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#spider man x reader fic
devilishcupid · 11 months
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CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara
☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.
☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader
☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing
☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.
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"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."
"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.
"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."
"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.
"Miguel!"
And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.
His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.
Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.
He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.
"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.
Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.
You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.
"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"
Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.
"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."
"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."
You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."
Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."
"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.
"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."
He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.
"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."
Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."
With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.
But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.
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messylustt · 11 months
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 1.3k words
fic masterlist pt one next part
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i’ve gotten some help with my spanish and have approved/fixed accordingly (if you have any suggestions on the spanish please speak up!); enemies to lovers trope; not obvious, but subtle jealous miguel; human(not spider-person)!reader; spanish term of endearment ‘chaparrita’ — miguel o’hara has never liked you—a human—joining the team as the ‘person in the chair’. he’s made his distaste for you clear. but when he speaks certain spanish words you don’t understand, he reveals that his annoyance of you is by the fact that you make him feel ‘hot’. soon, a deal surfaces, his promotion benefitting you both.
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Miguel watches as you fiddled with the different tech machines, tapping with a focused gaze. He tilted his head, staying by the large spider, having spread out screens filled with the many mission's info.
He had a slight scowl on his face, his expression usually one considered moody. But this time he had a reason for it. You.
You were a pain to Miguel, far too nice to every spider-person. He hadn't liked having you here the moment a few of them recommended you. They described you as the 'person in the chair'. You were smart, sure, but Miguel didn't think you belonged here. You weren't a spider-person like the rest of them, you were human.
He jumped down, landing beside you. You look to your left, having to tilt your head up at his sheer height. You gulp. You've always been nervous around Miguel O'hara. You didn't think he once smiled, his gaze only seeming to harden, especially when you would speak.
So, you kept it minimal. Only talking to him when it was required. "O'hara." You nod, turning quickly back to your work. "Anything I can help you with?"
"Nothing you can help with, y/l/n." His small jab at your inability in many areas, such as swinging from buildings with web, made you straighten your spine.
You ignore his tone, again not daring to meet his gaze. "Then, I'm sure Jessica will be here soon to help with anything."
Miguel's eyes wander your stiff posture. He could tell that he made you nervous, and part of him relished in that. It helped him think that you knew your place.
When you noticed that he wasn't leaving, you go to say something else, when Hobie and Peter burst into the room. Both yours and Miguel's attentions shift. Hobie easily moves towards you, making you smile. He reached his hand out as you did what many would call a typical 'bro handshake'. But Hobie instead chose to call something far from normality, in his prominent british accent.
Hobie was one of the ones who recommended you for this job. And you've been beyond grateful since.
"How's ya bloody borin’ shit goin’?" Hobie asks, leaning down to see whatever nonsense you had typed up.
"Describe 'boring shit'." You say, your tone turning smug.
He scoffs, eyeing the screen again, before giving up and grabbing your chin to turn back to the tech. "Keep working."
You chuckle, just as Miguel speaks. "Aren't you supposed to be out?"
Hobie looks to Miguel, straightening his guitar strap. "What—should I start callin’ ya boss, and kissin’ ya boots?"
Hobie has always been one to 'do his own thing' and completely bypass the rules. Miguel looks unimpressed, as Hobie holds his hands up in fake innocence. Peter chimes in. "He doesn't wear boots."
Hobie glances at him. "Thanks Peter. I didn't know."
Peter doesn't have time to respond before he's running after his swinging daughter. "Just get back to work." Miguel says. "That includes you, Peter. And didn't I say not bring her here?" He sounds exasperated, as he pinches the bridge between his nose.
You spin in your seat watching as Peter sends back a 'sorry', as he disappears, running through the large exit door. Hobie is quick to follow sending you a nod and a smile.
You wave them off, feeling the tension flood back into the room now that it's just you and Miguel again. You swiftly spin back in your chair, your fingers going back to tapping, as your legs spread comfortably.
Miguel looks back at you, before running his hand down his face, muttering. "No abras las piernas como una invitación." (Don't open your legs like an invitation.)
You pause, glancing at him. "What was that?"
He glances back at you, eyeing your confused expression. You, of course, didn't know spanish.
He places his hands against the desk, leaning a fraction closer to you, his gaze fluttering across your features. "Podría decirte cualquier cosa en español y no sabrías lo que quiero decir." (I could say anything to you in Spanish and you wouldn't know what I mean.)
"You know I don't know spanish." You mutter.
"I know. And the thought of you being so unaware, makes me want to tell you..." He leans closer to your ear, making your pulse beat rapidly. "....cuanto me haces arder, cariño. (how much you make me burn inside.) And it’s beyond annoying.”
You sigh, pushing slightly away from him. "Look, I know you find me annoying." You begin. "That's fine. But just...can you at least give me somewhat of a chance?"
"Do to what?" He asks, crossing his arms, as he leans back against the desk.
"To prove I'm helpful."
"Helpful?" Miguel asks, tilting his head. "You want to be helpful?"
"Of course."
"Then find a more suitable job." He stands to walk away.
"If you want me gone, then why don't you fire me?"
He pauses for a moment. "Sadly, I need a proper reason for that. So, if you want to be helpful to me. Then fuck something up."
"But while you're here being useless you should probably learn spanish." Miguel says as he walks out the door.
You huff, staring after him, watching as his back muscles contracted in a way that made you look away, gulping. Fucking Miguel O'hara.
;;
You sit, feet up by the tech, as you tapped away on your phone. You got a congratulatory 'ding' whenever you got a word or sentence right, and a rather loud 'booing' sound when you got a word or sentence wrong.
Yes, you're trying to learn Spanish. You sadly hadn't remembered word for word what Miguel had said to you, so you couldn't put it through translation. He must have purposefully spoken fast so you wouldn't have time to catch each word and remember.
'Me gusta ir al museo.' Your phone spoke. It translated to 'I like going to the museum' You had gotten it wrong, putting ‘park’ instead.
You groan, your head knocking back as your eyes shut in annoyance. You were only smart in certain areas. You let your phone drop to the desk, as you stretch, keeping your eyes shut tight, as if you could find the Spanish language hidden behind them.
"Spanish?" A deep voice spoke, making you jump, swiftly getting to your feet and spinning.
Miguel stands in his signature spider suit, your phone in his grasp. "I didn't think you'd actually listen to me."
You snatch it back, switching it off, as you scratch the back of your neck. "I was just..." You drift off sighing. "I like this job."
Miguel watches you closely. "You're committed, I'll give you that."
You smile, the word 'progress' swirling in your brain. "I learnt a sentence." You say, brows creasing in remembrance. "Me gusta...ir al...musio?" (I like going...to the...musio?) You say this more so as a question as you meet the amused gaze of Miguel.
"Ir al museo." (To the museum) He corrects, knowing the generic 'hobbies' sentences most kids learn.
"…I was close." You say, smiling, before you realise who you're talking to, your nerves returning.
Miguel nearly kicked himself for feeling warm at the small smile that you gave. You were trying to learn spanish—loosely—for him. "Can I make you a deal?" He suddenly asks.
You narrow your eyes a fraction. "What kinda deal?"
"One where we can help each other." He mutters, stepping closer. "You want to stay, correct?"
You nod.
"Then you're gonna have to convince me that you'd do anything for a mission."
You straighten, eyes widening at the chance to prove your worth. "I lead most missions, so loosely, you'd have to do anything for me."
He's much, much closer, eyeing you. "But we can make this a ‘give and take’. Let me teach you Spanish—something you'll need working here, close by me, and in return for every lesson, you have to do something for me."
You eye him. "Like what?"
"Anything." He answers. "Because you'll have to do anything that's required for those missions. Call it practice, or proving your worth, chaparrita."
You lick your lips thinking. You can't see anything inherently wrong with this 'deal', so you nod. And that earns you the very first smile you've seen from Miguel O’hara.
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i know this is short, but I just wanted to see if any of you guys would be interested in a full fic like this…
also if you would like to be in a taglist for this story — just comment
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liliacamethyst · 10 months
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Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)
Sequel to Web of Secrets
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Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 5.2K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.
Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.
You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”
“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.
“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.
“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.
The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.
Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.
And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.
So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.
As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.
You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.
Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”
But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.
He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.
“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.
“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”
“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.
The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.
You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.
“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.
“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.
“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.
You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.
You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.
You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.
"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.
Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.
As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.
Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.
You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.
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In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.
His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.
"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.
"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”
He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.
"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."
He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.
"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."
"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.
You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"
He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."
“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.
“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”
“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”
“To be forgotten,” you whisper.
He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.”  He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.
Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.
Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.
He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates. 
Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.
 But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.
But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."
"I know," he replies curtly.
Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"
“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.
There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.
Lyla, for once, remains silent.
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3 months later…
Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.
 For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.
The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.
The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.
"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.
He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.
Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.
In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.
As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.
His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.
“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.
“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.
“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.
“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”
“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.
Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."
"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.
“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.
“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.
“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.
“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.
The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.
You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”
She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."
You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.
"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.
You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.
"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.
"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.
You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."
You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."
Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."
You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.
"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"
Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.
"Strange how?" you prod.
"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.
"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.
"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”
Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.
“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.
You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.
Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.
You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”
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4 months later…
Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.
“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.
“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.
Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.
“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.
“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”
You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.
“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.
You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."
Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”
“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.
“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.
“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.
You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.
Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.
As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him. 
“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.
Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"
Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."
“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”
With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.
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1 year later...
One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.
At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.
Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.
Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;
Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.
“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.
Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”
Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.
Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.
“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”
You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.
In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.
“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.
“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.
Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.
Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.
“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.
Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.
Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.
Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.
Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.
Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”
Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."
Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.
"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."
Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?” 
Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."
Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”
Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.
Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.
You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.
"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.
“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.
Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.
Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”
Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”
Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.
As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.
The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.
Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”
Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”
Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.
Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.
Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.
The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.
“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”
Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.
“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”
Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"
a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.
Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM
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winterzsurprise · 11 months
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Ride me? || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara (Spider-Man 2099) x F!reader
Tags: Overstimulation, rough sex, choking, squirting, vaginal fingering, big dick Miguel, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), fang kink if you squint.
Words: 1.8k
Summary: Just when you thought he's exhausted enough from chasing Miles Morales and had given you the chance to actually ride him, Miguel has other plans.
This man evokes something so feral in me that I forgot I was suffering through the worst writer's block. He got me giggling and twirling my hair yesterday at the cinema wtf. I used my very limited Mexican Spanish knowledge from watching streamers flirting in a block game for this.
cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love || guapito - handsome
Miguel isn't the type to let someone control the pace, even if he did, his hands grounded on your waist would soon guide your hips into a rhythm he prefers, hard and fast.
You've been hearing the ruckus down the spider webs, something about another version rebelling against the usual stories of every Spider-Man in the multiverse to save his dad. Knowing that your husband sits at the top as their leader, you expected him to disappear for a long period of time.
Not that you mind of course, he's had plenty of times he charges in to handle an anomaly himself.
You do have to give some kudos to the kid for trying to change reality though. After Miguel's story, nobody in the headquarters, even you, dared to defy the fates laid upon every Spider-Man.
It's been three days since he left and honestly, you didn't expect him to arrive yet. A person deterring from the fates of every Spider-Man would be hard to handle, you couldn't even imagine how difficult it'd be.
So when the doors to your apartment flew open and came to him, practically drooping from exhaustion, you were surprised.
He came earlier than expected.
"How'd the chase go?"
"I don't want to talk about it. Come here." 
Drying your hands off on the towel hanging from the wall counter, you made your way to the man laid spread and heaving on the couch. His head tipped back with his usually neatly gelled hair now haggard and messy, he looked up when he sensed your presence and immediately pulled you onto his lap.
You laughed. "Don't fall asleep here, I don't want to carry your heavy ass."
His lips tugged into a weak smile, his pointy canines briefly appearing.
"Spider-Man is supposed to help the weak, are you really ignoring a civilian in need?"
You didn't get what he meant until he pulled your hips closer, dragging your core over the tent on his pants.
You hit his arm. "Go to sleep, you must've been really tired after chasing that kid around."
"Then ride me."
You paused before narrowing your eyes at him. He's baiting you with the very thing you've wanted to do since the beginning. But the dark cloud of lust in his eyes somehow convinced you of his genuineness.
His talons dug onto your flesh, hard enough to take control of your hips to grind on top of his dick sensually while keeping eye contact with yours. You couldn't ignore the pleasure and jolts of heat electrifying and burning your nerve endings alight at every drag of your heat over his.
"I want to feel you baby, I miss you so much."
Miguel pushes you down on his hardness and you moan, the feeling of his girth finding home between your legs shot electric pleasure down your spine.
"You are a convincing man."
"And you love it."
You lunged for a kiss and instantly, one of his hands threaded itself onto the back of your head, locking you in place as your lips danced against each other in a fierce battle. The raw hunger after being starved for a week now surfacing and consuming you both, mind and body. 
His other hand guided your hips up and down his clothed dick, his deep groans and growl lit fireworks in you, igniting your determination to coax more of them out of his lips.
"Get rid of the pants or I'll rip it off of you."
"Rip it then."
He didn't need to hear you twice. 
In one quick motion, he tore your sweatpants into two before doing the same thing to your panties and throwing them somewhere in the room. He groaned as his head fell onto the crook of your neck, hands crawling up to cup your breasts before your top and bra suffered the same fate as your other clothing.
"The pants, only the pants! I loved that bra!"
"I'll buy you something better, from another universe even." He responded, almost breathless as your scent invaded every speck of his senses. Miguel groaned. "Fuck, I miss this scent of yours baby."
"I don't care, get rid of the suit."
His attire dissolved into thin air and retracted back to god-knows-where, revealing his ruffled shirt and grey sweatpants that did nothing but proclaim his clear desire for you.
"Let me prep you real good, huh?"
Retracting his talons, two of his fingers delved into your heat, immediately drenching itself with your arousal and he groaned.
"So wet for me, mi amor."
"Only for you, guapito."
Two of his digits rolled your clit sensually and with the dexterity of an experienced man, urging more of your arousal to coat his fingers further. Once he was satisfied with the amount of fluid now dripping into his pants, he wandered lower and lower until he plunged his index in, curling it up so deliciously you moaned and grinded your hips onto the slow plunge of his hand.
His eyes watched your heat like a ravenous man holding back, the feral look on his face only pulled you closer to the edge.
And it's only a finger in.
"So tight, mi vida. You treat me so well."
He added two fingers in and you screamed, his pace now rapidly gaining speed. Your eyes rolled back as your hips thrashed and clumsily followed his thrusts, there was nothing else that mattered more than coming for your darling in that moment.
Miguel groaned, watching your face twist into the most sinful display of pleasure he has ever seen. The pride and smugness from knowing it was all because of him made him smile.
Only he could see you in such a state and no one else.
You clenched around his digits, tempting him to finally take the dive. Although his fingers coaxed pleasure out of you with no problem, you missed the feeling of his dick carving your insides, stretching you thin and reminding your cunt who it belongs to.
But Miguel ignored the bait and instead hastened up while curling up to push on your g-spot. You almost blacked out from the euphoria he feeds you, a coil in your stomach tightened and you moaned.
"I'm cl-close… Fuck!"
"Give it to me baby, I want it all."
It didn't last long until the coil exploded and your arousal squirts out of your cunt to drench Miguel's shirt, whose gaze turned a shade darker at the scene when you peered down to meet his gaze.
A tense atmosphere rose from his mere gaze and goosebumps prickled your skin. Your heartbeat jumped through the roofs as you stared back at his dark eyes, he triggered your spidey sense.
And for some sick reason, it only ignited the simmering arousal in the pits of your abdomen.
"Fuck the ride, you're not getting up until I say so, cariño."
You barely sensed him flipping you both, with you now seated and spread on the sofa while he stood in front of you, hastily removing his remaining clothing as if it angered him.
It didn't take long until his hand cautiously wrapped around your neck and his other, pinning your hips as he plunged himself deep into your cunt. You screamed as he pushed more of him, inch by inch. He stretched you out to the point of no return, the burn of his cock carving you open once more made you light-headed.
And he loves nothing more but seeing the cock-drunk look on your face.
Miguel grinned, his fangs protruding so attractively. "God, I love how fucked you look for me, cariño. Give me more."
He pulls and plunged himself back in, shooting hot white pleasure in your body. Miguel didn't wait long before his usual hard and rough pace started. The hand around your throat tightened and your mind turned woozy from the lack of oxygen, his thrust taking your breath away only evoking the feeling of nirvana within you.
He drove in you hard and quick enough you can distantly hear the couch legs wincing as it gets pushed back with every plunge of his dick.
"Fuck…!"
"That's right darling, I'm fucking my sweet cariño open and wide for me."
The electric shocks the head of his cock briefly grazing the head of your uterus sent your legs flailing on his sides. Growing bothered by them, he halts to rest them on his wide shoulders and wraps his arm around your thigh before entering somehow deeper into you.
Your hands found his meaty thigh and dug itself onto it and it encouraged him to go even faster, pushing you closer to the edge and you swore you could see the pearly gates of the heavens.
"I'm co-coming…! Miguel!"
"Give it to me baby, you know how much I love seeing you convulse so helplessly around me."
The hand on your throat left to find purchase on your clit, rubbing you as fast his cock plunges into you.
With a scream, you came. 
Your legs trembled violently on his shoulder as more of your arousal spurts out of your heat, white hot pleasure burned and stirred every nerve ending awake as your eyes rolled back.
But this doesn't seem to be enough for Miguel who only took a break to see your thighs convulse before continuing his thrusts.
You hit his thighs as he kickstarted another orgasm now bubbling in the pit of your stomach but he paid no heed. 
Not that you minded of course, if anything, it only pleases the sick bastard in your head, wishing to be used and fucked so well by your husband like it's your sole purpose.
"I'm so close, baby. Can you give me another one? Surely you can, right?"
His fingers rubbed your clit to the point of pain yet it somehow enhanced the pleasure growing larger in your chest and you screamed. Miguel bent down to rest his sweaty forehead on your shoulder, in the clouded state you were in, you could make out the sharp points of his canines pushing down your skin.
The threat of his bite shot jolts down to your heavily beaten cunt, once again tightening its coil. The frequent groans and low growls escaping his lips alone told you he's near to climax.
And with that, he's dragging you down with him.
"Please please please, give it to me…!"
"Yes, cariño. Anything, Anything for you."
With a couple of thrust, scorching hot explodes inside of you and Miguel slows down, almost into a halt as he rides down his high. The face of pure unadulterated ecstasy painting his face, along with his fingers, you came with another shout.
When he's calmer, he lets his sweaty body fall into your arms before reaching around to do the same. 
As your breathing returns to normal and the fog in your head clears, Miguel places a gentle kiss on your temple and cheeks.
"I love you so much, cariño."
"I love you more, guapito."
8K notes · View notes
plum-writes · 6 months
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❤︎︎❥🝮Praise kink with Miguel Ohara🝮❥❤︎︎
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He loves it.
He needs it.
He craves it.
He cant hold in his wanton moan when he’s pumping into you from behind, his arm under your neck and shoving your back against his hard chest as you gasp out how ‘fucking good you’re making me feel, papi’.
Your words make him even more feral, and he shoves you guys further into the bed, twisting your face with his hand so he can kiss you, your neck craning back to meet his full lips. It’s a messy, possessive kiss, full of tongue and teeth and spit. Its sloppy and uncoordinated, translating just how hungry you make him feel.
‘¿Si, mami? Making you feel that good?’ He growls against your lips, and your hand flys out to clutch his neck, to keep him closer to you as you sigh out a ‘yes baby, making me feel so fulllll.’
He’ll feel empowered by the praise and won’t stop rutting his hips into you, grasping you closer to him with one hand, his other sneaking down to swipe at and rub your clit tenderly. It’s soaked where you guys are connected, so wet that he’ll feel your wetness cling to his fingers when they brush at your clit. Already there are strings of your juices that cling at his pelvis, and the sight is so erotic, Miguel groans at the sight. He won’t be able to stop himself from sucking his fingers into his mouth with a dirty little moan that has you clenching harshly around him with a choked off little gasp. Your legs tense, knees bending and back arching against his hard chest as you feel the slippery slide of your guys’ sweat against each other, making you feel even more needy for him.
‘Miguel, Miguel, Miguel, pleaseeee baby…’ you beg for him like a broken record, whining so prettily for him.
This makes him shove his cock in harder against you, grunting in your ear. ‘C’mon, tell me how good I fuck you, bebita. Tell me how good you feel.’
You shout out when he thrusts extra hard inside you and pinches your clit at the same time, the pain mixed with pleasure combination making you breathlessly smile and loop your arm backwards to grasp his neck.
‘Fuck! You know how good you make me feel, Miguel- oh! So. Fucking. Good.’
Miguel huffs and groans, his hips moving faster and fingers rubbing and swiping wetly against your clit, your own hips bucking against his. He hits that sweet spot inside of you, and you let him know with an abrupt shout, making him angle his thrusts to hit that spot every time from then on. He feels his climax approaching fast, his balls clenching and cock pulsing in your wet heat, and your words doing nothing more than furthering the familiar tightness growing in his belly.
‘Oh Miguel yesyesyes, so good.’
‘Just like that Miguel, fucking love that-‘
‘Oh baby, I love you, I love you, fucking my pussy so good-‘
You guys both cum not too long after that.
And in the afterglow of the moment, after you guys get all cleaned up and he pulls up his sweats and you put on his t shirt that fits more like a short little dress on you, he’ll bask in the sweet words that you’ll still be muttering in his ear.
You’ll crawl towards him when he sits back on the bed, a big smile on your lips as you wrap yourself around him, shifting yourself on the pillows gathered at the headboard where he’s leaning back against. You curl your leg around one of his meaty thighs, and drape an arm over his chest while the other goes up to play with his mussed, bedridden hair. And then your precious words start.
‘Oh you made me feel so good baby.’
‘Always making me feel so good, no matter what.’
‘I love you Miguel, so much. The only one I love.’
‘The only one that can make me feel this way.’
‘No one else.’
He soaks it all up with half lidded eyes, and a little smirk on his face. The arm that’s wrapped around your waist pulls you closer. He kisses all over your face, his smirk turning into a fond smile at your giggles, and the feel of your arms wrapping around him to pull him even closer to you.
He loves these moments, loves when you whisper sweet nothings in his ear while rubbing his chest, finger stroking the planes of his body, holding him close to you. Often times, these moments also leads to more sexual rendezvous. He’ll slip his hand between your thighs to finger you till you cum with his name on your lips, or suck your tits under his your shirt while you give him a handy through his pants. And sometimes it’ll lead to him fucking you again just so he can hear all the dirty little words you still have for him. Anything to hear those beautiful, fulfilling words fall from your mouth.
‘You make me feel so good, Miguel.’
And what Miguel doesn’t know, is that most times you can see right through him. You can see his desire to want to know how good he makes you feel. How he’ll want you to express just how much you need him. How much you want him.
So in the middle of your litany of praises, you’ll climb over his lap, slow and sensual. You’ll tug his sweatband to free his cock and you’ll ride him just like that. Your hands cupping his face, hips grinding slowly and intimately against his with your mouth never ceasing the onslaught of love ridden words.
You love him.
And you have no problem letting him know.
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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months
Note
hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼
Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??
First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣
Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…
Part 2
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You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.
‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.
He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.
For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.
‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’
‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.
‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.
‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’
He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.
‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.
‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.
Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’
Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.
‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.
As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.
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cupcakeinat0r · 2 months
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Thinkin' abt DadBod!Miguel at the gym <3
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You'd been going to the gym routinely, or at least trying to. You decided to go after working up the courage and convincing yourself that this was just for fun. That your body was your temple, and you were tending to it, no matter how it looked <3
The first week wasn't so bad. After embarrassingly tripping on equipment or accidentally dropping weights here and there, it was alright! Though at times, it was still difficult to stay consistent, until one day, you saw him.
Over on the other side of the gym, curling some dumbbells (100s, mind you), was a total 6-foot, thick, hairy dream of a man. You first noticed his chiseled face adorned by fine lines, locks of black hair framing it. With each draw of the weights, his biceps bulged. Beads of sweat trickled down his bulky chest and wide shoulders. When your eyes wander downward, you're surprised to not find washboard abs.
Oh no, what you find instead excites you even more than any pack of abs could offer you.
Your mouth waters slightly to find that his tank top has ridden up slightly over his hefty belly, graciously allowing a peek at a happy trail, its path sadly blocked by some basketball shorts (his cute bubble butt and giant dick print made up for it tho).
Despite his low, breathy grunts and intense crimson gaze towards his own reflection, he was making it look easy. You thought about how easy it'd probably be for him to carry you bride-style and throw you onto a bed before spreading your legs with those enormous hands so he could feast until your eyes crossed. Or how it'd be effortless for him to hold you tightly with your legs wrapped around that stocky midsection of his while he bullied his-
"'scuse me, you waiting for this bench?" a deep voice snaps you out of a daydream. You see the man is now looking at you with what looks like a knowing smirk. Fuck, he noticed you staring.
"Oh! N-no, was just looking for the 10s!" You blurt, evoking a velvety chuckle and dashing smile from him.
"Right over there." He motions with his chin toward the weight rack where the 10s are obviously displayed. After you thanked him, He smiled and nodded back to you, turning back toward the mirror to do his last set.
The second week felt like no problem. Instead of dragging yourself to the gym, you looked forward to it, scanning for your new gym crush every time you entered.
You'd feel a lil surge of happiness when you do find him there, feeling brave enough to exchange smiles and sometimes even little waves from across the gym. One time, the older man made you swoon when he winked at you upon entering the gym. After seeing your cute reaction, this would be how he greeted you every time.
The third week came You're at the squat rack, feeling stronger than usual, so you opt to go the heaviest you've ever gone. Big mistake. By the third rep, you fail to get back up, panicking and legs shaking. Just when you feel yourself start to fall, you see a pair of hands dart toward the bar from behind you, lifting it with ease and allowing you to stand back up. The bar is re-racked and you turn to find gym bae.
"You okay?" he gently prompts, a worried look on his face.
"Yes, thank you... think I might've gone too heavy." you nervously chuckle. He does as well, seeing that you're alright.
"Next time you go for a PR, you need to ask for a spotter, hun." He gives you that dashing smile again, his hands on his love handles.
"Yeah, I probably should've," you lower your head in defeat, "I didn't bring anyone with me though."
"You could've asked me," He says matter of factly as if it should've been obvious that he should be the one to spot you. "I would've done it with no problem, mama." His pet names make your womanhood pulse.
You look back up at him, your lips curled into a shy smile.
"C'mon, let's try again." "No, no, mama, I got that, I'll put it away for you." "Keep your knees like this-theeeere you go. "Gimme one more, mama, just one more, you can do it." "Atta girl! Good job, mamita."
You learned that his name is Miguel. He'd become your designated spotter on leg days, the sensation of his larger frame against yours making you nervous in the best way.
Your favorite is when his tummy accidentally brushes against your back, and borderline, your ass, and if not his tummy, it'd be his prominent bulge (which isn't there bc he gets to spot the adorable girl with an amazing ass from the gym... totally not that).
On the Fourth week, Miguel would ask you if you wanted to be workout buddies altogether. Of course, you accept, in which he asks for your number so like that, he can text you when he's going and vice versa.
It's the fifth week, and you both have worked out together a couple times already. Miguel texted you in the morning asking if you'd like to join him, which you were totally down for.
You two started with lateral pull-downs. Once it was your turn, you sat on the machine and reached for the handle, pulling it as you began your set.
Anytime you felt like you wanted advice or correction, Miguel eagerly helped you.
His hands would stay on your waist, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Mhm, there you go, you're doin' so good, mama." He praises in almost a whisper.
If only he knew he was making the exercise only harder. As if that weren't enough, his finger would occasionally message your hip. Your bodies were so close that you were able to hear each satisfied hum from his lips, suggesting you were doing the exercise right.
"Good girl, that was better. You feel it now?" He says, letting go to let you off the machine.
"Yeah, thank you! When it comes to upper body, I'll need all the help I can get. I'm just glad I’m getting it from an upper-body master." You flirtatiously add, playfully poking at one of his biceps.
This makes him blush, but only for a moment before he returns with a cocky response, "Thanks, hun. I'm glad to be working out with a leg-day goddess."
Now it was your turn to blush, except you didn't have any smart comeback, boosting Miguel's ego.
"Listen, let me treat you to smoothie after this, yeah?" He says it more like a statement than a request, and you happily oblige.
What you were expecting was a simple, cheap smoothie from a spot you usually go to, but instead, you're met with a drive-thru menu listing shakes from $20 and up. Oh he got moneyyyy.
Miguel tells you to pick any that looks good to you. He orders for himself and you as well, parking the car once the two of you get the smoothies.
As he sips from the cup, you take the opportunity to subtly glance at his figure, his muscles, how his pecs sit beautifully on top of his soft belly, his thighs constrained by the confines of his gym shorts. You think how badly you wanna sit there, grinding on the print 'til there was a wet spot-
"Something on your mind, mama?" You look back at him, taking a few seconds to register his words.
You hastily look back down at your drink and shake your head, “Nothing… thank you so much for this, it’s delicious!”
then he grabs the shoulder of your chair to lean toward you, “Of course, mama, but I don’t think you’re being completely truthful with me, hm?”
You look at him, playfully shaking your head again, knowing full well you’ve been caught.
“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, hm? dime.” He puts the smoothie into the cup holder to free his other hand, placing it on your thigh, and softly squeezes it. “Just say the word, and you’ll get anything you want.”
Your lips curl slyly as you think of a response.
“Well… we never did cardio.”
Now you were here in his car, being bounced on his fat dick on the passenger seat, holding onto his his big shoulders for dear life. You were basically his fleshlight at this point… with those big hands.
You could feel his body now taut against yours, your tits bouncing relentlessly, his muscled, thick thighs below your ass, his balls slapping against your pussy lips, his bush tickling your clit, his pelvis pushing your ass up and his curved belly against your front side. It all was sending you into euphoria.
With you vigorously bouncing on his cock and his beautiful moaning, you fully let go. “Aw yes, Daddy,“ you mumbled without thinking.
In fact, you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was this fat cock and your pussy was memorizing all its veins and curves.
“Mmfuck baby, yea, say that again f’me”, he groaned through gritted teeth as he mercilessly bounced you down his painfully hard shaft.
“Please, Daddy, please!” You whined with your hands desperately seeking support on his big shoulders.
You can feel the sheet of sweat on his belly and on his thighs, which turned the smacking of your ass sound even more lewd.
“Fuck, say it again.” He growled, getting faster now.
“Mmmm, Daddy— Daddy, pleaseeee.”
“Louder, baby, c’mon—“
“UNGH DADDYYYY”
“Oh FUCK… you wanted cardio, baby, I’ll give you cardio… fuckin’ take it… coño.” Your panting became synchronized with every pound of his cock into your abused and bruised cunt, getting higher and higher in pitch, firing him up to go faster and harder.
“Gonna cum on this fat cock, right? Gonna cum f’me, mami?” He ordered, dropping octaves from his usual gentle tone with you.
“Mmmnn, Nnyesyyesyesyes—“ you babbled, the shakiness of your voice the result of the aggressive bouncing.
“Ah… carajo…” his cock accidentally slips out from your cunt, making you wince from the sudden empty sensation, “ungh!”
Holding up your ass, he takes a moment to admire the view, hissing from the sight of his angrily red cock and veins pulsing from your cunt sucking him in so deliciously. A ring of your cream erotically placed at the base of his length, just above his perfect bush. He guides his fat tip back to your dripping cunt using his thumb, pushing it back into your swollen folds.
He was back to ramming into your abused cunt in no time, chasing each others high’s.
“C’mon…fuck, c’mon, mama, you’re almost there…. Aw f-fuck… almost there…” he moans with his brows knitted and through a clenched jaw.
“Daddy I’m g’na— I’m cummingimcummingimcumming—“
“Aw, fuck, asi— asi mami— ah, ah…” Miguel holds back choked whines as he get closer, not allowing himself to let go until he knew you came first.
You speak in gibberish before crying into your climax, Miguel letting out a long, exasperated groan when he reaches his. You can feel his hot cum overfilling you, making you whine as it leaks down your thigh.
After draining himself completely, making sure every drop was in you, he gently pulls out, “Fuck… you did so good for me, mama… so good.”
Miguel lets you rest against his heaving chest and soft belly, rubbing your back as you caught your breath. You smiled a tired smile when you notice how hard Miguel is breathing as well, knowing you worked him out, too.
“You ok, mamita?” He plants a tender kiss on your shoulder, making a trail up your neck and finally to your forehead.
“Mhm,” you hum, you look up at him and are met with his plump, wet lips, tongues becoming entangled with each other as he groans into your mouth.
“I say… we do cardio like this every day.”
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A/n: Haiii, I hope u liked it <3 Love my man sm <3 None of my gym baes could ever compare to himmmmm😭😭😭
@angel-of-the-moons Ty Ty Ty my luv for planting the seed in my head <3
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!
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kestisvrse · 2 months
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you don’t know me
pairing ⋆ spidey!luke castellan x gn!reader au. fluff with a bit of angst. friends to lovers.
synopsis ⋆ spider-man appears at your window for help, and accidentally reveals his identity.
warnings ⋆ blood descriptions, stitching, swearing, stranger danger tbh, bit dramatic(?), kinda rushed i apologize | wc: 2.5k
a/n ⋆ i hate the ending of this so feel free to not read it😭😭
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♫ - jackie and wilson by hozier
1:33am
it was hard trying to stay awake at this time, sound of the rain against your window and the soft snores of your roommates made it was easy to focus on closing your tired eyes instead of looking over all the notes scattered on your desk, it seemed nothing could stop you from drifting off to the peaceful place despite the thought of your sore neck in the morning from being slouched over your desk, but three taps against your window made your eyes shoot open.
he regretted it immediately, as he watched your head rise from the desk, but what else could he do? he gripped his side as he watched you mumble to yourself at the sight of spider-man on your fire escape, but you quickly opened the window.
“what the fuck?” you whisper at the sight, the heavy rain began to cover your window sill and floor but you didn’t even notice.
“hi, um i know this must seem very odd..” the superhero in front of you trailed off as you let him in, “shit, i’m bleeding on your carpet.”
“what- oh shit!” you gasp, noticing the giant gash he gripped on his torso, without a second thought you grabbed his hand and dragged him into your private bathroom, pushing him to sit on the toilet as you rummaged in your cupboards, as you pulled out a first-aid kit, you rummaged for supplies, “can i ask why the hell spider-man is bleeding in my bathroom right now?”
“i- i lost a lot of blood, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to my place in time.” he lied, “not to sound creepy but i saw your light on and.. and i needed help.”
“can you take the top half of your suit off?” you ask, washing your hands, as if you hadn’t even acknowledged what he had said. he nods, unzipping the back and removing his arms from the sleeves, letting the suit rest at his waist, his mask still hiding his identity, “this will hurt.” you warn, even though he had definitely experienced worse than a wound being wiped down.
but still he winced, clenching his jaw, as you realized it wasn’t just a cut, he had been stabbed.
“thank god you stumbled across a med-students dorm.” you mumble to yourself, trying to lighten the mood as you get ready to stitch his side together, as he went to laugh at your comment he was interrupted by a groan of pain emitting from his throat.
“i know it hurts, but try to be quiet. if you wake clarisse, my roommate up, she will not make this situation any better.” you say, luke holds back a laugh knowing it was definitely true, he bites down on his lower lip as you stitch him up. luckily it was a shallow cut,.
you worked in silence, occasionally broken up by strewn out swears and winces from the superhero, biting your lip in concentration. as you tied together the final stitch you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.
“okay, the hard part is done.” you informed him, wiping down any excess blood that stained his skin.
“thanks.” he mutters weakly, moving to adjust his posture but immediately freezing as pain shoots up his body.
“stay still.” you say, “i still have to bandage it.” pulling out medical tape and gauze out of your medical bag, he felt as your hands occasionally slipped off the white bandage and touched his stomach. the pain almost subsided as the feeling of your fingertips burned into him. wrapping the bandage around his torso and taping it down you lean back on your knees, letting out a sigh.
he focuses on you as you stand, washing blood off your hands in the sink before cleaning up your supplies, you glance at him catching him staring, as he pretends to admire your bathroom as if he hadn’t been in here before.
“um-“ he clears his throat, “sorry for bleeding on your floor.” he mentioned, guilt evident in his voice.
“s’okay, i didn't like that carpet much anyways.” you say, which was a lie. luke remembered vividly how happy you were to get what you called, ‘the best rug ever’ for your room, his brows furrow.
you lean back against the bathtub, letting out a sigh, he goes to move but you nudge him with your foot, “don’t go just yet, won’t be good to swing on new stitches.” you explained to him, as he leaned back against the back of the toilet.
his breathing was sharp and inconsistent as his stomach stung in pain, his eyes squeezed shut, “the only thing i have for pain is like advil and tylenol. i don’t know if that helps with stab wounds though.” you spoke up, he shakes his head in response.
“i’ll be fine, just- just need to catch my breath.” to which you nodded in response.
“can i get you water?” you suggest, quickly standing as a ‘please’ is heard from under the mask, him suddenly noticing the scratchy and dry feeling of his throat. you rush out the room, tiptoeing into the kitchen to grab water for the superhero, as you return and hand it to him, you spin around so he can remove his mask.
his face was red as he watched you carefully, slipping his mask above his nose to gulp down the glass. scared you’d spin around to discover it was your friend bleeding out in the bathroom.
but you didn’t, as he pulled the mask back down and placed the cup on the counter, is when you turned and returned to your spot on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest.
he begins to shuffle uncomfortably on the toilet, breathing harder as his back slouched and his body tensed. the bandages felt tight on him, as he resisted the urge to rip them off, he was quickly distracted as you kneeled in front of him, placing your hand on his exposed wrist.
tingles shot up his body at the feeling of your skin against his again, it felt so odd, knowing he had hugged and brushed past you so many times but this was different, every touch had him blushing as butterflies flew around his stomach, he didn’t know you felt the same way, but with luke, not spider-man.
“control your breathing, your pulse is out of control.” you breathe, your pointer and middle finger pressed against his wrist feeling his pulse.
he began to focus on your breathing, watching as your chest rose and fell while you seemingly seemed focused on the wall of the bathroom. he quickly matched his breathing with yours, sitting up straight as your hand pulled away from him.
“thank you, for helping me.” he stammered, suddenly self conscious of his voice, how hadn’t you recognized it?
“i mean, what else was i supposed to do? there was a superhero at my window sill.” you scoff in disbelief, “it’s fine, i mean, it’s the least i can do for you keeping me- uh new york, safe.” you clear your throat, staring at your hands that rest atop your knees. “can i ask you something?”
his throat dries, “yeah?”
“i mean- obviously don’t answer if it’s too personal or gives away your identity, but.” you tilt my head, “do you like… live a normal life during the day? or are you always spider-man?” you ask cautiously.
he pauses to think about his answer, narrowing his eyes at you, “oh yeah, i-i do have a normal life during the day.” he confesses, the hand that grasped his stomach moves to scratch the back of his neck.
“cool.” you reply, stopping yourself from question him farther.
“you aren’t asking any questions,” he stated quietly, almost in disbelief. as he spoke, he shifted his attention to your face. “i was expecting some like freaked out reactions. but you’re... you’re really chill about this.”
“you have a secret identity for a reason, i wouldn’t want to ruin that for you. you keep the city safe, and that’s all i need to know.” you shrug in response, staring at the white eyes of his mask.
“i mean it’s so crazy.” you say randomly, causing his head to tilt in confusion, “i’ve thought about it before you know, imagine one of my friends was a masked superhero.” he tenses, knowing that in fact it was true, “like my friend luke, he’s always disappearing at random moments.” his eyes widen but you don’t notice because of the mask, chuckling to yourself at the thought.
“yeah, imagine that.” he murmurs in response, suddenly very sweaty in stress.
“how’re you feeling?” you turn your attention back to him.
“still hurts a lot, but i should go now.” he explains, his hand on the counter to steady himself as he stands, “again, thank you so much.”
you walk to the window, opening it and helping him climb out onto the fire escape, “again” you repeat him, “it’s the least i could do.”
4:56pm
you yawn as you open the door revealing luke castellan, bag swung over his shoulder and hair messy from the wind, he gave you a lopsided smile, “ready to study?”
you shake your head as he enters your apartment, “i was studying all night, barely got sleep.” you respond, leading him to your room.
he just nods his head at you in response, cheeks growing hot, sure you were studying, before his alter ego stumbled through your window.
as he walked into your room, he immediately took notice of the spot of your carpet that had been rolled over, to cover the evidence of the blood stain. his stare lingered there, before quickly collecting himself to sit on your bed.
“i made these flashcards for you last night.” you break the silence, holding up pastel green cards, “ready to be tested, castellan?” you tease, plopping onto the bed and leaning against the headboard as he takes his jacket off.
“oh bless you for those.” he praised, comfortably laying down at the end of your feet.
“just admit i’m your favourite person.” you giggle, he rolls his eyes before encouraging you to begin.
thirty minutes past as you tested him, reaching the end before you would swap over, “alright” you clear your throat, “next- luke?” your gaze drifts up from the card.
“yeah?” he asked, waiting for you to continue.
“you’re bleeding.” you point at his shirt, he looks down to find his blue t-shirt slowly bleed red, dripping down his side. immediately, he reacted by pressing down as hard as he could against the wound, a small whimper escaping his lips in the process.
“what-“ you cut yourself off, to look up into his eyes, eyes widening in the process “no fucking way.”
he tore his attention away from his wound, blood seeping into your bed sheets, “i-“ in a flash you’re up from the bed, cards spilling onto the floor as you yank him up causing him to yelp. he sits down on the toilet as you rummage for the first aid kit, again.
“take off your shirt.” you demanded, and despite the surprise this brought him, he didn’t resist. he removed his shirt almost immediately, revealing the bloody coated bandages.
you stared at his chest, the fact that it was the exact same as spider-mans made you wanna scream, but you held back, removing the bandages and staying quiet to patch him up, too scared to speak.
luke stayed silent, staring at you with sad eyes, praying you would forgive him. he winced every so often at the sting of you restitching some stitches that came loose, and rewrapping his stomach with fresh gauze.
your lips pursed together as you washed your hands, refilling the same cup from last night with water and placing it beside him before walking off into your room. luke quickly tugs hair shirt back on, ignoring the blood stain and the pain that shot up his body at the sudden movement, before going to stand in front of you in your room, “i’m sorry.” he whispers.
“you could have died, and it would have been my fault.” you remarked, “can you imagine? spider-man dies in my bathroom and i take his mask off to reveal my best fucking friend.” you scoffed, tears covering your waterline.
his expression softened, as he nudged your foot with his, “but i didn’t.”
“but you could have!” you yell, shooting up to stand in front of him, “jesus luke, this is what you’ve been doing all year? this is why you disappear all the time?” he stares at his shoes as you rub your forehead.
“i’m sorry,” he whispered, a sad expression covering his face, as he blinked rapidly, “i’m sorry for putting you through that. i didn’t mean to worry you.”
“you-you’re spider-man.” you gasp out, in disbelief. your hand clutches your chest as tears roll out onto your cheeks. his hand brushes your bicep as you flinch.
“yeah… yeah i am.” he sighs, guiding you to sit back down on your bed, “i wish i hadn’t come here last night but- i wouldn’t have been able to stitch that up myself.” he sighed as you sobbed into your hands.
“you could have died.” you choke out, repeating yourself before falling into his side, almost on instinct he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back comfortingly. he knew you wouldn’t respond well if he had ever told you, but he hadn’t thought about how you would feel to him almost dying in your bathroom.
“i’m okay. i promise.” he breathed into your hair, but you just shook your head in response, unable to respond as you tried to catch your breath.
“i don’t care if i am fast asleep, if this ever happens again, you come to me luke, i stitch you up.” you begged, looking up to him teary eyed.
his gaze softens looking at you but nodded in response, “okay, i promise.” his hand hovers over you neck, “i didn’t want to put you in danger or worry you. i would have told you. i was also scared you wouldn’t… wouldn’t look at me the same” he whispered.
“you’re still luke castellan, i still will like you no matter what, you just… you scared the shit out of me.” you sputtered out, not thinking about what you were saying to the boy in front of you, his body tensed.
“like me?” he asks, brows furrowed to see if you meant as friends or.. as more. he got his answer as he watched your eyes widen slightly and you began to stutter, “you… you like me?”
“what- no i meant-“ you shake your head so hard he thought it might spin off, and so he took his chance. the hand that hovered over your neck held your face still as he connected his lips with yours.
you found yourself unable to kiss back in shock, he heats up in embarrassment as he began to pull away, which brought you to your senses as you pulled him back down to press a soft kiss against his lips.
he pulled away for air, leaning your foreheads against each other.
“i can’t believe i accused you of being a secret superhero, while infront of you last night.” you mumbled, as he just laughed in response and shook his head.
“i promise to be more safe, just for you.” he said, leaning in to peck your lips.
1K notes · View notes
jeonsweetpea · 9 months
Text
Devoted to Trouble
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Spider-Man!AU | Peter Parker!Jungkook x Reader
genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst
rating: explicit
description: In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world?
word count: 11.5k
warnings: Seven JK… need I say more? JK being a SIMP, JK being a flirt, the entirety of the Seven MV being Peter Parker/Spider-Man coded, JK being a dork, JK is persistent and annoying but in an endearing way, fake death, cursing, the most respectable fuck boy!JK, he just loves you so much
smut warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), standing 69, dirty talk, protected sex, face-riding, breast play, strength kink, standing sex, missionary, serpent’s embrace, that line from his working out live, multiple orgasms, sir kink, 
a/n: Hello! IT IS DONE. My two loves combined in one, Spider-Man + Jungkook! I just love the idea of JK being such an unserious Spider-Man/Peter Parker who only loves you and wants you and voila! He is your lovesick loser. :))) I sure hope you love him as much as I do. Feel free to let me know what you think! Thank you for reading. 
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Monday
You didn’t know why you bothered dressing up for dinner when the end goal was to turn Jungkook down. After his identity was revealed to the public (source unknown), panic set in, and you realized that a future together was not possible. However, out of courtesy, you decided not to flake on the date after promising him. The boy was ecstatic, and deep down, you suspected his ego loved the fact he won over someone like you, who had consistently turned him down.
As you approached the restaurant door, someone unexpectedly rushed past you to open it himself. Startled by the sudden action, you jumped in surprise. 
“Jungkook? Oh my god, you scared me!” you exclaimed. He offered an apologetic smile, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. You noticed his heavy breathing, wondering if he had exerted himself. “Did you run here?”
“Yeah, I was stopping a heist nearby and didn’t want you to wait long,” he replied.
Your heart softened at his thoughtfulness, but it also served as a reminder of why a future together would be challenging. “You didn’t have to waste your stamina. I just got here.”
“Trust me, babe. I have plenty of stamina.” 
His mischievous grin earned an eye roll from you as you entered the restaurant. Following closely behind, he effortlessly secured a table for the two of you, thanks to his well-established reputation. The table was smack dab in the middle of the restaurant, where guests took advantage and began gawking and whispering about you two. You did your best to ignore them while Jungkook hurriedly pulled out your chair and took his place across from you. 
“Thank you.”
It was impossible to ignore his striking appearance. He exuded an irresistible charm in his black leather jacket and white graphic tee, his long hair partially parted, his lip piercing accentuating his stupidly handsome face. He was pure temptation, staring you straight in the face, but you had to remain strong.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he commented, his gaze momentarily glancing at your cleavage before meeting your eyes once more. You scoffed, though deep down you knew the dress you hugged your figure perfectly. 
“Really? My boobs?” you retorted.
“What? Am I not supposed to admire them when they’re so perfect and right in front of me?” he playfully responded. 
“At least try to be subtle.”
“I don’t want to be. There’s no reason to hide my appreciation when I’m in the presence of someone so beautiful. I want you to know that every single day.”
A rush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “Thank you. You’re… pretty beautiful yourself.”
“Aw, thanks,” he quipped, executing a dramatic hair flip. “I know.”
You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, eliciting a smile from him. He took joy in making you laugh. However, you quickly cleared your throat, keeping your objective in mind. 
“So Jungkook um… I have something to tell you,” you began. 
“Okay, cool. I do too.”
“I want to go first. I—”
Unfortunately, the waiter interrupted at that moment, inquiring about your drink preferences. Jungkook swiftly ordered two glasses of red wine and then refocused his attention on you.
“You were saying?”
“I um… I need a drink. Let me have a drink first before I say anything,” you nervously said, mentally kicking yourself for being such a chicken. 
“Okay, then can I go first?”
“Sure.”
“Will you be my girlfriend? Like officially?”
The question caught you off guard, causing you to almost choke on nothing. You hadn’t anticipated him asking that until after the date. Damn. He was derailing your plan. 
As the waiter came back with the two glasses of wine and placed them on the table, he asked you what you wanted to eat. Jungkook asked for a moment to look over the menu before the waiter left. 
“So? What do you say?” he asked, flashing you that cheeky grin of his. You had to stand up for yourself and express your true feelings to him. This was a waste of time and he had to understand that, despite what your heart desired. 
“Jungkook, I came here for one reason and one reason only.”
He lowered his head and shook it, sensing that whatever you were about to say wouldn't be something he wanted to hear. “Uh oh, this doesn’t sound good. The date just started, love. Did I do something wrong? Was I too forward?”
"No, well, yes, but that's not the point. I just—this is a waste of time. It won’t work out between us,” you stammered. 
He raised his head, still shaking his head in denial. “How do you know if we don’t try?”
“I’m not interested in being in a relationship.”
“Really? Is that so?”
“Yes, it is so. We’re done.”
He narrowed his eyes and chuckled, amused by your determination. “Break me off another time, darling. Let’s see how the evening goes first, hmm?”
You had to fight that tingle in your body every time he called you a nickname. “Let me make it crystal clear. I am not interested in being with a superhero.”
“Ah, there it is. Babe, don’t worry. I won’t let my Spider-Man duties affect us.”
You rested your elbows on the table and gestured with your hands as you expressed your frustrations.
“But they will. Sorry, but superheroes aren’t boyfriend material. They always end up suffering. I don’t want to spend everyday worrying about you getting hurt or possibly dying. Shoot, I don’t want to die. You’re not even the slightest bit worried about your enemies coming here right now? I’m afraid for my life!”
You observed his face for any sign of a reaction, noticing his eyes wandering the room as his lips moved slightly. Straining your ears, you could hear him humming the tune of the song playing in the restaurant.
“Are you seriously singing right now?!” you asked, enraged at him not taking you seriously. In that instant, some of the lights flickered and the ground trembled, causing the wine glasses on the shelves in the back to wobble. Another powerful shake startled the elderly couple at the table next to yours, prompting them to stand up in shock.
Jungkook stopped humming and offered you a warm smile. “Sorry, it was a catchy song. I was listening.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Yes, I was. Babe, nothing’s going to happen to you. I’ll make sure of that.”
“You can’t be sure of that. You’re not psychic.”
“No, but I’m Spider-Man. I’ll protect you. Look, I get it. It’s scary and I know you’ve been let down before in the past from other guys. But I’ll love you right.” The way he spoke with a pout was killing you.
“No. It won’t work out.”
“... Then let me fuck you right,” You gave him a judgemental glare and he added on, “All day everyday. Seven days a week.”
He even put up seven fingers to emphasize his point. 
“Okay, that’s a big proposition that not even you could fulfill.”
“Well let me fulfill that sweet pussy of yours tonight and you’ll see.”
“Good god, Jeon! How are you so nonchalant about your identity being revealed?!”
You found yourself leaning back in your chair, utterly stunned, as a chandelier plummeted from the ceiling. The resounding crash failed to startle either of you because of how engrossed you were in the conversation. Jungkook shrugged at your question. 
“Because, at the end of the day, I’m still me. I’m human. I pay rent, I buy groceries—living my life like any other person. I’m not letting this identity thing stop me from doing what I love. Which hopefully includes you in this case,” he replied with a flirtatious wink. 
Frustration mixed with a tinge of concern welled up within you as you rose from your seat. He had just dropped the “L” word and so casually too. You didn’t know how to handle it. In that moment, a much larger explosion erupted directly behind you, causing you to cower in fear. Although the debris lightly brushed against your back, you stumbled. However, Jungkook swiftly caught you in his lap, flashing a bright smile as if this was a normal occurrence. Which for him, sure, but not for you. 
“Are you okay?” he asked.
You bit your lip, struggling to articulate your thoughts into a coherent sentence and decided to leave. Jungkook followed, reaching out and grabbing your shoulder. In frustration, you spun around, attempting to shake him off.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about!”
“Are you okay?” he repeated, his voice taking on a more earnest tone. 
“... Yes. But we won’t work out. I’m sorry.”
This time, you exited the restaurant, and Jungkook let you. Then, he used his web shooters to leap through the hole created by the explosion, determined to put an end to whoever was causing the chaos. 
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Tuesday
The next morning you swiftly prepared for work and hurried to the train station. As luck would have it, the doors opened for you just in time as a herd of people got off. You seized the opportunity to hop on and secured the first available seat you saw.
Putting on an earbud and playing some calming music, you closed your eyes and gathered your thoughts, which were primarily of one person—Jungkook. Of course you wanted to be with him. He was everything a girl would want. 
You had initially met him at a friend’s birthday party, where his flirtatious nature was hard to miss. Yes, he had a reputation and had been around a lot, but that didn’t bother you much. Sometimes you wished you had the guts to separate love and sex like that, but you couldn’t. For you, intimacy was intertwined with emotional connection and a shared future.
And Jungkook wasn't like that, it seemed. Of course he was fun to talk to, you had even exchanged numbers that night. Because of his constant advances, you sensed that he might only be interested in a physical relationship. That thought made you apprehensive, so you turned him down twice (yes, it took every ounce of strength in your body to do so) to prevent getting too close. 
“I don’t do one-night stands, Jeon.”
“Can you do seven-night stands?”
“I can’t stand you.”
“But I really like you.”
Nevertheless, Jungkook remained a great friend who was there for you when you needed him, despite his constant advances. The two of you supported each other and lent an ear during challenging times. Him being Spider-Man made so much sense because you remembered the many times he’d show up late, but he always had a gift for you to make up for it, whether it was a small snack, the keychain you’ve been eyeing online, a pin of the place you dreamed of traveling to—he was always thoughtful in that way. 
You recalled the times he’d show up with random scars and bruises, claiming he got them from work (which wasn’t a total lie), but now you knew which work he was really referring to. It worried you, but he’d brush off your worries by telling you he was okay. Still, you’d trace the scars in concern with your finger, the two of you soon locking eyes, knowing there was something more. 
Unfortunately, your rough dating history prevented you from letting others in as easily as you used to. You always expected disappointment because that way you could never truly be disappointed. Yet somewhere along the way, he managed to break down your defenses, and your walls crumbled.
If Jungkook could be described in one word, it’d be genuine. He was sincere in everything he said, everything he did, giving his all. He knew you better than you knew yourself, almost like you had met him in another life.
The third time he asked you out for dinner, you finally caved. It might’ve had something to do with his heartfelt message that morning, describing a dream of you two dating and his immense happiness (the dude sent you a whole essay for goodness sakes). You were a sucker for such heartfelt gestures and realized you were ready to love again. 
But then everything changed when his identity as Spider-Man was revealed. Dating a hero was something you couldn't allow yourself to do, and rejecting him was the right decision for both of you. Even if you missed him.
Suddenly, the commotion from nearby startled you, causing your eyes to flutter open to an unexpected sight. Outside the train window, Jungkook dangled against the glass with the biggest cheeky grin. He waved at you as if it were a completely normal situation.
“Hi [Y/N]!!!” he shouted. You put your hands on your head in distress. 
“What the hell are you doing?!” you exclaimed, your loud voice prompting some people to retreat to another corner, allowing you a clearer view of the audacious arachnid. 
“I wanted to see you!!!” His words were muffled, barely audible with the glass being a barrier.
“What?” you said, cupping your ear, struggling to hear him clearly. 
Jungkook repeated his words, this time speaking slower and accentuating his lip movements. As he did so, he used his free hand to illustrate his words. 
"I," he pointed at himself, "Wanted," he gestured by rubbing his heart, "To," he pointed with his index and middle finger at his eyes and then at you, "See you!"
Feeling embarrassed and exasperated, you rolled your eyes and directed your gaze towards the ceiling. Deciding to move to another cart on the train, you began walking away. However, Jungkook hoisted himself up to the top and walked in tandem with you. Eventually, you settled into another seat, assuming he had given up, only to find his cheerful face peering at you upside-down from behind.
“Ahhh!!!” you screamed, almost shitting your pants from the surge of fright. 
“I MISS YOU!” he exclaimed. 
“For god sakes, leave me alone, you idiot!”
“I can be your idiot!”
Finally reaching your destination, you bolted out of there, with Jungkook persistently following in your footsteps. Once you got to the donut shop you worked at, you were completely out of breath. 
“Hey [Y/N]. Are you running a marathon or something?” Your manager, Jin, tossed you an apron and you somehow caught it. 
“No. Crazy. Man. Stalking me,” you said in between breaths. Jin grabbed the nearest object, which was a feather duster, wielding it with exaggerated finesse. You hurriedly positioned yourself behind him and put on the apron, keeping a close eye on the entrance. As expected, Jungkook swung into view, striking a perfect pose at the front.
“Wait, is that who I think it is?” Jin said. Jungkook entered your workplace with a bright and mischievous grin. “Oh my god! It’s Spider-Man!”
“Hey~. You weren't going to hit me with that were you? Or were you going to give me a thorough dusting?” Jungkook quipped. Jin immediately hid the feather duster behind his back, letting out a nervous laugh.
“No, I would never hit the famous Spider-Man, Seoul’s greatest hero. Can you sign some T-Shirts for me later? Maybe even sign my face and make it more handsome?”
“Sure.”
You dropped your jaw in disbelief and Jin gave you a stern look. “Well? What are you waiting for? Go serve him!”
“What? He’s the crazy person who keeps following me!”
“He’s going to skyrocket our sales in a day, go go go!”
You let out a groan and approached Jungkook with a defeated posture. "Please follow me this way," you said with a tone of dejection.
“Don’t slouch!” Jin scolded. You straightened up as Jungkook trailed behind you towards a table. Your acute hearing caught the stares and whispers of the few customers who were already there.
“So… Ms. [Y/N], is it?” Jungkook said, even going so far as to squint to look at your nametag. “Pretty name.”
“You know my name.”
“I know you’re into me.”
“Fuck you.”
“Well, that’s the plan. If I could, it'd be every hour, every minute, every second.” 
“Geez, this is harassment,” you said, trying to maintain a steady tone. “What do you want to drink, sir?”
“Sir? I like how that sounds.” Disgust twisted your face as you regretted letting that word slip, a habit from your long tenure at the place.
“Jungkook, either order or get out.”
“Are you on the menu?”
“You’re such a troublemaker. I’m getting you a different server.” He burst into laughter, raising his hands as if caught in the act. 
“Okay, okay. I’m kidding. I’ll have an Americano.”
“Great. Be right back.”
“Yay!”
“Shut up.”
“Aw.”
You quickly got his drink ready (having half a mind to spit in it but realized he’d probably enjoy that so you refrained) and returned to hand it over. 
“Is this the to-go cup?”
“Ah, very observant. It’s because I want you ‘to-go.’ Out the door. Right there,” you said, pointing to the exit. 
“Well, just for that, I think I’ll stick around longer if you know what I mean,” he teased, emphasizing the word “stick” with a wink.
“Jungkook please. I’m working here.”
“Can we just talk?”
“I don’t have anything left to say.”
“Not even to the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man? I know you must have some questions. Like why is he so lovable, kind, handsome—”
“Tries to get in everybody’s pants?” you finished for him. 
“That’s not true. I haven’t gotten into yours.”
“I knew that’s the only reason you kept asking me out.”
He gasped, holding a hand to his chest. “I’m offended. You should know I think more highly of you than that, babe. I care about you.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not interested, Jungkook. Find someone else.”
“Why? I thought we were hitting it off so well.”
“If by hitting it off you mean you stopped hooking up with anything that had a pulse until I came into the picture, then yeah, we hit it off.”
“Hey, I was proving to you that I was serious. About you, about us. I’m devoted.”
“Gee, thanks for keeping it in your pants for that long. You deserve a trophy.” 
“Nah, but if you’re offering to be one, I can’t say no.”
“I’m not sure if I should be insulted by that. I’m not some prize to be won.”
“I know. I’m just saying I’d worship you.”
You tried not to get flustered at his words. Just then, a swarm of reporters, paparazzi, and fans barged in, and Jungkook stepped in front of you, shielding you from the camera flashes.
“You’re Spider-Man, right?” one of the reporters in the front asked. 
“Yeah. So what?” Jungkook replied, showcasing a camera-ready smile that made everyone swoon.
“Is that your girlfriend?” a photographer asked. Jungkook extended his hand behind him, pulling you close and positioning you securely on his back, almost like a shield.
"Well, we're still a work in progress."
"So, that's a no then?"
“I’m not giving up. She has me wrapped around her finger.”
“Are you gonna have his spider babies?” a fan shouted from the back. You covered your face, mortified, while Jungkook chuckled. Luckily, Jin diverted the attention of the crowd by demanding they give him free publicity for the donut shop or else they’d have to take their services elsewhere. You begged Jungkook to leave and he obliged, but not before giving you a playful wink.
“I’ll see you again.”
“Please don’t.”
“Seven days a week. That’s a promise.”
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Wednesday
“H—” 
“Don’t talk to me.”
Seriously, the laundromat? He couldn’t even let you do your most hated chore in peace? You yanked each piece of clothing out of the machine, aggressively stuffing them into the basket you had while he sat nonchalantly behind you on another machine. 
“Come on, babe. I’m offering all of me to you.”
“Not interested.”
You walked away from him, placing your basket on another machine's surface, preparing to fold your clothes on the table. Naturally, he trailed after you like a devoted puppy.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re Spider-Man. It’s not a good idea for us to be involved with each other.”
“You’re still on that?”
You folded your shirt, shooting him a glare, despising how effortlessly he rocked his torn jeans, pale blue hoodie, and crisp white tanktop. He had such a gentle beauty that drove you crazy, especially with that soft puppy dog gaze of his. Why did the universe have to serve you the most attractive man on earth on a silver platter, knowing you couldn’t have him?
“Still on that..? Still on that?! I seriously can’t stand you!” you shouted, throwing your shirt aside in frustration. As you stormed away, you suddenly felt a splash on your ankle. Looking down, you realized the place was flooding. People all around were panicking, attempting to open the locked door. However, Jungkook remained unfazed.
"You don't mean that."
"Jungkook, the place is flooding!" you cried, the water level rising faster than before. It was now up to your waist, and a wave of panic began to wash over you.
"I'm going to die. I knew it. I knew this would happen if I got close to you! It's all your fault!" you exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“At least we’ll be together.” 
You shoved him hard enough that he stumbled back, making a sizable splash in the water. But despite your actions, he continued his relentless rambling. “See, this is a representation of how I feel. Without you I’m drowning. Give me a chance.”
He held your hand underwater and you pulled away, unable to register how unserious he was taking this. You let out a frustrated sigh, the water rising up to your neck, causing you to float up to the ceiling, where the lights were flickering wildly. Desperately, you pushed against them, as if hoping they would magically grant you more space.
“You know what, maybe death isn’t so bad after all.” you muttered.
“Let me love you right.”
“Does this look right?!”
You groaned and took a deep breath, going underwater to get away from him and his flirtatious words. Of course, he copied your actions but used his super strength to punch the glass windows and release the water. As it drained away, you laid there on your back, gasping for air. That was until Jungkook’s stupid face appeared before you. 
“Need CPR? Have no fear–” 
You swiftly pushed his face out of the way and sat up. “Nope, I’m good. Kiss me and you’re dead.”
Outside, a colossal twister of water surged into existence, taking the form of a massive entity that roared with immense power. Its presence was damning, with the sheer force of its swirling torrent causing nearby buildings to suffer damage.
“Well… that’s new,” Jungkook said, marveling at the sight before him. He clenched his fist, a sense of duty and readiness forming within him. Yet, your knowing look brought a hint of reluctance to his expression. He spoke in pouts. “Do I have to go? I don't want to leave you here alone.
You crossed your arms but offered an encouraging smile. “Go get ‘em, tiger. I’ll be okay.”
His pout transformed into a determined gaze as he nodded, accepting your words as a catalyst for action. Before he ventured into the chaos outside, he turned back to face you.
“I’ll come back for you. Get somewhere safe.”
Your concern for his well-being prompted you to call out to him before he left.
“Hey!” He turned around, his eyes shining with anticipation of your words. “If you… if you die, I’ll kill you.”
Your playful threat elicited a chuckle from Jungkook. With an assuring smile, he took hold of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I won’t.”
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Thursday
“Is that Spider-Man?”
“Quick, someone call 911!”
Jungkook shouldn’t have been texting and swinging, but you weren’t replying and he was worried. By the time he lowered his phone, it was too late and he crashed into the back of a double-decker tourist bus. People found him lying motionless on the street, facedown. The ambulance arrived at the scene and placed him on a stretcher, gradually stirring him from his drowsy state.
In the midst of the commotion, Jungkook’s sharp eyes spotted you on the sidewalk, clearly concerned about his well-being. When your gazes met, you realized he was fine and started walking faster to get out of his line of sight.
“Wait, wait, wait, I’m alright!” Jungkook protested, scrambling to get out of the stretcher’s restraints. The paramedics urged him to stay put, but he didn’t listen. He ripped the restraints off and pursued you, catching sight of a flower vendor along the way. He handed them an absurdly large wad of cash, disregarding how much he overpaid for a bouquet (but hey, it brought joy to the vendor). Delighted by the sight of the flowers now in his possession, he twirled around in sheer bliss.
“[Y/N]! Wait!” 
You were in the middle of walking across the street and by the time Jungkook got there, a car nearly hit him, causing him to nearly stumble and drop the bouquet. The car’s blaring horn compelled you to finally turn around, swiftly grabbing him by the arm and guiding him to the safety of the sidewalk.
“Are you crazy? Weren’t you on your way to the hospital?” you said, releasing your grip on him. With a toothy grin, he handed you the bouquet of sunflowers.
“I heal fast. These are for you.” 
You stared at the flowers, then back at him, overcome with disbelief. 
“I hate flowers,” you confessed, a tinge of annoyance in your voice.
“Wait, really?” he said, his hand instinctively reaching for his forehead in frustration. “I thought girls loved flowers.”
“All they do is wilt and die.”
“Well, you said I wasn’t boyfriend material, but I’m trying my best. You know what, it’s fine. I’ll take them back. I’ll get the boyfriend thing right one day. You’ll see.”
His face beamed with optimism, but it stung your heart a little. Unable to resist, you extended your hand towards the bouquet. “No, I’ll take them. They’re beautiful, thank you.”
He studied your movements and you even went as far as to smell the flowers letting out a satisfied “ahh” sound afterward. 
“You’re beautiful.”
“Yeah, okay~. Get out of here. I have work and you have to get to a hospital!”
“No, I’m fine.”
You placed your hand on your hip and playfully jabbed him in the side, causing him to flinch. "Ow, ow, OW! Alright, I get it. I'll go to the hospital."
You spun him around and nudged his back. “Alright, go on. Get out of here.”
“What am I, an animal?”
“Worse. An arachnid,” you joked. Jungkook walked back across the street once it was clear, making sure to turn back and wave at you. You waved back and when he finally got far enough, you let out the sneeze you had been holding in. 
“Ugh… now I gotta find a vase,” you said, sniffling. Jungkook quietly smiled to himself, his heightened sense of hearing providing him with another reason to love you.
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Friday
This was the worst thunderstorm you’ve seen in a while. You just finished watching a movie you’d been dying to see and would usually take the train home, but you had to first be able to get to the station without problem. This was one of those times you wished you had a car.
Due to the storm warnings, most people had left the theater early. You found yourself alone outside, contemplating whether to go back inside and wait out the storm with the employees. However, before you could make a decision, you heard a familiar voice.
“[Y/N]! What are you doing outside? It’s raining like crazy!”
“Oh no.”
You began walking away from him in the freezing rain, berating yourself for not bringing a jacket with a hood. Jungkook followed closely behind you.
“Are you really going to keep avoiding me? Even in this weather?”
“Yup!” 
“This is crazy. Come to my place. It’s not far away.”
“Nice try.”
“I’m serious, this is dangerous!”
“So now you can realize when a situation’s dangerous!”
You kept on trudging on amidst the ferocious storm, which only worsened the more steps you took. The wind became so powerful that abandoned pieces of furniture and appliances were scattered across the street. You took shelter behind a washing machine just in time to avoid being blown away by a gust of wind. Unfortunately, Jungkook wasn’t as lucky and desperately clung to a pole to avoid being swept away. But even still, he managed to call out for you.
“See?! This is why you should come back to my place!!!”
“Is sex the only thing on your mind?!”
“If it’s with you! Oh shi–” His grip loosened and he flew backwards in the wind current.
“Jungkook!” you screamed, abandoning your safe spot to rush to his side. He laid motionless on the ground, unresponsive even as you shook him. “Are you okay? Please respond. I can’t–I can’t deal with the thought of losing you. Come back and annoy me, damn it!”
He let out a sputter of a laugh and then quickly shut his lips, still pretending to be dead. 
“You little shit. Wake up this instant!”
“No, I could die happy now because I know you care about me.”
“Troublemaker,” you said, landing a punch on his chest. The impact jolted him awake, and he groaned as you turned away. However, a massive tree branch was heading your way through the wind and before you could react, Jungkook shot a web and pulled you to safety, right into his arms. 
Gasping for breath, your heart racing from the sudden surge of adrenaline, the two of you locked eyes, oblivious to everything else around you. Even in the rain, he remained breathtakingly handsome, with his long, black hair clinging to his face and water cascading off his cute button nose. Your gaze trailed down to his stylish black and white jacket, appreciating the definition of his abs visible through his drenched white t-shirt.
“Do I have permission to take you back to my place now?” You felt your words get caught in your throat. "Please," he added softly, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation and hope. You simply extended your hand, and he stared at it, taken aback. Realizing your sincerity, he became ecstatic and tightly held your hand as the coincidental storm came to a halt. Hand in hand, you dragged him in a specific direction, noticing how he did a cute little run to keep up with your brisk steps.
“Wait… this isn’t the way back to my place,” Jungkook said, his voice filled with confusion. You simply smirked and continued to drag him by the arm towards the entrance of your destination. "Why are we at a police station?" he questioned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Babe, if you wanted to handcuff me, I already have a pair back home."
Rolling your eyes playfully, you responded, "Trust me, this isn't about handcuffs."
A smirk formed on Jungkook's lips as he leaned closer, his voice laced with amusement. "So, what's the grand plan then? Are you filing a restraining order against me?" His words held a hint of excitement, as if he was relishing the idea.
You pretended to consider it for a moment, then nodded with mock seriousness. "Yup, that's exactly what I'm doing."
Jungkook burst into laughter, his infectious giggles filling the air. "You're serious right now?" 
Your expression turned determined as you raised an eyebrow. “Yup.”
He gave you his signature doe eyes. “I’d rather die than be apart from you.”
“Go ahead.”
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Saturday
Trouble: I miss u. Pls talk to me.
Trouble: I need u to ride my face. I was dreaming about it, like seriously. 
Trouble: Aren’t u curious if webs come out my dick? Trouble: Spoiler: they don’t. 
Trouble: Ok, pls I’m dying. Really. Help. 
Immediately after receiving the last text, you wasted no time in calling him. He picked up after the first ring. 
“Jungkook? Are you okay? What happened?!”
“Hmm? Nothing, I’m fine. Yay, you’re talking to me.”
“... I thought you said you were dying!”
"Yeah, because being away from you feels like dying."
“This isn’t funny, I was seriously worried you died or something. This is exactly why I can’t be your girlfriend. Bye.”
“No, no. Please don’t go.”
You hung up, but a flurry of texts flooded in and seeing the same unread message notification was driving you crazy. So you did the sensible thing and turned off your phone because your break was over anyway. Part of you thought Jungkook was going to show up at your workplace again but as the hours passed by, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe I should turn on my phone again… just to see if he’s okay. No, I shouldn’t give him the attention. Or maybe I should? Where is he?
“Hey [Y/N],” Jin said, gesturing for you to come over to where he was sitting, “You need to see this.”
You set down the cleaning cloth you were holding and made your way over to the booth he was at, where a large television overhead was displaying an explosion that happened a couple hours ago. Jin turned up the volume and your heart dropped as your mouth turned dry. 
The words “Breaking News” flashed across the screen as the news anchor stated, “In a shocking turn of events, tragedy struck earlier today as an explosion ripped through the apartment of Jeon Jungkook, known to many as the heroic figure, Spider-Man.”
Seeing the picture of Jungkook smiling in the corner made you fall to your knees. You stopped listening after they said he was presumed dead, and the authorities still had yet to recover his body. You didn’t even realize you were crying until the first tear dropped off your chin. Grabbing your phone, you quickly turned it on, anxiously waiting for the screen to load. Opening your text messages, you read them all quickly.
Trouble: I’m sorry for scaring u. :(
Trouble: I just wanna be with u.
Trouble: Am I annoying u? 
Trouble: I probably am.
Trouble: But ur all that’s on my mind.
Trouble: I know I’m jumping in fast. But I know I can make u happy. <3 We’ll take it slow. Whatever u want.
Trouble: Text me when u can.
The last text gutted you. 
Trouble: I really do love you. 🙂 I always will. Seven days a week. <3
You called him right after, but it was sent straight to voicemail. You tried again, only to meet the same fate. 
“Please tell me you’re alright… please tell me you’re alive,” you said through broken sobs. “There’s so much I want to tell you. Please call me back.”
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Later that evening, Jungkook returned from a mission from a ways away at the request of Iron Man (how could he say no to Iron Man, the dude worshiped him). In the car, his mentor showed him the news video and Jungkook was stunned to see how everyone presumed him dead. Seeing how there was already a funeral service planned for him, he was astonished at their efficiency. 
“Can I borrow a suit?” Jungkook asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wanted to set things right, but he had to do it with style. His mentor was more than happy to oblige, finding his protege’s plan hilarious.
When the funeral service began, you were seated among your mutual friends as well as the civilians who adored him. One by one people came up to the podium to say a few words except for you. You hadn’t processed the shock of his death yet, clutching your phone in hopes he’d text you or call you soon. 
“[Y/N]? Would you please come up and say a few words?” You looked up at your friend and realized everyone had already gone. Slowly you approached the podium and took a deep breath, trying not to stare at Jungkook’s handsome portrait. 
“Um… hello… I’m [Y/N]. I’m uh… well, some of you think I’m Jungkook’s girlfriend, but we hadn’t established that yet,” You licked your lips to wet them to be able to continue speaking. “I want to believe he’s still alive. I want to tell him so many things. You know, he asked me out three times.”
The crowd smiled at this and it gave you the confidence to go on. “Yeah, I know. He was persistent. It’s honestly one of the things I loved about him. And you’re probably thinking why didn’t I give him a chance? Well… this is why. I was afraid he’d get hurt someday and I’d lose him. And now… I probably have.”
You started to cry again, but wanted to keep going. “Even though I knew this was always a possibility, it doesn’t hurt any less. I miss him. I miss his stupid jokes, I miss the way he scrunches his nose, I miss the way he looks angry when he eats something delicious… I miss him. I wish he knew the truth.”
You looked at the closed casket in sorrow. “I love you, Jungkook. I was just too scared to admit it.”
Walking over to the casket, you sighed. “How could you leave me? You said you’d always love me…”
The casket slowly opened and a familiar voice said, “Seven days a week.”
Everyone at the service was letting out cries of shock, some even standing up or falling down. One even fainted and someone shouted, “IT’S A GHOST!”
You were face to face with Jungkook in a pinstripe suit, smiling at you brightly. You stumbled backwards, shocked as he jumped out and stood in front of you. 
“Hey,” he said warmly. Your brain couldn’t register how relieved you were and the overwhelming flood of emotions caused you to default to hitting his chest repeatedly. 
“Don’t ‘hey’ me! What the fuck is going on?! I thought you died, how could you just pop up in a casket like it’s normal? Where the hell were you? You stopped replying and I got worried—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” He caught both your wrists and chuckled. “I’m alive, I’m okay. I was out of town for a bit helping Iron Man. Not my fault I come back and everyone presumes I’m dead.”
“You didn’t pick up my calls…” you said, calmer than before. 
“Ah, my phone got destroyed in the battle. No big deal though, I’ll just get a new one.”
“I really thought you were gone,” you said, hating that the waterworks were coming back. You could barely breathe and hiccups were leaving your lips faster than you could keep up with. He pulled you into a hug, patting your back gently to ease your worries.
“I’d never leave my girl,” he whispered into your ear. You didn’t have the strength to say more, so you let him hold you as everyone flooded out of the room to spread the news about Spider-Man’s return.  
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Walking hand in hand, you led him away from the somber atmosphere of the service, a glimmer of happiness returning to both of your faces. His smile, as bright as ever, mirrored the joy you felt at the simple act of your joined hands.
“Taking me to another police station? For the record I didn’t fake my death. I should sue the news station for that.”
You shook your head, your voice softening as you spoke. “No. We’re going to my place.”
Jungkook came to a sudden stop, causing you to stumble back a bit, caught off guard by his abrupt halt.
“Are you serious?”
“Well… yeah. Your place was destroyed. It’s late. Were you going to stay somewhere else?”
“Yeah, actually.”
“Oh. Okay,” you said, trying to mask your disappointment. “Guess I’ll go home then. Goodnight.”
You tried to leave, but Jungkook wouldn’t let go of your hand, finding your reactions adorable.
“What? Are you sad I’m not going home with you?”
“Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’s your loss, really.”
You stared at the ground, kicking a pebble across the street to distract yourself from your own vulnerability. Jungkook cupped your face and tilted your head up, so you would look at him. 
“It’s not that I don’t want to go home with you, beautiful. I do. But there’s a chance they might go after your place next and I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. You were right. I wasn’t taking things seriously.”
A mix of surprise and tenderness washed over you as you heard him acknowledge your concerns.
“Did you just admit that I was right? I must be dreaming.”
“To be fair, I’ve put away a lot of bad people and most of them are too terrified to face me again. I guess I let my guard down, thinking we were in the clear.”
“Yeah, that type of arrogance is why you’re such a pain.”
“But you love me anyway. I heard you say it.”
“I’m starting to regret it honestly.”
“... I still heard it.”
“Y-Your death caught me off guard,” you stammered. “Anyway, what are we going to do then if we’re both homeless?”
“I have a place we can go to. Do you trust me?”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you hesitated only for a moment before nodding in affirmation.
“Yes.”
“Then come here.” He gently guided your hands to wrap around his neck, his touch sending a comforting warmth through your fingertips. “Now, put your legs around my waist.”
You followed his instructions, securing your legs around him, feeling the strength in his embrace. A grin spread across his face as he saw your trust.
“Good girl. Hold on tight.”
He launched a web toward the tallest nearby building, propelling the two of you into the sky with incredible height and speed. You held onto him tight, loving how you finally got to swing with the one and only Spider-Man. 
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Jungkook ended up swinging you to the Avengers Compound. He was assigned a room a while back and hadn’t used it much, but tonight was the perfect opportunity to do so. It was more than safe with the latest security updates, so you didn’t need to worry about him or yourself. 
Naturally, walking into the Compound felt out of sorts to you because you didn’t feel like you belonged. It was like you trespassing on sacred ground. But once you reached Jungkook’s room, that feeling gradually dissipated. The spaciousness and comfort of the room welcomed you, making you feel more at ease. Windows surrounded the room, allowing natural light to pour in, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. A dumbbell rack occupied one corner, a testament to Jungkook's dedication to staying fit, while on the opposite side stood an impressive gaming setup.
Taking a seat on the bed, you watched as Jungkook immediately knelt down on one knee, his gentle hands reaching for your heels.
“Let me take these off for you.”
You offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
“It’s my honor.”
Your eyes locked for a moment, the unspoken connection between you both growing stronger. However, Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking the intimate silence.
“I’ll get you a change of clothes. They might be big though if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you… for taking care of me.”
Jungkook smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling with tenderness. “It’s my purpose, love.”
His words resonated deeply within you, leaving you speechless. Fortunately, he broke eye contact and went over to his closet, pulling out an oversized T-shirt with a pair of sports shorts. He handed you the neatly folded pile of clothes and gestured you towards the bathroom. After you got changed, you opened the door to see he had already changed too. He wore a gray shirt and matching gray sweats, the simple attire making him effortlessly stylish.
“Do you have a toothbrush?” you asked timidly. He nodded and went over to grab one from the cabinet for you, selecting your favorite color on purpose. Grabbing his own toothbrush, the two of you brushed your teeth in silence, occasionally meeting each other’s gaze in the mirror before looking away.
Once done, you both walked back to his room, but he stopped at the doorway. “So um… I’ll sleep in the living room. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
You shook your head in protest.
“I need you.” He looked at you with wide, curious eyes. “Because… It's cold in this room. And two people in the room allows enough body heat to travel and set the room to optimal temperature. If you leave, it’ll be too cold to sleep at night.”
You mentally cursed at how stupid you sounded right now, but Jungkook kept smiling at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his life. “Well, if it's a matter of optimal temperature, then I guess I have no choice but to stay. After all, I wouldn't want you shivering in the cold all night, now would I?”
“Exactly. It has to be balanced.”
“Alright. You’ve convinced me.”
Jungkook stepped into the room and shut the door. You quickly got under the covers but then realized he was grabbing an extra comforter from his closet and placing it on the floor.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
“I’m sleeping on the floor.”
“This is your room. Don’t be silly.”
“But—”
“Sleep with me. U-Up here. There’s plenty of room.”
Jungkook watched you closely, waiting for a shift in expression but you were dead serious. He awkwardly put the comforter back and made his way over to you, getting underneath the covers. 
“Goodnight,” he said, the stiffness evident in his voice.
“Goodnight,” you replied, your tone mirroring the tension in the room. Jungkook turned on the lamp on his bedside table, casting a soft glow across the room, and both of you lay down on your respective sides, facing away from each other. The air in the room grew thick with palpable tension, amplified by the sound of your racing heart and shallow breaths.
“[Y/N]?”
“Yeah?”
“I promise I’m not trying to sleep with you, so sleep comfortably, okay? I won’t try anything.”
Something inside you snapped, a surge of emotions and desires bubbling up to the surface. You couldn't hold back any longer. “Maybe I want you to try something.”
His body stiffened for a split second, and then he quickly turned over to his other side. Following his lead, you mirrored his movement, facing the opposite direction.
“Are you… sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured. I know a lot’s happened.”
You chuckled softly and cupped his face, your eyes full of love and desire. “What am I going to do with you, Trouble?”
“Am I… Am I Trouble?”
You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah. You are. You always will be.”
His grin widened. “I like it.”
“I like you.” There was a brief pause as you stared into his eyes, noticing how his pupils dilated. “I might even… love you. A lot.”
You tenderly traced his lip piercing with your thumb before leaning in, allowing your lips to meet in a gentle and lingering kiss. Jungkook responded eagerly, his lips moving in sync with yours as he sought the perfect angle and rhythm. He placed his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer, intoxicated by the sensation of his lips on yours. A soft moan escaped your lips as he gently nibbled on your bottom lip, his teeth teasingly tugging at the delicate skin. The kiss continued for a few minutes until you leaned back, needing to catch your breath. 
“Wow…” you breathed. “You’re good.”
“I know. I’ve been dreaming about kissing you for as long as I can remember.” 
A moment of silence filled the air, carrying a blend of tenderness and a hint of inexperience. Jungkook’s been with plenty of women, sure. And you too had your fair share of dating experiences. But this would be your first time with each other. Until now, you two had never shared a kiss. 
Jungkook, being considerate and thoughtful, wanted to make sure you felt at ease throughout the entire experience. Taking his time, he gently asked, "Are you okay if we… continue?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation. “It’s okay.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Unless all that talk about fucking me seven days a week was a lie,” you challenged, the smirk on your face branding you as a total brat. Jungkook immediately got on top of you, pinning both your wrists over your head. 
“Oh babe… you have no idea what I’m capable of, do you?” He kissed you again, pulling away with an audible smooch sound. “Such a tease.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
He poked his tongue against his cheek at your bratty behavior, opting to pin you down with one hand while the other traced the lines of your body, stopping at the hem of your shirt. He watched your face for confirmation.
“Go ahead, Trouble.”
He slid the material up slowly, revealing your breasts to his feasting eyes. It was his first time seeing you like this and god, you were more beautiful than he could have possibly imagined (and he’s imagined you plenty of times). 
“Please, do stare longer,” you teased, trying to fight the self-conscious part of you. 
“I’m memorizing every detail,” Jungkook said, his eyes full of admiration. “You’re gorgeous.”
“You really think so?”
Usually you’d be more confident, but with him, you felt shy. Maybe it was because he had more experience than you, leaving you with a lingering curiosity about how you measured up against his past flings. Or maybe it was because he’s Spider-Man and the fear of the unknown loomed in your thoughts. Or maybe… you knew this one night would change things between you two forever.
“Hey…” He released your wrists and rubbed circles on your waist with his thumb before proceeding to place a chaste kiss there as if to ease your worries. “I mean it. You’re beyond stunning, I’m a lucky guy. Don’t ever doubt yourself.”
“Thank you… I don’t know, I just… I’m scared. Things will never be the same after this.”
“Yeah… that’s true. I know you’re worried and think this won’t work out. I know you’re doubting a lot of things. But if there’s one thing you shouldn’t doubt, it’s my love for you.”
“Jungkook…”
“I want you safe. I want you to be comfortable. We don’t have to do more. Okay?”
His eyes were sincere, his smile earnest. The way he kissed your forehead sent a comforting warmth throughout your whole body. He was so gentle with you, how could you not love him?
He was about to get off of you until you confessed, “I love you too. And I don’t want to hold back anymore so…” 
You cupped your breasts together with both hands, luring him in. “Don’t hold back either.”
Jungkook didn’t say any more and immediately took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard. You arched your back in pleasure as he massaged your other breast while flicking your nipple with his tongue. Moans and licking noises left his lips, the sinful sounds increasing your desire tenfold. Running your hand through his luscious black locks, you tugged gently to bring him closer and he responded with a groan. 
“Your breasts are fucking perfect, you’re perfect,” he said raspily as he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment before sucking on the skin hard enough to bruise it. “You’re such a temptation.”
He placed his face in the valley of your breasts, littering your chest with kisses before latching his warm lips on your neck. You mewled when he sucked the spot under your jaw, figuring he left another hickey. 
“I have work in the morning,” you whined in faux protest, secretly relishing in the fact he was claiming you as his.
“Good. Now everyone can envy who I have as my girlfriend,” he said, continuing to make out with your neck. His hand trailed down your body and slipped into your shorts and you felt him smiling against your skin, relishing at feeling how wet you were. “No panties? You’re already so wet for me…”
His middle finger rubbed up and down your slit a few times as you took in some sharp breaths, especially when he pressed on your clit. You wanted more, you needed more. Thrusting your hips up so the pressure would be just right, you sighed in content.  
“Such a needy girl. I haven’t even done much and you’re already such a mess.” He dipped his middle finger slowly, invading your tight walls. You moaned as he thrusted it in and out, waiting for you to adjust to the size before inserting another. He curled them just so, knowing he was hitting the right spot by the way your body reacted. Your breaths were becoming shaky, your body trembling, as you begged him to go faster.
“Please, don’t stop, sir,” you pleaded. His eyes darkened, loving how you addressed him. He fingered you faster as a reward, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut in bliss as your orgasm built up. Curses left your lips as you squirmed on his bed and he loved every second of it. What sealed the deal was when he attacked your neck again, biting down with just the right amount of pressure to pleasure you. Your first orgasm ripped through you and he helped you through the blissful waves, scissoring his fingers expertly. 
“Such a good girl, so sexy,” Jungkook praised, gradually slowing down when your body gave out. Your chest rose and fell as you came back down to earth. He chuckled, removing his drenched fingers and sucking them clean, making obscene wet noises. “Fuck, I need more. You taste amazing.”
He got in between your legs and carefully pulled down your shorts as you lifted your hips up, discarding them behind him. You got nervous when you realized he was staring at your womanhood unashamed, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. 
“You’re staring,” you pointed out shyly. He palmed himself through his sweats, shaking his head.
“No baby. I’m admiring. So fucking sexy… I need you to ride my face. Please.”
“But what if… what if I crush you?” you asked timidly, having not done something like that before.
“Ugh, I’d die happy. Sit on me, please. Here,” He laid flat on his back, so his head was slightly hanging off the edge of the bed. “Get off the bed and hover over me.”
You obliged but were still apprehensive. He stared up at you upside-down, rubbing the outside of your thigh soothingly. 
“Come on, baby. Ride my face and I promise it’ll be worth it. We can stop whenever you want.” 
“You’ll let me know if I’m hurting you?”
He chuckled at how sweet you were being. “Yes, I will. Now open those pretty legs of yours, yeah. Just like that. Fuck,” You got closer to him and appreciated he was guiding you every step of the way. He kissed the inside of your thigh. “Let me have a taste.”
He palmed your cheeks and secured his head snug in between your thighs before licking a stripe of your cunt, cleaning up the mess he made of you while also encouraging more to come. You shuddered at the feeling of the wet muscle licking your folds and he moaned, the vibration sending tingles up your spine. He was devouring you like a starved man, the slurping sounds sinful, almost primal. 
He pulled you down more, allowing his tongue to slip inside and you were transported to heaven as he began tongue-fucking you as deep as he could. You couldn’t find the strength to hold yourself up anymore, so you placed your hands on either side of his body to hold yourself steady. But that’s when you noticed the tent in his pants and decided to pull his sweatpants down, exposing his large, aching cock. Not only was his length impressive, but the girth was more than you expected, your mouth watering at the thought of it inside you.
However, you had to give back and you ran your nails along his thigh to get his attention.
“Of course your cock is also perfect,” you said. Jungkook ceased his actions for a moment, his breath hitched at the thought of what you were going to do next. “I want to please you too, Trouble.”
“Fuck, please do. Wait, I have an idea. Switch spots with me.”
“Hmm? Okay…”
You were clueless of his plans, but you laid down on the bed upside-down while he got up, removing his shirt and sweats completely. Your shirt was the last article of clothing left on your body, so you removed it as well while ogling Jungkook’s defined body. He was toned in all the right places as if sculpted by the gods themselves, a delicious feast for your eyes. As he hovered above you, the tip of his cock was dangerously close to your lips, so you placed a chaste kiss on it. 
He rubbed your cheek lovingly at this action, pleased. “You wanna suck my cock that badly?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I do.”
“Good.”
In one swift motion, Jungkook wrapped his arms around the underside of your thighs and lifted you up so that you and him were both standing together. Except you were still upside-down, realizing he wanted to do the 69 position while standing. You let out a yelp at the sudden bold action and took a few deep breaths to calm down.
“Oh my god, oh my god, please don’t drop me.”
“I’ve got you, beautiful. You okay?”
“Your dick kinda smacked me in the face.”
“Oh shoot, I’m sorry.”
You giggled. “It’s okay… I kinda liked it.”
Your hands gripped onto Jungkook’s firm ass for support as you slowly took his cock deep in your mouth. He hugged your waist securely, returning his mouth on your pussy and sucking harshly while moving his head side to side rapidly. Your moans were muffled by his cock as you did your best to bob your head up and down in the difficult position. The blood rushing to your head made things a little harder to focus, but you continued to deep throat him while swirling your tongue around his member. 
Each time his cock hit the back of your throat, he let out a restrained moan, increasing the pressure of his lips on your clit. But you were relentless, not letting up on your steady pace.
“Fuck, are you trying to make me cum?” Jungkook asked, breathing heavily. You released his cock with a loud pop of your lips. 
“Is it working?”
He gently placed you back down on the bed and then proceeded to grab a condom from his nightstand drawer. “I don’t want to cum until you do.”
You rearranged yourself so you were oriented correctly on the bed while you watched him rip the package open with his teeth, which was very seductive in your eyes. 
“Guess that means no spider-babies then,” you joked. A faint blush colored his cheeks in response to the comment.
“I want to do things right with you. Maybe after some time… we can take that risk,” Jungkook said thoughtfully. You felt your heart blossom, wondering how it was possible to love him more than before. 
You watched as he rolled the condom onto his fat cock before climbing back in bed in between your legs. Using one hand to hold himself up, the other one slowly guided the tip to your entrance, teasingly rubbing it up and down your slit.
“Is this okay?”
“Yes. I need you inside me.”
You held your breath as he slowly inserted into you, making sure you could take the first inch before adding another. He prepped you well, the transition smooth, but you let out a whimper when he finally bottomed out into you. 
He shuddered above you, growling at the sensation. “You’re squeezing me so tight, love. You feel so… so good.” 
He grabbed both your hands and intertwined his fingers with your own as he began to thrust into you, his movements nice and languid, making sure to shove his entire cock in you before pulling out again. The moment was full of passion and tenderness, the love he had for you undeniable. You were observant how his face was a portrait of restrained desire, etched with visible tension as he continued to fuck you. His features contorted, the muscles in his jaw tightened, and his brows furrowed in a valiant effort to restrain himself. 
“Jungkook…” you breathed. “You’re holding back, aren’t you?”
He opened his eyes and stopped moving, a pang of guilt spread across his face. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“It’s different this time.”
“Because you’re Spider-Man?”
“Because it’s you.” You clenched around him tightly at that and he hissed. “Fuck… and you say I’m trouble.”
You gave him a peck on the lips. “I want you to feel good too. I can take it. Fuck me like you love me.”
Your words were filthy despite the angelic glow casted upon you from the lamp on his bedside table. He inhaled sharply and pushed himself up so he was sitting on his ankles, his hands taking place on your thighs while your legs rested on his shoulders. Kissing your ankle gingerly, he proceeded to pick up the pace, thrusting into you with a rough slam before repeating the motion over and over. You had the wind knocked out of you when he finally went to town, jack-hammering into you aggressively.
“Fuck, fuck, Jungkook, oh my god,” you said, unable to do anything but take the assault to your cunt. Your breasts bounced up and down with each thrust, the sight so inviting that he embraced one of them for stability.
“Is this what you wanted? Huh?” Jungkook asked as if he was challenging you. You could barely reply with a broken yes before he changed things up, pinning your hands down again while forcing your legs to go up all the way, slamming his hips into you mercilessly. You were screaming at this point, your pussy wrapped around him tightly like a vice.
He grunted as he exerted himself, loving the way his muscles burned while your face contorted with pleasure. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and lifted you up so that your legs were wrapped around his waist as he sat on his knees on the bed, kissing you deeply and giving the both of you a quick break. 
“You’re such a good girl for me, letting me fuck that sweet pussy,” he whispered in between kisses. You braced yourself on his shoulders as he guided his stiff cock back inside you, moving you up and down as he pleased. The squelching sounds of your pussy were obscene and you couldn’t do anything but take it deep. It didn’t take long before Jungkook was standing, finding more stability this way and holding you securely before ramming into you at a bruising pace.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure, unashamed about your strength kink and how his strong muscles fucking you were a dream come true. The familiar pleasure was building again and you were near tears at this point when your second orgasm of the night hit you faster than expected. You threw your head back in bliss, crying out his name like a mantra. 
Before you knew it, you were placed back onto the bed, thankful you could catch your breath. Honestly you could have passed out at this point, but with a swift move, Jungkook flipped you over so that you were on your stomach and he laid on top of you, his tattooed bicep holding your neck gently as he panted into your ear.
“You thought we were done, right? We’re not done,” he said, voice deep and husky. 
You gulped, feeling another wave of arousal in between your thighs. “You didn’t cum yet?”
He let out a sinister chuckle. “Weren’t you listening? I said I’m not done. Understand?”
“Yes sir. I understand.”
He slid his dick into you once more, fucking you like a madman while holding you close, whispering sweet words of praise into your ear. His moans became more broken over time, more whiny, indicating he was close. His hips were stuttering, but he pushed through and slammed into you one final time, releasing into the condom. You let out a content sigh as he finally released you so you could lay your head down while he rested his on your back, panting. 
“Fuck, you were so amazing,” Jungkook said after a couple minutes, pressing butterflies kisses on your back. 
“Yeah, you were… so…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, still in a daze. 
He smirked. “Good? Fantastic? The best you’ve ever had?”
“... Maybe.”
He pushed himself off you and pulled out his dick, taking off the condom and tying it to discard in his trash can. As much as you wanted to bask in the afterglow and fall asleep, you knew you had to clean yourself up properly. To your surprise, Jungkook scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bathroom himself. 
“Go pee,” he urged, setting you down. 
“You need to go pee too,” you countered. 
“... Will you hold it while I go?” 
You burst out laughing, recalling how you saw that trend on TikTok for couples. “Oh my god, no.”
“Damn,” he said, joining in your laughter. You noticed how his dick was still semi-erect and honestly, the size was still very remarkable.
“Are you still hard?”
“It’ll go away, don’t worry about it.”
“... Well… where are your web shooters?” you asked with a certain twinkle in your eye. Jungkook licked his lips at the thought of what you were possibly insinuating. 
“They’re in my room of course. Why?”
“... Maybe you can use them on me.”
Let’s just say you didn’t get to “clean up” after yourself for a while.
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Sunday
By the time you woke up, your hands instinctively reached out for Jungkook only to feel nothing but the bedsheets. Sitting up straight, you stared at the empty spot in wonder. Where could he be?
Getting out of bed, you found your legs to be a bit wobbly. The memory of last night’s events resurfaced and you smiled in amusement. Jeon Jungkook talked big, but oh, he kept his word. Even your lower back was aching, but you persevered and explored the Compound looking for him. 
It was when you went up to the rooftop balcony that you spotted him on something quite unexpected. The place must’ve been under construction or something because Jungkook was dancing on a platform in the air that was attached to a crane nearby. He was jovial, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. You went over to the ledge right away, waving your hands around so he would notice you.
“You’re awake!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. You shook your head as a smile broke out on your face.
“What are you doing, silly?”
“I woke up early. Couldn’t sleep anymore. Too happy.”
He held onto one of the ropes on the corner of the platform, dangling half his body off of it without a care in the world. You wanted to rip your hair out at his recklessness.
“What are you doing?!”
*Thwip, thwip*
In an instant, you were pulled off the ledge and onto the platform with him, caught securely in his arms. “You idiot! What if I fell?! Oh my god, get me down. I’m gonna kill y—”
He kissed you tenderly and you melted like butter, unable to resist his touch. When he pulled away, you saw how he glowed in the warm sunlight and the insurmountable love in his gaze. 
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
“What are you even saying right now?” you said softly, giggling at how cute he was.
“We can go on a date. Like, a proper one. No chandeliers falling, no hanging off trains, or laundromats flooding. I promise.”
You placed your forehead against his. “I’d love to, Trouble.”
“Yay! I have a girlfriend!!! The best girlfriend ever!!!” he shouted while jumping up and down, causing the platform to wobble. Panic settled in your features as you hit his chest. 
“We’re going to fall, you idiot!”
“I’m finally your idiot though,” he said, squeezing your waist. You sighed, knowing he was right. The Jungkook you knew was always trouble. 
But now he was your Trouble. 
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And then the blip happened... I’m totally joking. LOL.  Hope you enjoyed!!!
Tag List: @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad | @gxtwllsn | @frieschan | @loomipee | @coffee-jeon | @hellbornsworld​ | @sizzlingfestpeach
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luveline · 9 months
Text
𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
miguel assumes you're mad when you stop initiating kisses and tries to get back on your good side —featuring grumpy but lovelorn miguel and his head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 3k.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
"Gàn de piàoliang!" cheers the puppy at the bottom of your screen. Well done.
You smile at him and slide your finger across a lilac candy to make another three-match. 
The music playing from your phone quietens as a text lines the top of the screen. You click it as soon as you recognise the contact picture beside it, your handsome Miguel with a filter over his face that paints rosy pink hearts over his high cheeks. 
Finished. his text says. 
Miguel is a man of little words. Over the phone he talks even less, easier to draw blood from stone than harness a conversation with him that isn't in person. His text demarcates the wall of messages you sent him earlier, not wanting for a reply but bursting to tell him things as they happened. 
You put your phone down carefully. It's one of your most treasured possessions, shimmering and high tech, you can fold it down the middle to fit in your little spider suit pockets, though the amount of charms and beads hanging from it now impedes that particular functionality.
Miguel gave it to you as a gift without any fanfare around the time you started staying in his apartment in the society, and while your bunking with him was supposed to be temporary, the phone is for keeps. You've decorated it accordingly.
The best charm is a beaded translucent jellyfish, and not solely because it's beautiful: Miguel has a matching one that he showcases shamelessly. 
You rush into his neat bathroom and lean heavily on the counter, propping your hand on the faucet to hold your weight as you assess your reflection in the mirror. When you turn your face, your nose shines in the light. 
You decide it's best to wash up. Miguel will be back soon enough. 
You get distracted by skincare, toner pads resting on your cheeks when you hear the door opening. A waste to take them off prematurely, you pat them flat to your skin and meet Miguel in his bedroom half ready. 
"I can see why you didn't text me back," he says, giving you a quick glance from the corner of his eye as he walks past the bed and your waiting phone. He beelines for the kitchenette and disappears around the corner. "What do they do, the squares?" 
"They're calming, I think," you say, following his path from the bathroom to the small kitchen. 
His apartment is big but not huge. The main room is his bedroom, with enough space for a couch and a TV he never uses that comes out of the wall. To the right is a utility closet for storage and a walk-in wardrobe, and to the left lies the kitchen and the bathroom. It takes you all of ten seconds to be by his side. 
Bottles rattle as Miguel opens the fridge. He grabs sparkling water for himself and a fruit tea concoction for you. You hadn't followed him for that, but you accept it anyway. 
He looks tired. Tilting his head back to drink, you eye the stiff set to his shoulders and the way he rolls his arm out, orchestrating an offer for a massage in your head. 
Miguel squints at you. "What?" 
"What?" you ask back. 
He doesn't explain. He screws the lid back on to his water and closes the fridge. 
With his empty hand, Miguel reaches for your face. You stay very still in anticipation of his touch, imagining how he might take your cheek in his hand and pull you close, or perhaps curl thick, long fingers behind your neck and guide your chin up. He can be rough in odd ways, as though he's unaware of his strength. 
"It's slimy," he says in disgust, pulling a toner pad from your left cheek. 
"It's going to make my skin clearer." 
"There's nothing wrong with your skin." True or not, you know it's Miguel's way of being sweet. He takes the second toner pad too, tossing them in the trash with a huff. "That's better. You look normal. Or, as normal as possible." 
"Jerk!" you say through a smile, thinking now's the moment. 
But Miguel hasn't peeled away your skincare to kiss you. He pats a spot of dampness on your cheek away with the back of his hand and turns on his heel, gunning for a change of clothes and a shower, if you know him. "Drink your tea. Did you eat? Me preocupo por ti." 
You sigh and trail after him. "I was waiting for you to come back. It's Vietnamese week in the cafeteria, they're making cá kho tộ. Do you like that? It's sweeter than hake." 
"It's fish?" 
"Catfish. Caramelised catfish." You sit down on the bed, flipping your phone open to play your game while he decides. 
That, and to ignore the inkling of doubt blossoming like mould under heat in your chest. An achy sort of worry… 
Does Miguel not want to kiss you? 
"What's the other option? I don't like sweet foods." 
You knew that already. "You could make pasta?" you suggest. 
"You'd love that." 
"Are you teasing me?" 
Miguel pokes his head out of the wardrobe, and with it comes his naked chest. His muscles are insane, lean tanned stretches of cord pulled taut as he grabs a shirt. "I'm making an observation. You like carbs." 
"Everyone likes carbs, Miguel, especially Spiders." 
"I know, but I don't make anyone else dinner." He's definitely flirting now, his voice playful and soft. "I'll make you pasta if you want." 
Why hasn't he kissed you? Offering to make you dinner, smiling at you just as soon as his face has been pulled through his t-shirt. He's acting as affectionate as a man who'd like to kiss you without pulling through. 
Well, maybe you kiss him too much. Come to think of it, you initiate the vast, vast majority of kisses, and you must kiss him twice a day at least. Miguel clearly favours you, but it's possible he isn't interested in as much physicality as you and hasn't had the heart to say. He likes watching vintage movies at night and half the time you're not interested in those. You haven't said a word about it because things between you are new and you like his being happy watching the things he enjoys. Miguel could be doing the same, allowing hugs and kisses he doesn't necessarily want in order to avoid hurting your feelings. 
A favourite phrase of his cuts through your thinking, "¿Alguien en casa?" Anyone home?
"Oh, sorry, were you not getting enough attention?" you ask him, pretending to be more nonchalant than you are as you open the match game on your phone. 
The puppy barks hello. 
"Ah, you're a cómico now." Miguel sits on the bed beside you in sweatpants, reaching across the sheets to give your arm a shake. "I said, I'll make you pasta if you want pasta." 
"I want what you want," you say honestly. 
He stares at you. You're not sure what he's confused about. "Alright. Did you want it now?" he asks. 
"Yes, serf," you say, laughing when he knocks your phone out of your hand and stands in a dramatised annoyance. 
You play a couple levels of your game to give him space. He's quiet as he washes his hands and gets out the cookware, but he appears curious in the door, rag between his hands. "You're not gonna come and sit with me? I really am your maid." 
Eager for an invitation, you join him in the kitchen. You brace yourself behind you to hop onto the counter and find his hands on your hips, helping you up. 
Miguel meets your eyes as he does, not close but enough to beckon down for a kiss. You think about doing it. He might let you, his straight lashes pointed with his gaze, his eyes a heavy weight where they trace your features unhurried. 
"How come you didn't text me back earlier?" he asks. 
"Oh, I didn't know you were expecting me to. I'm sorry, handsome, I was kind of grody–"
"Grody? I doubt that–" 
"–I figured I'd wash up before you got back." 
"So you were busy?" he asks, returning to the chopping board at the left of the stove. He picks up a glinting-sharp knife. "Not something else?" 
"No, why? Was I supposed to do something today?" 
Miguel begins slicing into a tomato, red skin splitting to reveal greener insides. "No. No, just wondering." 
You lean back against the wall, crossing a leg over your thigh. He's being kind of off. Your first impulse is to try and kiss it better but that directly fights your new theory. Being nice physically is far from your only weapon. 
"Did you have a good day?" you ask, and here's where you'd pull him close or sidle up behind him and twist his hair around your finger. "I was thinking about you a lot. Did the strike mission go okay?" 
"Fine. You didn't come see me, but it was fine." 
You eye him from the corner of your vision. He's still cutting up tomatoes, a pan of olive oil and minced garlic simmering between you. 
"I sent you all those photos," you say. 
One of the Peter's you hang around with got his arm stuck in a window after he said, "Is that a bad idea, do you think? I really wanna try," and Hobie said, "They can't stop you." 
The 'they' being unknown, Hobie was right. No one could stop Peter once he started climbing, but the window could certainly stop him from getting down. You'd sent Miguel pictures of his dangling body up in the atrium like a dark splodge, as well as a blurry photo of your face when you'd accidentally turned the camera. He responded to that one with a heart but the rest he didn't touch. 
"They got him down eventually," you continue, "but I had to stay for moral support! And to feed him popcorn so he didn't starve. Was it peaceful without me?"
"You know I like when you visit me, right?" he asks carefully. 
"Yeah?" 
"Yeah?" he mimics, waving his hand at you. "Can't deal with you. Get the cream from the fridge." 
You eat dinner as you and Miguel tend to do —you talk your way through it happily, smiling and joking, and he puts extra helpings on your plate when you aren't looking. 
The alien quality of what you're doing rears its head briefly. He's trying to stop the quasi apocalypse. You're willing to help, though you'd been more interested in Miguel and getting to know his enigma than your responsibilities. Weird how love makes you want to be better. 
"What was your course like?" Miguel asks, when the dishes have been set aside for washing and you've showered for the night. 
He's talkative tonight. 
"They taught us how to wield a baton," you say, climbing into his bed with a tired sigh. "One girl was crazy about it. She kind of looked like me…" You yawn, looking for his waist as he settles in the sheets and pillows next to you. "You're lucky I got my claws into you when I did. At least I'm not murderous. Much." 
Miguel covers your hand on his ribs. He squeezes your fingers together gently like he's collecting them under his palm for borrowing. 
"You didn't get your claws in me. I'm not easily led." 
"Course not," you snort. You actually agree with him, but he said it too seriously for bedtime. 
Miguel abandons your hand to pull you in, encouraging your head and upper chest onto his, hand coasting up and down the length of your arm lovingly. Firmly, like a massage, but adoring nonetheless. You languish in his touches and rub your lips, still tingling from spearmint, against the collar of his shirt gently. As indirect a kiss as you can manage, practically sick with longing after a day unkissed. 
"Are you mad at me?" he asks into the quiet.
You pause, fingers with a mind of their own as you take a long strand of hair that curls under his ear between them, combing it flat. "Why, have you done something?" you ask, hiding your confusion with a delighted lilt. 
"I've been trying to work that out." Frustration seeps into his voice, roughened syllables drawn tight, "But you're evasive." 
"I'm evasive," you say softly, tilting your head back to meet his eye. "Miguel, why do you think I'm mad at you? I'm not mad." 
Miguel glares at you. Brows furrowed, an especially formidable downturn to an otherwise pretty mouth, he looks as though he wants to start a fight with you, and as though he doesn't believe it. 
"I'm not mad," you insist, sitting up a little. 
"Then…" 
You scrunch your brows at him. "You've been thinking I was mad at you all day? Why didn't you say something, handsome?" 
He might roll his eyes at your pet name if he weren't knee deep in relief. You didn't know being mad at him was something he'd be sad with, and yet there he is lying beneath you, blowing a big enough exhale to ruffle the hair from his forehead. 
Miguel takes your face into one hand. Your eyelashes flutter against his palm like a shuddering butterfly wing as you lean into his touch, more than happy to offer him whatever relief it is he needs while enjoying in the feeling of being close to him. 
"You haven't kissed me all day," he says quietly. "I thought I must've pissed you off, 'cos you're more piranha than girl sometimes, but you weren't acting any weirder than usual beyond that." 
You roll your eyes and hide your face in his hand. He's kidding around, and his thumb rubs over your skin tenderly to prove it. 
"You're not mad?" he asks again. 
You kiss his palm. You kiss his wrist, happy when he knows the moves like a well practised dance, his fingers sliding behind your ear to steady you as you dip down for a kiss. 
It's a good kiss. Warm mouths vying for one another but trying not to seem desperate, Miguel's hand behind your ear growing harsher as you pull a breath against his lips. You press your hand into his pec too hard. 
"Sorry," you murmur, stealing another fast kiss and pulling away. 
You barely feel how uncomfortably you're skewed, you're that happy. 
"Is there a reason you wouldn't kiss me?" he asks. 
"I'm, like, always the first one to initiate and I kinda got it in my head maybe you didn't want me kissing you that much…" You grin at him. "The whole time you're playing twenty questions with me wishing I'd lay one on you. You know you have a voice for more than yelling at people, right?" 
Miguel gets this look in his eyes then, rolling his jaw a touch at the supposed audacity of what you've said. The tip of his tongue works at his canine tooth, his eyebrows rising as he asks, "Oh, is that how you're talking to me tonight?" 
"How else should I talk to you, Miguel?" 
He doesn't bother with swiftness nor a show of strength as he rolls you onto your back. He settles above you with measured movements, a pleased smirk playing on his lips now. His eyes are dark, pupils wide as dimes.
"With compassion, mi cielo," he says.
"Have some sympathy for me," you implore him, wrapping your arms around his waist. It diffuses the tension, though neither party minds, evidenced by Miguel's easy relaxation and your ecstatic mood. Happiness bubbles up like carbonated bubbles, your chest awake with a fizzing excitement. "You really thought I was mad 'cos I wasn't kissing you?" 
He avoids the question. "You think you're the only one who initiates?" he asks genuinely. 
"Why didn't you kiss me, then? When you came home?" 
"Your face was wet." 
"And after when we were eating dinner?" 
Miguel smiles at you. No sarcasm, no stress. He leans down to kiss you chastely, pulling away to say, "I thought you were definitely mad at that point." 
"A kiss would've made me feel better." 
You realise how quiet your bubble of the world really is for that handful of seconds, Miguel holding himself above you, your hands loose behind the broad stretch of his back. 
"You know you can just ask me, yeah? You don't have to worry and wonder how I'm feeling. I'll tell you how I'm feeling if you want to know." 
"Cariño, I always want to know," he says. 
You breathe out slowly. Miguel takes your face into his hand for another kiss, or so you think —he pinches your cheek. 
"And I always want to kiss you," he says quickly, climbing off of you. 
"Where are you going?" 
"I need a drink." 
A break from sincerity. You don't mind that he needs to walk it off as long as he comes back. You stretch out on your back and cover your face with your hands. 
"People think I'm the weird one," you say into them.
A hand clamps around your ankle and tugs you down. You shriek with startled laughter and climb away from him as he lands on top of you, a cold water bottle held to your bare neck. 
"No!" you laugh. 
Miguel laughs in tandem and presses it further down. 
"I really am going to be mad at you if you don't quit!" You yelp as condensation wets your collar. "Miguel!"
"You're a wimp," he says with a bright smile. 
You push him with some enhanced super strength and manage to get the water bottle off of your neck, but Miguel makes up for any differences in strength with enthusiasm and muscle alike, shoving you down. 
You're laughing and pleading at the same time, "Please, Miguel, stop, it's sooooo cold." 
Miguel laughs, dropping the bottle somewhere above your head, covering the cooled stripe of your skin with his big hand. The sound is warming enough, but you let him sweat for a second, content to be doted on. 
He gives you a once over. "I'll kiss you first more," he promises. 
"Starting now, please, handsome. Mi cielo." 
Miguel groans and digs his arms under your back. You don't fight it as he drags you back to the top of the bed. In fact, you quite enjoy it. You lay back to receive his sorry pecks and his all encompassing hug, forgetting what you'd been worried about one damp crescent moon of a kiss at a time.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!
5K notes · View notes
slowbison · 10 months
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Feral! Miguel O'Hara x Top! Male Reader
Summary: Miguel returns to his personal break room after a fight to heal, but forgets to replenish his spider DNA serum, turning him feral. since you’re a spiderman similar to him, he needs to be fucked to be stabilized.
words: 3k
warnings: breeding, wrestling, anal sex, biting, smut
A tired Miguel emerged into his personal break room as a portal from an alternate reality closed behind him. He had spent the last few hours fighting and capturing another anomaly in the wrong multiverse. Body aching from being thrown into buildings, throat parched from yelling orders along with being mentally drained from an old lady that repeatedly hit him as he tried to direct her to safety. Slumping tiredly onto his couch, groaning as he continued to sink into the comfort. He remained still, quietly waiting for his supernatural abilities to kick in and do the healing for him then realized that it was progressing much slower than usual. Soon everything began to heat up around him, pupils dilating and contracting and the suit felt more tightening.
He attempted to stand on his feet before a wave of intense pain and pleasure washed over him causing him to fall, landing on the hard floor. Claws protruding unwillingly from his fingers, muscles tense as his breathing picked up from the sudden wave of heat, fangs feeling much heavier in his mouth. Miguel felt helpless laying on the ground, gasping as it continued to ripple throughout his body after realizing too late that he forgot to intake the serum after returning.
“F-fucking shit, this c-can’t be hap-happening! Not now!” Miguel spat out through gritted teeth as he attempted to resist the sensation sweeping over him, dick growing increasingly aroused. Moaning as he began dryly humping the ground for any form of friction to ease his growing needs. He didn’t even hear any approaching footsteps until an all-too-familiar voice spoke through a door, cursing under his breath. That was the last word he said before fully succumbing to his desires, a low growl rumbling in his throat.
“What couldn’t be happening?” You asked through the door. You were with Miguel earlier, along with the other spider people, captured an anomaly stuck in the wrong dimension. The man in question had asked to see you after imprisoning the anomaly in a trap box to report on the current status of the last reality. When you came up to his office which was seemingly empty, you scanned around the room until your senses began tingling; warning that a strange presence radiated from a rather hidden door in the back. Tracking it down, you honed your hearing to any noises present coming from the door. Only to then discern it was Miguel, making questionable noises that were having an odd affect on you. A flicker of a small flame, lit within you.
“Miguel? Are you alright? I’m getting strange vibes in there. Talk to me.”
You could hear incomprehensible speech and hissing as a loud thunk crashed onto the ground, followed by a low moan. Your face slowly heats up at the possible thoughts of what may be occurring, but this wasn’t the time for your silent desires held for the man to emerge.
Hand on the knob you twisted it before speaking out, “I’m going to open the door if you don’t stop me right now!” You could hear scattering as the door opened, revealing what appears to be a softly dimmed room. Carefully stepping in, you looked around and noticed claw marks on the floor and walls, along with a table flipped over. After completing a full circle around the room, you placed your hands on your hips confused when your senses could not pick up a presence.
"What is this, hide and seek? Thought you said it was childish when I did it to you-" You were cut off as you were tackled to the ground, a strong grip on your shoulders pinning you down. Pain surged as the claws teared into your skin. Peering up at your attacker was Miguel, who looked more feral than usual as he towered over your face, angrily bearing his fangs. His head turned to the side of your neck, grazing over your veins before sinking his fangs - lapping at the blood spilling. You let out a groan, feeling your dick stirring at the action. The flame within you grew brighter, enough to light up a small campfire.
“Hey now, if you wanted to initiate something with me. This wasn’t really what I had in mind, yanno?” You quipped, attempting to push him off with your legs. Though it seemingly felt useless as he’s much stronger than you in terms of strength. Detecting resistance, he growled pushing you deeper into the ground until his body shuddered and let out a soft whine, losing power over you. Taking the opportunity, you quickly switched your positions around before exerting force to his wrists above his head, locking his legs around yours at the same time.
“It’s over Miguel, I have the high ground. So let’s start talking, yeah?” You said, taking the time to fully analyze his current state as he thrashed around, attempting to break free.
His hair was disheveled from its usual swept back appearance, brown eyes tinted with red, and lips lightly stained with blood from what would be assumed of yours. What mainly held your attention was the hard dick pressed up against your own, albeit not as hard… yet. More logs, added to the flame. Paying even more attention, Miguel had long since begun rutting on you, releasing soft whines that progressively got louder. Face flushed, his cries got louder until moved your hand down to his hips, forcing them to still.
Upset by your actions, he began squirming once again in your grasp trying to gain any friction on his straining dick. Entertained by this you let out a chuckle at his actions, “I didn’t take you for a bitch in heat Miguel. I don’t mind fucking you senseless if that’s what you want.”
For the first time, your words seemed to have been processed in his mind. Perhaps at the words “bitch” and “fucking you senseless” was all he took away. And from what you could interpret, Miguel seemed to be more compliant as he waited, staring into your eyes for your next move.
You trailed your hand from his hip across his torso, feeling the toned firm abs on your palm. Closing your eyes, you heightened your sense of what his soft skin must feel like underneath. It wasn’t your first time running your hands along his abs, as you had decided to join his customary workout session. More like you invited yourself claiming that steel-ton trucks weren’t going to be handled by just anyone. He begrudgingly sighed refusing to argue although he didn’t put up much of a fight and the next morning you stood in front of the gym, duffel bag slung across your shoulders with Miguel at your side.
The gym had been far greater than your own personal gym’s dimension, but what really made the place shine was watching a slightly sweaty Miguel performing curl ups beneath you as you held down his legs. He didn’t ask you to but rolled his eyes while hearing you proclaim that proper positioning of the feet were important to ensure a safe workout. His face was lightly scrunched as he focused on completing his sets, your eyes lingered on his chest that were more profound and round each time he came up and traveled to his torso, abs showing due to sweat clinging onto the shirt. You didn’t even realize Miguel had finished his sets and begun looking up at your face as he laid on the ground, chest heaving, trying to maintain his normal breathing.
The tension was palpable between you two, as it had been whenever you were both left alone in a room. Moving your hands from his legs, tracing at his abs but before you could slip your hands under his shirt to feel more, a stranger rudely interrupted your rather boner-inducing moment by asking to use the area if you both were done. Miguel let out an annoyed click before standing, clearing his stuff out and proceeded to the pull up bars. You stared daggers into the strangers back, gritting your teeth, before returning to completing the rest of your workout, huffing as you went along and closed your eyes embedding the view into your head; opening them at the sight of Miguel’s thrashing beneath you as your mind had carried you elsewhere away from him. Heat swarmed within your body, as much bigger logs fueled the flames.
You let out a chuckle and gripped at his suit before tearing the fabric apart on his thighs. Asking that he’d forgive you later, Miguel hissing at you before quivering, at the cold hands felt on his skin. Palming his dick on your hands, not willing to give him just what he wants so soon. Miguel let out a drawled moan as he pushed hips up, applying more pressure on his leaking dick, aching for more.
No longer able to resist your own throbbing prick, you removed your hand from his cock and went to release your own from its imprisonment, making the mistake as your grip on his wrists loosen. Miguel seized the opportunity and broke free, wrestling your own arms for control. Snarling as he pushed you back slightly which was short lived as your hand returned — after managing to pull your pants down — grabbing at his arms and flipping him around, laying flat on his stomach. You pressed the side of his head into the floor, hissing at his ear.
“Stay down like the bitch you are and take it.” you snapped shoving three of your fingers into his mouth, lining your cock at his cheeks, fucking those fat globes hidden underneath his tight suit. Tearing at the fabric, giving you more leverage to his ass. Miguel moans around your fingers, sucking and coating them in his spit as you increase the pace. “Gonna fill you up so good,” you huffed into his neck, marking the sensitive skin, “Won’t stop till you’re full of my seed, carrying my kids.” Miguel whimpered, cock twitching at the thought of being bred so thoroughly in order to carry your children inside of him.
You purred into his ear, loving the way he began losing himself more to the pleasure. “You like that? Breed you full of my kids inside your cunt, huh?” Miguel whines got louder, desperately moving his hips further against your own in response. You slipped your fingers out his mouth, rimming around his entrance before slipping inside. At first, you toyed with him, simply thrusting it in and swirling it around, but hearing his broken whimpers you curled the finger relishing at the sounds.
Miguel’s face altered between pain and pleasure as you slipped the second finger in. Stretching the ring in scissoring motions as he jerked weakly back into your fingers, cock straining against his torso, swollen tip leaking onto the floor desperately wishing for more.
You tutted at his actions, shoving his hips down on the ground — digging your nails into his side. “Last warning love, I’ll have to web you down on this floor. Is that what you want?” Miguel turned to his side, face flushed and glaring into your eyes, a low growl emitting from his throat that was cut off with a yelp as you inserted a third finger. You pump your fingers in and out of his entrance, watching as he slightly arched his back and let out small mewls of pleasure. You could feel him forcibly relaxing as you readied him for your cock.
After a few more of these ministrations, you removed your fingers from and spat at your hand, coating your erection, aligning at his puckering hole. The thought of thrusting in with the lack of decent preparation crossed your mind as it would be pleasurable, but the second Miguel was sane he’d tear you to half, refusing to allow you anywhere near him. For a while at least. Flames had turned into a roaring bonfire, slowly dissipating your desire to hold back.
Taking it slow, you eased your way in, groaning as the tight crevice swallowed you deeper. Miguel gasped at the intrusion, squirming away as you plunged deeper into his, settling fully inside him. Your senses melting at the seams as intense flames of pleasure surged throughout your body, letting out a keen growl into his ear. The unknown wave of heat continued to boil within you, huffing steams of hot air from your nostrils. Your eyes slightly tinted red peering back at his own.
“Fuck, you feel so good baby, so fucking tight for me” you growled into his ear, nuzzling your face into his neck. “So fucking tight for me, gonna make you my personal cum dump.”
Miguel whimpered, closing his eyes and buried his head into the floor while the pain of the stretch died and anticipation of getting fucked full arose. He wiggled his hips back, hoping to entice your animalistic urge that you’ve been holding back to give him adequate time to adjust. You cooed at his submission to you and rewarded him with continuous hard thrusts, shoving your cock as deep as you could, flames consuming your entire body.
Miguel’s eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out, letting out broken cries, clamping down around your cock. There was a mix of pain at the brutal thrusts as he didn’t have the best preparation, but that didn’t matter as he continued to beg, throwing his ass back to meet your pace. Garbling nonsensical strings of ‘words’ that were stuck in his throat, cries of pleasure coming up instead.
You keened as you put more pressure into the grip on his hip, releasing your hold on his wrists and rammed your cock in, molding his ass so it would remember only you and your shape. The thought reeling you deeper into the unconscious, leaving only your carnal desires to devour you whole along with dumping all your cum into the man below, belly round - full of your cum. Miguel clawed at the ground bracing himself as you continued your onslaught, drool pooling at the edge of his mouth. He could barely think straight, the only thing he can remember is sitting at his chair before a scalding heat washed over him and now he’s being fucked into oblivion until his desire to be thoroughly bred satiated.
Miguel pressed his hips back and rocked against yours, not wanting to waste any drop of cum that could fertilize his children carrying within him. Seeing Miguel so pliant to be fucked full of your cum drove you to the edge, biting his neck which left a dark mark. Though it wasn’t enough to break skin, it will warn others that the bitch was claimed and to stay away. Either way, the reaction that got out of the submissive man was a choked sob, body trembling before spurts of cum sprayed on his chest, dripping onto the floor. He collapsed underneath you, but still weakly tightened his hole around your cock, determined to milk it for all it’s worth.
Your thrusts became erratic as you neared closer and closer to eruption. Panting heavy into his ear you snarled, “Fu- fucking shit, here it comes baby. Don’t spill any of it bitch, got it?” Miguel whimpered, but obeyed as he mustered up all his remaining strength to clench his hole. Pushing your chest against his back, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you soon let out a groan, hips jerking before stilling altogether. Strings of curses leaving your mouth, swearing that for a small moment your soul ascended towards a warm comforting light.
Miguel was in a similar disheveled state as you, though slightly worse off. His face laying in a pool of his own drool, red eyes dimmed as his brown eyes returned, claws retracting into his fingers and ass quivering to hold in your cum, slowly reaching its end.
You rolled to the side, cock still lodged in Miguel and ran your hand along his side, stopping to caress his stomach, feeling a slight bump that was undoubtedly your cum. Which was almost concerning as you had never come this much before, much less been this aggressive during sex with anyone, but you shrugged it off assuming that it was just different with Miguel, curling your arms around him. Speaking of the man, he let out a groan as he shakily turned his body to face you. Eyes piercing into your soul, face contorted in slight anger. You chuckled and ran your hand in his hair, caressing the side of his face, whipping off the drool gently.
“Welcome back my charming beast. Did your dashing prince break the curse?” You smiled, watching as Miguel huffed and rolled his eyes at you.
“It wasn’t a curse, I just lacked the necessary genes of a spider and lost control a little. It’s a side effect of sorts.”
“A little?” You eyed, glancing at the room covered in claw marks that matched the scratches on your shoulders and arms.
Miguel turned to the side, mouth creased.
“I’m sorry, this was a first for me too… I’ve never attacked someone before,” he quietly muttered under his breath. Seeing this, you huddled him close into your arms and kissed the top of his temple.
“Hey now, it’s alright. Nothing I can’t handle anyway, you forgetting that I’m Spider-Man?“ You chided, pressing your forehead against his. A small smile gracing his face as you both quietly waited to regain your strength. Falling in a trance of listening to one another's breathing, body’s conjoined as one.
“Say, when you were working on that DNA thing, was there a little bit of wolf involved?”
“No there wasn’t, stop talking. You’re ruining the moment.”
“So it’s just a cute little kink of yours to be bred by me?”
“We are NOT having this conversation.”
“My dick is literally still in you.”
Miguel grumbled and made a weak effort of pushing away from you, but you laughed it off, pulling him closer.
a/n: hey y’all, it’s a little bit late but here it is, in all it’s smutty glory. i would also like to say that my eyes have been opened to a much softer side of Miguel as a soccer mom, but because of a bastard on my tiktok fyp, there is an angst ending in my mind that could be separated from the main, if one wishes to remain in la-la-land. i might write up a lil on that world to see how it'd work, not sure when it'd drop. but because of this smut, my brain kept making different branches of miguel getting fucked and it won’t stop plaguing my mind so those are in the works, one of them including jealousy towards lego spider-man… hope y'all enjoyed this.
that being said, leon’s fic is up next to be dropped though i might be a smidge late on that. apologies. if you are interested in that, you the reader purchase an experimental drug that heals wounds made by the merchant. you give it to a wounded leon who later on notices changes in his body, specifically his chest as stains show up on his shirt... around his nipples...
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gh0stsp1d3r · 11 months
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𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭
𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐢 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠... 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨
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Female reader
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖- 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 18+.
𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰 (:
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He held onto your hips tightly, throwing his head back. You moaned and he smiled ever so slightly at the noises.
His mouth made its way towards your neck, he opened his mouth and softly dug his fangs into your skin.
It hurt for a second, but the pain felt oddly good and turned you on.
He licked up the blood that fell down. You whined and he groaned at the noise. He was just getting harder and harder every second as you rode him.
“At the same time, alright?” He couldn’t take any more waiting. His claws dug into your back, making marks that would probably last a while.
“Mhm.” You said, going slower as you reached your peak.
You both came undone at the same time.
You slowly got off of him, him helping you. He breathed heavily and you made yourself comfortable on the bed. His hands went around you, holding you tightly.
“You did so good. 𝑴𝒚 good girl.” He said quietly. He kissed your forehead and he looked down at you in his arms. You looked at him and smiled.
You looked so perfect and small compared to him, he loved it.
“What’s got you all happy today?” You mumbled.
“Nothing. Just happy to see you.”
“Mhm… sure.” You laughed and he just rolled his eyes.
You traced patterns on his chest, and he just stared in admiration.
“Sometimes I forget how big you are.” You mumbled.
“Ah, but you still take it.” He said with a smirk. You slapped his chest, you both laughed loudly
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hoshigray · 11 months
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Pleasurable Practice
Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...
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A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!
Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.
Wc: 2.8k
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"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"
"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."
"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.
It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.
Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"
You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"
The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"
"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."
"What language?"
"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"
Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.
".....Please stay and help me."
"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."
"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.
It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.
After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.
"What're you doing?"
However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.
Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.
"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."
"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"
"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."
The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"
You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."
Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."
Huh? "Excuse me?"
"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."
Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"
"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.
For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.
The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.
"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"
Huh? "What?"
"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."
His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.
Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.
"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."
"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."
He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."
"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!
You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"
Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.
"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."
It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"
He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.
He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."
Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.
Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??
"Túmbate."
He captures your attention. "What?"
"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."
Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"
"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."
You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."
"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."
His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."
His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.
"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."
He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."
Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.
His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.
Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.
He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."
You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!
With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.
"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.
"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"
He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."
"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"
"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.
"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."
He hums. "Lyla."
"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.
"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"
"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"
"...."
"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.
Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"
"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."
"Can you please give us the co—"
"Already gave it to Jess."
"Then what was the point���"
"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."
To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"
"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"
"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"
"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"
It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"
"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.
"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."
6K notes · View notes
messylustt · 10 months
Text
౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.6k words
fic masterlist previous five pt six next part
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mentions of injury; miguel be fantasising bout you guys; miguel makes you say spanish sentences that you don’t know the meaning of (i don’t think this is a warning but oh well); please also forgive if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes (I’m tired af) — after the incident you wake up at HQ, with a note saying your hired status. with confusion you go to speak to miguel. along the way there and back you get your friends acting suspicious. miguel finally begins to accept that he wants to keep you close.
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Your eyes slowly blink open, bright light invading your vision. At first you just lie there, no thoughts really occupying your brain.
As you go to sit up, having realised that you're lying on a bed, a hand suddenly rests on your shoulder. You turn to see Hobie. "Careful there, mate, wouldn't want ya knocking out again."
"What..." You drift off, brows furrowing as you rub your temples. "Knocked out...oh." Thoughts, or more so memories, begin to flood your brain. The different universe. Miles. The masked men. The running...and then...Miguel. You remember seeing Miguel, he had helped you, asking you to stay quiet.
You remember the instant feeling of relief when he had spoken, and then the droopy feeling of your exhausted body.
You go to swing your legs off the bed, as you gaze around the medical room. But Hobie keeps his hand on your shoulder. "You've gone through some stuff over the past couple days, take it easy."
"I'm alright...thank you." You nod, giving him a small smile. "Am I back at HQ?" Then you further mutter. "I thought he'd send me home."
"Yeah, me too...but maybe your act of defiance changed his mind." Hobie chuckles.
You go to shake my head. "I didn't mean t-"
"Mean to go, yeah don't worry we knew not long after you disappeared." Hobie interrupts.
You nod, but then your brows begin to furrow. "Wait, how did you know?"
"Miguel actually found out. He got pissed you left a day early. Thanks for that, by the way." Hobie nudges your shoulder gently.
You softly chuckle, though your thoughtful expression stays. "How'd he found out? I could've just gone home. I planned to just go home."
"I think he went to your universe." Hobie says, a sly grin forming.
You stare at him. "Why? To tell me I should have worked that day?"
Hobie shrugs. "Maybe."
You shift your body, so that you're somewhat facing him more. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Hm?" Hobie hums, acting innocent.
"Hobie don't have that expression if you're gonna stay silent." You wave your finger in front of his face.
Hobie stands, putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you're talking about, y/n."
"Hobie."
But he's already walking out he door. "Oh." He pokes his head back in. "There's some lunch on that table there. Be grateful I didn't eat it."
;;
You stare at the note in your hand. It read 'You're not fired as of Tuesday'.
"Peter, hey. Have you seen Miguel?" You ask as Peter nears you, your hand now scrunching around the note. Another god forsaken note.
"Y/n, hey. Glad to see you look less pale." Peter smiles, but you're persistent.
"Apparently I'm not fired?"
"You got your job back, nice." Peter at first doesn't notice your blatant narrowed gaze. But when he does, his smile turns to a frown of confusion. "You don't seem happy about that."
"I'm confused. He isn’t one to mess with people…right?"
Peter tilts his head to the side. "Eh, part of me wouldn’t be surprised if he did." He mutters.
"I mean, not even a day ago he was wanting me gone. Not that much has happened to change his mind." You say.
"Actually a lot has happened."
"Yeah, but that stuff shouldn't change his decision about me working here."
Peter shrugs. "Maybe it did."
"Your elaboration there is great, Peter, thanks." Your sarcasm is clear.
Peter smiles, fixing the spider beanie on Mayday's head, as she babbles on about something. "Go talk to him. Most of the time I can't read him, so I wouldn't have a clue."
"That's why I'm trying to find him." You say, to which Peter answers with "I think I saw him heading to the top floor."
And so you make your way to the stairs to heaven (hell). You had just walked down them in an effort to find Miguel, now you were walking up them...in an effort to find Miguel. This fact only seemed make you even more annoyed with him.
Great, you got your job back, but at this point you needed to know why. You needed to know what made him change his mind that quickly. Nothing else ever has. Miguel has always been one to make final decisions, with not much there to sway him.
You think back to Miguel’s reasoning for his initial firing, as you walk up the steps. It was because of the attack. So why would he re-hire you because of another one? Or more so because of the same masked men who had attacked. Were they even the reason?
Does Miguel think you know something, and is wanting you back to tell him? No—you think to yourself. He wouldn’t re-hire you for that simple reason.
When you reach the top, your gaze gets caught up in a decision of what direction to take. None of his offices were up here. The only place you can think that Miguel would go is his room.
But you pause in front of his door. Did you really want to go in there? He’s clearly not working if is in there. God, but you had too many unanswered questions, so you knock.
It’s silent for a moment, besides your breathing and the distant chatter of spider-people. You go to knock again, but the door creaks open. It’s darker inside, the dim lighting reminding you of one of his past requests. You can remember the feel of his broad shoulders when giving him that massage. The small groans he would let slip.
You had pushed aside that memory, not liking the way it made your entire body buzz. “Miguel?”
Then he opens the door wider, staring down at you. His position was surprisingly relaxed, one arm leant against the doorframe, as he wore those monotoned clothes that brought out his red eyes.
Speaking of those red eyes, you caught them scanning your body, a little too slowly and for a little too long. You gulp, not meaning to come across so nervous.
You hold up the severely scrunched up note. Miguel shifts his gaze to it. “I see you decided to take your annoyance out on that this time.” He comments.
You narrow your eyes. “Why am I not fired?”
“I thought you’d be happy to see that note.” He says, relaxing more against the doorframe.
“No. I’m not happy to see any note.” You say, lowering your arm. “Why couldn’t you just tell me in person?”
“Because I wanted to avoid this.” He gestures to you in general.
“You can’t expect me not to be a little curious at the sudden change of heart.” You say, trying not to let your gaze drift down his body. When he had shifted his shirt rose a fraction, letting you see part of his hips and abs.
Of course he had abs. You weren’t blind to how built he was, but the small visual still seemed to make you blink too many times and your brain re-wire.
“You don’t need to be curious.” Miguel states, his tongue running along his fang as if he were bored, but the expression in his eyes begged to differ.
“But I am.” You say, tucking the note in your back pocket. “Look, it’s beneficial for you if I know the reason. Then I can work on what made you want to fire me and continue doing what made you re-hire me.”
“Don’t do what made me re-hire you.” Miguel quickly answers.
Your brows furrow. “You’re saying that like what I did was bad…Why would you hire me for something you don’t want me to do again?”
“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”
“Don’t worry, I have a lot more in my head for you.” You smile.
Miguel shakes his head, looking away with a clench to his jaw. The tiniest of smiles edged the corner of his mouth, but with his turned away head you weren’t able to catch it. And when he glanced back it was gone.
“Can’t I do something without being questioned?” Miguel asks. “I mean, you got your job back, you should be happy…and any other sparkly emotion.”
“You should use those ‘sparkly emotions’ more often, O’Hara. You know people who can lead with positivity usually get more people on their side.” You tilt your head with a raise to your brow.
“You do realise going off track isn’t gonna make me tell you anything.” Miguel says.
Your smile falls as you press your lips together with a sigh. Miguel darts his gaze up your form again, checking your injuries. Your ankle was only partially sprained so no cast was needed, but his gaze kept on getting caught up on the small cuts that littered your body. Some faint, some more prominent, like the one on your bottom lip.
Before he knows it he’s grabbing a belt loop of your pants, pulling you slightly closer as he tilts your head how he wants. Your eyes widen at the action as your heart begins to pick a quicker pace. Two of his fingers stay under your chin—keeping your head tilted up—while his thumb hovers over your cut lip, his gaze narrowed in inspection.
“You should make sure that that doesn’t get infected.” He says in a whisper.
You scoff, though it comes out softer than intended, you having to gulp immediately after. You had been right—having him this close was going to give you a heart attack. “That’s rich coming from you.” Your voice has turned to a mere whisper also.
“You keep seeming to forget that you’re only human.” He mutters. “Weak.”
“You forgot annoying.” You mutter back. Miguel meets your gaze and you freeze. He was close. Too close. Because your mind was beginning to fog over as you stared at Miguel’s intrigued eyes.
Then suddenly he says “We’ll continue our Spanish lessons in a few hours.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary anymore.” You say, to which his eyes narrow, his hold still keeping your head tilted up.
“Really?” He sounds disbelieving. “So, you manage to say one Spanish sentence, and that’s it? you’re done?” He tilts his head his eyes darting. “I thought you were more determined than that.”
You narrow your eyes in turn. “And I learnt that sentence from my phone. So, yes, I think I’m fine.”
A small sneering smirk began to curve his lips. “I thought I took your phone.”
Your mouth opens and closes. “I…got a new one.”
“Or…you stole it back.” He counters, raising a brow.
“It’s easier this way. I don’t have to bother you with lessons.”
“But I liked getting something in return.” He answers smoothly.
“You were asking for things anyone could do.” You say.
“But I’d have to pay for someone to give me a massage.” He mocks sadness. “When you were there being oh so nice and generous.”
“I wasn’t being generous. It was apart of the deal.”
“And it still is.”
“No. You firing me, got rid of the deal altogether.” You say, moving to step away, wanting to breath in air that wasn’t getting mixed in with his.
But he pulls you back, tightening his hold on your chin a fraction, one of his fingers dragging to rest on the in-between of your jaw and neck.
“But I re-hired you, which means the deal’s back on.”
“What if I say no to the job?” You suddenly ask.
“Chaparrita, you’re not gonna say no.”
And you hated the fact that he was right. No matter what people said you did like this job, being around all these spider variants. It settled for an interesting life.
Miguel’s finger—that rested by your jaw—started to subtly caress back and forth. It had soon grown into a habit of his, when he got the chance to touch you.
There was almost something soothing about it for him. Being able to feel your soft skin against his claws, that he would usually only use for violence. A contradiction that silently said to him ‘Not everything about you is violent. Not everything has to be’.
And those words only seemed to come up in your presence. At first he had been annoyed by them and that fact. He doesn’t have time or the energy for “feelings” and such. He had to stay focused.
But over—especially—the past few days his annoyance had fizzled away, slowly but surely. Shifting to a feeling that he much preferred, one that made his body buzz with heat. And of course—only in your presence.
So, yes, maybe he did re-hire you so that the masked men wouldn’t be able to find you in your home, but maybe it was also for selfish reasons. Not liking the idea of not seeing you, even if his scowl was still present.
He liked being around you, even just listening to you talk. It all still confused him, but he finally recognised his want for you to stay. To make him feel settled, calm even.
At the end of the day, both his ‘reasons’ for re-hiring you are selfish and he knows it. He wants you close and in his line of vision, and he was going to make sure things stayed that way.
“Alright.” You say, finally agreeing to continuing this deal with Miguel. “But please don’t make me run around endlessly.”
“Have I been?” He shakes his head for you. “No. I’ve only given you easy tasks.”
You don’t why he has but you are definitely grateful. “Don’t use your phone again.” He suddenly says.
“Many people use phones for different thin—“
Miguel cuts in, sparing you an annoyed look. “For Spanish lessons.”
You finally manage to step back, holding in your sigh of relief until you were alone. Miguel watched you intently, catching onto the way your hand began to fiddle nervously with the very same belt loop he had been holding onto.
“I’ll uh…see you in a few hours then.” You say, beginning to step backwards down the hallway. “In the tech room?”
Miguel shakes his head. “It’s still being repaired. Just come back to my room.”
You ignore the flutter in your stomach, as you nod. “See you then.” Then you swiftly turn and head towards the stairs.
Miguel watches you go, his lips curving up into an easy smile.
;;
A few hours later—those hours having been filled with back and forth thoughts—you were walking past all the different spider variants, heading towards Miguel’s room.
You narrowed your feelings down to nervousness, having gone in a roundabout of thinking ‘it’s fine’ ‘I’ll be fine’ to ‘im starting to sweat’ ‘why the hell am I starting to sweat?!’
“Y/n!” A voice stopped you, and you turn to see Miles, Gwen and Hobie.
“Miles.” You smile. “So sorry for practically leaving you back there.” You did feel bad.
“Please don’t. I would have told you to run anyway. Those men were scary.” He made a face which made you chuckle. “They had like….real large claws.”
“Yeah…would much prefer never to see them again.” You half chuckle.
“How are you?” Gwen asks, taking her hood off.
You nod. “Good. Better. Yeah…a lot better.” You glance down at your ankle. “Wish I wasn’t so accident prone though.”
“Nah.” Hobie begins, swinging his arm around your shoulder. “You jus’ have a running theme of bein’ in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“That makes me feel so much better.” You scoff.
“Where are you headed anyway?” Hobie asks you.
“Oh, just to Miguel’s—“ you pause. You were gonna say ‘Miguel’s bedroom’ but then realised how strange that would sound. “To speak to Miguel.”
“I thought you already did?” Gwen asks, brushing her hair from her eyes.
“Yes…but…we have more to discuss.” You nod.
“Like what? Does he want to talk to you about his strange display of worry the other day?” Hobie asks with a sly smirk.
You glance at him, brows furrowing. “Coz that don’t really sound like him.” Hobie continues.
“You’re doing that face again.” You say, narrowing your eyes.
“Am I?” He again prays innocence.
“Yeah, you are. And it’s beyond annoying.”
“Jus’ like I thought he found you.” Hobie mutters almost smugly.
“What?”
In response Hobie just smiles at you, putting his hands in his pockets. You shift your gaze to Gwen, who is looking away.
“Why are you guys acting so suspicious?” You ask.
“We just find it…strange is all.” Gwen says.
“Find what strange?”
“Well…Miguel was the one to bring you in…which isn’t strange, but it was just the way he was acting.” Gwen begins, making your brows furrow further.
“I’m not following.” You say slowly.
“He didn’t really let any of the doctors touch you up.” Gwen continues.
“Then how….?” You’re confused. Because you had woken up with clean cuts and a fixed ankle.
“Ay, what are we all talking about, you guys?” Pav appears, swinging down from a different ceiling path.
“Jus’ about Miguel’s strange actions in medical.” Hobie says.
“Oh yeah!” Pav nods quickly. “He was acting really different. Wouldn’t let anyone near you, y/n.” He gestures to you, to which you raise your brows in disbelief. Then Pav chuckles. “It was almost like he was—“
But Gwen cuts him quickly. “He was just acting different. That’s all.” Gwen spares Pavitr a small glare.
“Okayyy.” You drag out, eyeing them all again. “Right now Miles is the only one seeming to be acting normal. Which I appreciate.” You had begun to back up down the path. Miles spares you a small smile in response.
As you begin to head to Miguel’s room, their words circled your head. What did they mean by ‘didn’t let the doctors touch you up’ or ‘didn’t let anyone near you’. They’re right—that is different from Miguel. So far different that you just can’t seem to believe it.
Maybe they were playing some prank. But even though you can see Hobie and Pav coming up with that joke, you can’t see Gwen getting in on it.
But those thoughts soon drift away as you near Miguel’s door again. You knock, feeling your palms increase in sweat.
Miguel opens the door. Upon seeing you he tilts his head, asking for you to come inside. You do, slipping past him and into the cozy, dim room.
“I hope you’ve come up with some helpful phrases.” You say turning to him. “Because I gave up my phone for this.”
Miguel pulls out a desk chair, taking a seat. You look around, seeing no other chair to occupy. “Use my bed.” He says, gesturing to his ruffled sheets.
You turn your gaze to it, holding down the small hitch of your breath. Why was it hitching? It was just a bed.
You walk over, carefully taking a seat at the edge, facing an already seated Miguel. “And yes, I am better than your phone.” He says, meeting your gaze.
“You sure?” You question. “My phone is pretty helpful.”
“And you’re saying I’m not?” Miguel asks with a small tilt his head. “That hurts.” His dry humour was something that had grown on you. Whether you liked it or not.
“Quiero ir a la feria.” It was a simple beginner question that you repeated effortlessly.
“Quiero ir a la feria.”
“It means ‘I want to go to the fair’.” Miguel explains.
After a few more simple sentences, a idea pops up in Miguel’s head. He probably shouldn’t execute it, but of course he still will.
“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” Miguel says, waiting for you to repeat it.
“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” You repeat, your flow having gotten a lot better.
Miguel’s breathing hitches upon hearing the words. You had assumed he got you to say something simple, along the lines of ‘I am a farmer who plants trees’. But he instead made you say ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.
And Miguel should probably stop and move on, but he doesn’t particularly want to. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?”
“Aren’t you gonna tell me what the other sentence means?” You ask.
“Repeat it.” Miguel doesn’t budge.
You sigh. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?” (Don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets, Miguel?) You tilt your head, staring at him. All you know is that you asked him a question, but that’s about it.
Miguel breathes heavier, giving you a once over. “Tan bonita.” (So pretty.) He murmers.
“Do you want me to repeat that too?” You ask.
Miguel chuckles. “That’s fine.” Your words staying trapped in Miguel’s brain, seeming to repeat…over and over.
Miguel’s gaze kept flicking to your lips. Conflicting emotions resided behind this action. He could see your cut, which reminded him of the fact that you got dragged into a mess you didn’t particularly ask for, resulting in you getting injured and down right hunted.
The other emotion veered closer to his reasoning for getting you to say those sentences. He wanted to feel them. Lean closer…and see what they felt like. Maybe he wanted to soothe your cut with his tongue…
“Miguel? Are you gonna tell me what I just said?” You ask, leaning closer to get his attention.
Miguel meets your gaze. “I’ll let you try and figure it out.”
“That’s not very good teaching.” You mutter.
He just shrugs. “Then I guess you‘ll never know.”
“And don’t translate it on your phone.” Miguel says pointedly. “That would make you a bad student.”
You clench your jaw but nod. “Fine…” your gaze shifts to the window, seeing the dark sky.
You quickly stand. “I didn’t realise it was this late. I should go.” You begin to head to the door.
Miguel watches your every movement, until you glance back giving him a small nod. “Thanks for somewhat of a good lesson.”
Miguel just hums with a nod, as you turn shutting the door and leaving. Leaving Miguel to gaze back at his bed and where you were seated.
He had already begun to decide on what he wants in return.
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ok, this post isn’t letting me add the colours and now I’m sad
this part was a little less action, coz i wanted focus more on miguel’s fEeLiNgS. coz boy does he have them
taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbbo @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright
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5K notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 11 months
Text
Take a seat || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader
Summary: Never in your wildest dream did you imagine having your husband ask you to sit on his face.
Tags: Face sitting, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, smut, NOT BETA READ.
Words: 1.2k
saw someone plead for this one lmao. They asked so nicely so I delivered, idk if this is how it usually goes tbh. This shit's so rushed but I guess I have to squeeze everything out before school starts again tomorrow aaaaaaaaaa
other than that, enjoy! Thank you all for your love on my fics aaaaaaaaaa im running out of header pics da;flkhwah
mi vida - my life || dios mio - my god || mi bella esposa - my beautiful wife || cariño - honey
“You want me to do what now?”
Miguel sighed exasperatedly as he facepalmed, embarrassed. “Don’t make me repeat mys—”
“No no no, I heard you loud and clear.” Which doesn’t mean you understand why all of a sudden. “But why?”
“Should I have any reason why I want you to sit on my face?”
In a gazillion universe, you’d never thought you’d hear those words come out of his lips. Sitting on his lap, you stared at the man incredulously to which he scowled at.
Usually, oral between you both are usually done with you underneath him as he pinned your thighs open and wide for him since he likes the control. To hear him ask you to sit on his face mid-foreplay shocked you.
You pinched your thigh, unconvinced by his sudden change of mind and Miguel sighed once more.
“Is it that hard to believe? Dios mio, if you don’t want to do it, just say it—”
“No no no, lay back down, I’m just processing.”
Excitement thrummed madly in your veins as you pushed the man back into the mattress. Excitement got you removing your underwear in a second before sitting back on his chest. It’s not fast enough apparently, when his strong arms hook under your legs and pull you directly on top of his lips.
Your breath got stuck into your throat. The mere feeling of his hot breath on your skin caused ripples of heat from your abdomen to your fingertips. You’ve always had orals before, it was something he’d never forget, yet there was something about sitting on top of his face that got you aroused more than ever.
“Go any slower and I would’ve thought you’d want to back out.”
“Not my fault. You’re so impatient.”
“A pretty girl sat on top of me, naked and wet, begging to be devoured. Do you think I’d ignore you, mi bella esposa?”
His dark voice, along with his fogged red eyes staring at you through his eyelash sent shivers down your spine, cheeks flushing beet red. You almost slapped the growing smirk off of his face at your flustered state.
“You’re so annoying.”
“And you smell absolutely delicious.”
His arms locked around your thighs and you immediately knew you were done.
His tongue felt like silk gliding through your folds before rolling your clit in figures of eight. You sighed, throwing your head back as pleasure slithered down your spine at his every exhale fanning your skin. 
There was something about the stings his stubbles brings as it scratches your skin along with the stimulation of his tongue that drive you crazy. 
You swear you’re not a masochist by any means, yet when it comes to Miguel, every joy, sadness, pain and pleasure felt like a reward from the high heavens that you couldn’t help but accept with gratitude.
Your hand found stability in his dark locks, pulling and tugging his head closer to your heat, causing him to groan, the vibration seeping into your bones.
His hands roamed your body as if desperate to find a treasure in the unknown, nails dragging the skin from your back and down to the globes of your ass. The sting they left in their wake stirs your nerves awake, the pain mixing in with pleasure. You sighed, falling to lean on the piles of pillows as you dragged your clit with the point of his tongue.
Miguel wandered lower, tongue rolling around the rim of your entrance, sending electric jolts down your legs. You shivered as the sensation of his fangs rubbing against your folds, always so close yet so far away.
You gasped when the appendage plunged into your entrance, his large nose pushing into your clit as he pulled you closer to his face.
“Fuck…!”
“You taste divine.” He groaned. “Give me more.”
Bringing his hand down hard onto your ass, you whined. The stinging pain it left had your body singing for more and you knew Miguel was aware of the effect it has on you with how hard you clench on his silky appendage.
“Move.”
“Huh?”
Another sharp slap echoed in the living room, harder than the one earlier and you cried, hips stuttering forward on his flattened tongue.
“Ride me, cariño. Like you’ve always wanted.”
And you swear you’ve never heard anything more romantic than that.
With a smidge of hesitance, fearing you’d suffocate him, you rolled yourself on his tongue, eyes locked onto his darkened ones that dripped with desire. Still unsatisfied, his hand lands another hit on your skin and you move more desperately against him.
You cry as he starts to pick up the pace of his tongue, putting pressure onto your bead and shaking his head aggressively underneath you. He swats you once more when your hips stutter from the stimulation before clawing your flesh and grounding you further into his mouth.
“Harder.”
“I’m trying—Ah!”
Sneaking a hand below, he immediately inserts two digits inside of you. He spared no time hastening the speed of his thrusts while licking enthusiastically onto your clit making your eyes roll back.
Chasing the pleasure his fingers and mouth offered you, your hips rolled uncontrollably against his face. The obscene squelch echoing in the room would have embarrassed you, yet you couldn’t find it in you to flush.
The tight knot in your abdomen tightens as heat explodes from your chest and reaches down the tips of your limbs. You couldn’t do anything but cry as you tether closer to nirvana.
“I-I’m close.”
“Come for me, mi vida. Give it to me. I want it all.”
With his grounding arm reaching up to rake through your back along with his fingers and tongue, the knot unfurls and you come with a cry. 
Suddenly, he had both arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from fluttering away from his ministrations. You gasped and pushed at his head but he paid no heed to them, rolling and shaking his tongue onto your clit as if trying to coax another climax from you.
“Miguel…!”
His nails digging into your flesh was the only answer you received and maybe the tug on his lips at your trembling thighs as well. It didn’t take long before pain started to blur with pleasure and your hips rocked against his tongue despite the protest of your heat with one hand tugging on his hair and the other holding on for dear life onto the headboard.
You didn’t have the mind to worry about his nose being blocked by your mon pubis, focused solely on your orgasm. With how he ground your hips onto his lips, you knew he didn’t mind.
And with a weak shout, you unravel, flesh and bones, on top of him. There’s a sound of something breaking in the haze, but paid no heed to it as you fall bonelessly onto the mattress. Miguel pulls away, gasping for air just as you turn to face the ceiling.
Your arousal drenching his face evoked something feral within you, the simmering desire in your stomach stirring awake once more. His eyes turned to the headboard and chuckled, reaching over to run his fingers over the dent with amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I guess a Spider-Man will always be a Spider-Man.”
“Oh shut up.” You groaned, chucking a pillow on his face.
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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months
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Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!
Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe
Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈
Have a great day!!!
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Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦
Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.
It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’
Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’
‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.
So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.
Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.
After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’
So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.
‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.
He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.
You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’
‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.
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