deepens, feeling the tears bubble up in your eyes as you turn away from him. Miguel calls your name again. “I’m the last person to judge anyone for how they dress. Look at me.” Miguel flicks his multiple ear piercings, pulls on his snake bites, stretches his tattered and ruined t-shirt and slams his dirty platform boots to the ground. “A freak. You were just a cuter version.” “Then why did you talk to me now?” You murmur.

“Because you suddenly changed. I wanted to know what was up.” “And…the sudden date?” “Your transformation gave me the courage to speak to you. It was my chance–an excuse to talk to you.” Miguel says softly. “Though you did reject me twelve times. I was starting to lose hope.” “It was not twelve times.” “It felt like twelve times.” “...You have to admit that I’m…much more appealing now than I was before.” Miguel sighs. “Nena, the only thing different about you is clear skin and some clothes. Everything else is still you. You were pretty underneath, you just enhanced it. At your core, you’re still you. Bright and colorful.” He bumps your shoulder. You smile shyly and look in your lap. “MJ said something similar.” “MJ?” “My roommate. She helped me with, y’know, everything.” It was still hard to believe. Over two decades of being told otherwise was not going to go away by a single conversation but it still warmed your heart to hear something positive about you for once. You don’t say anything else and Miguel takes his chance to wrap his arm around you, bringing you to his chest. With flushed cheeks, you look out into the open where the skyline is feeling at peace and just a little pretty.

You two had arrived at your dorm and you faced Miguel shyly. Your eyes looked at the ground as you felt your cheeks heat up. “This is my place.” You state and Miguel chuckles, the sound of it sending your heart pumping. “I see that.” He says, taking a step toward you which makes you take a step back. “I had fun.” You whisper softly, your eyes landing on his chest. You see Miguel’s hand lift up to your chin and make you look into his eyes. Your cheeks burn since he keeps his hand on your chin to make sure you wouldn’t look away. “Me too.” He murmured, his red eyes looking like they turned a darker shade when he glanced at your lips. He takes another step towards you and you take another step back. You feel your head hit the door and realize you’re now trapped between it and him.

You hold your breath and can only feel the pounding of your heart in your chest and Miguel’s calloused fingers holding you still. Miguel then uses his other hand to hold your hip, his thumb trying to slide under your tank top. Your hands raise up to hold onto his biceps, shivering when your skin meets his. He was warm. “I…kind of don’t want this to end.” You admit softly. Miguel’s grin grows wider, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek which makes you weak in the knees. “Then it doesn’t have to, muñequita.” His hand leaves your chin to cup your cheek. He glances up above your head. “Your roommate home?” He asks. Your eyes never leave his face, your pupils dilating and a weird feeling starting to brew in your stomach. “No,” You squeak out and he looks back down at you. “She’s–She’s, um, out with her boyfriend.” Miguel hums, another glance to your lips. “Then…will you invite me inside?” He asks, leaning down so his lips just barely graze yours. Not quite a kiss yet. Your breath hitches and you nod a few times before speaking. “Mhm, okay.” You reach your hand behind you to grab the doorknob and twist it open. You stumble backwards but Miguel quickly wraps his arm that was on your hip around your waist. He then makes you walk backwards while he could shut the door behind him. You had your arms around his neck and looked up with wide eyes and a fast paced heartbeat. Miguel huffs out a chuckle. “You okay?” “Mhm!” You squeak. He squints down at you in playful suspicion but brushes it off. He bends down to where his lips brush yours again and finally dips low enough to kiss you. Your first shared kiss. You stumble with how to kiss, especially when the other person has piercings, but with someone like Miguel, you quickly learn and get the hang of it. Soft kissing noises sound between the small space of you two and he gradually moves from your lips to your cheek and down your neck. His arms around your waist tug you closer, bending you back and he moves you further back to where your calves hit the mattress of your bed. One hand rises up to pull his leather jacket off your shoulder, gently nibbling across your skin before reverting back to your throat. With his lips on your neck, Miguel could feel your pulse going wild, heartbeat going crazy each second. He decides to check in. “You okay?” he murmurs with a smile, his lips finding yours again for quick kisses. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve just–” kiss “Just–” kiss “Y’know, never–” kiss, kiss “Done this before.” He pauses, stiffening before he pulls back. “Wait. Are you saying this would be your first time…having sex?” Your heart sinks. That was bad wasn’t it? “No, it’s not bad.” Miguel shakes his head. You didn’t realize you voiced your concerns. “I’m just surprised, is all. Usually people have done it already.” You look away from him, visibly uncomfortable that he’s lowkey making fun of you. Miguel realizes the damage and quickly tries to fix it. “But there’s nothing wrong with it, nena! I didn’t mean–” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. He looks around your dorm room. Your side is filled with cute things like plushies and fluffy blankets–a strawberry duvet all in the same hue of pastels.

“Look. We don’t have to do anything. I don’t…want to make it seem like I’m only here for that.” He shrugs his leather jacket back on your shoulder. “Because I do like you, nena. I’m willing to wait or if you never want it then it’s whatever. I just would really like a second date at least. Maybe at a nicer place like what Lyla said. Maybe I could clean myself up.” He gives you a weary smile. You stare at his hands that hold onto the zipper part of his leather jacket. For a while, you don’t say anything. “What if I don’t want to wait.” You mumble. You look up with some determination on your face. “I…I want to. With you.” Miguel takes his hands off you. “Wh–Are…are you sure?” You slip his jacket off you and let it fall to the side, stripping off the first piece of clothing from yourself. Your mouth is tight, heart hammering in your chest and cheeks feeling that familiar prick of heat up your neck but you’re sure of yourself. You want this. Miguel rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand before him. “Alright.” He breathes out, undeniably attracted to you at this moment. “But this will all be at your pace, okay? I’ll make you feel good.” He purrs resting his hands at your hips and your facade crumbles slowly and you get shy again. He sits you down on your bed and he kneels before you, his hands on your thighs. He takes your right foot in his hands and carefully unbuckles the ankle strap of your pumps and slides it off. You cover your mouth, heart pounding at the intimate yet innocent act of him taking off your heels. He does the same with your other heel and sets it to the side.

Miguel then looks up at you from his lashes, his confident ones meeting your bashful ones. Taking your right leg again, he slips your thigh high stocking off you and does the same for your other leg. He places his hands on your knees and slowly spreads your legs apart to give you time to stop him. You don’t. “Come closer, mami.” He murmurs, sliding his hands up to grip the flesh of your thighs. You let out a weak mewl and scoot closer to the edge of your bed. Miguel bunches your skirt up, groaning and feeling his cock twitch in his pants when his eyes land on your pastel pink panties, a sweet little bow in the middle like you were a present for him. “Tan bella,” He murmurs, unable to hide the utter desire he has for you. You cover your face in embarrassment as he spreads your legs wider. His lips graze over your thighs, pressing kisses as he makes his way up. You feel your heart skip a beat everytime you feel his warm breath. Your hands clutch your strawberry sheets and he notices.

“You can hold onto me, mami.” He purrs and you swallow the lump in your throat.

“Wha…how do I..?” You feel stupid, your hands raising up and unsure of where exactly to put them. Miguel takes your hands and places him in his hair. His fingers curl around yours so you could grip onto his strands.

Feeling your face burn, the sight of you holding onto him while his eyes bore into yours. You instinctively clench your fists, his hair being tugged on in the process which makes him groan and close in his eyes. He likes a bit of pain, it seems

Miguel's hands return to your thighs, wrapping his arms underneath to tug you closer to his awaiting mouth and to keep your legs apart. “Hips up, mama.” He purrs and you do as he says, making him slip your panties off.

He discards them off to the side and delves between your thighs. His nose nudges your nub and you gasp, pursing your lips and gripping tighter on his hair.

“Miguel!” You whimper and he hums in response. You feel the metal ball of his tongue piercing curl inside you–it was strangely pleasurable. You didn’t expect it to feel so good. You rest on one hand behind you, the other still planted in his hair as you bucked forward on his tongue. Miguel the munch that he is, grins against your folds and licks a long stripe up before spitting and devouring your sweet nectar again. You felt the sudden slimy wetness hit your nerves and you yelped in surprise. Just as quick, you fall into submission when his skilled tongue swirled in little number eights. Your eyes were closed shut, your hand pulling Miguel closer to which he obliged. He then surprises you by sticking one of his thick fingers inside you. “Oh my…god.” You moan, your body growing hot and sweaty underneath all your clothing. “Miguel…” Miguel’s mouth moves in rhythm, his lips kissing your pussy as he drinks whatever your sweet cunt offers him. He could stay like this forever, cleaning your mess up and licking you for all eternity. His rings nudge your folds, the metal a stark contrast from his rough fingers. He pumps a second finger inside and it’s a bit of a stretch that feels good enough for you to thrust harder. “Mmm, yes…oh, I’m so close…” You mumble to yourself, chest heaving as you come closer and closer to climax. Unexpectedly, Miguel pulls away from between your legs. The pleasure being ripped from you and you struggle to lift your head as he pulls off you. The look in his eyes is different. More lustful, more hungry.

“If you’re gonna cum, I want you cumming around my cock.” He groans and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Miguel stands up and gets into bed with you, shoving his platform shoes and pants off. While he gets on top, you rest back into your bed and your eyes become big and wide–darting between his face and between his legs. “Is it–will it hurt?” You bring your hands to your chest, clutching the fabric of your tank top. Miguel lifts your chin up to him. His eyes are kind and soft. “It’s not supposed to. I’ll make sure it won’t.” He grabs the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your legs, throwing it with the other forgotten clothes. His hands make his way up your body, helping you remove the sheer cardigan and sliding your tank top up and over your head. Miguel chuckles at the heart patterned bra you wore. He leans over to kiss your neck and you sigh. The feeling of his lips sucking and tongue licking you was surprisingly pleasurable. Instinctively, your reach around his shoulders to hold onto him, your back arching to be chest to chest with him. Miguel’s hands go under your back, holding you up while he quickly unclasps the bra. Feeling the loss of your support, you whine but Miguel kisses you before you become louder. He places you back down on your back and finally removes the last piece of clothing. Miguel admires you from above, his hands at your waist, rubbing up and down your sides as he feels your curves. “Perfecta. Eres mucha mujer.” He whispers while trailing his lips along your collarbone. You whimper, feeling your cheeks burn and grow hot to the touch. His breath ghosts over your breasts and he stares up at you maintaining eye contact. Miguel notices something in your hair; your white ribbon, still tied in your messy hair. His heart swells and smiles, reaching up to brush your hair away.

He kisses down the valley of your breasts and around your nipple. He glances up at you every so often to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of discomfort. He can feel your heart pounding underneath his palm. Miguel wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks softly. You gasp and hold your breath for a moment while his cold tongue piercing swirled around your nipple, his spider bites and nose piercing pressed against the softness of your tits. You stare up at the ceiling as the warmth in your body flooded down to your core. “Oh! M..Miguel…” You whined, your hands curling in his hair where you felt most comfortable. Miguel flicks his finger around your other nipple, pulling and bullying it until it becomes erect and perky. Even then, he twists it and gropes your tit in time with his sucking and biting. Your hips buck up, feeling your pussy throbbing uncomfortably. When you hit his bulge, Miguel moaned and grinded himself to your soaked pussy in soft circles. Your juices left a stain on his boxers in your desperate attempts at relief. He lets go of your tits–leaving a small bite mark– and continues to kiss down your body. “Gracias a Dios por mandarme esta belleza.” He murmurs, digging his hands into the plush of your hips when he raises your thighs up. Suddenly, he stops and lets go of you. “Shit, shit, fuck–hold on.” He mumbles and gets off you. You feel cold and watch as he gets off the bed and picks up his pants from the floor and searches through his pockets. “Did I…do something?” You ask, worried you might’ve done something that made Miguel regret touching you. He shakes his head. “No, no–just–ah, there it is…” He chuckles to himself after finding his wallet and pulling out a small square packet. He pushes his fringe back with one hand as he gets back into bed. Miguel shuffles down his boxers after putting the packet between his teeth. “I’ll get you pregnant some other time.” “What?” “What?” You close your mouth and hear ringing in your ears. You were sure that steam would be coming out of your head at this point–your mind felt like mush with how easily flustered he made you. Miguel looks down at you and huffs a small laugh, letting you know he was joking. Maybe. Hopefully.

His cock springs free once his boxers are off and he groans when it slaps his stomach, leaving a bead of his precum on his tip. Your eyes shamelessly stare at him. You were by no means an expert when it came to sex but you grew both worried and aroused at how massive he was. “There is…no way it’s gonna fit.” Miguel rips the plastic with his teeth and rolls the condom on his dick to the base. For a moment, you’re disappointed that he added protection. Just for a moment, though. He breathes out and gives soft strokes to his shaft while looking at you from beneath him. He feels his cock pulse and throb, growing harder by the second just by the sight of your perfectly sculpted naked body. He thought you were divine. Placing his hands on either side of your head, he leans down to kiss you as if trying to ease your worries. “It’ll fit, I promise. It’ll feel so good, too.” He whispers, his lips brushing against yours. “I’ll go slow.” He takes one hand to lift your thigh up just enough to give him space to rub his cock between your wet folds. “Miguel…!” You gasp while you feel just how hard he was. He shushes you. “I know, nena. Look what you do to me. Feel what you did to me.” He buries himself in your neck, nipping at your skin and you tilt your head back. More of your arousal soaks his cock, creating wet sounds while you grind on each other and Miguel shudders. He bites into your shoulder and fights against his instinct to shove his cock inside and fuck you into your own mattress. Miguel kisses the spot he bit, his breathing labored and heavy. “Tell me if it hurts, mama, okay?” You nod, your eyes screwed shut. “Uh-huh…” Slowly, Miguel looks down and makes sure his tip splits your folds apart as he enters inside you. Your breath hitches and you tighten your arms around his neck. “Miguel!” You whine while he penetrates you. He kisses your temple and stops when only his tip is inside you.

“You’re doing great, nena. No te preocupes, lo estás haciendo bien.” He reassures you with a shaky voice. It’s clear he’s holding back. You whimper apologies and Miguel kisses across your cheeks to try and return your focus on him instead of the new stretch you’re feeling. He praises you in a mix of Spanish and English–ones you can barely hear. He moves his hand down between your legs and gently rubs your clit with your thumb in hopes of loosening you up. With the added stimulation, you moan and hide in his neck with your eyes shut. You weakly thrust up, feeling a bit of relief and allowing Miguel to push further in. “Good, good,” He purrs. “Just like that, mama. Just let me in.” He groans and hisses when you clench around him. Miguel’s thumb switches between a fast and slow pace, sliding in his cock easily until you cry out and dig your nails into his skin, leaving small crescent shapes. “Stop, stop–” You whimper. “I’ll pull out–It’s okay–” “No!” You keep him close to you. “No, I just–I need a minute.” You sniffle, your body slowly adjusting around his girth. Miguel nods and pulls back enough to meet your eyes. “Okay. Okay, whatever you need. At your pace, remember?” He rests his forehead against yours. You open your eyes to see his cheeks flushed, a bit of sweat running down his temple and he shakes with every breath. Despite his current state of desire, he’s putting you first–he’s putting your comfort first. “Thank you.” You whine softly. Miguel huffs, leaning down to kiss the corner of your eyes. “Don’t thank me for that, nena. Never.” Miguel continues to pamper you with kisses, murmuring about how beautiful you are, how well you’re taking him, how he can’t get enough of you. He nuzzles into your neck, rolling lazily over your clit and does gentle thrusts of whatever you were able to handle. After a few moments, you grab his attention by running your hands through his hair, fingernails scratching over his shaved parts. “Okay…more, please.” He lifts himself up and holds your hips with both his hands. His thumbs caress your hip bones as he pushes himself deeper. You moan and tilt your head back, biting your lip as the combination of pain and pleasure hits your stomach and through every nerve in your body. It felt like forever until he reached the hilt, the light smack of his balls hitting your pussy. Miguel smiles. “Good girl,” he licks his lips. “Mirame.” Your head tilts back down to see both of you finally connected. “Holy shit…” You whisper, the sight making you clench. Miguel moans and grips your hips tighter, his head falling forward as he takes a deep breath. “Fuck, don’t tighten around me like that.” “Sorry!” You squeak and he chuckles. He raises his head back up, hair falling in front of his face and a lazy smile on his face that shows his fangs–his piercings glinting in the dim moonlight. “Don’t be. It’s just, you feel so fucking good–you’ll make me cum.”

You cover your face and resist the urge to scream. The heat emanating from your face made you sweaty. Miguel takes your wrists and pins them to the side of your head. He cocks a pierced eyebrow up with a smirk. It softens when he sees just how flushed your expression is. “‘m gonna move, okay?” You gulp and give him the green light. Miguel looks down and slowly pulls out, watching your slick drench his condom covered cock. “Jesus…” He groans under his breath. He looks back up to see if there’s any sign of discomfort on your end but he’s met with your eyes glued between your legs as well. Your eyebrows are scrunched up in pleasure, mouth agape with shallow breaths while you watch him slowly ease out of you. Miguel’s eyes darken with lust and he pushes back in once his tip was kissing your heat. He watches as you roll your head back, your eyes rolling behind your skull when you felt his cock filling you up again. “Oh my God…” You moan. “Miguel…” Miguel’s heart jumps and his hands tighten around your wrists. Still, he’s careful. For a few minutes, Miguel continues his slow thrusting. He pulls out sweet moans and whimpers from you, getting you used to his massive size and stretching your cunt out to the shape of him. His tip nudges against your cervix and you jump which makes him grin. After those few minutes, you began writhing underneath him. The pain had subsided and now this soft stroking was sweet but it wasn’t doing anything for you anymore. Your hands clenched and unclenched into fists.

“Miguel, Mig–more,” You begged. “Faster.” “You sure?” He slows to a stop and you furrow your eyebrows in annoyance which he doesn’t notice. He’s about to ask again after your lack of response when you lock your ankles around his waist, shoving him back inside you. You and Miguel moan in unison, Miguel nearly falling on top of you if he didn’t catch himself by resting on his elbows by your head. His breath fanned your face and he looked down into your eyes with a heavy blush. “More.” You moan and Miguel quickly goes to work. He leans on one elbow and places his other hand down to your hip to start picking up his pace. Miguel attaches his lips to your chest, biting the plump flesh of your tits before taking your nipple in his mouth once again. Your hands go around his back, your nails raking down his spine that leave red streaks. He pushes himself further against you, folding you in half while he increases his speed, abusing your pussy by slamming his cock in and out of you. Your squealing and moaning becomes music to Miguel’s ears. He groans and licks his tongue around your nipple, lapping it back in his mouth to suck on it. His nails dig into your waist while the sound of skin slapping signaling just how desperate he is to fill you with his cock. “Atta girl,” He moans after moving up to your neck with wet open mouthed kisses. “Knew you could take all of me. Knew you would sound so pretty crying all over my cock.” He smirks, looking up to see your eyes rolled back, tears brimming your eyes in ecstasy instead of pain this time. Your pussy spasms around him as you whimper.

“Mig–Mig–” You babble mindlessly. The only thing on your mind is Miguel, Miguel and Miguel. “So–so good…” You slur, vision going hazy while the lust clouded your mind. Miguel’s ego inflates, his dick twitching inside you. Even with a condom he could still feel your pussy contract around him, your warm walls sucking him in deeper. Your hips wiggle and buck weakly to match his thrusts but ultimately Miguel does all the work, sending your mind spinning while he practically fucks all your thoughts, fears, and insecurities from your brain—turning you into a dumb cock-drunk mess. Through the haze, you can hear your juices sloppily smacking between you and Miguel–an erotic sound of wet plaps, his balls becoming slick and sticky with your arousal. “God, you feel so good,” He moans, hips stuttering. “It’s like your cunt is just begging for my cum. You want it? Huh? This tight little pussy gonna milk me dry?” He quickened his pace, humping against you in fast short thrusts. You scratch his back, multiple lines of red marking his skin while your toes curl. “Yes, please, please, please–I wanna,” You babble through gasps. “It’s so good–I wanna cum–Don’t stop…!” Your voice becomes high pitched, your hips lifting to grind yourself on him. The both of you fucking one another exactly like horny college kids. Miguel growls, nipping at your neck to add more hickeys to your body. “Never. Holy shit–you’re so fucking sexy,” He cuts himself off with a groan, his sweaty forehead falling to your shoulder while he humps you. “Never letting you go. This pussy is mine.” His thumb finds your clit again, his fingers slowly being drenched with your messy juices that had spread all around your labia, smearing around your pussy with the help of Miguel’s unstable thrusting. His cold rings bumped against your hot skin, the difference in temperature becoming another factor in your raw lust. Your screams of pleasure bounced off the walls. “C’mon pretty girl. Cum for me. I know you’re close.” He pants in your ear.

“Mig–gy!” You choke out, eyes squinted in ecstasy as Miguel helps you reach your climax. It wasn’t anything you’ve experienced before. White hot numbing pleasure waving through your body as you spasmed. Your orgasm shook your entire body and you clutched onto him tightly, your legs keeping him near, nails finding purchase in his back and arching your breasts up to his chest, nipples sensitive to the touch. Miguel followed right after: rubbing your clit faster and his balls ached with a tightness before releasing his seed into the condom, his cock twitching as it spurts out his cum. He moans loudly, his body shivering and shaking along with you but he still helps you come down from the high, pumping weakly as he empties himself. Your body falls limp, head lolled back while Miguel breaths heavily. He pulls out as gently as you can but your virgin cunt wasn’t used to such stimulation, each inch back caressed your sensitive nerves up until he finally left with a pop. Miguel’s hands shook as he took off the condom, body now covered in cold sweat now that the heat of the momentum was gone. He stumbled off your bed and tied the condom shut then dumped it in the small bin in your dorm room. He slipped back in your bed beside you, smiling to himself when you took deep breaths with your eyes closed. “Hey, you alright?” He asks with a soft wheeze. “Huh?” You barely heard him over the heartbeat pounding in your head. The blood flow goes through your body normally once again. “Hm? Oh. Mhm. Yeah.” Miguel chuckles, resting on one elbow with his cheek in his palm and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. “Yeah? You were amazing.”

“Really?” You try to look up at him through the exhaustion in your eyes. Who knew sex could take all your energy? Miguel grabs your folded fuzzy blanket and unravels it to drape it on top of you two. “Really. I’m honored to be your first.” You blush at the reminder that you hadn’t had sex before and the reminder that you were no longer a virgin. You stare at his face while his hands caress your cheeks, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck right under your jawline. “Do you really like me?” You find yourself asking him. Miguel’s hand stops moving and he looks surprised. “Yeah,” He confirms gently. “I wouldn’t fuck you if I didn’t. I don’t have sex with just anyone.” He pulls your cheek. You frown and pout at him. “I'm serious!” Miguel chuckles. “I know, I know.” He tilts your chin up with his index finger and leans down to kiss you sweetly for a quick peck. He knows what’s really on your mind. “My pretty girl.” He hums as he stares down at you to admire the afterglow of your orgasm. “All mine. My pretty girl.” He dunks his head down to your chest, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in his embrace and snuggles you.

Your heart flutters. Pretty. It hits you then that Miguel really does think you’re pretty. You feel his ear piercings against your chest and the rings on his fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. His fingers find your white ribbon, crumpled under you and he twirls it around his ring finger. You struggle to hold back your smile as you hug him back, nuzzling your nose in his hair and falling asleep with the comfort of knowing someone genuinely finds you beautiful, inside and out.

a/n: im sorry i wasnt normal i just love a good trope and punk miguel i cant help but make him cute

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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lacedinweb22 · 7 months

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Good Kitty 🐾 ୨୧⋆｡ Miguel O'Hara x Black Cat (reader)

Spidey catches Kitty. nsfw 18+

you don’t have to misbehave to get my attention, Kitty

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“I had that!” you shout, chasing after Miguel.

“No, Kitty, you didn’t. That’s why I stepped in,” he looks down at his watch and storms through the portal.

It shrinks as you sprint for it. By the time you catch up to HQ, he’s on his platform and you’re looking up at him. He’s deactivated his mask; you can see his dark curls even from this distance. You pull your mask off and catch your breath.

“Stop following me like a stray,” he growls, his back turned to you.

“Stop butting in! I didn’t need your saving,” you yell up at him, unable to reach him without webs.

He growls lowly, “Mentirosa,” he throws some steel prototype across the room. “You did need my saving, Y/N. Who knows what would’ve happened if I hadn’t showed up when I did!”

“How’d you even know where— have you been watching me?”

“No importa.”

“You fucking creep,” you yell. “I knew it, I knew it,” you slide your hands up and down your suit, searching for the slightest raise in the fabric.

“Where’s the tracker, Miguel?”

He scoffs and continues swiping along his orange screen, ignoring you.

“Where’s the fucking tracker?”

“I’m. Not. Telling. You!”

“I’ve had enough; that’s it. I’m leaving. I’m taking a break from whatever this is. Figure it out on your own, Spider-Ass.”

You head for the door, when suddenly, your wrist is tugged back. You look down at your right hand, red web wraps around your wrist, your eyes follow it up to Miguel.

“Gatita… stay.”

You sigh and turn around.

“You know you worry me, Y/N. That’s all. I’m not trying to suffocate you, just … keep you safe,” he mutters, jumping down. He walks over to you, following the web he latched to you.

He approaches you, towering over you, intimidating you.

You unsheathe your claws, raising your hand up for him to see. You’re not threatened.

“You’re not the only one with claws, Spidey.”

“I know that, Kitty,” he sighs, pushing your hair out of your face.

You drop all fingers but one in front of his face, then fiercely cut the web he has tied to your wrist.

He looks down at you, his firm poker face unimpressed. He knows how to provoke you.

“I stayed. Now … say you need me,” you purr, pouting up at him.

“I need you… your help I mean,” he mutters, shrugging.

You sigh, “You’ll never admit it, will you?... What’s a girl gotta do, hm?” You lightly drag your claws delicately down his cheek and to his chin.

“Maybe stop getting into so much trouble,” he mutters.

You soften your touch, putting your claws away, allowing just your fingertips to trace his skin.

He leans into your touch, sighing.

“Hmmm, can’t make any promises,” you sigh, turning around towards the exit.

He shoots a web at your wrist, again. You stop in your tracks and exhale.

“Mig,” you sigh, cutting it in one swipe, “stop,” you say, walking towards the exit.

He shoots again, you cut again. Then again, and again, until you can’t keep up and you’re left standing with both of your wrists successfully attached to the floor, red strands of webbing holding you in place. You hear him getting closer.

You laugh nervously, yanking both of your hands to no avail. He’s got you pinned down.

“Fuck,” you breathe out through a smile.

He growls behind you, moving your hair back with his claws so he can graze his fangs along your neck.

“Miguel,” you say, breathlessly.

“Y/N,” he says, in between the kisses he plants on your skin.

He finally stands in front of you, towering over you. He grabs your chin softly, tilting you up to look at him.

“Finally caught you, gatita. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy,” you breathe out.

“Busy getting into trouble. Mmm, you don’t have to misbehave to get my attention, Kitty,” he smirks, leaning into your face.

“I wasn’t misbehaving, I was trying to help you. I’ve been a good girl as of late, of course you wouldn’t see that,” you hiss, yanking at the web.

He bends down into your neck, his hot breath sending chills down your spine. His curls tickle your cheeks; they smell like pear. You inhale his scent, as his warm lips drag along your neck, gently sucking.

You wish so badly you could run your fingers through his curls, or scratch your claws down his back.

“Miguel,” you ask nicely, “can you free my hands?”

“Y/N,” he mimics, “can you be quiet?” he whispers between kisses.

His lips finally find their way up to yours. His fangs gently bite into your bottom lip before he presses his soft lips into yours.

Your knees weaken, you lean forward into his chest. He holds you up, his hands on your waist.

One hand traces down your stomach, his fingertips dragging closer and closer to the heat between your legs. He finally hits your sweet spot through your suit. He rubs circles into you, his massive fingers gentle on you, painfully slow.

He leans his face down closer to you. His fangs brush against your skin before slowly biting into your neck, pain and pleasure causing a sensory overload.

Your gasps grow into moans as your head hangs low onto his shoulder.

“What’s wrong, gatita?” he asks, condescendingly.

You groan, muffled into his suit.

He lifts your chin, his maroon eyes locking onto yours.

“Eyes on me, chula,” he demands before pressing his lips into yours.

He pulls away, stroking your hair as he continues rubbing into you.

You close your eyes then force them open to find him watching you moan.

“Good girl,” he mutters, before kneeling down and pressing his face into your lap.

You watch as he drags his claws down your suit, exposing your panties.

“That’s the third suit this month,” you groan, throwing your head back.

“Guess I’ll have to design you one with a zipper,” he mutters before lowering your underwear down to your thighs and planting kisses around your heat.

He hums into you, finally surrounding your bud with his warm lips. His tongue and upper lip envelope you, wet and buzzing friction building you up inside.

He pries your thighs open, his tongue dragging your slick down from your center up to your bundle of nerves.

He tastes you, “Tan mojada para mí, tan comportada para mí,” so wet for me, so behaved for me.

He presses his thumb against your bud, then slowly slides his long middle finger into you, stretching you out. He slowly thrusts in and out, his thumb still rubbing circles into you.

He looks up at you, watching you burn with pleasure.

“Can you take another one for me, gatita? Can you be a good girl for me?”

You nod, humming as you watch him enjoy you writhe under his touch.

He slides a second digit into you, slowly curling into you, hitting a sweet spot deep inside. You moan out, your walls tight around his big, strong fingers.

You squeeze the red webs tight, focused on the pleasure he’s creating inside you.

He glues his lips back onto your heat, continuing to fuck you with his fingers, building rhythm and tension inside you.

You moan out his name, thighs closing against his cheeks.

He rests his unoccupied big hand on the back of your thigh, pulling you into him, creating more pressure.

He looks up at you smirking, getting off on how vocal you are, how hot and bothered he’s made you.

His cheeks are pink, his face sweaty, lips glossy with your slick. He continues humming and sucking on you, muttering cuss words when he pulls away to look up at you.

“So good, Mig, like that,” you moan, gripping onto the webs for support.

“Yeah? You like that?” he breathes out, pressing his nose against you.

The pleasure tenses up in your stomach, spreading across your thighs, signaling you’re reaching your peak.

“Good kitty,” he groans, his voice low, vibrating against your wet heat.

“Such a good girl for me, Y/N. You gonna cum like a good girl for me?” he asks, curling his fingers into you, slow and steady.

You breathe out in between moans, “Mhm, just keep going like that, Mig, like that, I’m gonna…” before collapsing in whines.

You throb around his fingers, your thighs closing in around him, as you struggle to stand up straight.

He lets you finish, lapping at your slick, and kissing around the mess he’s made.

He then slowly pulls his fingers out, before licking them clean, sucking your slick off.

He wraps his hands around your waist, holding you up effortlessly, supporting your weight while he continues lapping, cleaning you up as he hums gently.

You lean forward, your hair in your face, sweat glazing your skin.

Still on his knees, Miguel slowly pulls your underwear up then stands up in front of you, his eyes meeting yours as he towers over you.

He brushes your hair out of your face then finally cuts the webs, freeing you.

You swipe the web residue off of your hands, then shove him, “Fucking asshole,” you breathe out.

You crack your knuckles, he returns to you, grabbing both of your hands in his. He kisses your fingers slowly, seductively.

“But I made it up to you,” he grumbles, his fangs visible in his smirk.

You roll your eyes then wrap your arms around his neck, combing your claws through his curls, lightly tugging at the soft strands.

He embraces you, then leans down into your kiss, his tongue softly stroking yours, allowing you to taste yourself. You moan in each other's mouths before he pulls away, his tone deep as he whispers,

“Good Kitty.”

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cyberstrm · 11 months

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spiderpeople + how affectionate they are

cws: none!

spider punk is allegedly 17ish so i included him,, age him up if you need to !! didn't include miles, gwen and pavitr because 15/16 is too young for my comfort

HOBIE is privately super affectionate. likes to leave you lil post-it note notes and doodles. sends sappy texts. makes you playlists and writes songs about you. writes your name on his guitar and probably somewhere on his suit. keeps everything you give him. not a huge pda guy because he's too busy being punk, but a huge softy and cuddler when you're alone. more of an actions>words guy. probable height different makes kisses so much more fun.

MIGUEL is bad at being affectionate and getting attached at first. he learns quickly that it's something you need, and gets better at it. very gentle with you, doesn't want to hurt you. loves to pin you against a wall and kiss you. uses his size to his advantage; loves to carry you. loves to hold you, to protect you, to make you feel safe. whispers soft nothings to you to make you feel as loved as you truly are.

PETER B is the most affectionate man ever. sends sappy good morning texts. brings you breakfast in bed. takes care of you. big into PDA, hand holding, kissing, all of that. buys you flowers. plays with your hair. lets you decide what to watch on tv. biggest big spoon. house husband who helps out with the chores. big into forehead kisses and a hand at your lower back. takes you out to dinner. never forgets a special occasion.

#spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #x reader #x you #hobie brown #hobie brown x y/n #peter b parker x you #miguel o'hara x reader #peter b parker x reader #hobie brown x reader #imagine #drabble #oscar isaac

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belphieslavenderscentedpillow · 26 days

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Dating things with the obey me boys and Solomon

HeYy, this ones a little shorter than usual, sorry! and holy crap thank you for 40 followers! Y‘all are so sweet💋

These are small things you and the obey me boys do in your relationship! It’s kind of like small drabble ideas, but I hope you enjoy!

Lucifer

when he stays up late to work you bring him that sleep tea (yk the one he threatened you with) and then drag him to his bed while he‘s fast asleep

The next morning he‘s had an amazing nights rest and he doesn’t even know what happened

You like putting your cold hands under his shirt, or on his arm because this demon is always warm

You bought him one of those cheap candy necklaces as a joke but he wears it everywhere, everyday- he looks so happy wearing it too, even though it’s subtle

Mammon

You guys make each other handcrafted jewellery

He keeps all of it in a special box where he saves all the stuff you give him

Always when he holds your hands he intertwines his fingers with yours because it gives him reassurance that you won’t just disappear (coughhhh nightbringer)

In the morning you two literally brush your teeth while the other one is showering or something, and you list all the things you need to do today while he adds; „don’t forget to see me at my gig“ or „we also need to go shopping“; literally just some excuse to spend time with you

Leviathan

He‘s got a literal book of all your likes and dislikes, going from food to games, and always when he finds out something new, he scribbles it inside;

On a random Tuesday he pushes a gift box in your hand with something you really wanted without you even asking for it! Cutie

You make sure he gets his nutrients, so everytime he’s caught in a gaming session, you bring him food and spoonfeed him

He used to get really flustered but you do it so often he git used to it; just imagine:

„Fuck! Leronzo theres a huge spider right there! You have to destroy it!“ , Levi shouts, he slightly turns his head towards you, opens his mouth and lets you feed him, chews and starts shouting again.

Satan

You make him bookmarks that he doesn’t use, but instead he hangs them on his wall (or window) so that he can gaze at them

You probably style him, so that his outfits have a little bit of drip (sorry for that) and ever since then he looks wayyyyy more attractive

You guys name cats that you see on the street

Everytime you guys go on dates and you wear heels, you say that your feet hurt

So he made a habit of carrying you over his shoulder (like a sack), his hand around your legs, the other hand carrying your heels

Bonus points; if you’re wearing a shorter dress or skirt he puts his jacket around your legs first before carrying you- what a gentleman 🤭

Asmodeus

No matter how busy you are, every friday you guys have a spa date in his bathroom where you gossip and talk

Every time he has a new design idea he goes to you and shows you his work, because he trusts you the most obvi

Always when he does his makeup he lets you apply his lipstick because he likes the focused look on your face when you concentrate on his lips and his lips only

It‘s become a habit for him to randomly go into your room with news and just talk in the doorframe before leaving again-

Beelzebub

You guys have your own personal menu for almost every restaurant you frequent; in it you write the the name of a dish and put stars next to it, rating how much you like it with an additional picture with how it looks like

Every time he works out, he calls you to sit on his back while you do your own thing, and then he does his set of like 2000 push ups

When you go shopping he literally just holds all of your bags without complaining- and when you ask how you look in literally any outfit he says; „you look beautifu“l, EVERY SINGLE TIME

Belphegor

You made a habit of clipping back his really soft hair in some really girly pin while he sleeps because you think he looks cute

He always knows that you clip back his hair so always when he wakes up he saves the pins in a box, looking at it when he feels lonely

I‘m pretty sure Belphies actually a romantic, so every month he plans a super cheesy date for you guys, and he‘ll dress up all handsome and excitedly show you what he planned 😭

Super random but you two have matching pjs and matching socks- the pjs are like farm house animals and so are the socks-

Every time you can’t fall asleep he reads a fairytale to you and he actually changes the character voices

Solomon

You two 100% fight like a married couple, insulting each other, but when some third party person does it you guys give them the biggest glare ever

„You‘re such an idiot Solomon!“ you tell him after he explodes another potion. „Yeah Solomon, you’re an idiot!“ some random demon says, and suddenly you turn around towards them and give them the bitchiest glare ever.

You guys have really cheesy nicknames for each other as a joke; so he calls you scrumptious honeybun and you call him your sweet gum drop

You guys have so many inside jokes

Every time you guys say it, you start laughing histerically and everyone else is just like: 😟❓

Proofread!

All credits go to @belphieslavenderscentedpillow

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #obey me x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me solomon x mc #obey me solomon #obey me swd #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie #obey me belphagor x reader

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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 months

Text

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."

🌹🌹🌹

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

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liliacamethyst · 5 months

Text

Sneak Peak Part V - Web of Eternal Dawn

“Drop the child, Miguel.” the figure warns.

With an unimpressed raise of his brow, Miguel retorts, “Go home, Miles.”

Gabriel, now more settled, looks up at Miguel with adoring eyes, already halfway back to sleep. But Miles’ persistent voice booms through the little room. "Miguel, step the fuck back from the baby, and let's settle this outside. NOW."

"Kid, this isn't a fight you wanna fight," Miguel warns, gently lowering the now sleeping Gabriel back into his crib.

But just as the situation seems to have reached a tense standoff, the door bursts open, revealing you, fully clad in your spider-suit, ready to fight, fury painted on every feature. Flashbacks of the past, filled with anger, pain, and fear, cloud your vision upon seeing Miguel bending over your son.

"Sunny, I can explain—" Miguel starts, but your reaction is swift. With a well-aimed web, you pin him to the nearby wall, rendering him immobile. Miles, clearly taken aback by your rapid response, stammers, “He... uh... was trying to... take Gabriel again. I saw it?”

Miguel's eyes, though pinned, glitter dangerously. “Cut the crap, kid.”

You had heard enough, and you fired webs at his mouth, silencing him. Standing tall, you demand, “What the hell is going on?”

Your heart hammers against your ribcage, an overpowering nausea threatening to bring you to your knees. Not again, you beg internally, this can't be happening again. The biting sensation of deja vu feels like a punch to the gut.

As if reading your panic, Miles lifts his hands in a placating gesture, but your focus narrows solely on your sleeping baby, peacefully oblivious to the tension in the room. Swiftly, you cross the distance to his crib, gently scooping him up, trying your hardest not to stir him. Every instinct screams at you to get away, to protect your child from the unpredictable scene.

You barely register Miles' words of apology or his attempt to follow, reacting instinctively by sending a web in his direction, narrowly missing him and instead encasing Miguel against the wall. With him momentarily restrained, you leave the room.

Miguel, however, almost effortlessly shrugs off the sticky restraints, ripping the webbing from his face. He's pissed, furious even, seething at the situation. Anger boils at the goddamn circumstances, but above all, his ire is directed at this noisy kid. Damn, Miles, can't he just go bother someone else? This isn't his fucking business. It's his mess to fix, his responsibility, and he needs to make things right. Why does Miles have to complicate things even more?

With a tension thick enough to cut, Miguel turns to Miles, "What do you want, kid?"

Miles, glares defiantly, his voice dripping with loathing. "You, gone. Either in some forsaken universe or dead."

Miguel sighs, running a hand down his face, his weariness evident. "Fine, do whatever you wish. Kill me, banish me, torture me. Whatever your little heart desires. Let me first make sure that they are safe. I won't fight you, Miles.”

Miles pauses, disbelief flashing across his face. "You serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Miguel retorts, his gaze piercing.

Miles takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "You're a monster, Miguel. Maybe not a murderer, but still a monster."

"I know what I am." Miguel admits, his voice breaking ever so slightly and without looking back leaving Miles speechless.

Miguel hesitated at the window, on the precipice of leaving. But something - be it fate, spider-sense, or sheer reckless longing - pulled him back. He silently treaded through the apartment, drawn to a soft melodic voice.

There, in the dim room, you stood. Without your mask, vulnerability framed your features, eyes closed, a cascade of hair down your shoulder.

You swayed gently, singing a lullaby, with little Gabriel secure in your embrace, his breathing even and deep. This sight, so full of love and tenderness, tore through Miguel. It was a clear representation of everything he yearned for, of the life that slipped through his fingers, so vivid he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.

His heart ached, thinking of the life they could've shared, of waking up to this exact scene every day, of being a part of this little family. The regret was suffocating him in its weight.

You sensed him before you heard him, before you smelled his perfume, warm and woody with a hint of something spicy. He smelled like the shower gel he uses when you both took long showers, the walks you used to take in the woods on Earth 99, discussing plans for the HQ, but you just enjoyed holding his hand. He also smelled like your pillows after he disappeared in the morning, a scent tinged with abandonment. He smelled like a thousand things you couldn’t place, but foremost, he smelled like one thing, and you just hated that thought. Home.

You finally broke the silence, your voice soft and wearied. "What are you doing here, Miguel?"

He swallowed, voice raw. "I needed to see if you were okay."

A sad smile played on your lips. "You're too late for that."

Ahhhh, you guys are amazing! Please share your thoughts, and don't hesitate to suggest how you'd like the story to end – I might just include it! Let's turn this into a group project. I was close to giving up on the story, feeling not good enough. I love writing and creating, but anxiety often gets the best of me. Your kind messages, (which yes, I read and cherish every single one) have helped immensely. I'm so grateful and want to return all the positivity back to you. Wish I could hug each of you! ☀️

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st4rymoon · 7 months

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♱ 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 ♱

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: DARK CONTENT! This is your warning! 18+, Predator x prey, language, cursing, fearful situations, handcuffs, dubconish but it’s consensual?, rough sex!, mean Miguel, pet names, hair pulling, p in v, fingering, unprotected sex!, breeding kink, possessive miguel

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Miguel felt like an asshole but he couldn’t stop thinking about what he read in your journal. Both of you went on a fall vacation together deciding to take a break from the stress of running the spider society.

You’ve been dating for around a year now and yesterday he did something he thought he’d never do. While you were in the shower, your journal sat on the nightstand only inches away from him full your secrets.

He was fighting himself internally but the urges got the best of him. Scanning through the pages his eyes stopped at his name, he read the words written on the dainty pieces of paper.

He could feel his face heat up as he took in your deepest desires. His eyes widening at the words ‘I want to feel the adrenaline rushing through me as he stalks through the woods and finds me’ he couldn’t stop reading.

Once you were out of the shower your journal was back in its usual place. You walked out with a towel wrapped around your body, the fresh droplets of water dripping down your skin as you made your way to the bed and changed into your pjs.

Ever since then you could tell Miguel was in his head more that usual. He would watch you with far more precision, his eyes would lingering on your for seconds too long.

You were on the couch, watching some tv as you munched on some popcorn. Miguel said he’d be back in a few so you wasted no time to get comfortable. A few hours passed when you heard the door open.

You turned back with a smile as you faced Miguel, your faced dropped in amusement as he walked in with a full black outfit and a duffel bag in hand “did you rob a bank?” You joked as he walked up to you.

“Ha ha very funny” he hummed as he placed the bag next to you “go get changed into this, we’re going somewhere doll” Miguel hummed.

You smiled and picked up the bag, making your way to the bathroom. You placed the bag onto the counter and rummaged through it.

A set of black panties and a bra with a matching dress and some shoes. What in the hell was this man planning? Both of you robbing a bank?

You laughed to yourself as you changed into the things he gave you and fixing yourself up in the mirror. Once you were finished you walked into the living room, in front of you sat Miguel with his legs spread and hands between his legs as he leaned forward. His head tilted up as he saw you walk over to him.

“Where are we going this late at night? The bar?!” You jumped as you remembered the tasty drink you got a few days ago. Miguel shook his head as his hands trialed up the sides of your thighs.

“siéntate” he hummed, pulling you onto his lap and pinning you onto him. His face dropped into the crook of your neck, his tongue softly running up your neck and sucking softly. You let out a moan as his fingers made their way to the back of your dress and lifting the thin material up so he could play with your panties.

“Miguel” you whined as he moaned into you “I read that little journal of yours sweetheart, what did you mean about stalking you through the woods mhm?”

You tensed up in his lap “I- I- it wasn’t-“ you didn’t know what to say now caught red handed. You felt your body heat up in embarrassment “why are you reading through my journal in the first place?” You tried to change the finger pointing to him “don’t switch the conversation honey, you really want me to hunt you down in the woods? Catch you like a fox hunts a bunny?” He hummed.

You whined at his words, he was pushing you to talk and you couldn’t bare his teasing. You had a dirty secret you thought he’d never find out. You’ve always had an on going fantasy of playing cat and mouse games in the woods. Not with strangers but with someone you could really trust, someone you could live out your sick fantasies with.

It really didn’t help realizing a year into your relationship with Miguel that he drew you these fantasy’s even more. You fantasized about him hunting you like prey, his huge figure stalking the woods in mere silence with his spider man capability’s.

You’ve never thought about it with your ex’s, you felt like you always had the advantage being spider woman if you’d follow threw with it. But with you and Miguel having spider abilities and your own special talents, it seemed far thrilling.

You didn’t say a word as Miguel’s gaze burned through you “answer me” he sternly spoke. All you did was nod your head “words” he cooed, your checks being squished by his hands as he held you up to his face.

“Yes, I’m sorry you had to Read th-“ before you could apologize his lips crashed onto yours. You could feel him throbbing in his slacks as he softly bucked his hips onto you.

“Don’t apologize muñeca, don’t do that” he moaned, a string of saliva sticking to your lips as he pulled back softly “do you trust me?” He hummed.

“Of course I do Miguel. I trust you with everything I have in me” you whispered while trying to attach your lips onto his again. He let your lips connect but he still continued to speak “what if we played this little game of yours here? We’re in a cabin, woods all around us. But you’ll be safe love, I took care of everything already”

You kissed him rougher, Moaning into his mouth in agreement. “Yes” you nodded, Miguel smiled at the way your body warmed up in his hands. It didn’t help help that you were ovulating, he could smell your hormones radiating off you.

“Let’s go”

Miguel closed the door behind you and guiding you to the edge of the house “let me explain the rules” Miguel sighed. There was a new version of Miguel in front of you, he stood with his arms crossed with his eyes trained on you. It felt he was sizing you up while purposely trying to scare you.

“Firstly, the woods are safe, nothing inside that can hurt you or me. House is off limits no hiding inside. You don’t have to worry about getting lost I have that taken care of.” Miguel hummed. “Now for the important rules you’ll enjoy”

You squeezed your legs together as you stared up at him. Miguel chuckled as you did “ one, the most important rule if things get too much, use our safe word”

“Red, I know” you shrugged as you cut him off “good. If you manage to keep hidden from me, which I doubt, the game will end in 2 hours and you’ll know when they are up. You’ll win if the 2 hours go by. If I catch you and you get away, the game will continue on. If I catch you, I’ll get to do what I want with my prize”

You bit your lip, you didn’t fail to notice the bag he had wrapped around his back and you wondered what he had inside. Rope? Hand cuffs? A knife maybe? You didn’t care, you wanted all of it.

“If I win what will I get” you pout “what ever you want doll” Miguel winked. You nodded “lastly, no webs allowed until I catch your or you win. No swinging in trees but I’ll allow crawling. You listening? I know you love to break the rules but just know the game will end if you do” Miguel hissed while pointing a finger down at you.

“Yeah yeah” you rolled your eyes “when can we start?” You sigh. He hummed at your cockiness “you’ll get a 40 second start, once I say go you run” he nodded.

You repaid the nod and started into the eerie woods. You couldn’t wait for it to start, even though darkness swallowed everything around you; only allowing you to see the shadowed trees and rocks scattered along the tree line, you loved it.

“Ready sweetheart?” He hummed. “Yeah”

“1…2…3…” Miguel slowly counted, he paused for a few seconds making you look up at him. Before you could say anything he yelled go.

You looked into the woods and sprinted in, darting around and pushing past the trees as you looked around for a good hiding spot. You could hear Miguel counting in the distance, his voice fading away as you ran deeper into the woods.

You didn’t know how far you were in the woods but you knew you made some distance. You couldn’t see the light of the house, just pitched black with some highlights illuminated by your spider vision.

You sat with your arms wrapped around your knees as you sat behind a rock, making sure to quiet your breathing and listen to your surroundings. You perked up at the sound of foot steps. Your eyes darted around, nose smelling everything around you as your senses heightened.

No fucking way it was Miguel, it couldn’t end this fast.

Your heart was beating as you heard the crunching growing closer. You looked down at your feet, a few inches away you see a small shadow and hear a ribbit.

The crunching and flopping of a frog jumping around making you sigh as you noticed it stop near your feet. “Scared the shit out of me frog” you whispered.

Your moment was cut short as you heard whistling from behind “I can smell you love, you’re lucky it can’t lead me to you. You just fill all of my fucking senses” Miguel’s voice hums. Your legs squeezed together at the sound of his voice, the tone cold as the echos of his whistles ran through you.

You knew he was walking, the crunching and his voice sounding as if from the ground. You didn’t even think about him behind above you, even more of a precaution.

Not only did you have to watch out from down low but also from above. You could hear him getting closer, your heart heated in your chest as you looked around the ground for a rock.

You found a decent sized rock, peeking from above you and listened closely to the sound of his whistles before you picked a direction and threw the rock.

Miguel’s whistles stopped as the rock hit the ground, his footsteps running towards the rock in hopes of catching you.

You got up and ran, crawling onto a tree and hiding inside the leafs. “Aren’t you smart, trying to distract me? Thought you’d know better doll, now I know I’m close” he mocked.

You watched down below as you waited for him to appear. The heavy crunching of leafs letting you know he was on the ground.

A few seconds of silence was unsettling, no crunching, no whistles, just howls of owls and crickets filled your ears. He could be anywhere, for all you knew he could be behind you.

You heard a crack of a branch from behind you making you jump out of the tree. You heard Miguel’s dark chuckle from behind as he jumped onto the ground sprinting after you.

“This is just too easy” he cooed. You ran faster than you ever had, faster then you do when you run from enemies or anomaly’s. Miguel was surprised by your agility and speed but he wouldn’t give up.

Your heart was racing as you swerved through trees. You dumbly took a turn to slow, allowing Miguel to grab a fist full of your hair and yank you onto his chest. He hummed as you clawed at his chest, you had the fight in you, you didn’t want him to win this easily.

You twisted your leg behind his, dropping him onto the ground and loosening his grasp. He cursed as you ran even faster than before, a loud curse echoing behind you as he couldn’t catch up.

You were back on the ground, deciding that being in trees was a worse idea. You could feel the slick between your folds soaking your panties, your pussy was throbbing at the remembrance of how rough he was.

The way he yanked you onto him like you were nothing but a pillow was making you crazy. All you wanted to do was to move your panties to the side and rub your swollen little clit for some relief, but you knew better.

Minutes went by with nothing but the sounds of nature, your body relaxed as you finally got back to your normal breathing.

But as always, you could never get too comfortable.

You heard crunching yet again, this time you stood up quiet and walked behind a tree, hiding yourself behind the large bark.

You listened as the crunching stopped. You knew you really pissed Miguel off because he was so damn quiet now. Not a peep from him. No condescending words or teases.

You took a breath, eyes closed as you listened closer. “You look so damn pretty” you heard from besides you. Your eyes snapped open and looking to your left, there was Miguel leaning on the tree besides you.

“Shit” you cursed, running with force as you tried to get as far away from him. “Not again sweetheart” he hissed as he wrapped a hand around your mouth, pinning you onto his back and this time allowing himself to fall back onto a tree.

His other hand wrapped around your waist as he lowered the both of you onto the ground. You kicked at his legs as he whispered praises in your ear.

“Oh come on, give it up already I won” he hummed. You could feel how hard he was as he sat you up on his lap, his legs wrapping onto yours to cage you between him.

“You smell so fucking good honey, pussy is begging me to touch you” he moaned as his hand slipped into your panties.

You let out a moan as his calloused fingers ran through your folds, your slick coating his thick fingers as he groaned at the sound of how wet you are.

“Oh honey, listen to how wet you are. My poor little girl needs me huh?” He hummed into the crook of your neck. “F- fuck” you panted out, your nails dug into his arms as he rubbed on your swollen clit “I can feel you throbbing against my fingers doll, pussy is begging for me honey” he cooed.

You squirmed and whined as his hand wrapped around your throat; facing you up to him. The moonlight lit up his face as you stared up in awe at him. “Aww look at you, mi muñequita chula” Miguel was taking in the sight before him.

His beautiful girl spread wide between his thighs, eyes shimmering up at him. “Ple- mig” you cried “remember, I won so I’m in charge” he cooed.

Your body was shivering in need as he teasingly rubbed your clit. He pulled away as he turned you around to face him, he kept you pinned with one hand as he rummaged through his bag.

You pulled out some handcuffs from the bag, his hand kept you pinned on his chest as the other gripped your wrists and pinned them onto your back.

You moaned at the feeling of the cold metal tightening around your wrists. He was kind enough to not tighten them up too much to hurt but just enough to make it slightly uncomfortable to move.

Miguel was going crazy, your scent filled his senses, everything about you was driving him crazy. The way you looked so damn weak made him rock hard, he knew you couldn’t fight back with your hands cuffed, he knew you couldn’t protest.

“Need you” he huffed as he unbuckled his belt and kicked his boxers off. His cock flung out onto his stomach, pre cum spilling out of his angry tip as you whined in need.

You gasped as he ripped off your black lace panties and pulled your dress down, exposing your tits out for him. Miguel rubbed his tip between your folds, groaning at the feeling of your soaked pussy leaking all over him.

He aligned his tip into your oozing hole, pushing his hips into you as he stretched you out. A loud moan spilled out of you as he pistons his hips into you, his cock filling you to the brim as he holds your hips down onto his.

His eyes watched the way your plush tits bounced along with his hard slams. His head fell onto your tits, his mouth lapping and biting onto your skin as he fucked himself into you.

The way he held you felt so much different than he usually does in bed, it felt like he was ravaging his last meal. He fucked you on the damp soil, in the middle of the woods like he was giving into his deepest urges.

“Couldn’t believe you liked things like this doll, practically fucked myself into my hand thinking of something like this the first time we kissed. Imagined how you’d taste in this situation” he hissed.

You were bouncing along with his hard slams dumbly, your wrists slightly hurting from the restriction. His hand wrapped around you throat, pressing onto your throat as he lost himself in your pussy.

Your eyes were rolled back in your head and inaudible sentences spilled from you as the over whelming feeling of living out your deepest fantasy came true.

“You’ll never leave me, I’ll never let you go. You’re mine sweetheart, I’ll kill for you if I had too. Anything” Miguel muttered. You pussy clenched around him, his words making you moan as he picked up the pace. His pubic bone rubbed against your clit perfect, you fell onto his shoulders as you moved your hips onto his.

Your orgasm crashed upon you hard, your pussy throbbing and gushing around his fat cock. He continued his brutal pace, overstimulating you as his fingers played your with over worked clit.

“No no no” you cried as you shook onto his fingers “shhh” he hummed. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as he felt himself pulsing inside your walls, cock dripping pre cum into your cunt as he threatened to burst inside you.

“Fuck- fuck” Miguel hissed. A primal moan rumbled out of him as he spurted his seed inside you. He fucked his load into your tight cunt in hopes to make himself a daddy.

He envisioned you growing plump with his child as he rides out his high “a- ah ah fuck” he whined out. You could hear the wetness of each others cums as he overstimulated himself. He was shaking as your walls squeezed him perfectly.

You let out a tired moan as he finally slowed his pace and stilled inside you. Miguel unlocked your handcuffs weakly, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

You sat there for a while, cock buried inside you as both of you took in the cold air. “I love you so much” Miguel whispered as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hands moving down to your dress and lifting the fabric back up your chest.

“Lets get you back home”

#smut #marvel smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel ohara #miguel o hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #kinktober

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