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voidhope · 10 months

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The Other Woman

(Part 2 FINALE)

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Synopsis: Miguel had left Y/N for another version of his old wife in hopes of getting his old life back. To only realize the mistakes he’s made.

Link to Part 1

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!reader

Warnings: very heavy mental health, ANGST LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, ALL OF THIS IS ANGST, mentions of death/almost dying, long term establish relationship, cheating, swearing, therapy, physical fight, blood, feral protective miguel?

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A/N: hello again! this one is more heartbreaking and longer than the first part oof… Very low dialog up until closer towards the end! wanted to just get through telling the story itself and the emotions. It’s just a very heavy storyline!! I want to say thank you so so much for showing so much support for part 1 i had no idea it would receive that much attention :O !! i wrote this out kinda fast as i didn’t want to loose the momentum of the idea. so apologies for any mistakes! all feedback is greatly appreciated ~

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You used to make Miguel coffee everyday, with one cream two sugars, and he would nag about how he hated the taste. It was to your liking, not his. As you would sneakily take sips out of his mug while working next to him. Why didn’t you just get your own coffee? You claimed you could never finish it and just wanted a taste out of his. Miguel would roll his eyes at you every time he caught you but he adored it. He had secretly grown to love the way you made it and had become his only way of making coffee after meeting you.

Now as this version of his older wife made it the way he is suppose to like coffee, bland and straight, he found himself bothered by it. Going as far to correct her even though this was what he had been claiming to have missed so much. He was now seeing himself teaching someone else how to love him like you did…

He was only a shell of the man he was when he had Gabriella. Even though the copy of his old wife has her same personality, the relationship couldn’t be exactly how it was before because he had changed so much. You had helped him become whole again. His tastes and likings had all switched to everything about you. The charm he found in his old wife doesn’t hold a light to you now and he was getting frustrated. He had wanted this so badly. He felt like those babies who whine and cry wanting to eat a lemon and once they get their way they realize the sour truth.

Miguel never truly realized what it was like to loose you until three weeks after he told you the truth. Over the years the idea of losing you terrified him but he only ever thought of it being in death. He never considered separation when everything was perfect for both of you then. There were times he believed that you were made just for him and he treated you like his queen. Which you truly were to him in his spider society. Why would he ever throw that away? Look at what he did.

He gave himself every excuse in the book before you knew he was cheating on you. ‘This is only for research.’ he would think every time he found himself back in that universe. As everyone knew he was so serious about his work, obviously this is just him getting to know more about certain universes and canons. Lyla was the only one seeing straight through him knowing where he was actually going. Things kept tumbling and the more he found out about the place and spent time with her the more his grief and yearning returned. It was all just there, so reachable.

There was a time his mind tried to snap him back out of it while cheating on you and made him realize the guilt. The first time he kissed this woman you were there in his mind. He came home right after and held you without saying a word. You never questioned him, just showed him comfort as much as you could. Lightly stroking his back, you never over stepped or pushed him when he was vulnerable with you. He only closed his eyes and held onto you tighter processing how you were always too good for him. He was converting to living two different lives; his old self during the day and then coming home to you. He didn’t want to let go of either at the time.

Once he found out he could safely have Gabriella again was when he became distant with you. The shame of using you for research made him become stoic. He didn’t want to admit how wrong he was treating you. All while you were always being so loyal and trusting towards him. Things were slowly slipping through the cracks and he knew he couldn’t up keep it. He wished he could have had that conversation with you so much differently but it was over. Now he had his old life back, a dream he had his mind set on.

He ignored the shakiness in his hands when he returned to her after letting you go. ‘It’s all for the best.’ is what he would repeat in his mind as a mantra. His new girlfriend truly had no idea who he really was or what his background was. Miguel continued to feed her lies to the point where he even started believing them himself getting too lost in avoiding what he’s done. He believed he was happy as he spent time with her.

When she got too close to finding the truth after finding his wedding ring in one of his pockets, he set her off course from it by revealing his spider identity and taking her to HQ. This was the day that everything felt like it was crashing around him. Being reminded of his marriage, having to face his friends with his new lover, sharing his personal spider life, his work with someone who wasn’t you. He excused himself rushing to an unused office room while his chest was tightening. Pupils dilating as he realized it was his first time having a panic attack.

Nevertheless he continued to push it all aside and act completely normal with his girlfriend. He was feeling your absence the most while working. You had became an extension of him. He had trained you from scratch and you helped him build this society he has now. You knew the ins and outs of everything and fought perfectly alongside him. Now that he was on his own he let his girlfriend be there for him when he got stressed, but there always was a knot in his stomach he never could get rid of.

The more his mental health ate at him late at night the more he considered searching out for you. There was no closure between both of you and he never got to listen to how you feel. What was your opinion on all that happened? Do you hate him?

He wanted to speak with someone so badly but he dug himself in a hole too deep. You were gone, he was lying through his teeth to this poor woman he’s kept for some fantasy, he felt too ashamed to say anything to his friends, he would rather die if all his workers found out how big of a piece of shit he is. Anytime Lyla tried peeping a word that wasn’t work related he would snap. He had pushed everyone away and now he just felt alone.

Regardless he would wake up in the morning and swallow all his dark feelings. He would remember his grief of when he lost his family and it would put him back in the moment. He has another chance. He was happy with the direction he was going in now.

Right?

—

The day he found out you were at HQ he felt his heart stop. He was mid mission trying to call for Lyla but she wouldn’t answer. Frustrated he tried looking into what was happening only to see her busy having a conversation with you. It felt like something took over him when he opened a portal in less than a second. Without thinking nor wasting a heartbeat he rushed back. Just a glimpse of you, maybe just to hear a word out of your mouth. The feeling of having you back in HQ was making him ignore all his insecurities. How he would coward at the thought of trying to reach out to you before. You were in his home, your home, and the thought drove him wild.

You were already long gone though. Lyla stared at him not saying a word. The quietness in the room making his ears ring but his thoughts were screaming in his head. He stood there frozen still trying to recollect himself. He was the one that left you, what is wrong with him?

Again he went back and forth in his own head trying to convince himself ‘You wanted this.’ but if he did why is he feeling like someone just killed a puppy in front of him? Why is he here fighting with his self if this is really his dream? Why did he try chasing after you? The wounds of his past grief were too deep. He never took the time to properly heal and now look at what he’s become.

“Miguel, what’s this?” He was startled turning around seeing his girlfriend holidng your watch and skimming through the divorce paperwork addressed to him.

There was no more hiding, no more lying. He swallowed hard even though his throat was dry. He let everything he had kept away rise to surface. It hurt him to see the beautiful face his old wife shared contort into such anger and pain while finding the truth.

She didn’t stay, but for some reason he wasn’t upset. Though he longed for his daughter, he knew it would have never been the same now. He finally closed the door on his past. His heart had made the choice this time but it’s too late. Now grasping onto the divorce papers left by you, emptiness spread through his soul.

—

You on the other hand did not find yourself crying by yourself on a rooftop for long. The shift in the air from your arrival alerted the local spider-man immediately.

“It didn’t work out, did it?” He crouched down next to you as he noticed your watch gone and your missing wedding band.

Peter Parker knew both you and Miguel. Your husband had come to do many rounds of research in this universe when he took you. Eventually offering this Peter a spot in the society, which he politely declined due to just being busy enough here. You both never spoke much but always had an appreciation for each other.

“Do you need a place to crash at?” He continued while trying to get you to look at him. Reaching his hand towards you.

You had absolutely no one and you had been gone so long you couldn’t even go back to the little you had. When you met Miguel you didn’t hesitate to never look back and now it filled you with regret. How naive were you to put all your trust and reliance on him.

You took Peter’s hand. You were ready to start your own life and be your own person now.

—

Peter Parker was nice enough to let you stay with him as long as you needed it. You both had became ‘besties!’ as he would love to poke at you. The first month with him you were a disaster really but he showed you how he liked to cope using his spider abilities.

The first thing he helped you with was getting a new suit. Your old one resembled too much to Miguel’s and you felt suffocated every time you put it on. Peter had taught you to use your current emotional pain on whichever sad little villain was making trouble out in Brooklyn that night.

“Come on, we got multiverse spider-woman helping me keep these streets clean now!” He would taunt at the men while watching you easily take them out a little bit too aggressively. His feet kicking up and down while he sat on the side of a building watching you. The crime rate did go down a bit once word got around how strong your punch was. Peter’s just happy he can now spend some nights to himself.

You got yourself a job at the mart on the corner to help cover bills for Peter and save up. You were grateful enough the owners never batted an eye when you would disappear during a shift to either suddenly go cry uncontrollably or beat the shit out of someone at a nearby robbery. Next thing you were enrolling yourself back in university, wanting to finish that degree you never did.

It wasn’t too long that some of your older spider friends would stop by to check in on you. Seeing them was difficult sometimes, you were internally itching to ask about Miguel. Things were going okay for you on a very slow path of breathing step by step. You never wanted to feel that hurt again and so you very well pretend like Miguel didn’t exist if you could.

You couldn’t ignore the hurt resurfacing when you passed couples on the street. Or when you found yourself going to fidget with your wedding ring just to remember it’s gone. You can’t just move on from a relationship that was so deeply apart of you and lasted so long. You gave everything to him and it will take you much time to get yourself to build trust again.

After two semesters, you finally had your graduation. All the things you learned while in Earth-928 paid off as you barley had to study. Passing top of the class, you immediately got an offer for an internship opportunity with Alchemax and was able to get an introduction tour of the building beforehand.

What you hadn’t realized was that Alchemax had been looking for that girl who snuck into their offices a couple years ago. Who made another dimension’s spider appear and then went missing herself soon after. They had kept as close tabs on you as they could and how foolish you were to think your little break in wouldn’t come back to bite you. The moment you stepped foot back in their building, it was over for you.

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Miguel had spent a whole year in much deserving therapy. Nothing could stop the embarrassment he felt when Peter B signed him up with HQ’s best spider-therapist after 3 months of constant out bursts. No one could come near the man when he felt like he had lost everything. Those first initial months were difficult for everyone around him.

Therapy did help, he hates to admit it, but it was a very rough ride. He finally was able to understand his deep inner term oil and heal his issues but moving on from you? No, he could never.

You were the only one who had sincerely stood by his side, always rooting for him. He never fell out of love with you despite of everything that he did. He just pushed everything down too deep and was blinded by obsession. Till now he could never deny that he still loves you. Maybe if he just would have went to therapy years ago instead of acting out on unsolved grief none of this would have happened. The guilt always making him toss and turn at night.

He would have big temper tantrums when he would find his coworkers going to visit you time to time and not sharing any details. He needed to know if you’re okay. Did you already move on? He longed to find you and speak with you but he knew he wasn’t ready yet. He was so self destructive and this was what he deserved.

Everyone avoided him completely when he overheard someone saying you were living with Peter Parker. Fighting crime with him and having a cute little home life. Peter followed you around now like a puppy. Miguel did not take the news well at all. Let’s just say, the large bill replacement for his monitor screens was what snapped him out of that rage.

He also wanted to strangle Hobie Brown every time he saw a glint in his eye when your name was mentioned around. Yet Miguel couldn’t hate the kid either, as Hobie was one of the people to try help repair the damage he did to you. How badly he just wanted to hold you and shield you in his arms from any other people taking you from him as if he wasn’t the idiot to let you go in the first place.

Everyone’s big, powerful, scary boss was really just a grumpy, wallowing-in-self-pity, sensitive, lonely man now. Mention your name too much to him and watch him start crying or take it out on whatever he could find nearest to him. He would some nights scroll through your wedding photos while listening to your last tracked log with Lyla. Your words cutting through him deep like long sharp knives. How he urged to go tell you it was all wrong and how guilty he was for making you feel like this.

Despite it all, he still believed in being the best of the best. He used his work to distract himself from his sorrows, to become numb. Even though his divorce paperwork were set next to him on his desk to remind him the pain. He never signed it.

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“We can’t tell him!” Jessica gritted through her teeth. Small group of spider-people were hovered around Lyla taking in the new found information.

“Her canon events have always been uncertain, we can’t just stop and fix this one?” Gwen Stacy suggested in hopes.

“We have never prevented a canon event of hers or the people involved in it. It could be even more dangerous than a regular canon.” Peter B spoke grimly.

“When ‘as danger ever stopped us?” Hobie spoke up.

“Everyone get your gear.” Lyla added to the stress of the situation.

—

You couldn’t open your eyes properly with a strong blinding light being held above you. Arms and legs secured on top of a metal surgical table. You could feel the warmth of blood scattered on certain parts of your body, slowly starting to dry. It was a mix of yours and the people you had tried fighting through to get out of here when you realize the trap you were reeled into. Different people in lab coats poked and pried all around you while you were tied. Your mask was thrown on another table and your suit had large gashes across it.

Soon you also could feel the presence of Peter Parker being brought to the room, thrown slumped in the corner breathing heavily. They had gotten you too good. They knew everything and had planned this so detailed.

“Now you’re going to help me open the multiverse.” Kingpin loomed around you. All you could feel was searing pain as a laser aimed right at your chest.

—

Miguel was already staring out the window to the glowing night lights of Nueva York when he saw a big hole appear in sight of the skyline. His eyebrows furrowed while he was trying to process what he was looking at. It wasn’t a second later when all alarms started going off in his office.

“Qué carajos?” He exclaimed seeing the alerts of a possible universe collapse. “Lyla! Why wasn’t this being taken care of already?”

“I already sent people.”

“Then what are they doing?” He yelled. His confusion and anger only furthered when he saw a red alarm for a canon event.

“Canon event?” He whispered to himself. He always knew when these were happening, there were none scheduled for today. There was no way he would let one passed him, it’s not like this could magically appear? His jaw dropped in realization… a new canon event.

“Lyla, tell me the truth. Why wasn’t this reported to me?” He made the atmosphere turn cold. She knew he already figured it out.

“A new canon event was received this morning being given to Peter Parker. Of Y/N L/N’s death.” The words from Lyla made Miguel’s body go still. His eyes raced side to side while he processed it.

“No!” He roared, a fist slamming into the nearby desk. His massive strength breaking it in half.

“Boss, you can’t go on this mission only using your emotions.” Lyla warned. However Miguel was already half way stepping through a portal to find you.

He appeared, watching his team struggle to shut down the machine causing the collapse. Outnumbered by the amount of Alchemax puppets. A different kind of rage filled him as he saw you, for the first time in a year, suffering. Miguel was never one to act reckless while on missions but he had no plan here and just ran off the pure adrenaline the fight or flight had hit him with.

His claws tore into the backs of his enemies as he jumped beast-like across the room. Not hesitating spilling blood across the wall while he took everyone down as fast as he could. His team could only watch wide eye with an unsettling fear as they saw Miguel lose himself to his spider sense. While he fought they took the opportunity to take apart the machine.

Miguel was panting heavily, pupils blown wide glowing red, and fangs dripping with venom as the room slowly silenced. Kingpin laid on the floor slowly trying to drag himself after being beaten to a pulp. It was over. Peter B stopped him from doing anything further. Knowing Miguel would kill the man, Peter B let the team finish up to give Kingpin to authorities. Miguel turned frantically to look at you seeing the other spiders step away. Peter Parker was hunched over you in tears. Miguel fought the urge to snap at Peter and grab his hands off of you.

Your vision was too blurry and everything felt like it was burning. A shape that seemed too familiar came into your peripheral vision and you tried to push yourself up.

“Miguel?” Was the last thing you croaked before slumping back passing out. Miguel catching you in his arms before you could hurt yourself further.

“It’s her time.” Jessica spoke behind him. Yet he was refusing to let go. He had never defied the way the timeline worked since he created his society. He would never break the rules and you both had promised each other before not to. If there was a situation like this you both agreed to save the universe first. How stupid was he to think he would listen to that now facing it in-front of him.

He never got to tell you what happened. He never got to apologize. He never got to tell you one more time that he loved you. Even if you in result just spat in his face, at least he was able to talk to you one more time. You were never a placeholder or someone to fill a hole in his heart. His whole heart belonged to you and he couldn’t let you go thinking you didn’t mean anything to him. No matter the consequences, he needed to tell you.

“Call all the teams to control the damage of a possible universe collapse.” He turned to Jess with Y/N tightly in his arms. The spider-people watched speechless as he opened a portal and disappeared.

—

Two weeks you laid motionless in the HQ’s medbay.

The clean up after breaking the canon was a little intense. They were able to get it under control as the event started to fade from your timeline once you were returned and starting to heal in Earth-928.

The spider society would remain silent near the medbay. The lights always being dimmed and hushed whispers between staff to not bother the distressed O’Hara. He refused to leave.

Your Peter Parker had now joined the team, much to Miguel’s dismay. Everyday your friends would come in and check to see how you were. Some telling stories about their day or any gossip updates you missed, in hopes that it would get you to wake up. They would ignore the gloomy Miguel who was basically glued to the seat next to you not saying a word to anyone.

At night Miguel would play with your fingers and softly stroke your hair all while pleading “Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. Por favor mi alma.” He knew it wasn’t his place to beg this after what he did, but he didn’t mind the words falling on deaf ears.

Miguel hadn’t eaten in days, he felt too nauseous from anxiety to even try anything. Pavitr had done the favor to bring you and Miguel’s favorite empanadas from a small street vendor downtown. Hoping to get Miguel to at least try the food before he ended up in a hospital bed next to you due to starvation.

You started to blink open your eyes, spots surrounding your vision. You could hear a soft breathing to your right side and you slowly felt your sense come back one by one. It felt like you just had a really rough nap.

“Oh my god that smells so good.” You moaned, sitting yourself up to try to look at where the smell of food was coming from.

You were met with a wide eyed Miguel holding a box of empanadas. His jaw slacked open acting as if he’s seen a ghost looking at you. Confusion hit you first for a second and then you start to panic.

Why was he here? Why was your ex-husband sitting right here? You started to push away from him and Miguel caught on to your panic.

“No, no, no mi amor stop.” He tried calming you. “You’re hurt, you’re going to open your stitches.”

You suddenly remembered everything that happened right before you blacked out. At that moment you forgot the hurt you had towards your ex-lover. Gathering yourself you just stared at him. “I’m suppose to be dead.”

Tears rimmed your eyes. Why did it feel like life just hated you so much?

Miguel engulfed you in his arms as you started to cry. You didn’t care right now. You had ached for this feeling again, so alone, with the comfort Miguel used to bring you. Just for a moment you could pretend like how it was before.

“We can’t do this Miguel.”

He knew what you were thinking. He didn’t want to let you leave his arms yet, as he let his self hold harder and push your head closer into his the crook of his shoulder. The tickle of your breath on his neck, he just wanted this forever.

“She left. Almost a year ago.” He let out to you. A big weight coming off of his chest. You pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes while you watched him avoid your gaze. You felt bad to say you could feel a bit of satisfaction bubbling in you.

“Good, she deserved better.”

“So did you.” Miguel sighed playing with his hands. Your eyes widened when you saw the ring still on his finger. He let you stare. “I-I could never. I couldn’t.” The emotions struggle to come out of his mouth. You understood him though. You always did. Placing your hand on top of his you just nodded.

“Please stay here.” He whispered.

Miguel had broken you in so many ways. Yet he almost ruined another universe just to keep you alive. You both needed time to talk and coming out a coma right now isn’t good timing.

“I finally became my own person when I went back in my universe. I enjoyed my independence.” The words pelleted at him. He could only hold his breath as he waited for you to continue. “I’ll stay… but not for you.”

It wounded him deeply; but he deserved it. This place will always be a home for you even if he wasn’t apart of it. Before he can tear his gaze and turn away, you reached out to hold his face close to yours. Your fingers gently rubbing on his cheeks as you slowly look at him properly after so long. You let your thumb smooth over his frown lines and he leaned into your touch closing his eyes.

“Let’s give us time.” Was the words you blessed that opened every door of hope he could find. He would take it, he would absolutely take it. He has to fight for you, he has to prove to you. He would do anything but for now he’ll be on his best patiently waiting for you.

Both of you sat comfortably without speaking, only the faint background beeps of the hospital monitor making up for the silence, while passing small glances. For once both of you felt a missing warmth you didn’t realize you needed. Sharing empanadas with each other, just maybe it will be alright…

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The end!!! Thank you so so much for your time in reading my story. i really really was so happy with all the comments and feedback on pt 1 it really meant a lot!!!

i hope this was ok ~ i apologize for how long it was i was thinking of doing another part but just wanted to finish this up. I was in such a conflict how to end this. i hope it wasn’t too cliche or anything i’m just a sucker for very wanty needy dramatic stories. It’s a hopeful ending tho~ i couldn’t pick with just happy or sad.

So many of you had tons of amazing suggestions which I appreciated so much. I was such a mess trying to figure it all out. Many of you wanted to see Y/N move on with another person but I ended up going this route. I used Peter Parker as an obv character in y/n’s universe but it’s not tied to any specific one and you guy can think of him more to your liking if you want to!

If any of you would like a small drabble or imagine of another route of this story or just anything angsty/possessive and rarwrarwbarkbark miguel. I’d be glad to help lol!! My request box is wide open~ i had so much fun writing this!

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TAG LIST!

@hoseokslefteyebrow @sleepyamaya @typicalife-101 @jenniferdixon05207 @geraskier-thots @nuttyrebelflower @youcantseem3 @ihateuguys @archangel1206 @southprw

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman imagine #spiderman2099 #across the spiderverse #astv #x reader #peter parker #fanfiction #miguel x you #angst #miguel o’hara angst

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months

Note

You know how in the movie, Miles mom gets angry when he says, ‘whatever’ can you do that with latina!wife for Miguel?

𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Wife!Reader

Summary: Miguel hasn't had a proper night's rest in days, and quite frankly you missed him. Too bad he's too swamped with work to notice.

Warnings: None! Just a silly lil fic.

⚝

You know those days where you’re just teetering on the edge? It could be for absolutely no reason at all, or maybe a collection of things, all you knew was that it just makes every action you take frustrating.

Well, that was you today.

Granted it wasn’t for no reason. Yesterday, Miguel had promised to come back home for dinner and sleep in his own bed, because for the last few days he had been swamped with work and mission reports. You understood the work he did was important, truly, but you missed him. That, and he was a chronic overworker who would only stop when he collapsed from exhaustion, and you were not going to let it get to that point.

It was getting tiring having to beg him to come back to rest, even for a moment. Spider powers or not, everyone needs a break.

“Uh oh…” you hear Lyla say as you march into the monitoring room, but you continue to press onward.

“Miguel!” you call up to him, but he doesn’t even bother turning around to face you, rummaging through papers and swiping through screens.

“Querida, is there something you need?” he asks nonchalantly like nothing was wrong.

“Yes! There is, actually. What happened to coming home yesterday, hm~?” you say, irritation rising in your voice.

“Oh…is it already the next day?” he asks, still not looking toward you. “I’m sorry, vida mía. I guess I got carried away, I’ll try to be back later alright?” he says, trying to placate you.

“You can’t keep going on like this Miguel, it’s not healthy. One evening of a break won’t hurt. Hell, I’ll even help you out with paperwork, and Lyla can too. So come home tonight, alright? For me, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he says without thinking, only half listening to you.

“Excuse me?” you say, your voice stone cold and immediately Miguel stiffens, slowly turning toward you with a sheepish look on his face.

“Vida mía,” he says, his expression apologetic as his platform begins to lower to the floor. You don’t have the patience to wait for it though, choosing to swing up with your webs and meet him at his level.

“Miguel O'Hara, who do you think you’re talking to?" you say lowly. "I’m not one of your subordinates, I am your wife,” Your hands are planted on your hips as you look up at him annoyedly.

“I know, I know,” he says hurriedly, “I’m sorry. I said it without thinking.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough. We’re going home, now,” you say, grabbing his hand and leaving no room for argument. “Lyla, have Jess take over for the rest of today, alright?”

“Aye, aye, captain!” she says, snickering at the interaction between the two of you.

“Querida, there’s still so much work I have to do,” he says, resisting your pull but you continue to drag you along.

“Should have thought of that before you said ‘whatever’ to me, Miguel,” you say, but sigh. “I’m only trying to look out for you, is that so bad?”

He pauses, studying your worried expression that was because of him. It caused a wave of guilt to wash over him after he disregarded your care for work instead.

“I know…alright, let’s go home sweetheart,” he says, finally relenting as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Immediately you light up, grasping his hand tighter.

“I’ll make your favourite today, and we can take a bath later if you’d like?” you suggest.

“I would love that, tesoro.”

A/N: Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @phobia0325, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @raweggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana--belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @phobia0325, @honeii-puff, @ieatmunson

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #spiderman #spiderman 2099 x reader #marvel #fluff!

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luveline · 11 months

Text

𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you comfort miguel when he lashes out after a memory —a ficlet featuring begrudgingly lovesick miguel and a flirty spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 1.5k

cw implied ptsd and accidental rough handling

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel can feel your heart-eyes on him. You're sitting behind him on the floor in his office, or, as you've fondly nick-named it this week, The Control Room, humming and making little origami flowers.

So far you've made five, promising him without prompting a multi-coloured bouquet. He doesn't know why you've stopped (or why you started), but he doesn't have to turn around to confirm it. He can tell. You're shameless either way, proven when you say, "Hey, handsome?"

He sighs with more annoyance than he feels. "What?"

"How'd you know I was talking to you?" you ask, with a laugh he loves and hates at once. Loves, because it's a really nice sound, and hates, because he knows how this goes. "I could've been talking to Margo."

"She is handsome," Lyla chimes in.

"Very much," you agree.

Margo, alias Spider-Byte, looks up from her tablet screen to flash a smile. "Thanks, guys."

"What did you want, then?" Miguel asks.

He's surrounded by girls who live to annoy him —they all laugh as though they know something he doesn't, and when he turns to glare at them they laugh more. Lyla zips out of his eyeline, disappearing from view with a sympathetic, "He's dumber than he looks."

"Hurtful," Miguel says, turning back to his screen. "Why do I bother?"

You stand up with your bundle of paper flowers crinkling in your hands and approach him. You're of normal height, while Miguel is of 'ridiculous' height (your word choice), and so you have trouble looking him in the eye when you stand close. You have more trouble keeping your distance, craning your neck all the way up with your rubber capped shoes to his spidersuit ones.

"Can you lean down a bit, please?" you ask.

Margo laughs, “Oh, here we go.”

Miguel has trouble saying no to you. And by trouble, he means he finds it impossible, and he hasn't done it in a while. He leans down very slightly, worried you're going to try and kiss him in front of the others. He's kissed you already (which he hates himself for, what a stupid thing to do) (but was a good kiss, as things go, your lips soft under his, his ardency undulating in the face of your little gasping sound when he'd bitten your lip, when he'd grasped at your side like you were slipping through his fingers), and you've kissed him. But never in front of other people.

Which isn't to say they don't know. Everyone definitely knows. They're just too scared or too kind to say. Or, like Lyla or Margo, they find it funny.

Now in reach, you lift an origami flower to his ear and attempt to prop it there. He has a flash of a memory, a small hand by his face, the summer sun on his neck, and he can't deal with it. He grabs your wrist and pushes it away from him.

Your eyes widen. You're not unused to his bad moods, but Miguel doesn't grab.

You look back, and he thinks it's because you're scared, and he wishes he could take it back straight away, but you're looking for Margo and Lyla. When you see they aren't there, you take his face into your empty hand and ask, "What's wrong?"

Miguel doesn't answer. He doesn't know what to say. Sorry would be a good start, but his mouth is dry. He frowns down at you.

"I didn't mean to overstep," you say, uncharacteristically serious.

"I didn't mean to grab you," he says.

"I know. It wasn't so aggressive, anyways. I'm genetically enhanced, you know?" Your smile creases the delicate skin at the corners of your eyes. "I'll make you something else. A fan, for the heat, or a jumping frog."

You turn and take a step away. Again, Miguel reaches for you, but when he takes your wrist this time it's with the kindness you deserve.

"I'm sorry, cariño," he says.

He’s embarrassed for having pushed you away, even if he couldn’t control himself. All you were trying to do no doubt was make him happy. It's usually your main prerogative besides winding him up, and he can't find any ill will in a paper flower.

"Cariño," you quote in a murmur. It doesn't take a second for you to return to your smiley, loving self. "That's definitely something nice."

"It's affectionate." He doesn't explain more than that.

You force your hand into his, twirling inward like a half-hearted dance. "I can tell," you say giddily, dropping your cheek into his chest.

He rubs the back of your hand. Sorry, sorry, it says, each pass of his thumb against your skin.

"Miguel," you say, in the lilting cadence of a girl with a favour to ask, "now you've ragged me around–"

"Not what happened–"

"–I was thinking maybe I could do something to you." You smile cheekily around your words.

He sweeps his gaze across the office to make sure there's no one here with you both, or about to be. Complicated you may be, but Miguel knows you well. Better than he should. He spent a long time denying his feelings for you, aggrieved and guilty, and a longer amount of time resenting you for being so damned enchanting. Which wasn't your fault in reality —you're a weird creature, and you can be a little off-putting; it's Miguel's problem alone that he wants you as badly as he does. To feel your neat, teasing smirk under his lips. To have the line of your jaw against his hand as you whisper flirtation or laugh at your own awful jokes.

To take your hip into his grasp and squeeze.

There have been times where Miguel wanted to press you up against a wall and kiss you into silence, quieten your taunting teasing with a bite to match his bark. And there have been times where he wanted to rub the tense line between your shoulders, having caught you in a vulnerable moment, and promise that things will be better.

He isn't making any more promises, not in this life, but he thinks that someone like you, who tries too hard to make people happy and sometimes wears two masks at once deserves to do whatever it is they want to do to people like him.

"Okay," he says quietly. His voice is rough as hewn stone.

You have a pocket full of paper stars that crunch as you lean in. "I'm gonna kiss you, if you promise not not to freak out. Is that cool?"

Okay, you deserve some softness, but Miguel would rather lead. Your hand falls to his chest, and his hands find your face. His fingers behind your ears, his thumbs aligned with your smile, he squeezes your cheeks in his hold gently, tilting your chin up, and up. The column of your throat is bared and begging to be scandalised. He can imagine it, the bruising his lips would leave behind like crescent moons and the pinprick crimson stars from his needling fangs if he were to only press down.

"We'll compromise. I'll kiss you, and you'll let me apologise again."

"I don't need you to say sorry again," you say softly.

"Then I won't say it."

The implication has heat rising to your cheeks. Your hand grabs uselessly at his suit as you close your eyes, and Miguel knows his cue. He leans down and kisses you, tender but a little rough, your lips soft and warm and eager as he encourages your head to one side. It feels like you try to say something but you don't move back, and so he doesn't either, kissing and kissing and kissing until he's sure he'll remember how it feel tonight, hours from now, when he's staring at a screen wishing you were haunting his office rather than in a doze in the girl's dormitory.

"Miguel," you say, practically into his mouth. This time he pulls away, and you take a small step back so you don't have to crane your neck. "I, uh…"

Miguel wipes the sheen from your bottom lip, not not listening but certainly not giving his full attention. He's hoping you'll let him kiss you again.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the flower," you say.

His eyes lifted to yours. "It's not that. It's not you. Don't waste any time thinking about it, okay?"

He pinches your chin between his forefinger and his thumb. You hold his eyes for a moment.

"I don't really think," you say bashfully, wrapping your arms around his waist and giving him a hug he doesn't have time to reciprocate.

"You think," he says, blinking as you retreat from him completely, waltzing back to your origami station on the floor. Your hips don't sway, but there's a movement to them he tracks.

"About you, handsome? All the time."

Miguel groans and turns back to his screens. Lyla appears silently, and sticks a finger into her mouth in a mock gag.

"That's in poor taste," he says.

"I would like to hand in my resignation."

"You can't resign, Lyla. You're a hologram."

She pushes her heart-shaped sunglasses up her nose and blinks out of view, refusing to speak to Miguel for the rest of the day outside of official Society business, and even then she's cranky. You fill the void of conversation with a mixture of nonsensical and merited suggestions, and by the time you leave for the night, his desk is decorated by a rainbow menagerie of paper animals, each one made with care.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed! please consider reblogging if you have the time! <;3 if you have a request of this pairing or other miguel fics and want to share, im eager to see them!

my other miguel fics

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intoxicated-chan · 1 year

Text

Come Back to Me, It’s Almost Easy

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Memories from his past come back to haunt him. Reminding him of how much he’s failed.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Almost Easy” by Avenged Sevenfold. I’m in the mood for some heavy angst. Requests are open!!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 870

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, heavy angst, major character death, sleep deprivation, death, blood, light violence…

“You have a choice between saving one person or saving every world.”

Miguel knew it all too well. He’s gone through it just like every other Spider-Man, so it’s nothing new. He should’ve expected it coming which is why he never really reacted or mourned his losses.

He knows what’s coming, which means he shouldn’t have felt this awful about himself. It was almost easy for him to move on from everyone else, but the loss of the most important people broke him.

He can easily tell other Spider-Mans that it’s part of the job, so get up and continue doing what you’re doing. But when he’s asked to do it, he can’t help but cry out loud, the feeling of going crazy by asking him to forget everything. He can’t do that.

But the way he held you in his arms, the way your fingers weakly grazed his face… He won’t forget the way he begged you to stay with him, and how shameful he felt when he realized that no matter how different he chose to do things, it was always going to be the same.

“You’ve been awake for almost 48 hours, Miguel.” Peter B. told him, Mayday in his arms as he watched Miguel struggle to stay awake, “Maybe you should take a break?”

“M’fine.” Miguel nearly pulled at his hair, huffing heavily as he stared into the screen, “Everything is fine.”

“I asked if you were fine, not everyone else.”

“And I said that I am fine.” Miguel growled at Peter B. “And besides, don’t you have better things to do than bother me?”

“I’m just worried about you, Miguel.” Peter B. stepped closer but remained a good distance just in case, “Everyone else is worried, even Miles. We’re here for you.”

“And I said…” Miguel slammed his hands on his desk, “Leave me be!” Snapping at Peter B. without even looking at him, “I don’t need you breathing on my back.”

“Okay, okay.” Peter B. mumbled, hurrying off before Mayday could begin to cry.

But Miguel didn’t react, he remained hunched over at his desk. Watching as multiple screens popped up and then closed by Lyla. His eyes had started to burn, and he began to slump over his desk and maybe, fall asleep.

But the second he felt fingers running through his hair, it caused him to abruptly stand up. He scanned every inch of the room… But he was all alone.

“Miguel?” He flinched, “Are you sure you’re okay?” He then huffed after a minute, learning that it was Lyla who just spoke to him.

“Just perfect.” He heavily sighed, “Everything is perfect. Not like I’ve lost an entire family in an instant. So yeah, I think I’m doing good.”

He hears Lyla sigh, “Get some sleep.” She said but sounded like a demand, “I won’t say it again.”

He thought about the scenario over again, what mistakes he made and how easily the warning signs showed from the start. If he had never let his guard down, his family would still be alive.

Miguel sighed once more. He had to apologize to Peter B. and fast, it wasn’t his fault, he was just worried about him.

“Now do you believe me?” You softly spoke as you watched Miguel cradle his daughter in his arms, “See? You aren’t hurting her.”

“I guess I should believe you more often.” Miguel softly spoke as she began to sleep in his arms, “Thank you, (Y/n).”

“For what?”

“For giving me a chance.”

“Anything for you, Miguel. You deserve the world.”

He shouldn’t have. He never should have believed that it was all true. Pushing away his mindset and letting him fall into the beautiful feeling of love. If he didn’t, then you’d be continuing your life that didn’t involve him.

“Stay with me, (Y/n)!” Miguel cried, his tears streaming down his face, “The ambulance is almost here! Just hold on a bit longer!” But the ambulance isn’t in his sight. So, carefully, he began to stand, still holding onto you.

“Don’t.” You cough, “I need you to promise me, Miguel.” He feels your hand come up to his face, weakly trying to wipe away the tears, “Take care of her Miguel…”

He drops to his knees, “Don’t say that!” You laid on the ground, his hands coming up to cup your face.

“She’ll need her father.”

“I can’t do this without you!”

“Let her know that her mother will always love her…” You cough, then cough again, and then again until he sees blood spilling from your mouth, “No matter what happens.”

“Stop! Please!” He begs you.

“And know that forever, I’ll always love you…” Your voice gets weaker by the second, your vision begins to fade, “No matter how far you go. I’ll be here.”

He remembered the sounds of the sirens. How hard it took him to force himself to put his mask on as he watched the medical technicians try to help you.

And so, Miguel stopped wishing for a lot of things. But there was always one wish… If he could go back in time to fix things, could he be able to have the family he wished for?

#x reader #x female reader #angst #heavy angst #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spider man #spider man x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man x y/n #spider man 2099 #spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader

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mcu-coworkers · 10 months

Text

Jealousy

Summary: Miguel can't seem to get his way and for reasons he couldn't believe.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: None(sneaky Miguel)

A/n: here is pt.3 I hope you guys enjoy I will be giving a pt.4 which will be the final part if anyone would like to be tagged just let me know and I'll be happy to! I hope I got every one who wanted to be tagged in Pt.3 there were so many of you and I just want to sat thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving my story! I hope you guys enjoy!xx

Tags list: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @m4zapan @luciiferian @stinygirl009 @anonymoussomebody345 @watamoteru @smolrain08 @amberpanda99 @hantheconqueror @mhm-ok-sure @chuckle-nuts. @a-helpless-romantic @witchofwhimsey @rin-matsuoka345-blog @cherripunch26 @anneliese500 @theleftkittycollection @ok-boke @nanushkka @gugggu6gvai @joestarbitch @distractionforyourthoughts @tanchosanke @lokiseason @hao-ming-8 @sport-lova @munixumai @capybaraaa . @dearrdarlingg @riddle-me-im-sirius @melovetitties @liyanahelena @bat1212 @christinesdemoness1958 @musicpookie @luujjvi @ilovejeansosomuch @m0chac0ffee @perrierbottleofproblems @zayxcc @shyshyshy-19 @futuristicpandakid @lilyevans1

Parts: One Two Three^ Four

Credits to the owner:)^

It had been quite a few months since you removed yourself from the spider society.

You thought that in doing so you lost your friends but Pete, Hobbie, and Gwen all stuck by your side and visited you every now and then.

Not all at once, you didn't want Miguel to figure out that they were coming to you and yell at them for it or worse, come too.

In that aspect everything was great.

When it came to your healing journey, you had good days and bad days.

Or more like bad nights.

During the day you kept busy working in your world's Alchemax, and at night you dealt with spider business which was slow this time around.

This is when you found yourself thinking about him.

The silence of the city only made your thoughts louder and all they reminded you of was Miguel.

But you hadn't given up on your promise to yourself, you would move on.

And then you decided to get a dog.

He was the best choice you could have made, your sweet little milo.

May Day absolutely loved him, she wanted to bring him to her birthday party but to be honest you didn't even know if you’d be taking yourself.

Pete didn't want to hide anything from you so he told you as soon as he found out that Miguel actually agreed to not just let him throw her party at HQ but go to it as well.

Risking him speaking to you and ruining all of your growth was not in your plans.

You had to be honest with yourself, if Miguel spoke to you with the slightest warth you knew you’d break so for your own sake staying away from him was best.

So, that's where you were with all of this, sitting on a rooftop enjoying a slice of pizza thinking about whether you should show up tomorrow or not.

Deciding to call it a night on saving the city you swung home looking forward to Milo’s greeting cuddles.

Back at HQ Miguel watched as everyone scurried to put together the decorations for May Day's birthday.

The chaos was loud and he almost regretted agreeing to it.

“Ay dios.” he mumbled as he walked past Gwen and Hobbie pretending they were there.

“So you think she’ll come? May Day is her favorite spider. She wouldn't miss it, right?” he heard Gwen say.

Suddenly he froze.

“There is a chance if you ask me. I believe in her.” Hobbie replied webbing up the sign he was putting on the wall, much easier than tape.

Miguel began walking again hoping no one would notice how he stopped to listen in on the conversation.

Walking into his office space he called for Lyla, “Give me the list of spiders coming to this party.” he said pulling up his screens.

“But boss, that's hundreds?” she asked confused but the request.

“That's fine, just give it to me, Please.” he asked, growing impatient with his AI.

“Alright calm down here it is, Who are we looking for anyways?” she said, sliding it over to him.

“No one, just making sure its a safe list.” he said looking over his shoulder.

Bles mary janes heart for added the yes, no and maybe option it made him easier to see who was actually coming.

All the names had a yes except for one, one big red MAYBE and it was next to yours.

Shoulders dropping in slight disappointment he let out a sigh.

These past months he’d been gloomy.

The only time he perked up was at the mention of your name, but sadly that's as close he got to you these days.

He found out that Pete, Hobbie, Gwen and even fucking Miles anomaly Morales snuck off to see you.

He was jealous.

He hated that you let them into your life.

Each time they came back laughing about something you said, he was jealous.

Everytime they mentioned a fun moment you shared, he was burning in jealousy.

It made him sick.

His blood boiled knowing someone else was making you laugh when he just wanted to have you to himself.

He liked it when you spent hours in his office “helping him” with reports.

He only ever gave you simple tasks just to keep you at his side.

To watch your face when you were focused on the footage, the way you bite your lip when you think you're getting close.

The way you kept eye contact and showed interest in whatever it was he said made him think about other things you could do together whilst keeping eye contact.

God, you drove him insane in the best way.

But not having you close like that was driving him insane in the worst way.

Spiders voluntarily left him alone now not wanting to cross him on a bad which now was very frequent.

The only reason he stuck around at the end of team briefings was to see if he’d hear any news on you.

He didn't think anyone noticed his intent, But then there was Jess always on his six.

She knew from day one that you had fallen, but oh was he gonna fall harder and he did.

She saw the way he searched for you in a room, how he’d ask you and only you to help him on reports.

Nothing went past her.

“Did a villain sneak onto the list?” she said, creeping up behind him.

Quickly removing the screen he looked over his shoulder letting out a simple shrug to answer her.

“Just want to see who I‘ll be dealing with for the evening.” he said trying to cover up his annoyance.

“Anyone stand out?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope. All good.” he said standing up, “ I‘ll see you tomorrow Jess, get some rest.” he said leaving his office.

Smiling to herself, Jess knew he was slowly breaking down.

All it would take to finish the job was see you.

She knew you had RSVP’d to come yesterday but she made Lyla change it just to confirm her suspicions further.

And he did just that.

----

Mentally preparing yourself for today was the hardest part.

You planned out your evening.

Go in, greet everyone, stick to Hobbie, Gwen and Miles, hold May Day, and then make the excuse that Milo had an accident and you had to get back home.

A solid plan.

Suddenly a portal opened and in walked Hobbie, “My lady.” he greeted extending an arm.

Taking his hand you stood up, “Oh, one sec.” you said as you sent a signal activating your suit.

“Woaahhh the new suit is wicked.” he said watching it go on.

“It's nano tech, you like it?” you said as it reached up to your neck before stopping.

“Killin it, as always.” he said before walking into the portal.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Be good Milo, Mommy will be home soon.” you said, patting his sleepy head before walking in.

Deep breath, here goes nothing.

Walking in you put on your brightest smile.

“Hey! There she is and get a look at this suit, this new? I like it!” Peter yelled, taking your hand and spinning you.

“Hey guys! Nice to see everyone again, Miles nice to meet you.” you said laughing.

“Nice to meet you, very nice lady, thank you for not hunting me down.” he said, shaking your hand viciously.

Laughing at your inside joke you pulled him in for a hug secretly taking a peak over his shoulder.

You could feel his stare on you, you just didn't know from where.

The party went on as planned, you stayed cautious, had a good time with your friends and held May Day until she eventually fell asleep.

Everyone told you that you had a gentle way when it came to kids so falling asleep just came to them naturally.

Taking that as your sign to leave you handed her over to Mary Jane and went to go look for Hobbie.

“Hey, has anyone seen Hobbie?” you asked not being able to find him.

“Rooftop, girly pop.” you heard Jess say as she hugged you goodbye.

“Oh great, we can open a portal there. Bye guys guess I‘ll see you around.” you said waving to the rest of the spiders.

Making your way up you looked around the rooftop to find it empty.

Huh. Maybe he went for a swing. You thought looking over the city.

He’d been told a couple times not to but that only made him do it more.

“He’s not here.” you heard behind you. Well shit.

“Thanks Jess.” you heard making you chuckle to yourself.

Of course.

“Well then it makes no use to stay up here.” you said turning to walk away.

“Wait, just give me a second.” he said, reaching out for you.

“One. Welp there is it and look I've given you five extra just by standing here.” you said sarcastically.

Trying to leave once more he actually Physically got in your way this time.

“Please.” he said trying to get you to look at him and you could've sworn you heard sincerity in there.

“Fine. talk.” you said crossing you arms sitting on the ledge trying to create some distance.

“ I am sorry,” he blurted out.

“ I don't forgive you. We done here? Great.” you said standing up ready to bee line it for the door.

Your tactics were failing you and your front could only last for so long.

“No no wait just-” he was cut off by a beeping sound coming from your suit.

It was your alarm for Milo’s dinner time.

Gasping you stood up from where you sat.

“Oh Milo.” you said turning off the alarm.

“What? Who the fuck is Milo?” he said anger began to rise up in his chest.

“Really wish we could finish this but I‘m late to a very important dinner with someone who does respect me, so excuse me.” you said finally getting past him.

Stunned by your response he watched you walk past him.

Who in the actual fuck was Milo and what rights did he have over you?

Following you back into the party he watched as you asked Pete to get you back home.

“Oh yeah sure, How's Milo by the way?” he asked while opening the portal.

Again with this fucking Milo.

“Oh he's really great, miss him more every second we're apart.” you said, putting your hands on your hips.

Time was moving real slow right about now.

But for Miguel it was moving a little too fast, he didn't want you to get back to Milo.

He wanted you here, patching things up with him.

“Gotta love Milo am I right? May Day sure does.” he said, quickly shutting up when he realized Miguel was still there.

“Well thanks for the portal, tell Mj the party was great, take care pete.” you said hugging him goodbye.

Just as you are about to be free Miguel grabs your hand.

“Will you come back, Please?” he asked, the desperation in his voice could be heard from miles away.

“ I don't think so Miguel, it took me a while to realize that there was nothing wrong with me. And Milo helped with that even if it's just been a couple of months and I‘m still getting the hang of things. He loves me for it and he needs me.” you said, smiling at the thought of your sweet little furbaby.

Standing up straight Miguel let your arm go, “Lucky Milo.” was all he said before you took it as your queue to leave.

Defeated by the night's outcome he went back into his office and let out some frustration on the nearest machine.

There it was again, feeling sick of jealousy.

Someone else had your attention, time and love.

And all he had was your rejection.

At this point in time Miguel wished he was anybody else other than himself.

And just like that jealousy started following him wherever he went, never letting him go.

All because of some Milo.

#marvel #marvel men #spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spider-man 2099 #miguel #oscar issac fic

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angel-of-the-moons · 6 months

Text

Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!

(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)

Pt 1: Link

Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Pt. 2

It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.

And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.

You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.

Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.

Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.

So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.

But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.

While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.

On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.

You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.

But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.

But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.

Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.

"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.

"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.

"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.

"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.

Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked.

"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.

"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.

You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.

"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"

Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."

"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.

"Has he ever hired any male staff?"

"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.

You gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"

"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"

You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.

But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?

It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.

"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.

"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"

"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"

Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."

You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"

Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.

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Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.

He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.

When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.

Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.

There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.

Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...

All of those were things he'd glanced at before.

But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".

The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...

He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?

Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.

Pequeña ave. Little Bird.

His Little Bird.

You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.

You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.

Yet...

His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...

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It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.

Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.

You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.

It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.

His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.

He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.

So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.

"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.

You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.

"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.

When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.

"L-Look, man! I was just--"

"Shut up." Miguel snapped.

He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.

The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.

"Y-you're--"

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.

"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."

"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.

"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.

"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"

"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.

The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.

When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.

Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.

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Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.

He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".

It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.

Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.

He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.

He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.

When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.

Perfect.

You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.

You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.

"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.

He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.

Spider-Man was a good guy, right?

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Pt. 3: Link

#yandere!miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara

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t-lostinworlds · 8 months

Text

The Grump & The Drunk | Miguel O'Hara

》 PAIRING: miguel o'hara x spider-woman!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: grumpy x (drunk) sunshine, fluff, humor

》 SUMMARY: You were clingy, feisty with no filter when you're drunk. Miguel had front row seat of it—literally. You're lucky he didn't mind. In fact, he was glad it was him and not anyone else. The thought made him seethe in jealousy even though you technically were not his girl. But he wasn't sure if that still rang true after tonight's drunken confession (or that make-out session).

》 WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, soft!miguel (also emotionally constipated!miguel but what's new), r calls him miggy to tease him, height difference (he's 6'9" he's an effin giant), r thirsts over him in front of his face lol, some innuendos, brief argument about feelings, overall very cute and fluffy.

》 WORD COUNT: 6.1k+

A/N: can anyone guess what movie i watched recently. is anyone surprised that i liked the grump with a side of trauma lmao. ANYWAY. this is the first time i'm writing miguel so pls be nice. wrote this fairly quickly too and it's barely proofread sooo. but i hope you still enjoy it!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

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It was late.

Quiet.

Well, for now, at least.

Moments like these were rare to come by, where there wasn't much to do except to let things happen. The multiverse was stable enough not to need any intervention.

It usually was the epitome of the calm before the storm.

Nevertheless, everyone—well, those left at HQ and weren't on stakeout—in the Spider Society took advantage of it.

There was always some sort of activity going on during these types of days. Most of it were small get-togethers in the cafeteria, or perhaps a low-key karaoke in the cinema room. Other times it was much more on the nose.

Right now, there was a party held on the rooftop.

The music was blaring—muffled for him, thanks to his soundproofing—as it jumped from genre to genre depending on who successfully bribed the DJ.

It was rowdy—that he was sure of. What, with the modified alcohol strong enough to affect any Spider-Person as if they weren't enhanced, how could it not be?

Miguel wasn't one for festivities. Not to mention, strobe lights always gave him bad migraines. So after showing face for about ten minutes—he wouldn't have shown up at all but was begged to go by someone he couldn't say no to—he decided to call it a night.

Well, back to his…Spider-Cave.

He was sure there would be copyright issues if that was made official.

But it was dubbed by you so it simply stuck.

You, with bright eyes and a sweet smile as you pleaded for him to come with you to the rooftop even if it was "just a couple minutes, please?"

You, who wore a simple yet gorgeous black dress as you all but dragged him into the elevator, bouncing with excitement because it was going to be your first party here at HQ.

You, who enthusiastically sipped on your Pink Señorita—a margarita with pink lemonade—giddy to feel the buzz of the alcohol after years of being unable to.

You, who was so joyful and uncaring as you danced to your heart's content when your favorite song came on, right in the middle of the floor, shining as bright as the sun as the others revolved around you.

Miguel only watched from the sidelines, his chest aching with longing. So close but out of reach because he couldn't.

He'd only put a damper on your light.

It wasn't a matter of if, it was a matter of when.

He couldn't do that to you.

Soft spot.

Miguel had very few of those.

Anyone who dared to give their opinion on his life with the bravery to say it right to his face said one was occupied by you.

Some would even imply that you held the biggest one.

And sure, the first time Lyla scouted you and suggested for you to be recruited into the Spider Society he might've said yes far too quickly than he should've. But that was only because he saw the way you took down a sector of the Maggia all on your own. He was thoroughly impressed.

There were also times when he let you get away with annoying him scot-free. Whether that was teasing, various nicknames, talking his ear out for hours as you refused to leave him alone to do work, and sometimes even pranks. If it were any other person doing the same things you would've done, they would be leaving the premises at least fearing their life.

He also let you spend time around his magic carpet—as you so unoriginally named it. You were constantly testing those copyright issues—quite often to the point that some of your stuff had migrated the space. There were little trinkets scattered around, evidence that you'd been here.

Miguel finally bought a desk chair perfectly suited for his big and tall stature all because you complained about not having anywhere to sit while you were up here with him.

It was more your chair than it was his, to be honest, since you definitely sat on it far more than he had.

Sure, he could've bought an extra one for you but he didn't want to encourage the teasing—that had been nonstop since you waltzed into his life—that he was playing favorites.

He preferred to stand while he worked, anyway.

Fine.

He could kinda see why many people would say he had a soft spot for you.

Speaking of…

Miguel could hear you before he could even see you.

You were giggling to yourself, followed by poor attempts at whispered apologies when you knocked over something or bumped against something else.

It made him worry a little.

Sure, you were too enthusiastic for his liking, all optimism and sunshine despite everything that you had gone through—it harshly contrasted with his personality.

But he wouldn't particularly classify you as clumsy.

He waited for you to call for him, anticipating which way you'd say it this time around. Your most recent one was: "O'Hara, O'Hara, let down your floating chair."

You thought you were really funny with that one.

But silence.

No cheeky way of asking him to let you come up.

Where'd you go?

Suddenly, he heard a very annoyed and frustrated groan, prolonged and all dramatic.

Then, that familiar thwip rang in the air.

You couldn't have been more impatient.

He was aware of exactly where you were, shooting your webs in random directions so long as you hit a column that took you higher and higher. But even if he didn't have his enhanced senses, your constant giggling would give you away.

Yet as loud as you had already been, your shriek was even louder.

Miguel didn't hesitate to jump off the platform.

His heart was pounding as he clocked your falling figure, adrenaline and fear all at once.

You looked dazed in your freefall, unable to comprehend that your cartridges were empty as you kept trying to shoot your webs.

In the nick of time, he caught you by the waist—upside down.

He let out a huge sigh of relief at the same time you turned into heaps of giggles.

"This isn't how I imagined us getting into this position," you snorted as if you weren't dangling a couple of feet above the ground, feet in the air, arms limp and swaying. "Wow…your thigh is bigger than my head!"

Miguel's whole body warmed, not only from your comments but also because you were still in your dress.

Thank fuck it wasn't a loose skirt.

Not that he would ever look. He might be a bit of a grump—temperamental at times, he'll admit—but he was still a gentleman.

Though he was glad you couldn't see the obvious fluster on his face given your current upside-down predicament.

He'd never hear the end of it.

"I'm flipping you around," he said.

"Like a pancake?"

He didn't answer. He simply tossed you into the air, your squeal echoing off the walls. He caught you again but the right way up this time—your hands clinging onto his shoulders, legs around his waist.

Miguel tried not to dwell on your closeness as he shot a web and pulled you both back up.

"You flipped me like a pancake!" you giggled, stumbling onto the platform once you reached it.

What on earth is going on with you?

One look in your eyes, his unspoken question was swiftly answered.

"Widely irresponsible to swing while drunk," he reprimanded, arms crossed over his chest.

You blew a raspberry, waving your hand dismissively. "Am not drunk."

"Then why did I have to save you from falling head-first into the ground?"

"I slipped!"

"You could've just called me to let the platform down."

"And have it take so fucking long?"

Miguel blinked.

Oh you were so drunk.

"I know it's an intimidating tactic or whatever the fuck it is you're doing. Either way, it's a choice, but it doesn't have to be so damn slow, Miggy!"

"I told you to stop calling me that," he said, no heat in his tone. He simply couldn't stand the way his heart did a funny thing whenever he'd hear that nickname slip past your lips.

"Sorry, sir," you said, sarcasm lacing each letter.

Miguel took a deep breath.

"Don't call me that, either," he said, voice an octave deeper.

You rolled your eyes, completely oblivious to the effect you had on him. "Someone's extra grumpy today."

"Night."

"What?"

"It's night."

"Pfft, you know, you should loosen up your suit," you said, waving at all of him. "Maybe the tightness is making you grumpier somehow, suffocating your muscles and everything."

"The tightness of my suit has nothing to do with my mood."

"Could've fooled me," you scoffed, glaring at him from head to toe. "You're probably chafing in weird places and it's making you irritable. I bet—no, I know you're naked underneath because even though I haven't seen you naked I can still see…stuff, many stuff, big stuff, you know, imagination and not leaving any and shit."

"Dios mío," he grumbled in disbelief, rubbing a palm over his warm face. "How drunk are you?"

"Zero percent-o, Miguelito."

He bit back a smile.

"Could've fooled me," he said, raising a brow at you.

"Don't you dare throw my words back at me," you warned, attempting to appear threatening with your chest puffed out, chin raised as you got all up in his face. You slumped with a pout a second later. "You are so fucking tall!"

"And you are so drunk."

"M'not!"

"Uh-huh, sure," he hummed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh I am very sure—Miguel, can you sit down," you complained, brows deeply furrowed as you tried grabbing onto his shoulders, urging him to settle on the chair.

He decided to mess with you a little, planting his feet firmly so you weren't able to budge him even with your enhanced strength.

Your inebriated state wasn't helping your case.

It was the first time he ever got to see you annoyed and he actually found it cute. What, with your brows deeply furrowed and that pout in full play, huffing and puffing as you pushed at his chest with your full body strength, how could he not?

"Miggy sit the fuck down!" you growled.

He resisted the urge to laugh, throwing his hands up as he obliged, "Okay, okay, I'm sitting."

Now, he was the one looking up at you.

Yet you still looked frustrated.

"Is that not any better?" he asked, confused.

"No," you mumbled, glaring down at him, pout still prominent.

The next thing he knew, you were already grabbing onto his shoulders, pushing yourself up the chair.

You sat right on his lap.

Miguel was rarely surprised these days, considering what he did for a living.

But he sure as hell wasn't prepared to have you on top of him.

He could almost feel his brain short-circuit, taking a bit more time and effort for it to get its bearings back into place.

But then, you turned shy, eyes blinking at him all wide with shock as if you didn't know that climbing onto his lap resulted in him and you being so close.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Hello," he murmured, fingers twitching to hold you. He gripped the armrest instead. "Can I ask what exactly it is you're doing?"

"What…was I doing?" you questioned, almost to yourself, scanning the nearly non-existent space between you both before your face lit up. "Oh! I'm trying to talk to you without spraining my neck, genius."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah! You try talking to a six-foot-nine Adonis of a man and see if your neck doesn't hurt after a while."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Adonis, huh?"

"Not like that," you quickly said, voice shyer. "I mean like…huge, muscular, a-and plump."

"Plump?"

"Yeah!" You nodded enthusiastically, pressing your palms right on top his chest, one on each pec. "You've got plump boobs and ass."

He almost choked on air.

"What has gotten into you?" he asked, thoroughly amused.

"You, hopefully."

"Diosito, ayúdame," he muttered, resisting the temptation to take your word for it. You were drunk. You had no idea what you were saying.

Miguel shook his head when you stared at him confused, still slow on your Spanish. Then again, he'd only ever taught you a few phrases so far.

"How many lemonades did you have?" he asked instead.

"Why are you asking me so many questions!" you groaned, head thrown back as dramatically as you could. "It's my turn to ask questions!"

"Fine," he sighed, ignoring the urge to nip at your exposed skin. He heavily disregarded the thoughts that brewed in his head from the way you were innocently squirming on him, trying to get more comfortable, your skirt hiking up in the process.

He was good at keeping his composure, mastered it after years. He could do it for a couple of minutes more.

"Why'd you disappear?" you sighed.

"Too bright. Too loud."

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

"You were having fun. Didn't want to spoil your mood," he stated the obvious. "Besides, my absence didn't affect anything."

"But it did," you insisted, bottom lip jutting out. "Was gonna ask you to dance."

His brow rose at that. "And what made you think I'll say yes?"

"You always say yes," you said, shrugging as if it was a known fact to the universe.

If it was you asking? Maybe.

He honestly felt a little glad he left the party early. He wouldn't even dare to imagine the outcome if he was seen out on the dance floor with you.

He would much prefer it with no audience—just you and him.

"I don't always say yes."

You narrowed your eyes, obviously not believing him by one bit.

But you didn't bother to argue.

Instead, you plopped forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders, face pressed against his neck.

Miguel froze.

He honestly didn't know what to do with himself.

Well, he wanted to do so many things at once, he just didn't know if he should—too many boundaries, too dangerous to cross.

A battle between logic and emotions.

You chose for him, though.

"Will you just—" You pulled his arms off the armrest, wrapping it around you instead. "Want cuddles, please."

How could he say no?

And for the first time in a long while, Miguel finally let himself go.

Body relaxing into the seat, he pulled you a little closer, palms rubbing soft patterns on your back as he pressed his cheek against the side of your head.

It had been so long since he'd cuddled with someone, so maybe his judgment was a little skewed. But still, he didn't remember it feeling this lovely—not until now.

Or maybe because it was you.

And if he didn't know any better, he'd say you were purring.

"Comfortable?" he hummed, rubbing the tip of his nose against your crown.

You nodded, taking a deep breath, humming soon after, "I've always wondered just how nice you smell up close."

He couldn't stop the flush that crept up his face.

"You're warm," you whispered, rubbing your face against his neck like a cat.

It made him wonder if you'd been hanging around Spider-Cat too much—or Meows Morales.

He'd rather not think about it.

Instead, he commanded his suit to uncover his hands, one less barrier between his palm and your skin. The fabric of your dress did very little to conceal your warmth as he continued giving you comforting rubs.

It made you bury yourself deeper into his arms as if you could go any further.

"This feels nice," you murmured, voice muffled against him.

He hummed in agreement.

You both settled into a comfortable silence after that.

But if he listened closely, the steady thump of your heartbeat was soft against his ears. He found the sound relaxing, and the minuscule romantic part of him imagined it was syncing with his own.

A peaceful rhythm.

Your soft breaths tickled his skin as you snuggled closer, his smile unabashedly painted on his face.

No one was here to see it, anyway.

After a few more moments of calmness, he assumed you'd already fallen asleep. He was already preparing himself to carry you across universes and back home when you suddenly spoke up,

"Can I touch your fangs?"

He blinked.

"What?"

You shifted, pulling back a little so that you could meet his eyes, face so close your noses almost touched.

"Your fangs," you repeated.

Before he could even respond, your hands were already on his face, one thumb lifting the corner of his lip while your other hand found his chin, holding him still.

"Wanna feel how sharp they are," you muttered, opting to use both hands now to pull his lips and expose his canines.

"Very sharp and dangerous," he chuckled despite himself, gently grabbing your wrists to stop your prodding. "Just take my word for it."

"You're pretty when you smile," you said, beaming and proud as if seeing his fangs was an accomplishment.

He rolled his eyes, unable to stop himself from grinning.

You smiled wider in return.

Holding your hands between you both, he absentmindedly started stroking your palms with his thumb.

It guided your gaze toward it.

"Your hands are naked!" you gasped, grabbing his wrists and bringing his fingers up to your face, wonder and awe in your eyes as if it was the first time you'd seen them without cover—it wasn't.

You'd seen him in casual clothes before.

Miguel couldn't stop his laugh from escaping even if he tried.

"I didn't know you could do that!" you said, fully amazed before your brows furrowed, pout coming back. "Why can't my suit do that? I have to get all naked just to feel my fingers."

He didn't dwell on that picture.

"I'll tweak it for you if you'd like," he said instead.

Your whole face brightened.

"Really? You'd do that?" you giddily gasped, bringing his hands up to press your palms against his like a double high five. The way your hand was much smaller than his made his heart warm.

He interlaced your fingers together. "Really."

"We're going to make a suit together!" you laughed, lovely and sweet. "That's a big big step."

He chuckled, gaze carefully tracing your beautiful features, each curve and divot glowing with happiness. He felt tempted to count every perfectly imperfect mark that littered your skin, wanting to know if it was there naturally, or if there was a story behind it.

It was supposed to be a swift glance.

He didn't mean to settle too long on your lips.

Nor did he plan to get caught.

"Stop staring," you whispered shyly.

"You're right in front of my face," he deflected, eyes back on yours.

"I know but…" You trailed off, shifting slightly, the tips of your noses brushing in the process.

"But?" he softly prodded.

"You're looking at me weird."

"How so?"

"Like…" you started, voice dropping into a whisper as if you were disclosing a secret. "You want to kiss me."

He couldn't even bother to deny the truth.

"I'll stop staring," he hummed, words holding no weight as he never removed his eyes from you.

"No!" you protested, turning flustered a second later, shyer when he smirked.

"I thought it was weird?" he teased.

"'Weird' was the wrong word," you said, scrunching your nose in thought. Adorable. "I meant different."

"How different?"

"I don't know," you admitted, leaning a little closer. "But I like it."

"Oh, do you, now?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, hands finding their way to gently cup his cheeks.

Miguel leaned into your touch with a soft smile. "Now who's staring?"

"It's because I want to kiss you," you admitted shamelessly. Your fingers traced the outline of his lips, your eyes following their path.

Miguel kissed your fingertips.

You leaned down and kissed him.

He gasped, eyes wide in shock.

A split second, they fluttered shut, head tilting, whole body melting as he kissed you back.

He spent countless amounts of time daydreaming about this moment, different scenarios, wondering what you tasted like, how it'd make him feel. But fuck—nothing could ever compare to the real thing.

It was so many things all at once.

Relief, hunger, satisfaction, desperation, fondness, fear, mind stopping, heart beating faster, soft lips, warm skin, so lovely, so sweet, so fucking addicting.

Now that he'd gotten a taste, he couldn't get enough.

Miguel cupped the back of your neck, arm snaking around your waist to keep you steady, close.

Your hand held onto his shoulder, the other finding its way into his hair, your fingers combing through the strands.

He lost any sense of control when you pulled.

Gripping your hips, he teased his tongue against the seam of your lips, slipping it in the second you opened up for him.

He groaned at your taste.

You whimpered in response.

The sound made him want to devour you.

But then you started moving your hips.

It was awakening, in more ways than one.

But the rational part of him prevailed because it was for your sake.

He pulled away, gently grabbing your chin, when you tried going back in.

"Slow down," he rasped, holding your waist and keeping you still. "Estás borracho, corazón."

"You know I don't understand," you breathed out, chest heaving, lips all plump and tempting.

"You're drunk, sweetheart," he clarified.

"I don't care," you whined, squirming.

He cupped your face in both hands.

"I do."

You pouted.

"Don't do that."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Don't pout," he sighed.

"I'm not pouting," you denied.

"You are," he said, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.

Your pout only turned more prominent.

The beep of the clock broke him out of his trance.

It was midnight.

Miguel stood up, taking you with him before gently urging you to stand on your own two feet.

"It’s late. You should go," he said monotonously and stepped back.

You frowned.

He looked away.

"Why do you always do this?"

You were frustrated—no, you were getting angry.

He turned his back on you, eyes on the holograms even though there was nothing worth looking at.

"Do what?" he said, acting oblivious.

"Confuse the fuck out of me," you said, loud with frustration. "You act cold and distant one minute and then you're being nice and sweet the next. You keep your distance but then call me all these cute nicknames sometimes—and yes, you say them in Spanish but I asked Lyla about it once and she told me what they meant."

Traitor—thrown under the bus by his own invention.

"But then sometimes you give in and we get closer but the second I chip your walls you push me away," you continued, getting angrier by the second. "I thought things were getting better between us. But now, you won't even fucking look at me even after we just kissed—"

"You kissed me."

"You kissed me back!" you screamed.

It took him by surprise.

You had never raised your voice, much less yelled at anyone.

But honestly? There was no one else who deserved it more than him.

Slowly turning around, his heart sank when he met your tear-filled eyes.

By instinct, he reached out to try and comfort you.

It only made you angrier.

"You're doing it again!" you growled and stepped back, hands balled into fists.

Miguel stopped, hands up in surrender.

"I'm just trying to protect you," he softly said.

"Protect me?" you scoffed. "Or protect yourself?"

"I'm doing what's best for you," he reasoned, wanting nothing more than to wipe your tears away and kick his own ass for making you cry in the first place.

"You don't know that!"

"Maybe," he said, hands dropping to his sides, dejected. "But I know myself.

"Someone like me shouldn't be with someone as pure and as bright as you."

"No one gets to decide who I should and shouldn't be with," you gritted, taking long strides until you were squaring up to him. "No one but me. That's my choice."

Despite your boiling anger, despite the fact that you were glaring at him in a way that should scare him, despite the absolute animosity that lingered in your voice, your next words couldn't have brought the most opposite reaction from him.

"And I want to be with you."

Happiness, warmth, euphoria—the few things that made his heart burst at the seams.

But Miguel shook his head, eyes dropping to the ground, quickly stomping down emotions.

"I'm only going to end up hurting you," he sighed, pacing back and forth as he rubbed a frustrated hand over his warm face.

"I trust you that you won't."

"Well, you shouldn't," he insisted, eyes filled with longing, wanting to pull you close and taste your lips again despite his words saying otherwise. "You deserve so much better."

"If you believe that so fucking much then be better."

With that, you turned on your heel.

So many things flashed before his eyes, one of which was if he let you walk away now, he was going to lose you, for good.

He fucking panicked.

So much so that he jumped—right over your head.

You squeaked in shock when he landed in front of you.

Miguel didn't waste a second.

He grabbed your face and kissed you senseless.

You stumbled back, Miguel quickly webbing the chair, pulling it just in time for you to land on the cushion.

Not once did his lips leave yours.

He was bending over, hands grabbing the backrest, trapping you against it. You cupped his face, a shiver running down his spine when you trailed your hands down his chest.

But then you gently pushed him back.

He ignored the ache in his heart as he pulled away.

Miguel dropped to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his, placing a kiss on each palm before he pressed it against his cheeks.

"I want to be with you so badly," he confessed, eyes never leaving yours so you could see it—all of him at your mercy.

"But I'm scared," he whispered, leaning into your touch. "I'm terrified that all I'll ever do is fail you, that I will never end up being the man that you deserve."

"How would you know if you won't try?" you said, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones with the sweetest smile. "And I know you think otherwise, but you deserve to be happy, too."

Miguel didn't know what to say.

So he didn't.

He kissed you instead.

It was slow, reassuring, a soft touch of your lips on his, but never less passionate.

He would've opted to deepen it a little more, but then you downright yawned between the kiss.

And here he thought you couldn't get cuter.

"You need sleep," he chuckled.

"I don't wanna go home," you grumbled, burying yourself into his chest. "It's too far."

"My room, then?" he offered.

You quickly nodded. He could almost feel you grinning against his suit.

He kissed your forehead. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Bed?" you gasped, emerging out of your hiding spot to wriggle your brows at him teasingly. "Gosh, take me out to dinner first."

"What am I going to do with you," he grumbled, shaking his head

"Many things, I hope."

He rolled his eyes, pressing the button to let the platform down.

"Miggy, can you give me a piggyback ride?" you asked, pouting for good measure. "I'm tired."

He sighed, turned around and crouched down.

"He doesn't always say yes he said," you giggled.

"Are you getting on or not?"

"Okay, okay, geez." You grabbed his shoulders and hoisted yourself on his back, arms around his neck, legs around his waist. Cheek pressed against his shoulder, you grinned. "Always eager to have me ride you, huh?"

His face warmed.

"I'll drop you if you won't stop."

"No you won't."

Miguel loosened his grip.

You yelped, quickly tightening your hold around him.

"You're so mean!"

He chuckled, turning his head as much as he could and puckering up his lips.

You giggled as you gave him a chaste kiss, pressing your cheek in between his shoulder blades with a deep sigh.

"Lyla, please send extra blankets and pillows to my quarters," he said, smiling to himself when you suddenly got heavier on his back.

He was sure you'd already fallen asleep.

Lyla appeared in front of him a second later, her grin far too wide for his liking.

"Not a single word about this to anyone," he interrupted whatever it was she was starting to say. "Please. Just…give us time to figure this out."

"Gotcha, boss," she said. "But for the record, I'm doing it for her."

"Good."

•••

You squinted at the bright glare that roused you from your sleep. You always close the curtains, it was part of your nightly routine. Why did you forget it this time?

Sitting up, you flopped back down with a deep groan.

Your head was pounding.

Hungover.

You didn't miss this part of drinking at all.

After a few moments, you slowly opened your eyes, the ceiling looking too unfamiliar.

Glancing down, the color of the sheets wasn't the sky blue you recently changed it into. As a matter of fact, that bed was much bigger than you were used to.

This wasn't your room.

In fact, this wasn't your world.

"What did I do?" you whispered, glancing at the nightstand. You saw the tall glass of water first, then the few pills of aspirin.

It was the framed picture that made you realize where you were.

This was Miguel's room.

Memories from last night came rushing in like a train, using your brain as railroad tracks which made your headache worse.

You quickly gulped down the water and meds, throwing the blankets off of you only to flush at the discovery.

Boxer shorts and a huge jacket—you were wearing his clothes.

Stumbling into the en suite, your heart warmed at the extra toothbrush that was already waiting for you.

You quickly made yourself as presentable as possible before making your way to the only place you knew he would be at this time of day.

First to clock in, last to clock out.

The platform was already down when you got there.

It was as if he was waiting for you.

"Morning, sleepy head," Miguel greeted without looking away from the screens.

"Good morning," you responded shyly. You picked at the hem of his jacket, second-guessing your choice of not changing out of it.

You honestly didn't know where to even begin.

As if sensing your discomfort, he turned his chair to face you.

Something flashed in his eyes for a brief moment, something primal as he regarded your figure. It was gone the next second you might as well have imagined it.

"Come here," he murmured, reaching out both hands for you to take.

Walking over to him, you slipped your hands into his, the platform beginning its ascend once you did.

You gasped in surprise when he suddenly pulled you onto his lap.

He placed your hands on his shoulders, his strong fingers curling around your waist.

You couldn't look him far too long in the eyes.

It felt like you'd combust if you did.

"What, now you're shy?" he teased, smirking freely. It was a good improvement, but you didn't know if your heart could take it having him smile at you like that. "You didn't seem to have a problem with this last night."

"Don't remind me," you groaned, hiding your face between your hands.

Miguel chuckled.

God this was so new.

It felt like you were drunk all over again—no sense of what was real and what was all in your head.

But with the soft squeeze on your waist, and the gentle fingers circling around your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face, you knew this was as real as it was going to get.

"What else do you remember?" he asked, thumbs drawing random shapes on the insides of your wrist.

You scrunched up your face. "Everything?"

He hummed, leaning a little closer to nudge the tip of your nose with his, urging you to keep your eyes on him.

"I have no idea how to do this…relationship thing. It's been a while," he started, a faint blush on his cheeks that made him so much more endearing. "But I'm willing to try this—with you."

Your heart grew ten times its size, you were sure of it.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, kissing your knuckles. "If you'll let me."

"We'll figure it out together," you said, holding his face in your hands with a smile.

"I'd like that," he whispered, grin turning cheeky. "On one condition."

"What?" Your brows furrowed.

"Morning kisses are mandatory."

You let out a hearty laugh, sound quick to turn into giggles when Miguel pressed his lips against yours.

It didn't take long for things to get heated.

You were picking up right where you left off last night, a little further given that alcohol wasn't in the equation anymore.

Yet with the way Miguel's hands were roaming your body, grabbing and groping whatever he could reach, tongue hot and heavy as it slipped past your lips, his deep groans vibrating against your palms as you rested it on his chest, his kisses moving their way onto the warm skin on your neck, softly nipping, tongue soothing—it was far more dizzying than any modified alcohol and then some.

It was a familiar voice that broke you off this time.

"Ahem! Uh, hello, I'm here!" It echoed from below. "The baby, too, by the way. So make sure you're…uhm, decent when you bring that thing down."

Miguel pulled away with an annoyed groan, eyes landing on the floating figure that appeared behind you.

If he could kill Lyla with one look—

"What?" she exclaimed. "I didn't say anything!"

"She didn't! You guys just weren't particularly…quiet," Peter B. defended on her behalf, chuckling. "And this place has the worst echo."

"Yeah, that's your fault," you whispered against his lips, pecking him one last time before getting off his lap.

He wasn't particularly happy about that either.

You pushed the button before he could say anything, the platform descending, smiling at him all innocent.

"I'm not done with you," he warned, voice deep with lust it made your whole body tingle.

"I'm counting on it." You winked, hopping off the platform before he could even respond.

Mayday landed in your arms before you could take a step.

"Hi, beautiful girl!" you greeted cheerfully, her chubby cheeks lifting as she giggled at you. "

"I wouldn't rush it," you heard Peter say.

"What?" Miguel gritted, still so annoyed.

"I know you're thinking about having a baby with her."

You bit back a laugh.

The utter silence from Miguel made it so much harder.

"You know nothing," he grumbled.

"Maybe," Peter chuckled, patting him on the back. "About time you made your move though."

Miguel grumbled something incoherent and turned back towards the screen.

Still, you caught the smile he was trying to hide.

It made you warm and fuzzy inside.

You walked over to him with Mayday in your arms. "Say hi to Uncle Miggy!"

Always your best accomplice, Mayday made grabby hands at him, blubbering, "Middy! Middy!"

Miguel sighed, carefully taking Mayday from you, before giving her a soft smile—the only other person he wasn't grumpy to. "Hello, peanut."

She giggled in response, climbing onto his shoulders, settling on them with her arms above his head. She always loved being so tall.

Miguel shot you a glare then, no heat to it at all. If anything, it was filled with pure fondness.

You grinned at him.

"You're a bad influence," he whispered to you.

"I don't think I am, Middy," you teased, standing on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his lips.

The way he suddenly turned flustered was adorable.

And when Mayday made a yucky sound, and Peter B. laughed, you knew your work of teasing him for the day was done.

"Come on, bub, let's go get you ice cream," you called, the little girl giggling in delight before jumping into your arms. You sent Miguel a wink before leaving him to deal with his beloved friend's teasing. Peter was practically waiting for this moment.

Many people regretted what they had done while drunk, especially when it involved something embarrassing.

Not you.

You regret nothing at all.

✫*｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated!

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#tg&td #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x female reader #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara reader insert #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #spider-man: across the spider-verse #atsv #my writing

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keenzinemugstudent · 10 months

Text

Y/n: Okay people this is important so listen up! It's my birthday in a three days and I do not want anything related to Miguel in his birthday suit! If y'all didn't hear that the first time let me say it again *takes out 🎙️* I DO NOT WANT ANYONE SENDING ME ANY PICTURES OF MIGUEL TIED UP , OILED UP AND BUTT BOOTY NAKED!!!! Thank you have a nice day everyone love ya!

Peter b: .....

Jess: ....

Lyla: ....

Ben: ....

Miguel : *face red in embarrassment* ........... I'm going to shocking kill them.

Hobie: Well at least I know what to get them for their birthday now.

Miles: Hobie no!

Gwen: I thought they wanted a cat

Pavitr: Miguel in cat ears?

Lyla: Let me write that down

Margo: Y'all do realize that Miguel is like running on all fours looking for them right?

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exhaslo · 4 months

Note

hi I love your work <3

Is it okay to write a miguel o’hara x reader and the reader has a personality similar to regina george and he brat tames her + an age gap <3!

I can try! I haven't seen Mean Girls in a hot minute, but I'm sure I remember her personality. Totally going to have some fun with this~

Also, so sorry for how late this is!!! Trying to catch up with the sea of requests now!!!

Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, oral (f receiving), teasing, orgasm denial, dirty talk

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miguel let out a scowl as he watched the new recruits go through a new training session both Peter and Lyla had begged him for. Something about helping the new Spiders learn how to do certain things and yada yada. Miguel only agreed just to shut Peter up and to have Lyla stop shoving the program in his face every five minutes.

However, Miguel was quick to learn that he should have turned this offer down.

The main reason for this grim thought was you. Miguel had been watching you since the training began. You were one of the brand new Spider women who joined and were a rookie. It had only been a month since you took on the role of 'Spider Queen'.

A name so suiting for you. It wasn't long until you took control of the training session and had everyone nearly serving you. For someone only five years younger than him (23), you were the textbook definition of a brat.

--------

"Oh my gosh! You did such a good job with that backflip!" You gasped, cheering on a fellow Spider.

"Thanks! This was my first time," The Peter said with a laugh. You just smiled and waved until he left,

"Ugh, the form was so off. Hopefully he keeps practicing." You groaned lowly.

"May I remind you that this training is for newbies? Including you?" Miguel said with a harsh tone.

Your eyes sparkled as you turned towards Miguel. The leader of the Spider Society, the head honcho, the man you were hoping to try and win over. It was no lie that when you first laid eyes on him you knew that you wanted him to be yours. Who cares if he was little older than you?

"Sorry, can't help it. I was a cheerleader so my flexibility is higher than most." You cooed, rubbing your arm against his. Miguel scoffed,

"Enough to dodge a bunch of Goblin bombs?"

"...Yes...?" You questioned, unsure of what the hell a Goblin was. Miguel just smirked,

"We'll see about that."

Your jaw nearly dropped as you watched him walk away. That man was so hot. You were already wet in your suit. Letting out a small huff, you knew that you had to make him yours somehow. You just needed to keep winning him over.

--------

Miguel was about to lose his patience with you. It had been only two months since you joined and while yes, you were doing better than the other rookies, you were still a headache. It felt like you made it your life purpose to give Miguel more sexual frustration.

The man wanted to put you in your place so bad.

Every time you had something smart to say, Miguel had to hold himself back from disciplining you. Instead, he would say something equally snarky to get you to stop, but that was never enough. You kept getting bolder with your antics.

It started with your suit being too tight. Or a casual rip here and there. Then you kept offering to help Miguel, your arm slipping and you falling on him every now and then. It was torturing him and Miguel was unsure if he could hold himself back the next time you do something like that.

What's worse? Miguel enjoyed your brattiness. He had already thought of so many ways to fuck you into submission. He imagined how'd you look with his cock inside that smart mouth of yours. Or your slutty moans and begs for him to fuck you.

Miguel was just waiting for you to slip.

Waiting for you to finally learn you lesson.

--------

It was going to be just another average day for you. You had given yourself a pre-masturbation session to get you in the groove to bother Miguel. You were hot and ready to hear that man groan in frustration.

Entering his office with a skip, you smiled devilishly as you saw Miguel brooding up in his platform. With a snap of your wrist, you swung up to where he was. The second you landed, you heard that wonderful groan that sent a waterfall to your panties.

"Awe, missed me that much?" You cooed. Miguel glared towards you, his red orbs more prominate than before,

"(Y/N), I have a very small amount of patience right now." He hissed. You huffed childishly and sat on his desk, your legs slightly spread,

"But I need the attention~!"

--------

Miguel shivered as he caught whiff of your arousal. Oh no, he could not control himself. You needed to learn when to leave him alone, and Miguel was finally going to show you.

Webbing your hands to his desk, Miguel grabbed you by the hair and grazed his fangs against your neck,

"¿Por qué no puedes escuchar por una vez? (Why can't you fucking listen for once?)" He groaned lowly, licking up to your lips, "I'm going to teach you some manners."

"I'm such a good leaner," You said with a smirk.

Miguel just snorted before crashing his lips into yours. Hopefully you were a fast learner too, but Miguel was going to make sure to torment you. His hands already against your clothed cunt, rubbing circles around your clit as he kissed you,

"You like being a fucking brat, do you?" Miguel hissed as he watched you twitch and squirm, "No one's ever stopped to show you how to behave."

"Why don't we release my hands and I can be a really good girl for you?" You hummed. Miguel chuckled as he pushed you down against his desk,

"It wouldn't be a lesson if you helped," He used his talons to rip a straight line down your suit to your cunt, "My, what a sight. Already twitching for me?"

"What can I say? You're a good teacher."

Miguel just smirked as he spread your legs out for him. Your juices still flowing so nicely. You had already given yourself some pleasure before hand, but that was not enough. Glancing up at you, Miguel smirked as he licked and sucked against your clit.

"Hah~ W-Wait-" You gasped, body twitching as you felt slightly sensitive after abusing your clit yourself.

"Be a good girl and shh," Miguel hummed.

His tongue swirled and sucked against your clit. Your body squirming and trying to move against your face. Your moans were getting louder as you started to whimper his name. Your pussy started to clench as you arched your back. Right as you were about to cum, Miguel stopped and pulled away.

"N-No...I-I was...almost there..." You cried, trying to rub your legs for friction. Miguel kept them apart, watching you struggle,

"You haven't been behaving lately. Why should I give you that release?" Miguel asked. You panted heavily, feeling your high slowly disappear,

"I-I'm sorry! Please, Miguel! I'll be good!" You begged.

Miguel thought for a moment and returned to your dripping pussy. He licked against your clit, enjoying your desperate moans. Moving his tongue down towards your hole, Miguel resisted a smirk as he cried out his name. Once you were about to reach your high again, he stopped and moved away.

"Miguel! Please!"

"Will you promise to behave? If you don't I'll have to keep teaching you these lessons?"

"Yes! Yes! Please, Miguel! Yes!" You cried.

Miguel chuckled, watching you struggle after being denied of your orgasm twice. He finally decided to give you what you want and returned to eating you out. Despite your bratty behavior, you tasted so sweet.

Feeling you grind against his face, Miguel swirled his tongue inside your hole as you finally cam against his face. Licking up your juices and his face, Miguel moved away from your cunt. He wiped his face and watched you catch your breathe.

"Good girl. I'll give you a new suit, but if you come back and behave, I'll give you something even sweeter." Miguel hummed as he freed your hands.

-------

You laid against his desk, breathing heavily and feeling fucked out. Who would have thought Miguel was so talented with his mouth. If only he didn't torture you. Honestly, now you weren't sure if you should still be a brat, or behave to finally fuck him.

Slowly sitting up, you watched as Miguel returned to work by getting you a suit. A slight smirk formed against your lips as you made your way over to him, your hands reaching his buldge,

"I think you need some attention too~"

"Now, this isn't behaving, is it?"

"Guess I need another lesson?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed!! Again, so sorry that this was late!!!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader

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yandere-sins · 9 months

Text

Control (Miguel O'Hara x Reader)

a/n: Finally I got to write about him! Thank Tiktok and music for inspiration, because otherwise I would have been sitting on such an amazing character for even longer! Glad to have that out of my system ♥

Characters: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Implications (grinding against each other, kissing), I don't speak spanish but tried to do my research, Threatening one's life, Fear of falling to death, Death/Suicide ideation mention, Long post

You were desperate for someone—anyone—to notice you, despite being in a room filled with so-called 'superheroes'.

No matter how many times you tried to establish eye contact with someone approaching, they wouldn't notice your feeble attempts to reach out or simply ignore the glances you exchanged. As if your presence meant nothing to them, your indigence only meeting indifference. They treated you like a ghost, or more fitting, a hologram they could dismiss for their own sake. As if you never existed in the same plane as they did.

Or perhaps, the presence of the man whose lap you were sitting on was completely devouring yours.

"Concentrate," he ordered, reaching up to pinch the cheek of yours that wasn't settled on his shoulder. You'd been staring off into the hustle and bustle, gazing longingly at the other spider-people doing their normal, everyday things, unbothered by your meager attempts to distract them. It was your own fault for not speaking up, screaming and crying, throwing a tantrum, but there was one thing - one person - you feared more than being left to your fate.

Miguel O'Hara.

Or the bane of your existence. Your enemy. Stalker. Psycho. An unexplainably respected man in this universe you found yourself in, the details still a little confusing. How anyone could respect someone that kept himself a human pet was incomprehensible to you. But he made it all too clear that he wanted you to not move off his lap or talk to anyone but him, as well as made sure to warn anyone approaching of the consequences if they came too close to you for his liking. And somehow, everyone just accepted his conditions. Even you.

Where would you go? You couldn't outrun him, and no distractions had been great enough to find a place to hide and wait him out. Even if no one acknowledged you aside from him - and Lyla, who, ultimately, was on his side in all of this - they'd become bloodthirsty hounds the second he wanted you to be tracked down and captured. You tried. You really tried.

And failed, and failed, and failed, and failed.

There was no way out for you, at least not at that moment. No matter how much it made your stomach churn, how much you hated to comply, you heaved a defeated sigh, sitting up straight as best as you could on his thighs with your legs hanging from either side of his, his arms around you keeping you safe from falling off—and locking you in place on his lap. Miguel O'Hara didn't do 'mistakes' and 'coincidences'. Especially not when it came to keeping you right where he wanted you.

"Do you get it now?" he asked when he noticed your eyes back on the screens, technical codes and video live feed running next to each other on countless smaller windows that began to envelop you two. The platform beneath his workspace shuddered briefly before it was put into motion, a mere swipe of his fingers enough to lift you two into the air, away from the crowd.

Maps started to show up, all similar but different, the same city in different universes. Places you'd never go. That he'd never take you to. Well… unless…

Unless you loved him.

The thought alone made you gag, and you covered your mouth to not give away the fact you weren't listening to him explaining how to use the statistics again. You wondered how many more times he'd explain it to you, only for you to say, "I don't get it," and him starting over again. It was a small act of pettiness. One that was wearing his patience thin and rigid. One that would cost you a lot if you upset him later. But it was better than to be his pretty little assistant 2, nodding and awing at every word slipping from his mouth while he taught you such an important task. For putting so much trust into your skills and helping him do… whatever the fuck it was, he was trying to teach you.

God, you couldn't stand that guy.

As if kidnapping and threatening you wasn't enough, now he was also enslaving you to do his work. All under the pretense of—as Miguel called it—putting your energy into useful things.

"Cariño, could you please just concentrate?"

Bumping his chest into your back, the slight shove forward was enough to tear you out of your thoughts. You held back your disdain for the new seating arrangement, only one of you two enjoying the closeness while the other dreaded it. Before, he'd let you sit at the edge of the platform, watch the people work and pass the time in your thoughts. But ever since you tried jumping off in a moment of boredom-induced insanity, Miguel had decided that a desk and chair would benefit his plan of keeping you caged by his side, ripping away your freedom piece by piece, one time after the other.

And you hated how gently he was doing it.

You felt the sigh he heaved, felt his chest brushing up against your back again as he let his hands glide down your arms. The man didn't have patience, but he had time, and he made sure to remind you of it. Time to break you. Time to make you submit. Time to make you love him. Miguel ever so slightly opened his legs, spreading yours while he interloped your fingers with his at the same time, placing your hands on the keyboard and mouse respectively. It was his way of asserting control, showing you that you were nothing without him and needed his guidance. All while forcing you to rely on him, as you'd fall without his support. He was in control of you. Of your life. And even in the most subtle ways, Miguel didn't want you to forget it.

You knew all his tricks by now, making you hate him even more.

"You have to click here and then enter the system password…" he mumbled into your ear, his hot breath grazing it. A cold shudder ran down your spine. You could assume all the innocence you wanted in his actions, but you knew he was far from it. In the reflection on the screen, barely visibly if you didn't focus on it, you could see the jerk in the corner of his lips. The bastard was enjoying this more than he hated repeating himself. But you were not going to sit there and let him have it his way.

"What happens if I click here?" you asked, feigning the same innocence as you led the pointer astray, clicking on some pop-up you couldn't decipher. Miguel turned rigid against your back instantly, muscles bulking and fingers curling into claws on top of your hands.

"Let's not–"

"Wait, that looks super interesting."

You stopped him before he could close the pop-up, pretending you were terribly interested in the colorful numbers running down the screen, certain that it was unimportant, perhaps dangerous, to have someone untrained like you work with easily modifiable code. Miguel halted, unmoving, gauging out if you were genuinely interested or if this was another one of your schemes. For good measure (and to confuse him), you let out a few more "wow!" and "I see!" wasting at least some of the time he had put aside to teach you before he saw through your terrible acting.

"That's enough–"

He pushed the cursor towards the X in the corner.

"Wait, I really want to see that!"

You pushed the cursor back, accidentally marking a few numbers and copying them with the help of the keyboard.

"No, you don't even–"

Once again, he tried to close the window, growing more forceful with your hand and the mouse.

"Ah! Don't close it! I was reading that!"

You struggled but pushed the cursor back over the numbers, clicking and adding the previously copied ones into the code.

"ENOUGH!"

Raising your hands from the mouse and keyboard, you stopped completely in your tracks, not even daring to breathe. You listened to him taking a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth to calm himself before he pressed his face into the back of your head. It was a short-lived defiance, but defiance nonetheless, and when you were sure he couldn't see it, it was your turn to grin like the rascal you were. A small victory in a war you were utterly losing.

"You're testing me again, Cariño, but this is no game. You could do some serious harm to people if you play around–"

A blaring alarm suddenly rang out, and you weren't the only one that jolted. Gripping you by the hips, Miguel stood up, setting you down only briefly before grabbing your hand and dragging you over to the edge of the platform. You were no longer the same person that wanted to jump off into the depths, at least not that day. But even though you took a tentative step back, Miguel made sure you were right by his side and in his peripheral by tugging you forward.

"What's wrong?!" he yelled through the alarm at some spooked Spiderman below. Surprised by Miguel's sudden yelling, the man jumped and looked around him in a panic, apparently not knowing what was happening either. Just as Miguel wanted to shake his head in frustration, the alarm stopped abruptly, and you both raised an eyebrow as you looked around, both confused and unsettled about what had just happened.

"Hey Miguel!" someone called from below, and you recognized the pregnant woman you saw standing down there with a tablet as one of Miguel's trusted henchmen, ushering the other Spiderman away. "Thanks for finally fixing that damn broken code! Now Sector 5 has functioning doors again!"

She walked off before Miguel could say anything, and you slumped, the realization of what you did slowly dawning on you. He let go of your hand, brushing back some strands of hair that had fallen into his face before chuckling. “Dios bueno, Cariño…”

It wasn't the outcome you had wanted, and it was driving you up the wall that you had done something that benefitted Miguel's cause even in the slightest. But you had no time to let the frustration take over your thoughts as he turned around to you, stepping forward, to which you instinctively took a step back. One after another, he forced you to go backwards, prowling like a predator that had his prey right where he wanted. Even with his posture relaxed, a hand on his hip, and a grin on his lips, you felt nothing but danger when you looked at him, urging you to keep avoiding him.

"Look at you, you're doing such a good job," he purred, and you stumbled a little, his gaze burning against your skin, raising goosebumps everywhere on your body. "Seems like I have to thank you for that, huh? A little reward?"

"No need!" you rejected without hesitation, taking another step back.

Only this time... it didn't connect with the ground.

Flailing your arms, you let out a horrified gasp. You were about to plummet off the platform, down to the cold, hard, metal ground, and other than the last time, you couldn't be sure Miguel was going to catch you. After all, it had been Miguel who directed you towards the edge. Surely he must have known you'd fall off if you took that last step, not saying anything.

You squeezed your eyes closed, not wanting his face to be the last thing you saw before you'd break all your bones and leave this world for good. However, with your body already tilted over the edge, his hand gripped you by the throat, holding you in place, the fear and panic coming to a sudden standstill as did your movement. There was nothing to catch you behind your back, your life hanging on to the whim of the person you hated the most. The one you were sure secretly hated you just the same, considering all the torture he put you through in the name of his love.

Slowly, unwillingly, you forced yourself to open your eye again, refusing to look at Miguel, and instead shot a glance over your shoulder. A mistake.

"Pu-- Pull me up!" you demanded, shaking after seeing how deep the fall was. Apparently, your survival instinct was still intact and very much active as you clawed your meager nails into his arms, trying to hold onto him. You tried desperately to find a grip on his arm, slipping off over and over as you tried to help yourself upwards, your fingers too sweaty to stick to the slick material of his suit.

"Please!" you whisper squeaked, tears filling your eyes when you finally decided to look at him. Miguel's slight grin disappeared as he pretended to think, humming thoughtfully and rubbing his chin. "You said I deserve a reward! I want you to pull me up again!... Please…”

He stepped closer to the edge, the grip on your throat never tightening or loosening. A horrifying way to be held in the air, not even able to twist out of it. The sudden closeness, however, gave you a chance to claw at his chest instead, your fingertips reaching out to try and grip the nape of his neck to find some halt, only missing a few inches to reach it.

"That's not how it works, Cariño. We both know you're not in charge here. Your reward is being saved from falling to your death."

Pulling you just a few inches upwards, Miguel had you close enough to bring your face before his, his body looming over yours, the threat of falling now spreading to both of you. "But you have to earn being pulled up."

"Mad… you're mad!" you could only hiss at him, the weight of your body slowly starting to hurt around your neck as gravity tried to pull you to your death. You winced when you felt your last remaining foot propped against the platform slip.

"Madly in love, perhaps, Cariño, but you've been very naughty back at the station, copying and inserting codes as you please, not listening when I told you to stop and interrupting me. You know I hate it when you go against everything I try to do for you."

"Okay!" you relented, admitting to his accusations. If that was enough to get your feet on solid ground again, you'd do it. "I'll listen now, okay?! I promise! I'll be good! I'll try to do better, just… pull me up, okay? Please? Please, Miguel?"

There were a few moments of silence, a few moments too long as your foot kept slipping away, your body shaking in his grip that you didn't know if he'd keep on you or let go any second now. His eyes merely drilled into you, trying to see if you meant what you said or were lying again. You couldn't imagine anything but horror and your lost pride reflecting in yours, but his expression softened ever so slightly as he looked at you, and for the sake of not plummeting to your death, you ignored the goosebumps returning when you noticed the affection in his eyes.

"Bésame."

Inwardly, you were fuming. For him to take advantage of your situation was the shabbiest thing you never expected him to do. But you should have! Shameless and mad as he was, you should have known better than to trust he'd help you without gain in your moment of need. Infuriated, you grimaced, the tears burning in your eyes as did every ounce of shame you felt about having to stoop so low as to survive. Maybe you hadn't hit rock bottom yet, but the decision between kissing him and falling to your death was as bad as could be.

"Fuck you!" you hissed angrily.

"No? That's fine then–"

Miguel tried to play it cool, shrugging his shoulders and averting his gaze as if he truly didn't care. As if he wasn't the obsessed freak you knew he was deep down, broken from his experiences and unable to act like a reasonable human being anymore. His grip on your throat loosened ever so slightly, your body sinking lower, pulled by the weight of gravity. Dread, fear, and horror spread through you, but the adrenaline also brought forth the last bit of pride and spite you had in you.

What he didn't expect were your hands shooting forward, nails digging into the flesh right above the collar of his suit before he could get too far away. Miguel's eyes widened as you tipped the scales, pulling him forward, both of you tumbling over the edge. "What are you–?!" he started to argue when you managed to wrap your arms around his strong neck, his hands pressing into your back as he instinctively enveloped you in his arms. As scary as the situation was, Miguel would never allow any harm to come to you. At least not harm that he wasn't responsible for. But what really caught him off-guard were your lips finding his in the middle of the fall.

The kiss seemed to drag on for a small eternity, as if time had stopped in Miguel's favor. You had closed your eyes, making everything so much more bearable as you didn't allow anything to break your lips from his. No pause, no air, nothing was to get between your mouth and his, not even the shock of you two landing on the ground, you in his arms while the metal bent under his feet. Only when he roughly pushed your back into a wall did you allow a gasp to escape, enough time for Miguel to deepen the kiss finally, prying your lips open to slip his tongue inside.

You had always cringed at the term 'tongues battling for dominance' in the fanfiction you read about your favorite characters from shows and TV, but now that you were caught up in a real battle with Miguel, you made no show out of fighting him off, trying to push his tongue back to where it came from… and failing miserably. It had been dangerous to awaken a sleeping beast, giving Miguel something he couldn't get easily but wanted desperately. A kiss was as good as a death sentence to you, but for him, it was heaven incarnated in the little pleasure of having a taste of your lips.

You had no time or thought left to share about your surroundings, about what other people might think, and neither did he. All that mattered to each of you was control now that the upper hand was out of both your reaches. He had told you before that only you had the power to ruin him. That your actions would either make or break this man called Miguel O'Hara. But he wasn't going to make this easy for you. You had surprised him just now, overshadowing that he won a kiss from you. But it was what followed that would make the loser regret not trying harder to win, which kept both of you more than motivated. After all, it was your will against his.

Forcing out a moan many men would die for, you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling him tense and flex underneath your touch. You felt the bulge rubbing against your sex, Miguel not even trying to hide it but jerking when you ground into it. Your hands roamed up and down his arms, nails scratching over his skin as the fabric gave way to your feisty caresses, and Miguel staggered on the spot, pressing up against you even more. A win for you, nonetheless, as his knees were growing weak when you hugged him closer to your body.

When he pushed you forcefully into the wall behind you, however, you had to wince, his fangs getting stuck on your lips, drawing some blood. It was just a moment of being unfocused, and he had turned the tables. His win.

Sooner or later, one of you had to pull back. As your breath emptied into his mouth while his tongue pushed onwards, threatening to domineer, Miguel managed to focus all his willpower on withstanding the alluring call of your moans and feigned sensuality, you bitterly realized it would have to be you. With all his obsession and desire, he was slowly but surely devouring you, conquering the battlefield that was your kiss, not caring about the casualties he'd leave in his wake. It was very much like him to endure in terms of stamina and…

You couldn't keep up.

Coughing, you turned your head away, sinking into him and hiding your face in his shoulder, defeated. Immediately, he lowered his arms that he had used to cage you against the wall, exploiting the victory to embrace you tightly as he let out a shaky breath. Perhaps it only dawned on both of you then that he saved you from plummeting to death, the kiss having been a good distraction.

"Don't ever fucking do that again," he scolded you, the warning resounding loud and clear.

Don't hurt yourself. Don't put yourself in danger, is what he actually meant to say, words that went unsaid but not unheard, even if they disgusted you. Let me protect you. I'll keep you safe—always.

"Don't count on it," was all you could reply to spite him, your voice muffled with your face pressed into his chest. Miguel let out a single, short, breathy laugh before shaking his head.

"How can you be so stubborn?" he hummed, gripping the hair at the back of your neck and forcing your head back to face him. "Guess you still don't know."

"Know what?" you spit in his face with all the disdain you could muster, both of you very aware you were all bark, no bite after the fall, your knees surely caving in had he put you down on your own feet. Miguel returned your angry glare with haughtiness, a smile creeping on his face.

"Who is in control, Cariño."

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casuallyawkardd · 9 months

Text

Close Encounters of the Spiderkind Pt II

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Single Mother!Reader

Summary: Your daughter needs a sitter at the last minute and no one else is available, at least that’s what you thought..

Warnings: Fluff, Miguel is still a softie around kids, your daughter is a menace to society, this is basically the Miggy and Vada show, I’m not fluent in Spanish so correct me if I mess up

A/N: Here’s the part 2 ya’ll wanted so bad! Thank you for the lovely feedback from the last post, I appreciate you guys 💞 If you want to be tagged for future parts, be sure to join the TAGLIST

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

Another month had passed since your little home visit with Miguel. Halfway between then and now, you had decided on sharing your little secret with the rest of the Spider Society. It was no surprise when the other spiders wanted to know more about your daughter, many insisting that you bring her in some time for them to meet. It was especially rewarding when Peter B and Jess heard the news. Granted, Jess was a bit annoyed that you had kept Vada a secret for so long and Peter thought you had deprived Mayday of a potential friend, but after the initial shock they were just as eager to meet her as the others.

Everyone was surprised at how anticlimatic Miguel’s reaction was. “I already knew,” he would reply when someone would question his behavior, “it’s my job to know.” Ever the cocky asshole, O’Hara.

The biggest pro to the whole of Spider Society knowing you had a kid was the near infinite amount of babysitters. And trusted ones at that. Except Ben...he was on probation for encourging Vada to hit a new PR with very big, very real weights. Hobie was on thin ice as well, in your opinion Vada was too young to be ‘sticking it to the man’ as he so generously put it.

When Miguel finds you, you’re in the Go Home Machine control room. Weird, he definitely remembered assigning you an urgent mission. He saunters in, welcomed by the sound of Spider-Byte and you in a very heated discussion.

“Come on Margo, it’s only for a few hours. Vada is a good girl, she won’t get in the way of your work.”

“Nope, not gonna do it. It’s way too last minute, do you see how many anomalies I have to send out today? Plus, I don’t do kids. They're sticky and my equipment doesn't do sticky,” Margo says dismisively, her holgogram zooming around the room as she continues her work.

"My daughter is not sticky," you retort, spinning around in place trying to keep up with her, arms crossed, suited up and ready to go. Miguel recognizes the annoyed look on your face, glad he’s not on the receiving end of it for once, but he’s about to be.

“What’s the hold up? I told you to be on Earth-76C ten minutes ago.”

Your head snaps in his direction, frustration fading only slightly as you huff, “I know. I’m supposed to pick up Vada in an hour, but now I need someone to do it instead and watch her until I finish the mission,” you deadpan him, fidgetting with the Gizmo on your wrist.

“Did you try-”

“Yes, yes, I’ve asked everyone. Jess is doing date night, Peter said Mayday is sick...” Miguel listens as you rattle off the excuses every spiderperson threw at you, listing every close friend of yours in the society. “...Her grandparents are out of town and my neighbor is the one watching her now, but she has plans tonight as well. So if you have any bright ideas-”

“I can watch her,” it’s so surprising to hear those words come out of Miguel's mouth that even Margo has stopped working to look at him, but his eyes are focused solely on you. Your mouth is moving, but no sound comes out as you try to form a coherent sentence.

“I couldn’t-”

“It’s really no problem.”

“You’re probably busy-”

“I’m actually very free right now.”

You scoff, hands moving to your hips, “Did Lyla lock you out of your lab again when you went to go grab food from the cafeteria?”

His eyebrows furrow and his jaw tightens, “Do you need a sitter or not?”

Miguel had lost track of how long he was standing in the hall of your apartment building, holographic suit materialized into more fitting clothes for your universe. It felt like an abnormal amount of time, but was probably only a few minutes. Only one old lady going into her apartment looked at him funny, but that was most likely due to the uncomfortable look on his face. It’d been a long time since he’d had to look after a kid by himself, let alone one as young as Vada.

He had seen her in passing, whenever you would pick up or drop her off with one of the other spiders who had agreed to watch her. You even introduced them one time, saying he was your boss. Vada had just stared at him, he couldn’t tell if it was with a look of fear, confusion or awe. He had no idea how she would react to him picking her up rather than her mother.

His knuckles rapped against the door and Miguel could hear someone approach from the other side. When it opened he was greeted by a woman, looking to be around your age, maybe even younger. She did a double take when she saw him, but Miguel was used to that. There weren’t a lot of universes where being six foot nine was considered normal.

“Can I...help you?” she asked him finally.

“M’name’s Miguel...I was told to pick up Vada,” he said simply and her eyes lit up in understanding.

“Oh! You’re who she was calling about,” she called Vada’s name over her shoulder, letting the little girl know it was time to go. “How do you know Y/N again?”

“We’re coworkers,” it wasn’t a lie technically. Miguel parroting what you had told him to say so he could pretend to be someone you knew from your day job.

“You’re a scientist?”

Miguel paused, confused by the question until he realized she was talking about his...physique. Her eyes not very subtly giving him the up and down. “I...work out when I’m stressed.”

The corners of the woman's mouth briefly turned down in a 'hmph' before returning to their normal position, “Must be hella stressed.”

There was the pitter patter of feet, making Miguel glance past the woman as Vada came to the door. It was almost comical how small she was compared to him, the top of her head barely making it to his hip. The pig tails that were meant to be on top of her head were lopsided, one still in tact while one sagged sideways, and there was a wet spot on her t-shirt. Is that...drool?

“She woke up from a nap about ten minutes ago,” the woman seemed to pick up on his confusion. She knelt down beside Vada, the two hugging goodbye, “Are you okay going with him back to your apartment?” she asked the toddler.

Vada bit her lip in thought, looking back at Miguel as if to stare him down....or rather up. “Hmmm...yeah. Bye Aunt Harrie,” Vada responds in a neutral tone, stepping through the doorway with a backpack almost as big as her slung over one shoulder.

Miguel exchanged pleasantries with her aunt before the three parted ways. He easily tugged the backpack off her shoulder and followed the little girl down the hallway. She seemed to know the way home, their destination only a few floors up. The rickety elavator opened for them and Miguel stepped in, stopping the doors from closing at the last minute when he saw Vada had yet to get in.

She...just stood there. Staring at him. Is she scared? Toddlers can get irrational fears, maybe the elevator freaks her out? Then she wouldn’t be looking at that instead of staring at me? “Are you coming?” he finally asked, meeting her gaze when she looks back up at him.

“You have to say superhero jump.” Well that was blunt.

“¿Perdóname?”

“Huh?”

Miguel cleared his throat, “I mean, what are you talking about?”

“Mama always says ‘superhero jump!’ and then I do a reeeally big jump from here to there,” Vada talks with her hands, pointing at her feet and then the elevator.

That’s ridiculous, was what Miguel was going to say before he stopped himself, sighing. “Superhero jump.”

“You have to say it in a happy voice.”

“Superhero jump~,” Miguel’s voice raised an octave in mock enthusiasm, but it seemed to do the trick as Vada did her bathetic jump over the elevator gap. “...Wow, good job.”

“Thank you,” she said proudly as she stood on her tip toes to hit the button for their floor.

The rest of the short trip was uneventful. Miguel did give Vada a sideways glance when she didn’t request he say ‘superhero jump’ when they got out, calling her actions inconsistent in his head. Like he wasn’t referring to a toddler. When he opened the door to the apartment, Vada was off. She started by running into the living room, stuttering to a stop before going to her mother’s room, then her own and even the bathroom.

Finally she stopped back in the living room where Miguel waited, “Where’s Mama?”

“She’s working, I’m watching you, remember?”

Vada’s nose scrunched at that, “I want Mama.”

“I’m sure you do, but you’ll just have to wait.”

The toddler’s foot stomped defiantly, “I want Mama now!”

“Vada,” Miguel huffed, squatting to be level with her. “Cálmate, your mother will be home in a couple hours. You’re a big girl right? You can wait,” Vada glared at him, but it was hard to take a three year old’s anger seriously when she looked cute expressing it. She then gasped dramatically, cheeks puffing out as she held the breath, little hands covering her nose and mouth. There was a moment of awkward silence as they stared at one another.

What was she-oh. Oh.

“Stop that, throwing a tantrum isn’t gonna change my answer,” Miguel said a bit more firmly, making sure to be somewhat gentle still. She didn’t budge. “Vada, ay coño, that’s enough.¿Quieres desmayarte?” Do you want to pass out?

He reached a hand out to grab her, maybe jostle some sense into her, but didn’t get the chance as she erupted into giggle when his hand grazed her side. Miguel was confused at first before realization hit, “Are you ticklish?” he teased.

Vada giggled again, her bad mood seeming to fade away almost instantly, “Noooo~,” she cooed.

Miguel scoffed, the corners of his mouth turning up, “Alright, you’re not ticklish, but come on. I’m sure you don’t want to just stare at each other until your mom comes home. There’s gotta be something you want to do? Maybe play? What do you and your mom do for fun?”

The afternoon went by surprisingly fast. Vada was...quite the little firecracker. Very much her mother’s daughter. Not only did she look like a carbon copy of her mom, but she had the same mannerisms. The way her nose scrunched when she was displeased with something he said, the way she bit her bottom lip when thinking hard about something, it was like he was babysitting a tinier version of you.

Vada played him like a fiddle, getting him to play pretend with her little toys, even convincing him to do different voices for each of the dolls she had assigned to him. Miguel was just glad no one else was around to witness this, he’d be spending the rest of his life threatening them to keep quiet. He became very aware of the drama at Vada’s preschool, the little girl filling him in on all the latest gossip, to which Miguel was listening to with an embarrassing amount of intrigue.

“...now Becca isn’t talking to Daina because Daina laid next to Teddy during nap time,” Vada rambles on, absentmindedly rolling a toy truck across the floor.

“Uh huh, because Becca like likes Teddy,” Miguel affirms, his deep, monotone voice a stark contrast to hers. He sat next to her on the ground, watching Vada as she continued to play, while detangling the hair of one of her dolls with a tiny, plastic brush.

“Yup! And then Becca got mad and pushed Daina into the sandpit, so now Becca can’t play outside for pickup.”

“Tch! Puta...” Miguel mutters the phrase without even registering it, catching himself when he realizes how invested he’s gotten in petty gossip. A child’s petty gossip, no less. Domínese, O’Hara...

“Puta.”

Miguel’s eyes widen, looking back at Vada. Did she just.. “Don’t say that word.”

“Why?”

“It’s a bad word.”

“Nuh-uh, my mommy knows all the bad words and she's never said that one.”

“It is.”

“Poooootaaaaah~” Vada enunciates, giggling at how annoyed Miguel gets when she says it. Before Miguel can scold her once more, the clicking of the front door alerts them of your arrival, both Vada and Miguel’s head snapping to watch as you come in and shut the door behind you.

It had been a more difficult mission than you had anticipated. The Sandman from your earth was reeking havoc in another dimension. Seemed like an easy fix, until you discovered there was another Sandman from a different universe also in the mix. After some sloppy web work, a little assistance from the spider of that universe and a few bruised ribs, you had them captured and returned to HQ to be sent back to their respective earths. The damage to your body was minimal, for someone with superhuman abilities, a good night’s rest would have you back to normal.

The door had hardly been shut when the familiar tapping of Vada’s feet on the hardwood approaches you. And as usual, you crouch down to accept her embrace, this time wincing slightly as her little body collides into yours, your toddler oblivious to the injuries you had sustained. She wastes no time talking your ear off, telling you how her day was at Aunt Harrie’s and her evening with Miguel.

Miguel, speaking of, stood in the archway that connected the kitchen to the living room to watch the interaction unfold. You don’t see it, but the sight of you watching as Vada eagerly chatters brings a smile to his face, just a small one, as he admired the relationship between mother and daughter. When you glance his way, he averts his gaze to the ground and clears his throat stiffly.

“Well, sweet girl, it sounds like you had a busy day,” you say, looking back at your daughter. She’s beaming at you, a sight that always warms your heart no matter how many times you see it. “Come on, let’s get dinner started.” Vada moves like someone who’s never eaten, bolting to the kitchen counter and crawling onto one of the bar stools.

“Can Miggy have dinner too?” she asks, fidgetting excitedly in her seat. The question makes you pause, stopping just as you were about to fill an empty pot with water. After hemming and hawing for a moment, Vada decides to turn her attention to the man in question, “Can you, Miggy? Can you?”

Miguel’s eyes narrow, jaw set as he thinks of what to say, Vada waiting with bated breath. “Well...”

“It’s fine.” You finally find your voice again.

Miguel turns his attention to you now, “It is?”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” you shrug simply, “that is if you want to stay for dinner.” Miguel purses his lips as he thinks over your offer and you try not to chuckle at the sight.

“...What are you making?”

“Boxed Mac n Cheese.”

He scoffs, “That doesn’t sound very-”

“Mac n Cheese is my favorite!” Vada chimes in, “Mama always gets the one’s shaped like unicorns and rainbows cuz they taste better.”

Her words make Miguel pause again, finally letting out a deep breath through his nose, “Sure, I’ll stay for dinner.”

You smile mischievously, “We’re happy to have you, ‘Miggy~.’”

“Don’t push your luck.”

Dinner with you and your daughter was surprisingly pleasant. Miguel didn’t say much as he shoved the cheap pasta and cheese down his throat, watching you interact with your daughter. It was domestic, almost peaceful. Afterward Miguel offers to do the dishes while you put Vada down for the night. He excuses himself once done, thanking you for the meal and making sure to leave out the part that, for dinner being a cheap box of mac n cheese, it was the best meal he had had in a long time.

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@l0sert0wn @deputy-videogamer @arctic4life @sasaleleselfships @autismsupermusicalassassin @snert-bees @qundadedingle11 @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @fangirlreice7 @mouse-teagreat @andr3wgarfieldsupremacist @yellieeeee @thesrtuggleisveryreal @escherichiacolli @sweeteaacorner @marvelouslovely-barnes @meeom @candlewitch-cryptic @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @melovetitties @ilovemycat6808 @vegas-writing-den @pippethealien @shibble @mommyhange1 @chiikasevennn @pokhouu @jenniferdixon05207 @m0sscr3ates @momos-peaches @insanelycrazyanddelusional @miggyoharaswife @justtnat @imliquidesmooth @thedevillovesflowers @mvc2019 @starrynightnight @risinglightmoon @charming4u @whitetearx @blueparadisecollection16s @idontknowwhatimgoinghere @ziyahshinez @migueloharaslxt @obi-mom-kenobi @allysunny @viriexo @futuristicpandakid @louderfortheback @tomhollandisabae @itzsab @blue-pears-blog @geraskier-thots @saintskully @johnny-pie @keenzinemugstudent @rizahawkeye1380 @realalpacorn @prettylittlebrowngirl @leahnicole1219 @fandom-ash

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara headcannon #reader insert #close enounters of the spiderkind #miguel o'hara x single mother!reader

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otakubimbo · 3 months

Text

Fake Love, Fake Rage

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!Reader

Contents: Yelling. Anger. Cussing. Mentions of fake dating. Angst. Mean Miguel. Miguel who can't talk about his feelings. Harassment. Unresolved argument.

You didn't think your life would turn out like this. What's the problem with a little white lie anyways? Miguel had a huge problem with that little lie.

Sticky Note: This is part 1 of 2, there will be a happy ending but let's get some angst in the meantime <3. Not proof read, if I missed any content warnings let me know. K. Thanks. Mwah.

Masterlist

Nothing could have prepared Miguel for the words that were going to come out of Jessica’s mouth that afternoon.

“So, you finally confessed to her, huh? About time.” Jessica says as she drops a stack of reports on his desk. He immediately looks up with an irritated confused grunt.

“What are you talking about?” He questions picking up the papers she just put down, turning his attention to that instead of her.

“You and Y/N are finally dating. It’s the word around the society.” She huffs, a smile painted on her face as Miguel's head snaps up and he stares at her wide-eyed.

“Que carajo? We are not dating. Who the hell is saying that?” He questions, eyes glowing red as his face heats up at the thought. Well yes, the two of you were close, as close as someone could be to Miguel, but dating? No, absolutely not. Of course, he’s thought about it. You had a genius that rivaled his own, you were beautiful, talented, competent, serious but funny. Miguel shook his head at the thoughts.

“Everyone’s saying that she said it. That’s why I thought you finally confessed your feelings for her.” Jessica shrugged casually, mildly amused at this.

“I do not have feelings for her.” He grumbles standing up from his desk to find you and ‘fix this’. Both Jessica and Lyla exchange looks at each other as he storms out of his own lab to yours, the one he personally built for you because he doesn’t have feelings for you. He absolutely has feelings for you.

As he makes his way to your lab, he can hear all the whispers of people about the two of you dating. Mostly people are shocked but can see it with the amount of time the two of you spend together and the things he does for you. There are some whispers about how you’re obviously too good for him and how he could ever convince you to date him with his personality. But he already knew that he already knew that you were too good for him. All of this just made him angrier as he neared your lab. You could feel him before you saw him, without the need for your spidey senses.

“Yes O’Hara?” You question, not even looking up from your task of working on a watch as Miles holds a light for you and Hobie is handing you tools. You, of course, could do these tasks by yourself but you enjoyed their company.

“Why the hell are you going around telling people we are dating?!” He barks at you; you still don’t lift your head from your work.

“Tone, O’Hara.” Is your response that makes his nostrils flair. He takes a deep breath; he knows your stubbornness will not allow you to communicate with him if he’s yelling at you. You made that very clear in the early stages of your ‘friendship’. Miles looks back and forth between you and Miguel while Hobie looks amused as usual. You had already told Hobie the incident that brought upon Miguel being in your office right now and he told you Miguel would be pissed.

“Why are you lying to people saying we are dating?” He asked in a calmer tone which surprised Miles, he’s never heard him speak so calmly but of course, this was usually reserved for spaces when it was just the two of you.

“Ben Riley wouldn’t take no for an answer, so instead of making him lose his teeth I told him we were dating.” You say nonchalantly still not looking at him.

“So, are yall dating?” Miles quietly asks more to you than to Miguel.

“We are not. Now hold still so I can finish these modifications.” You respond shifting his hand back in place.

“You would be lucky mate to even fake date her. She is one of the most fit spider women around.” Hobie jokes which just makes you roll your eyes.

“Everyone out!” Miguel growls at Hobie and Miles, now you finally lift your head to scowl at him.

“This is MY lab, O’Hara. You can’t just command them out during the middle of my work.” You huff, eyes narrowed at him. You and Miguel glare at each other.

“Ooof” Hobie huffs as he stands up from the desk behind you, putting your tools back. “Let’s leave the lovers to quarrel alone, mate.”

Miles nervously puts your light down while Miguel glares at them as they leave the two of you alone. The two of them didn’t even get out of earshot before you started yelling at Miguel.

“You think we should of just left?” Miles asks, worried about you.

“Oi, yeah absolutely nothing worse than getting in-between a couple's fight.” Hobie says as he casually puts his hands in his pockets.

“But she said they weren’t dating.” Miles looks confused.

“Yet”

At this point, you were truly heated at what his problem was. He could simply just deny that you two were a couple, there was no need to storm into your lab when you were in the middle of working.

“Miguel, I’m seriously too busy to do this right now. If you want me to be able to go on any missions, I need to work on this.” You gesture at your exposed watch on your desk.

“You’re the one who’s going around telling everyone we are dating because you can’t just reject someone.” He snaps back, towering over you. You roll your eyes deciding to just ignore him and get back to your watch.

“I told you; he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and you’ve been clear about spider-on-spider violence.” You respond with a roll of your eyes, whispering how he’s a hypocrite for the whole Miles situation. Miguel aggressively rakes his fingers through his hair, eyes going a light red annoyed with your instance that you weren’t in the wrong.

“And now, I’ll be getting back to work.” You say now having to adjust your stuff since your help was told to get out.

“You do realize what people are saying right?!” He grunts as his hand slams on your workstation.

“If it’s really that bad for people to think we are dating then just simply tell everyone we aren’t. I really don’t care that much truthfully; I just said the first thing that came to mind.” You don’t even acknowledge his tantrum anymore, tools in hand going back to your watch.

“Seriously?” He asked, his tone is different than before, it sounded saddened? That makes you look up at him, and really look at him. His brows were furrowed, and his teeth were clenched but there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t understand.

“What’s actually wrong, Mig?” Your voice was soft, gentle, the voice you only used when he was in one of his moods which seems like right now. Your eyes gazed upon him in worry and concern for him. He hated that. He hated seeing everything fade from around you, that all he could see was you. Your lips pressed together, plump and soft, your eyes shining at him as if he was the only important thing right then, the nickname you gave him falling off your lips making his pulse pick up. He almost let himself get caught in that until the voices of the other spiders played in his head, what Hobbie said played in his head, he was no where close good enough for you, he would never be. You deserve something better than the monster that he is. He breathes out curses in Spanish as he grows more frustrated with everything, mainly himself.

“Mig, you know I haven’t taken those Spanish classes yet. What is going on?” You ask even more gently than the last time, you could tell it was more than you pretending to date him. There was something else, something he wasn’t telling you. “Talk to me, you know you always can.” You say when you don’t get a response from him.

You reach out to touch him, like you always do when he gets too into his own head. He pulls back quickly, scowling at you.

“Have you ever thought about keeping me out of your shocking business? This stupid fake dating shit. And of course, people believe it because you’re always forcing yourself around me. I don’t want to be in any of your stupid drama, for shocks sake. Leave me out of your shit. Have you ever thought that shit was annoying? Because it is, it’s annoying and pointless. You’re here to do your job and that’s shocking it. ” He spits at you and your eyes go wide.

He’s never spoken to you like this before. Yeah, he had a temper and could even get frustrated with you but you thought maybe it was different between the two of you. The conversations you’ve had, all the time you’ve spent with just the two of you. You thought you were at the very least friends. You could feel your eyes starting to burn, but you refused to cry, especially in front of him. You grab your deconstructed watch and all your things in grabbing distance.

“Fuck you, Miguel” you say as you shove your way past him. He fucked up, he knew he did so he let you walk off. Hoping you could calm down enough to let him speak to you again, but he didn’t know when that would be. He saw the tears starting to form in your eyes when you pushed past him, he heard the crack in your voice, but he said nothing to stop you. No apology, no explanation, nothing.

When you left your lab, you went directly to Spider Byte, your watch wasn’t working currently since you took it apart and you just wanted to go home. You hadn’t started crying yet but she could see something was wrong when you walked up to her.

“Hey Margo, my watch is kind of out of commission right now. Can you get me home?” You ask breathy, your chest tight in an effort to keep your composure.

“Of course, girl but are you good?” she asks, concern written all over her face. You wave her off dismissively.

“Yeah, I just got some stuff to take care of at home. I’m good. I’m good.” You say through your gritted teeth, hoping she would drop it and she does, going into start to bring up your home universe.

“So, you and Miguel?” She questions, an eye looking up at you hoping this wasn’t your problem.

You take in a deep breath, “There’s definitely no me and Miguel, absolutely not. That was just a lie I came up with to get Riley off my case ya know.” You respond trying to keep your voice steady and reassuring.

“Yeah, yeah I get ya.” She replies, dropping that topic also as she pulls up a portal to your universe. “Thanks, Margo, I’ll catch you later.” You say stepping into the portable before she could even reply. And that was the last time anyone had seen you.

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luveline · 10 months

Note

request for miguel - he gets hurt somehow, maybe out on a mission or something, and spider-girl takes care of him and patches him back up, definitely puts a cute plaster on him which he hates but he loves her so he lets it slide :) <33 everyone makes fun of him for it

also hi ily hope you're having/had a fantastic day

thank you for your request!! grumpy lovesick miguel x sunshine spidergirl!reader

"And the salt builds up around their ankles," you're saying, sitting on Miguel's thigh, a bandaid in your shaking hands, "and the chick's feet get so heavy they can't keep up."

Miguel knows this already, he'd listened to you talk about flamingos for days after you watched that nature documentary, but he lets you tell him again for the very same reason he has you sitting on his thigh in front of everyone, and the same reason he doesn't care that the bandaid you're putting on his cheek has a smiley face in the middle. He scared you today, getting hurt. Even as his quickened regenerative abilities close his wounds and heal his contusions, he can feel you trembling in his lap.

He'd been out with the elite strike team, Spider-Woman on one side of him and Spider-Girl (not you) on the other. Jessica's more than capable of holding her own, and so together Miguel figured he'd been in neither danger nor trouble. But trouble doesn't always present itself as such, and the anomaly they'd been handling had turned out to be three anomalies. It's never happened before, and the shock startled him into bad decisions.

The cut on his cheek was wide, but it's nearly healed now. He barely felt it.

What he did feel was your gasp, like you'd been cut yourself, like he had the knife in his hand when you saw it. He supposes you've never witnessed him hurt before, and you're not as untouchable as you seem; you were worse than scared.

"Did you get it?" he asks.

You smooth your thumb along the edges of his bandaid carefully. "Got it. You'll be okay, don't worry."

You hide your own worry with his. He feeds into it. "Are you sure? What about the one on my arm, you haven't touched that one."

The one on his arm has been wrapped in gauze and bandages. You bring his arm to your chest, careful not to touch his wound. "Does it hurt?" you ask, your lashes twitching with the intensity of your concern.

"No, cariño," he says quietly, for your ears only.

"Get a room," Lyla pleads. For hers, too, it seems.

"Sorry," you say, trying to stand. Miguel strong arms you into staying on his thigh, arm like a seatbelt at your waist. "Miguel."

"You haven't finished," he insists.

"You look finished to me," Lyla says. "Or did you want another bandaid for the owy over your heart?"

He grits his teeth. He doesn't want another bandaid, he didn't want the first, but he wants you to be happy. If putting a giant pink heart-shaped plaster on his cheek is going to make you feel better, that's what has to be done. Miguel purses his lips to one side until he feels the adhesive of the bandaid pull away from his skin, and waits in the ridicule of his teammates for you to notice.

"Oh," you say, fingers poking at the peeled bandaid unhappily. "Sorry, I'm sorry, let me–" You pull the bandaid off achingly slowly. "I only have hearts left, I–"

"Just put it on," he says, with a feigned reluctance. His devious plan works, and you set a heart plaster over his cut. It's not big enough. You add a second.

"That is hilarious," Lyla says, her mink coat falling down her arm as she twists in the air and holds up a dramatically large cell phone. "Say cheese."

Miguel looks at you. You throw up a peace sign. The photo is proof of his indulgence in you, if nothing else. He doesn't care how ridiculous he might look on screen, you've finally stopped shaking.

He squeezes the fat of your hip in his hand and sighs. What a fool, he thinks. He's not talking about you.

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scribble-dribble-writes · 10 months

Note

MIGUEL X READER. SWEATY CAR SCENE.

please and thank u 🥹🫶🏻

THIS SCRATCHED MY BRAIN AND IS PROBABLY MY FAV TROPE 😩😩😩

Also hope it's ok that I mixed in a little bit of The Batman aesthetic.

Here you go I hope you like it!

GOLD RUSH

Warnings: kissing, lots of kissing

Word count: 1400

“What’s gotten into you?”, you asked as you trailed behind him. His hand wound firmly around your wrist as he led you away from the party.

“Nothing.” he mumbled but in the years you had known him, you knew that he was upset.

“Don’t lie to me.”, you told him, to which he spun you around as he pulled you in.

That when you stopped, you were facing him enclosed within his arms with you back resting on the car door.

“Well you’ve been lying to me for years.”, he held you in his gaze and all you could focus on was the slight manner in which his tie was askew and how the top button on his shirt was tempting you to set it free.

“Have I?”, you taunted him, wanting to get out of his hold because you knew where you were placed in his life.

You were his friend, his confidant, the one who cleaned up his messes and the one that was invisible. To love him meant, he never noticed you.

“How could you do this to me?”, he asked looking more distraught than usual, his eyes dosing your heart in gasoline.

“Do what to you?”, you grew tense. This game had to stop. You had said nothing wrong.

“Saying you loved me in that speech you dedicated to the company.”, he leaned closer.

“Everyone loves you, Miguel. So why is it a bother now just because I said it too.”, you shrugged your shoulders, the anger getting your words to have an edge to them.

Was it wrong that you said it?

Was it wrong that you meant it?

You bit back what you wanted to add and turned away but the distressed expression on his face pushed you over the edge.

“Besides it’s nothing new. All the women you take home every night would have let it slip the moment they saw you.”, you said, with what courage you did not know but you had had enough.

“Get in the car.”, he ordered to which you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’ll drop you home.”, he softened and the sweet tone of his voice had a way of working it’s way into your mind, like it was magic.

But you knew how to resist it. You tilted his chin to his right, to get his gaze to focus on a woman that was about to approach him.

“Looks like she’s more your type.”, you leaned closer to whisper into his ear in an attempt to escape from him. Being around him had begun to be more painful that you realized.

But he grumbled, pulling his chin away from your hold to set his eyes back on you. He took a hold of your hand again as he instructed LYLA to start the car.

He held open the door for you, his actions dissuading the woman who was approaching him and now you were at odds. Because for so long you had wanted this, his attention and now you were unsure.

Where you just another accolade on his wall?

But your years of friendship meant you trusted him, and he trusted you, crossing over some of the most unspeakable losses in each other’s lives, you sighed and got in.

His black SUV was the most luxurious vehicle you had ever gotten into, sleek metal lining and black leather seats with the aroma of spiced coffee swirling around you. It felt like him. And that wasn’t doing you any good.

He closed the door after him and his AI began to set the car in motion. There was no one else except for you and him. A few minutes had passed before he spoke to you again.

“Did you mean it?”, he asked, his voice loaded with a vulnerability he only displayed around you.

“Like the way your mistresses say it?”, you asked before you could hold it back. It lashed out from within you and it was too late for damage control.

“Stop.”, he said slowly, the edge of his pinky finger touching yours.

“I’ve never taken them home.”, he admitted and it broke the illusion you were in.

“What do you mean?”, you asked, turing to see him, jealous that even the streetlights cast him in a beautiful haze.

“They get drunk, I drop them home. I stay the night and get the paparazzi to catch me in an awkward moment. But nothing happens. I spend the night watching your favorite movies, it's like I'm spending them with you instead.”, he spoke but his gaze was away from you, because if he had looked at you, he could have registered the look on your face.

“Why do you do it then?”, you questioned, now intrigued and hoping all the same time.

“To maintain a reputation that gives me an advantage to separate the vigilante identity I hold at night.”, he explained. You were the only one he had bestowed his beloved secret to.

You settled further into the seat, taking in this new information but he still hadn’t settled yet. He ran his fingers through his hair almost like he was restless.

“Did you mean it?”, he asked again and you were sure the answer was going to spill out of you.

“Miguel.”, you began to swallow that feeling that had begun to drill it's way into your heart again.

“Put me out of this misery.”, he turned to you, frantic as he pulled away his tie, he was unravelling and you didn’t know why.

“What do you want me to say? Everybody wants you, Miguel –

“But I want you.”, he cut you off impatiently.

“You’re the one I love.”, he said it with a passion that flooded into his eyes.

“It’s torturous, to see you and not be close. To hold you but never be yours. To love you and have you push me away.”, he argued and your brain has short-circuited. Some how as he put forth his statement you wanted to hold your own.

“But you never see me. All this while I’ve been here and all you’ve done is keep me at arm's length.”, you spoke back.

“Because I didn’t want to break what we had.”, his voice got louder.

“You couldn’t face your fears.”, you got closer.

“Well you should have spoken about it sooner.”, he got closer.

“Argh you are so –

“Why do you –

But then there was silence, because his hands were in your hair, his lips were on yours. You held your breath and he pulled you in closer as you pulled away in surprise, to witness the shock that changed into delight in his eyes. But after a pause,

His hands were on your thighs pulling you onto his lap, your hands were fumbling with the buttons as his lips worked their magic on your skin and kissed you everywhere he wished, his finger trailing up to slide away the straps of your dress to kiss your bare shoulder as you felt satisfaction sore through you once the first few of his buttons were undone, letting you trace your palm over his chest to feel the beat of his heart, to then slide it up his strong neck to find the ends of his hair.

His nose tucked under your ear to inhale in your perfume and the cold air inside the car had vanished to replace it with a warmth that made it feel like the sauna. Your fingers stuck onto the leather as did your knees, making you feel like you and him were metals, now bonding together. Fusing well in all the right places. His whispers in Spanish, his lips finding new places you would now hold his touch forever in, his hand slipped up to brace your neck as he found your lips again, to part your lips with his tongue to dig deeper, to move in a sync as though he had known you for ages and you met his pace. You were his equal, and he knew that well in how you dealt with business but here, he was certain you carried a part of his soul.

He slid to the side to lie down, stretching his legs a bit as you pulled shirt free from where had he tucked it in. Your hair was no longer in a bun, your dress was crumpled and his shirt had lost a few buttons, but you laid your head on his panting chest listening to the joy in his voice as he said this was beyond anything he had dreamt. It was. You could never have had made this up.

With new confidence, you rose slowly, tilting his chin to catch his gaze.

Because he wanted you.

He wanted you.

You bent to kiss him again and you were sure this was the start to many more.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #the mandalorian fanart #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099

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popquizhot-shot · 10 months

Note

O my gosh do you think you can do a Miguel x teen reader. Where the reader has been in a depressed mood lately and no one can figure out what's wrong till they reveal that their headphones broke on their last mission and it was the last thing their remaining family member gave to them before they died and they blaime themselves for not being more careful with them.

Headphones-Miguel O’Hara x teen!reader.

As someone who’s emotionally attached to her heradpjones yes I can and will write this. Thank you all so much for the love and support from my last post! I’ll be taking a short break after this and I hope you all like it! Please comment and reblog if you do :D love you<3333

Warnings: Implied Hobie brown x reader; mostly fluff dw, crying.

ART BY THE AMAZING @thattripleabattery

“Is it just me, or is something off about her?” Miles nods towards you who is sitting all alone away from and sipping juice desolately as they all listen to Miguel’s newest monthly goal meeting.

“Something looks off about her, like something’s missing.” Gwen narrows her eyes at your figure.

You just keep nodding at intervals and try to pay attention but all you can think about are the headphones your brother had given you.

You considered them an extension of you, going so far as to even sometimes wear them during light missions while you waited for the threat to show up.

Your last mission had been gruelling, so bad to the point that both Jess and your dad had suggested you take a break from fighting to recuperate.

You were so devastated on the inside, all you did was just nod.

You knew that Miguel knew you were off. It was obvious that you joked less and acted tired. Not to mention the little amount of sleep you got.

It was stupid really, all this drama over a pair of headphones. Yet, they were the last connection you had to your brothers and it felt like you had truly lost your family when they broke into two.

Your mind was literally empty as you nodded at whatever Miguel was saying. You just dipped your juice and kept zoning in and out. It felt wrong that they weren’t there around your neck where they usually were.

Miguel started to notice your constant fidgeting and the way your hands kept rubbing your neck. He had also noticed your dull nature and the way your sweet smile stopped making its way onto your face.

Even to his lamest dad jokes, you’d respond with a huff and small twist of your lips.

As he wrapped up the plan, his eyes flit to yours and he saw you still nodding, your eyes glassy.

He takes a deep breath, “Dismissed, all of you leave. Now.”

The shuffle of chairs fills the room as everyone files out one by one.

He says your name, “Stay back.” And turns around to look at the hologram.

Miles and Gwen look at each other and then at you, who breathes in and nods without a word.

Once everyone has left, he turns back around to find you looking at him with your hands behind your back.

“What happened?” He asks and you sign.

“Nothing.”

“It’s rude to lie.”

“Manners maketh man and all that jazz.” You reply with a roll of your eyes.

“Seriously.” He raises his eyebrow and his hand rests on your shoulder, “You okay?”

“Yeah, god I’m fine! I was just an irresponsible shit and I broke my headphones.”

His eyebrows furrow, “The ones your brother gave you?”

You clench your jaw and nod, eyes smarting as you struggle not to cry at the thought.

He shrugs, “They’re just headphones, kid. You can always get another.”

You just scoffed, “Yeah, I know.”

“I mean, you get it right?”he tips his down to make a point.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” You smile wryly and turn away so that he can miss the tear forming in your eye, “Cool, I’ll uh catch you later boss man.”

He stares after your retreating figure with remorse, did he say something wrong?

“You dumb idiot.” Lyla pops up.

“What?” He snarls, whirling to look at her.

“She was really attached to those headphones, Miguel.”

“She can always get new ones, Lyla. I’m getting them for her anyway.”

“Miguel it’s as if her brother died all over again.” Lyla replies firmly, “She’s hurting, ans you made her feel worse.”

Miguel hangs his head, “Shit.”

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but after years of shutting himself out, he didn’t understand people’s feelings like he used to, and he wanted with every fibre of his being to cheer you up, and he managed to screw it up.

“You need to go apologise and fix this.” Lyla points towards the doorway.

——————-

“It’s okay. Let it all out.” Hobie’s soothing voice is calming as his hand travels up and down your back to soothe you.

You breathe deeply before letting out another broken sob that only makes you more embarrassed, and in front of Hobie of all people. The guy just oozed absolute “don’t care” energy while still simultaneously being one of the most caring people you’d ever met.

Your apologies are hushed and he takes your face between his hands and wipes your tears from your cheeks, “You look pretty even when you cry.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

You hug him again, “Thank you.”

“I know what it’s like to lose something like that, and I’m sorry. But I know you will get over it and I salute you for being so brave.” He winks, “I’ve gotta run, catch you later.”

He quickly kisses your forehead and dashes off, leaving you stunned. After a few moments, a smile makes its way onto your puffy face.

“I’m going to kill that kid.” Miguel seethes as he watches from the camera.

———-

You were exhausted after a long day of training and you couldn’t wait to just go and fall asleep in your quarters.

The door swung open easily and your eyes flitted to the shabbily wrapped present on your bed. The bed that was unmade in the morning but was miraculously made and cleaned now.

Your eyes narrow as you tear away the wrapping to find a near identical pair of headphones to the ones that broke and your eyes widen in shock as you hold them up in front of you.

There’s a post-it stuck to the wrapping paper and you read the note that is unmistakably written by Miguel. You can recognise his chicken scratch handwriting.

“Im sorry for hurting your feelings this morning. And I hope this makes up for it. Don’t blame yourself, it was an accident and accidents happen. Im proud that you learnt your mistake and that you act so wise for your age, despite the fact that you decide to go to a weird British punk spider for advice, I am still proud of you. No es tu culpa, none of this is your fault.

Love,

Dad.”

—————-

“She seems to be in a much better mood today.” Gwen nudges Miles.

“She’s smiling and trying to get him to laugh.” Miles grins at your antics.

“Wait her headphones! They were missing, they’re back around her neck, that’s probably why she was in a shitty mood!” Pavitr reasons as Gwen nods in agreement.

“Are the three of you paying attention?” Miguel looks pointedly at the three kids and his glare then falls in Hobie who is seated next to you.

“Everyone dismissed!”

As everyone files out he says yet again, “Hobart, stay back.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #mini miguel<33 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara #atsv #atsv x reader

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