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#spider-reader
olsenmyolsen · 4 months
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This Is Me Trying - One - (A Y/N Parker Spider-Woman X Kate Bishop Story)
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masterlist
Summary: The Winter semester is challenging as you fall behind on exams and essays all while an old threat emerges.
Word Count: 3.3K
Content: College stress, cutie Kate Bishop
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You, Y/N Parker, loved Christmas time.
You loved how it changed the city from a smelly concrete jungle into a smelly concrete jungle but with snow!
Lights went up with trees covered in decorations. Lattes got better, and so did the cookies.
The air got colder, and sometimes the people got warmer. Whether it was buying things for strangers or for a lifelong friend. Random acts of kindness increased, but on the flip side, so did the rate of crime.
Plus, swinging in the cold was awful, but with some insulation in the suit, it helped.
All of this to say you still loved this time of the year.
"You know, since you love it so much, how about you let me go? You know, like you said, kindness of strangers and all that!"
You looked at the guy webbed to a pole who just mugged a woman coming home from work and tilted your head.
"You know what you're right. Tis the season!" The man nodded as you took a few steps closer. "However, on second thought!" The man's eyes widened before you webbed his mouth shut.
"Marv, how many times are we gonna do this, buddy?" You patted the man's head as the sirens were approaching.
"Happy Holidays!" You yelled as you swung up to the nearby rooftop, looking for the woman whose purse was in your hand.
As you stay perched on the corner, your phone starts to ring. It was Peter—your best friend and brother. You debated whether to answer it or not, but eventually, you gave in and pressed the side of your mask.
"Hey man, what's up?"
"Not much... I know it's late, but I- I was just wondering if you started on Dr. Ohnn's paper yet? I'm completely lost. H-He knows we're sophomores, right?!"
You chuckled and sighed.
You haven't started on the paper yet.
"Sorry, Pete. I've been busy..." You heard Peter let out a disappointed sigh.
"Y/N... you're out, aren't you?" You felt bad. For the last couple of weeks, Peters has been asking you to take it easy with your after-school duties due to the number of exams these previous few weeks have had and, as mentioned before, the crime rate, but you haven't. If anything, you tacked on more. "Y/N, you know how dangerous I still think this is."
You rolled your eyes. "Yes, Peter, I know, but-" Before you could finish, you saw a person jump from one rooftop to another two blocks down from you. "Hey Pete, I gotta go..."
"Wait Y/N... Y/N!"
The line went dead as you tapped the side of your mask and took off, swinging purse in hand to the stranger on the rooftop.
As you front-flipped from your webbed, you laughed. "Well, if it isn't the purple bird!" You said when you got up from your landing pose, scaring the crap out of the archer. He jumped and drew his bow on you before realizing who it was.
With an exaggerated groan, he withdrew his weapon.
"What do you want, Spider!?" He sounded annoyed. You put your hands over your heart. Purse still in hand. "Ouch! I just wanted to check up on the man who destroyed 30 Rock last year."
Clint Barton rolled his eyes.
"It was a tree and a skating rink. Get over it." You raised your hand and mocked the archer as you stepped onto the roof's ledge.
"Where's the youngster?" You asked switching topics. Clint raised an eyebrow. "What are you spying on me now?" You put your hands up. "As if! Just curious. Making conversation. It's not my fault you two happen to fall into my patrol area."
Clint looked at you. "Your patrol area?" You nodded. "It's called New York. Ever heard of it?" Clint rolled his eyes again. "You can be a pain in the ass sometimes, you know that."
"I've been told."
"By friends?" You laughed. "No by enemies. Wait..? Why did you hear something?"
Clint cracked a smile. "Maybe." He hadn't, but he enjoyed this back-and-forth you two played. Like his protege, it was nice to have someone around who reminded him of the heroes of the past. People that brought hope for the future.
"So is that purse yours or?" Clint looked up from his binoculars at you. "No. It's not my color." When Clint didn't laugh, you continued. "Lady got mugged, and I don't know where to find her."
Clint looked from the purse to you and did it two more times. "What?" You asked when no words were spoken. Clint huffed. "You have her purse. It probably has her ID." You tilted your head before your eyes got wide. "Oh! Her address!"
Clint nodded yes and grumbled about you before looking into his binoculars again.
"Thanks, bird man!" You said as you looked at the address. It wasn't far. "Same time tomorrow?" You asked as you twhiped away.
Clint sent you a thumbs-up even though he wasn't paying attention. But you didn't know that. You saw a thumbs up and smiled.
You were getting through to the old man.
As you twhiped to the woman's place to return her purse, a bright-eyed Kate Bishop saw you.
"It's the Spider!" She very awkwardly whispered to no one else before running to the building; she had no idea you had just left from.
And when she got to the top: "Clint!" She shouted, making the archer jump before realizing who it was. "What!?" He said, looking at her as she smiled with excitement. "The spider! I just saw her!" He nodded like a dad would. "And?" He said. "And! And! And isn't that cool!" Clint shrugged. "I guess. She was here. She actually asked about you." Clint held in a smile.
It was a not-so-secret that Kate had a slight crush/admiration for the web-slinging hero.
"And!?" Kate took the binoculars from Clint and awaited his answer. "And... that was it. Nothing else. She joked around. I rolled my eyes. That was it."
Kate was going to press for my information, but Clint was useless when it came to details so mundane.
"Ugh. Fine. Here." Kate tried to hand the binoculars back, but Clint shook his head. "Look and tell me what you see." Kate looked through them and into the window of a known wheelman. "Tracksuits." She said, making Clint nod.
"See the guy with the awful chops?" Kate shifted her focus to a guy with bad facial hair. "Yeah."
"Look past him on the wall." Kate did just that and smiled. "I thought people only drew on blueprints in the movies?!"
"Our guys must watch a lot of movies," Clint said as he chuckled.
Kate put the binoculars down and looked at Clint. "After last year, do you still think Kingpin and these guys are connected? I mean..." Kate made a gesture that said, "really, these guys??" while pointing in the direction of the Tracksuits.
Clint shrugged. "I think it's best to believe they're connected than to not. Plus.. drugs and money still need to be run for guys like Kingpin. Any disposable person that's easy to pay is like Christmas to these guys."
Kate thought about it and nodded as she looked through the binoculars again. "Remember when we destroyed 30 rock."
Clint groans and closes his eyes. "It was a tree and an ice rink. Not the whole city!"
While Kate was busy trying to figure out what annoyed Clint and what Kingpin was planning next, you were busy climbing into your dorm through the window.
You tore your mask off as your feet landed on the floor. You ran your covered hand through your freshly shortened hair and took a deep breath before frowning. You sniffed the air before lifting your suit close to your nose. "Ah, man.."
The city really got to it tonight.
You tossed your mask into the hamper in your closet as you started wrangling out of your suit. You've been meaning to make adjustments to your suit since your arm muscle has only grown, but you hadn't, which left it a bit tight to get out of sometimes.
Lucky for you, you never had people drop by unannounced, so you could always take your time-
"Y/N is that you- OH MY GOD!"
You turned towards the voice of your brother as the top half of your suit fell, showing off you in your black sports bra and toned abdomen.
"Peter!" You yelled as he threw his hands over his eyes. "I didn't know. I'm sorry!" He shouted as he went to run out the door but hit your wall instead, causing him to fall to the floor, knocked out.
An hour later, as you moved your clothes from the wash to the dryer, Peter woke up. And after scolding him about not knocking, you and him got to work on Dr. Ohnn's paper.
But with your exhausted brain and body. Plus Peter's... mild concussion, you two didn't get far. So, just as you were about to suggest calling it for the night, your roommate came home.
Where she was or who she was with was always a mystery to you.
"Hey, losers!" Michelle-Jones, aka MJ, greeted you and Peter as she ran to grab the TV remote sitting on the table. She clicked it on and found the local news channel. "MJ, what are you-" She held up a finger and shushed your brother. "Look!" She pointed to the screen as a reporter was standing in front of a run-down apartment building that was on fire. "It's the fifth one this month!" MJ stated. "Everything thinks I'm crazy, but I know insurance fraud when I see it."
You and Peter weren't sure how to continue.
"Okay..." You started. "What's your point?" You questioned, hoping your roommate and friend was going somewhere with this. "Obviously, someone is doing something very illegal."
"Okay..." Peter said. "What can we do about it?"
"We can't do anything about it. But someone here can." MJ started motioning her head towards you, making you sigh. "MJ. I've told you multiple times. The pictures were a summer thing. I don't take their pictures anymore!" MJ rolled her eyes. Clearly not believing you. "Whatever you say..." She narrowed her eyes at you. "Spider!"
Before you could argue back, MJ got up and went to the fridge before taking a box of pizza to her room. "I'm gonna crash. Night."
"I brought that pizza..." Peter quietly said as you collapsed onto the couch. "You were gonna give it to her anyways." You turn your head to Peter. "Was not!" He defends, but you see through him. "You've had a crush on her for the last year, so please let's be honest here."
Peter closed his mouth and then said: "You're the one not being honest with her."
"Dude."
"Sorry," Peter mumbled. "It's just she's going to find out on her own if you don't tell her." He whispered. You nodded. "I know. I know. But you and I both know that the fewer people that know, the less I have to worry about. The less people get hurt."
Peter wore a sad smile on his face. "You're right. I.. I just hate lying to her."
You looked at Peter as he brought his knees close to his chest on the other end of the couch. "I'm sorry, Pete." He nodded. He knew it was easier for you to do this if the less people knew about your other life, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could lie to MJ.
The following morning, after Peter returned to his dorm, you woke up late.
Apparently, in your sleepy daze, you hit 730 into your calculator app and not your alarm clock application. On top of that, you forgot to charge your phone, so as you panicked to get ready for the day, you quickly put in the cable to charge.
You grabbed your closest pair of jeans and threw on your school sweater, all while grabbing the textbooks scattered on your desk.
You ran into the kitchen and grabbed your last pair of pop tarts before heading to the door and slipping on your vans. You zipped up your bag and bolted out the door.
However, you immediately reentered your dorm, ran into your room, snatching your glasses and phone, now on 16%.
_
The lecture hall was full by the time you entered. The booming of the door attracted the attention of everyone.
Your brother included. Your eyes found his, and he gave you a weak smile as you sat at the first seat you could find.
When you pulled out your textbook and looked up, you saw Dr. Connors sigh before he continued speaking. "As I was saying. Yes, just because the holidays are upon us doesn't mean we won't have our test on Friday. I want something fun to grade over the break, people." He gave an awkward chuckle that few students, including you, gave back. "Oh, and don't forget. Your papers on physics are still due by the end of the school year. If you've forgotten... well, there's a reason I'm tenured, and this class lasts all year." He smiled and proceeded to dismiss everybody.
Everybody but you.
"Y/N Parker. A moment."
You knew it was coming, but you kept your head up high. You look to Peter, and he nods. He'd see you after class.
"Dr. Connors, look, I'm sorry about being late-"
"Late?" He cut you off. "You missed the whole dang class." You sighed and adjusted the bag around your shoulder. "Look..." Dr. Connors started. "You're a bright student. I've seen it firsthand, but lately... it's like you're not even here. Your grades have been steadily declining. You always appear exhausted."
You nodded. "I'm trying. I wanna be here!"
"Then be here." He said before he sighed. "You still haven't told me what your physics paper is on."
You perked up at that. "I plan on doing it about fusion and Dr. Otto Octavius."
Dr. Connors sighs. "Well, planning is not a major at this university." He walks past you and goes to the giant board in the middle of the room. He then stops. "Octavius is a friend of mine. Better do your research, Parker." You nod. "I'd really hate to see you fail."
"I don't want to, sir." You say, making Connors look at you with a sad smile on his face. "I can pass along your information to Octavius. Whether he contacts you or not is up to him. After that..." He looks at you. "It's up to you, Parker."
When you exited the lecture hall, you found Peter talking to your mutual friend Ned. The closer you got, the more you saw Peter panic and tell Ned to "shut up."
"What's going on?" Peter shook his head as if nothing was wrong. You looked to Ned, who sheepishly looked away. "Ned." You drug his name out.
Ned took one look at you and broke. "I think I might know about the fires around the city!" He smiled and looked excited. It paid to have Ned be the guy in the chair.
You looked at Peter. "You didn't want him to tell me?" Peter sighed. "Y/N, you have so much going on already we don't need you." He gestures with his hand as if he was shooting a web. "Right now. Besides, you haven't even started on your essay, and you just got in trouble with Connors!"
Before you could defend your lack of action, you get interrupted.
"Hey guys!"
Immediately, your stress melted away as you looked down at Kate Bishop. Captain of the Archery Team. Your friend and study partner.
Oh, and your crush.
Katherine Elizabeth Bishop.
"Hey Kate!" You said a little too excitedly, something that everyone caught on to. Thankfully, they chose not to make a big deal out of it. "Hey, Y/N." She looked at you and smiled.
There goes the butterflies.
"So what are you three amigos talking about?" She bounced on her heels as she looked away from you and to the other two. "Oh, nothing!" Peter said. "I don't think you're allowed to say that?" Ned added with a confused face.
"Doesn't sound like nothing," Kate said, making Peter glance at you. "Sounds like Y/N is getting in trouble with Connors." She replied as she turned to you with a teasing smile. "Let me guess..." She made a thinking face. "Too busy studying for our History test?"
History test!! Oh crap, that is Friday!
"Okay, based on the look I just gained, you forgot." You nodded. Kate made a hmm noise but kept her head towards you as she thought.
"Shit," Ned spoke up. "Peter, we gotta go, or we'll be late!" Peter looked at his watch and came to the same conclusion. "Gotta go! See you, Y/N! Bye, Kate!" Peter and Ned took off running down the hall and out the doors before they sprinted across the courtyard.
"What class do they have?" Kate asked.
"Robotics."
"Sounds about right." She said. "We should probably get going." Kate smiled and gestured her head in the general direction of your History class with Kate. "Don't worry about the test," Kate said as you two walked side by side. "You always do just fine." You shrugged her compliment off.
Kate noticed. "But I was thinking if you want..." You looked at Kate and noticed her fingers interlocking with one another. "Maybe you could come to my dorm to study some more. Besides, I still need help on the laws and how they changed once the Sokovian Accords were ratified."
You and Kate had always hung out in mutual gatherings and settings. You two were good friends, but you had never been to her dorm.
On top of that. Alone.
You suddenly felt very warm and wary of your every move.
"That sounds great!" You managed to say. "When were you thinking?"
Kate thought. If it were up to her, you'd come over tonight, but Kate wasn't sure what her roommate Cassie was doing. Plus, she and Clint had a hot new lead to follow up on. "Ummm, is it cool if I text you?"
You nodded. "Sounds great." You smiled widely and pushed the door to your History class open. Letting Kate walk in first. You and Kate walked to your seats and sat beside one another.
"Shit." You heard Kate mumble when she opened her bag. "You okay?" You asked. "Uh yeah.." She bit her lip. A habit you noticed that she only got when she was embarrassed. "What's wrong?" You asked when you tore your eyes away from her chewed-on pink lips.
Kate sighed when her lips parted. "I forgot my textbook. I thought I packed after Clint- Clint-on Clinton and I got back from Archery, but I guess I didn't." Kate didn't look your way.
She was now warm and aware of every move she made.
"Hey, I surprisingly remembered mine." You pulled yours out. "We can share." You moved it in between the two of you. "Really?" She charmingly lifted her eyebrows. "Really." You said.
Kate let out a little cheer and wrapped an arm around you. "You're a lifesaver!"
If only she knew.
Kate didn't remove her arm from around you as quick as she usually would have; instead, you could feel her hand slide up your muscles to your shoulder.
Kate had been noticing your muscle growth as of late but didn't know where it came from...
Eventually, Kate removed her touch from you.
Yet you still felt her.
"It's no big deal." You said about sharing the textbook. But you and Kate both knew that based on your actions recently, you remembering to bring your book or not falling asleep in class was a miracle.
This was Kate's first time forgetting a book, and she could sense Clint's disappointed sigh.
Kate smiled as she watched your fingers turn the corners of the page in the textbook. Her eyes lifted to your fingers, to your sweater, and up to your face. She watched your side profile as you silently read a paragraph to yourself. She only stopped when you looked her way and hid a smile when you pushed up your glasses. "What's up?" You quietly asked.
"Do you want to come to my archery practice tomorrow?" Kate whispered back.
Kate wasn't sure what you had going on in your life. You and her were close but not close, like with Peter, Ned, and MJ. So she never pushed.
Plus, she liked you and didn't want to ruin what you two might have.
But when you said, "Yeah! That sounds awesome!" Like a dork, Kate smiled.
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dividers by @/benkeibear
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spookyscaryskeletrans · 11 months
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my very own spider-sona uwu
this isnt the final version but im really happy with this drawing and it would've been a shame not to post it, so here i am
(their super hero name is spider-reader, for isekai related reasons)
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+additional character sheet. HEAVILY subject to change
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kirbyskisses · 10 months
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dear non-spanish speakers writing spiderverse fanfiction (or anything with spanglish),
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in spanglish you don’t switch by word, you switch by phrase.
it’s not:
“[first part of the sentence in english], [second part of the sentence in english], mi amor.”
“[full english sentence], querida.”
it’s:
“[first part of the sentence in english], [segunda parte de la frase en español], mi amor.”
-
also miles is boricua, miguel is mexican. they have two different accents and use different vocabulary for certain words.
also miles is “nyourican” - a puerto rican native to new york - while his mom is directly from the island, so there are differences there, too, because his spanish is more influence by new york english. 
here’s some good references that aren’t google translate (which usually pulls from spain, a country that speaks vastly differently from latin america)
SpanishDict
WordReference
here have some random videos on different slang/spanish accents:
Puerto Rico
Mexico (1) (2)
-
in spanish most words are gendered, so most feminine words end in a and masculine/gender neutral words end in o. adding ito/ita makes something cuter, smaller and more affectionate.
spanish nicknames that aren’t “mi amor”
“querido/a” - darling
“cariño” - dear (always masculine regardless, of who its being said to)
“mi princesa/príncipe” - my prince/princess
“mi rey/reina” - my king/queen
“papí/mamí” - can be used in any way; romantic, sexual, familial for one’s parent or child, or just platonically
“tesoro” - treasure
also spanish is a language that uses adjectives as terms of affection both cute ones and ones that might sound insensitive in english
gordo (fat), flaco (skinny), negro (black), blanco (white), linda (pretty), bella (beautiful), morena (brown skin), etc.
and like most languages that are not english, spanish has multiple ways of saying i love you.
“te amo” - romantic
“te quiero” - familial, platonic (although there’s nothing wrong with using it romantically)
see also:
te adoro - i adore you
te deseo - i want you
te necesito - i need you
 and, of course, they can vary regionally too.
please use this because i have read a lot of really well written things that take me out of it because the use of spanglish is terrible. don’t just go on your presumptions that spanish/spanglish works in the same way that english does.
buena suerte, gringos.
- signed your friendly neighborhood afro-latina
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ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader
Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.
Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3
When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.
It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.
Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.
Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.
A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.
You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.
Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.
~
“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.
“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.
“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.
“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.
They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.
“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.
“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.
You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.
You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.
They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.
You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.
“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?
“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.
“OW!”
~
Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?
The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.
Well, unless you were there.
“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.
“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.
“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.
“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.
Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.
For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.
There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.
“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.
“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.
“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.
“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.
Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.
There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.
He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.
It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.
~
“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.
“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.
Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.
“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”
“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.
You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.
“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.
“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”
“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.
“Please,” he mutters.
“What was that?”
“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.
“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.
“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.
“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.
“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.
“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.
In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.
With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.
And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.
“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask
“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.
“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.
“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.
“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.
“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.
~
It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.
Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.
Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.
“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.
She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.
“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.
“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”
You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.
“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.
“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.
And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.
~
People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.
It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.
“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.
“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.
“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”
Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.
Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.
“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”
~
“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.
“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.
Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.
“What makes you think so?”
“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.
“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.
Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.
“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.
“We’re actually married.”
The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.
Then, all hell breaks loose.
A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.
Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3
Part two out now!! Read it here.
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natashowlet · 11 months
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Miguel O’Hara icons
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wyvernest · 8 months
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mating szn
part 1 (part2)
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pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating
summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy
You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.
Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning. 
"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.
You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.
"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased. 
He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck. 
He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.
You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.
He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.
"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.
He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.
The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.
Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.
When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.
He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.
Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.
And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress. 
He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.
His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.
"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions. 
He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him. 
All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear. 
With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.
"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go. 
And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.
His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips. 
He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.
Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.
"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)
You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.
Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.
"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.
He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.
He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.
He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.
"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it. 
And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts. 
You're ovulating.
Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.
He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.
"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."
Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.
His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.
But you want to see more of how needy he is.
You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.
Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.
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divider by @cafekitsune
HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️
a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.
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beautysamour · 8 months
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miguel accidentally overstimulating himself not realizing that his breeding kink kicked in 🤲🧎‍♀️
overstimulation with miguel o’hara ❤︎
— a/n: oh my
warnings ゚𐦍༘⋆: some vulgar language, mentions of having kids during sex
“Mi—Miguel,” you gasp out, wrapping your arms around his neck as he fucks you into the mattress, “‘s—‘s too much? Ah—are you oh—okay?”
You shudder in unison as he pumps another load of his cum into your drenched pussy.
“I’m fi—fine,” he stutters as his dick twitches. It hurts—he’s sensitive—but it’s not enough. He hasn’t given you enough.
A broken mewl escapes you as your head hits the headboard, Miguel tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from slipping off his cock as his hips stutter through his thrusts.
His visions blurs as you clench around his dick—he was surprised he was still able to move.
He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.
You’re both covered in sweat, and cum, and saliva. You feel hot, the silk bedsheets Miguel bought does nothing to cool you down, and your head is spinning. Your heart pounds in your chest as your body tenses—you were about to cum again, and your pussy wanted to cry.
“Miguel,” you whimper, “‘m close, Miguel, ‘m close,” you whine. His dick deliciously rubs against your walls as he sticks his thumb into your mouth—your head hits the headboard.
“I know mami—me too.” Your head hits the headboard again, “Gotta fill you up again, don’t you want that? Gonna make you feel good, I promise mami, I promise.”
“Mig—“ he pushes his thumb down on your tongue.
“‘m gonna make you feel so good, mami,” he starts to babble, “Gonna feel so good.”
Somehow every movement he made was even more intense, you could feel every vein, every twitch, every—everything. He became more precise, every thrust ended with him hitting your g—spot, you were never sure if that was going to be the moment you came.
“Miguel—,” you babble, sucking his thumb. “‘m gonna cum, right there Miguel, I’m gonna—“
His thrusts became erratic, the feeling of your warm pussy engrains itself in his memory.
He’d definitely be going back to this memory.
“Wait for me mami, I’m almost there too,” he grabs one of your hands, bringing it close to his mouth, and he presses his lips against your wrist. “Gonna make you a mother, yeah?”
You bite his thumb.
He presses a hand against your stomach as the bed creaks, “Make me a father?”
His hips stutter as you moan around his thumb.
You avoid eye contact as he leans over you, the pure devotion in his eyes makes you feel tingles in your stomach—and make you feel even more of that in your pussy.
“Look at me when you come mami, pl—please. Need you too.”
You didn’t expect it to happen that quickly when you looked at him.
Miguel looks down at you with lust blown eyes, his hair drops down from his face, and his mouth hangs open—the hand holding your wrist shaking. He slowly thrusts into you as he came inside you—your own cum mixed with his leaking around his dick.
His chest goes up and down as he heavily breathes—fuck was he beautiful as always.
He dips his head pressing a quick sloppy kiss onto your lips, “You’re leaking.”
You laugh, “It’s your fault.”
You expect him to laugh, to take it as a joke and then pick you up to go take a relaxing bath and cuddle for the rest of night—but he doesn’t.
“Oh,” he purrs, “Well, I should fix my mistake, shouldn’t I?”
He drops your wrist and focuses on your left boob, he pinches your nipple—you moan softly.
You wince in unison when he starts to move his hips again, his free hand trailing down to your waist from your stomach, “Ha—have to make sure none of my cum goes to waste, right mami? Can’t risk you not getting pregnant.”
Tears weld in his eyes, your pussy hurts as you pulse around him. He lets out a weak breath, “You want me to cum in you again, right?”
Your head hits the headboard once more as he thrusts get stronger.
It hurts, you’re too sensitive, and you’re positive he is too—yet he’s right. You do want that, you want him.
With a broken, hoarse voice, you say “Yes.”
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aisaisaiss · 10 months
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MIGUEL whos wrapped around your pretty little finger.
he adores you, he would do anything for you. he loves you. and you knew it, he was smitten with you. no matter how sarcastic or how hard he was on the outside he would always break down those walls for you. his princesa, even if he thought he wasn’t obvious with it he was. the spider society could tell, everyone could tell.
“you’d better hope his wife comes and saves your asses” jessica said, sighing deeply. miles and gwen had fucked up big time, and there was practically no hope other than you coming to their rescue. “mhm you’d better start praying cus’ if she doesn't well uh, just hope you see tomorrow” peter whispered. “do you know what the hell you did?! do you know how much you jeopardized our mission?!” miguel seethed, irritably. "you." he turned and pointed his finger in miles's face. " i may have let you in our mission but that doesn't mean you can disobey orders." he seethed, his eyebrows furrowed. miles's could only hope and pray that she would show up.
"miguel? amor, i brought you lunch!" a bubbly voice snapped the group out of their train of thought. a sweet looking woman stood at the door, dressed in casual clothes. "what's going on?" she sighed looking at the group and miguel. "oh nothing don't worry" miguel said, awkwardly. "come here, i want to see you. i know that you just went on a mission lemme check you out" she said motioning him to come over to him. as he walked towards her, she mouthed to the group "go". and with that they scrambled off.
@AISAISAIS 2023, DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST.
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messylustt · 10 months
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Going without a bra in your spider suit because you only need to report to Miguel and then your changing so why bother? Completely forgetting that you have your nipples pierced, meaning Miguel can see the barbells and your nipples through the skin tight suit. He’s going feral: both because of the image of them and that someone else would have had to see your naked breasts in order to pierce them.
you were pierced where? — miguel o’hara ( nsfw ). oml—hfndkkkdkkem.
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miguel was busy, staying distracted with the nearing mission as he listened to lyla. but the moment you walked in, all suited up and ready, his hard gaze and body simultaneously tensed and widened. because what were wearing? your spider suit, yes. but it was what was poking through that caught miguel’s attention. his eyes grew fixated on your tits as you walked in alone, and oblivious. he quickly waved lyla away, jumping down and stepping closer to you.
“what are you wearing? or should I say…what aren’t you wearing?” miguel speaks slowly, and lowly. you glance down at yourself. he’s seeming to really focus in on the fact that your nipples look pierced — the metal bars poking through. you had chosen not to wear anything under your suit today. it was only going to be you and miguel. you glance back up at him. “what? it’s just you this mission.” you say, thinking it’s about the ‘no bra’ situation. but miguel isn’t focusing on the fact that anyone else could see you, because someone else has seen you.
he steps much closer, his gaze hardening again. “when did you get them pierced?” he asks, his teeth grinding. you look down again. “oh…” you drift off. “a few days ago.”
“a few days ago?” miguel reiterates harshly. “and you…what? didn’t think to tell me?”
“well i was gonna tell you. i am telling you. right now.” you smile, and miguel’s lips twitch in a snarl. “no no, you can’t just decide that.”
“what do you mean — ” but your words are dying off because miguel is now breathing over you. his towering position actually making you gulp. “who did it?” he asks.
and his almost calm tone is making your breathing increase. “uh…someone who does piercings…” you say, eyeing him. “look, miguel, it’s not that big of a de — ”
“who. did. them?” miguel interrupts, his red eyes nearly making you flinch. “i didn’t catch his name.” you mutter, moving to bypass miguel. “now, don’t we have a mission — ”
miguel’s hand is now tightly wrapped around your upper arm, halting your movement. “his?” he asks slowly, as you move to step away again, only earning miguel to yank you back into his chest, as he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “a guy pierced them?” he double checks the fact that is making his claws itch to sink into something. “a professional did.” you point out, grabbing his wrist to remove his hold.
when he doesn’t shift you instead decide to quickly lean up to place a quick kiss on his lips as a small distraction. that gives you a moment of looseness in his wrist, for you to take his hand away, but then miguel is slipping his hand to the back of your neck, drawing you back in for a more heated kiss. his lips drawing you even closer as he nearly snarls past your teeth, tongues clashing.
but then you’re drawing back and miguel has the urge to sink his fangs into your bottom lip, because why were you moving away?“miguel, we’re working.” you quietly say, darting your gaze around as if you’d see gaping spider-people. but miguel is leading you back, the empty office exactly that. empty. his hands are now purchased around your waist, pulling your lower body against his.
“are you sure you can’t give me a name?” miguel has started placing sloppy kisses along your jaw, as your back hits the wall. “hm?” he’d ruin the guy who touched you. he needed something to sink his claws into with all this pent up jealousy. “i told you…i didn’t catch it…it’s not like we grew close — ”
“but that’s exactly what you were.” miguel interrupts, grabbing part of your neck and jaw again as his breath hits your slightly parted lips. “…close. he was especially close. touching you.” his fangs are now visible with how much he spat the words. “that’s what they do, miguel.” you try to console.
“he stayed professional — ” he keeps cutting you off, mouth now up close and open against your own. “but they’re mine, cariño…mine to touch, mine to play with…” his clawed hand moved to trace over your spider suit covered nipples, feeling the metal bar, as you flinch a fraction.
“aw…” he coos. “they feel hard, cariño…” then he’s leaning towards your ear. “were they hard for him?” you shake your head. but miguel persists. “of course they were. i know how sensitive you can be. and by someone touching them, you would have started to feel…hot…down here…” he runs two claws down your stomach and over your pussy, making your hips shift.
“…isn’t that right?” your breathing is shallow, as he goes to rub experimentally through your suit, his lips now re-attaching to your skin, drawing the edge of your suit down to lick at your neck, making your pulse quicken. “next time you want help involving things like this…” his claw dragged back across your nipples. “…you’ll come to me.” he grabs your chin again, forcing you to agree. “won’t you?”
you quickly nod, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. miguel’s lips finally curve up in a smile. “but since he got to see you all flushed and turned on…i get to see you writhing and spread open under me…that’s sounds about right, doesn’t it?…yeah.” miguel moves your head in a nod, before his hand is dropping back to your throbbing pussy. “there’s a good girl…”
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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pleasured-ambrosia · 11 months
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Miguel O’Hara doesn’t have time for your snark.
It’s different when he throws a sassy remark. He’s the boss, who has to cope with babysitting hundreds of Spider-people in order to keep the multiverse in check.
So when you do mouth off, Miguel like to find other ways to occupy your mouth.
He grabs your shoulders and pushes you onto your knees, grasping your chin with his meaty hand. You feign a pout as you gaze up at him, but Miguel can see the lust clouding your vision. Maybe this is why you’re such a snarky little shit—because you hope for Miguel to notice you.
“Open,” he commands.
Wordlessly, you open your mouth. Already hard, Miguel’s cock twitches as he stares into your mouth. Fuck, you’re so good for him when you’re on your knees.
The patch of his suit that surrounds his cock evaporates, a special alteration that Miguel designed just for his time with you. His hardened cock looms over your face, twitching at the feeling of your hot breath.
“Now suck.”
Your plump lips wrap around his tip, your tongue darting across the underside of his shaft. Fuck, he forgot how warm your mouth is. It had been too long since he had you like this, obedient and eager.
Miguel places his hand atop your head, tugging you closer.
“Shhh, mí amor, breathe through your nose,” Miguel coos as you stifle a gag. “Good, that’s it. Take all of it. Nice and slow.”
Even as his cock stretches your mouth to its limits, as it bulges in your throat, you force the last of his shaft into your mouth. As your nose hits Miguel’s pubic bone, he tilts your head up with a smug grin.
“You look much nicer when your mouth’s busy with my cock instead of running your mouth, princesa.”
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loveforeren · 9 months
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Miguel and different sex positions pt.1 eheheh cowgirl.
Miguel absolutely love when you ride him. The feeling you moving on top on him makes him lean his head back, mouth open, and his hands on your hips.
You were on top of him as you hover yourself over his erect cock. No matter how many times you took him it always had the same feeling. That almost overbearing feeling of him stretching you out, and molding you around his cock. You slowly started to push down letting him slide inside you. You let out a gasp as his tip pushed its way into your needy cunt. You hear Miguel hiss as he grips your waist tightly.
"Shit. Just like that, Mami." Miguel said.
You continue to push down as you feel Miguel fill you up. The feeling of him stretching you out to die for. You put your hand on his chest to help you. Finally sitting all the way down on his cock you let out a moan.
"..You okay, Cariño?" He asked in a airy breath.
You nod and look up at him with teary eyes. He was so fucking big. You start to move slowly bringing yourself up and down on his dick slowly. His nails penetrate your skin and you let out a moan from the pain.
"Faster. Go faster." He said throwing his head back.
His wish was your command. You bring yourself down on his cock faster. The feeling of his shaft sliding inside of you was euphoric.
"Miguel-" You hissed out his name.
He came forward latching onto one of your sensitive buds. The other hand massaged your other breast. You clench around him tight and he lets out a groan causing a shiver to go down your back. His mouth detaches from your breast and he lets out an almost pornographic moan.
"Wanna get your pregnant.." he babbled mindlessly.
Miguel absolutely loved the feeling of your body squeezing him. He let out a grin as you throw your head back. The sight of you on top of him was almost enough to make him cum. He was ready to fill you up with every drop of his seed.
"Mami, want me to get you pregnant? Get you all nice and swollen with my kid?" He asked
"Yes! Yes, Miguel please." You moaned
You feel that knot in your stomach. That one telling you that you were about to cum. Miguel was now in control of your movements helping you move up and down on his cock.
"Miggy, I'm about to come" You choke out.
"Come f'me, Amor" He purred.
That was all it took as you came undone on Miguel's dick. The feeling of you clenching around his cock sent Miguel over the edge. He threw his head back as you milk him of every drop of sperm he had. His nails digged farther into your waist as you keep your hand on his chest. He swears you're going to be the death of him.
Moni notes ➳❥ yall I'm tryna write but I'm deadass a little sick. I've been sick for the past couple days..I have like 13 unfinished drafts. I think imma write another eren or Connie fic idk..
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cyberjam · 11 months
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ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆
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warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!
word count - 2.1k
main masterlist <3
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☆ . . . miles morales
I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.
If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.
Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.
He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)
Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.
He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3
"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."
☆ . . . gwen stacy
She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.
Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.
She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.
You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.
She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.
You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.
"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."
☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar
It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).
You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.
He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.
There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.
A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)
He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.
He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...
"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."
☆ . . . hobie brown
What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.
I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.
Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.
He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.
When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)
Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."
Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.
"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."
☆ . . . miguel o' hara
You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.
Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.
He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.
He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.
He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.
If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.
"Can I kiss you?"
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omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33
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buryustogether · 10 months
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imagine being fucked my miguel, your husband, and he’s doing things… different. not bad different. just different. come to think of it, he’s been acting completely off since he got home a few hours ago. but it all just feels too good to say anything, so you let him keep pounding into you.
you’re both so lost you don’t even hear the lock in the front door. the footsteps in the hall. see the man standing in the bedroom doorway - until you do.
it’s miguel - your miguel. the real miguel. shot through the stomach and crudely stitched up, but still alive and kicking - and watching his impostor fuck you into his own bed.
your mind can’t comprehend it.
his can’t either.
he’s delirious, lost too much blood to think properly. he approaches the bed, staring at the alternate version of himself, before he’s slowly sitting and reaching down to rub his thumb at your clit in that certain way that makes you see stars.
“she likes it like this.”
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intoxicated-chan · 11 months
Note
angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader
and then they make up yayayayay
Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…
Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!
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You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.
“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”
He nods.
“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
He nods again.
“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”
“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”
“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.
“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”
He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…
“But Mig-”
“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”
He didn’t mean it like that.
“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.
“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.
You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.
You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.
The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.
How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?
This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.
And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.
You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.
You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.
“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.
“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.
“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.
“Yeah.” You huff.
“And… how are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.
You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”
“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”
Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?
“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”
“Talk about romantic.”
“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”
“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”
“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.
“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”
“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.
“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”
“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.
You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”
“Bed.”
“(Y/n)-”
“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”
“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.
“You heard me.”
“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.
“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”
“(Y/n)-”
“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”
“I know.”
“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”
“I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”
You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”
“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.
“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”
He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.
“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”
“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.
“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”
“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.
“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”
“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”
You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.
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15K notes · View notes
127rkives · 9 months
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uhhhh idk if anyone has discussed this before but... miguel likes to eat pussy from the back!!!
like idk, every once in a while, his brain goes brrrr and something short circuits. idk chalk it up to stress but it's more like some feral, animalistic urge. he can’t really explain it. it’s almost as if someone flips a switch, his mind goes blank except for the thought of needing to be with you, under you, in you. he has to stop whatever he’s doing and go find you.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
and as soon as he makes it home to find you relaxed on the couch, he's flipping you over, contorting you face down ass up, and he’s nuzzling into your clothed pussy like a dog in fucking heat. when he’s finally spent just enough time shrouded in the scent of you, he's yanking your shorts off. he’s been at this for approximately 2 minutes but there's already a wet patch in the center of your panties. that sight makes his pupils dilate before going in for the kill. his claws come out to rip your panties to shreds right before he straight up nose dives into your pussy, and granted you can feel him, the action still catches you off guard enough for you to emit a loud gasp. it’s just too much too fast. “mig- ohhh!~”
“mmm... mmmf” miguel gets so much satisfaction from tasting you that he releases moans of his own. they would be bouncing around the room and intermingling with yours except right now he can't bring himself to pry his tongue from the slick walls of your cunt. 
“oh my gosh- miguel!”
hearing you raise your voice in alarm while saying his name is enough to make miguel pause for a second. you take the moment of reprieve to look over your shoulder— huffing and puffing— only to be stunned by miguel’s animalistic look. his curls are messily hanging near his eyes which are dark, yet spacey as if he’s on another planet. his lips are parted just enough to show a peek of his fangs as he breathes heavily through his mouth after suffocating himself with your pussy, and a gleaming mixture of his spit and your slick is smothered over half of his face and all the way down to his collarbone.
“m- miggy could you just give me a few seconds?” you ask. miguel tilts his head to the side and scoffs. a curt “no” is all you get before miguel locks his arms around your thighs to drag you back to his watering mouth. you don’t have claws like miguel but if you did the couch cushions would definitely be in shreds from the way you’re gripping them. 
the wet slurps of miguel’s tongue lapping at your cunt are soon paired with two of his thick fingers easily slipping in thanks to your arousal. he scissors them for a moment before adding a third. the speed he uses to pump them in and out and the feeling of his slightly calloused fingers against your gummy walls leaves you floating in the clouds. you’re brought crashing back down, however, when a deep groan from miguel sends sparks up your spine. soon enough you feel pressure building at the bottom of your stomach, only it doesn’t feel like it usually does. in a fit of panic you try to drag yourself out of miguel’s grip.
“ohhh my go- miggy!” it’s all you can do to let out little slurred calls of his name, but it doesn’t matter. miguel’s not stopping until he’s satisfied. your escape attempts are useless, but the wiggling is enough to piss him off.
“querida. don’t move so much. be good.” but you can’t be still. the tingly feeling in your tummy is growing and all you can do let out breathy moans as you thrash around in ecstacy.
“ahh- i can- can’t help it!”
all of your moving loosened miguel’s grip too much for his liking. in less than a second, he's yanking you back towards his mouth and hoisting your hips just high enough to wrap his lips around your cute little clit. 
one hard suck is all it takes before you’re squealing at the top of your lungs. a scream of “miguel!~” is the only thing leaving your lips while your vision goes white and your breathing stops for a second. miguel is unrelenting behind you, switching to messily swiping his thumb across your clit and shoving his tongue back into your pulsating cunt in an attempt to catch every last drop squirting in to his mouth. 
even when your arms give out beneath you and you faceplant into the couch miguel is still lapping at your outer lips like he’s been saved after being stranded in the desert for a year.
and like that, it’s like the switch in his brain flips again. he smooths his hands up and down your trembling thighs and scatters kisses in a path up your back to the nape of your neck. “you okay, cariño?” a weak “mhm” is all you can muster up as you turn your head to flash miguel a floaty smirk. he smiles and chuckles, recognizing the foggy look in your eyes. covered in a sheen of sweat and high off the feeling of him is just one of the times miguel thinks you look the most beautiful.
after ghosting his hands across your skin and giving you a few minutes to calm down, miguel goes to gently move you to his lap. he buries his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling all of you. with the little strength you have, you wiggle around in his lap attempting to get comfortable but something is in the way- 
“ohh~” miguel’s breath is hot on your neck as he groans into it. his fangs graze your skin, his hands grasp onto your hips for dear life and oh...
someone flipped the damn switch again...
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wyvernest · 8 months
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mating szn
PART 2‼️ (part 1)
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pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: horny miguel, smut, fluff, dryhumping, unprotected p-i-v, breeding kink, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating, descriptions of oral sex (f!receiving), rough sex
summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy
Stumbling and yelping in sync with his heavy footsteps catching up fast, you reach the first floor.
Before you get to offer yourself a fraction of a second to decide your next move, the hallway carpet curls up under your feet, slipping behind as your arms instinctively shoot forward for you to catch yourself.
Bringing one knee to your chest, you're prepared to launch yourself forward like an olympic runner. 
Too bad.
Miguel's broad hands grip your waist from behind, once again sending jolts of adrenaline throughout your entire system.
You scream in delight through playful giggles, calling out his name breathlessly and maliciously arching into his hold. 
You're getting wetter by the second seeing just how horny he is.
He pushes you down, forcing you on both knees. The deep pants from the chase quickly turn into something else as you feel his weight on your back, feel him get on one knee behind you. 
His grip on your waist tightens. He brings his crotch up to your ass, grinding his erection up and down your clothed slit.
His hips roll slowly, rubbing the thick shaft of his hard-on lazily and mindlessly, the motions shallow and enticing.
"Ah, come on, baby", He leans forward, nuzzling his face into your soft hair, basking in the slightly-sweet, flowery scent of your shampoo. With a messy kiss to your neck, he speaks, raspy with need,
"Can't help it." More wet, sloppy kisses to your neck, more thrusts of his rock hard cock against your drenched folds through the thin material of your panties and his boxers. "I need, I need - ugh" the words fail to form as his hot breath hits the back of your neck, followed by more kisses and bites.
He brings a hand to the meat of your right thigh, grabbing harshly. He then lets it slip up over the mound of your pussy, cupping you and pushing two fingers over your folds, still stopped by your panties. You shiver at the feeling of his huge, warm palm touching your core so pervertedly, so desperately. 
He can feel the wet patch on the cotton fabric, proof of reciprocated desire.
His senses once again catch the unmistakable, ever so dearly intoxicating aroma of you, so ready for him. His eyes roll back with a silent inhale, his bare chest rising and falling on your back. 
He wants nothing more than to bury his face between your plush thighs and lap at your essence, pussy-drunk and keen on overstimulating you; licking and sucking at your clit, circling around your damp folds with his tongue until you're pushing him away, begging for a break, swollen and exhausted.
He can almost imagine you, tangling your fingers in his hair, pushing and pulling, either smothering him into your velvety cunt, needy and on the edge, or trying to escape his grip. He'd only hold you down, burly arms curling around your legs, just so he could make you come again, to feel you pulsate, feel your juices coat his mouth.
But with the way his cock twitches, begging for friction and stimulation, he can't think straight. 
He feels an overwhelming urge to shove himself inside you and fill you with his cum, to see his cock rearranging your guts through your belly, to empty his balls in your womb and watch his seed dribble out of you, and push it back in with his still hard cock, hold it there so that it takes.
His warm, eager hands travel down to your panties, and in their loose hold as he attempts to drag them down your thighs, you once again snake away, giggling with a sardonic grin that doesn't do well in covering up the desire evident on your features.
"¡Mierda!" He grunts, and you enter the bedroom, reaching the balcony door and turning around. You catch the sight of Miguel clawing at the door frame to take the turn and come in faster. 
Before you can react and take your eyes off the enormous bulge in his shorts, the defined shape of his dick protruding erotically against the material, he pounces, caging you against the wall, distancing your legs far apart with one knee.
His palms slip to your sides, not missing the savory opportunity to settle on the sides of your tits. He fondles their softness with the heels of his hands, pushing them together, pressing his whole body into yours.
You let out a barely audible moan as he corners you, almost squeezing you between his muscular frame and the wall behind you, and he almost loses all that's left of his sanity.
He kisses your temple, full of yearning. Although, he's instantly reminded that his scent has worn off of your feverish skin.  
"Por favor,-" a deep groan vibrates in his chest against you, making you quiver.
"He estado cachondo todo el día," (I've been horny all day). He holds you tight against him, your tender breasts pressed flush against his pecs.
"No podía pensar en nada más que en ti" (I couldn't think of anything but you.) 
You finally give in and offer a smidge of relief, sliding your hand down to grab his clothed hard cock. The second he feels you palm him tentatively, he reflexively starts rubbing himself on your hand like an animal in heat, groaning ruggedly.
"That's it." He rasps, fed up, and it's almost a threat.
He slowly walks over to the bed with you secure in his arms, but when his knees hit the frame, he doesn't drop you like he normally would. No. He's not giving you another chance to flee. A part of him loves the cat-and-mouse game he knows you enjoy so much, but the other part can already feel his fat, full balls turning blue.
Placing you down, hands still gripping your waist viciously, he gets on the bed, the mattress sinking down under his weight.
You feel your clit throb as he traps you with his thighs, taking your shirt off. His touch leaves goosebumps over your silky skin.
Under your hazy gaze fixed on his movements, he hovers above you, skipping the usual looks of adoration. Not that the sentiments were gone by any means, but he was far too needy to wait any longer.
The kiss he suffocates you with is fiery, full of all the pent up tension he had to endure.
As his mouth moves against yours eagerly and messily, you notice how it lacks his characteristic expert, methodical approach.
His lips were just as soft as ever, but devoured your every moan and breath with a fervor unfamiliar. His tongue slips past the liplock, dominating you in no time, and right when you start to adjust to the new strategy, catching up with his movements, he parts from you, breaking the kiss and sucking your soul out of you with it.
He continues his attack down your throat, biting and licking hurriedly, marking you as his. 
Groaning freely, he reaches your breasts, taking them in his mouth, one after the other. His hands squeeze, roam and play with them, making you bite down on your lower lip and whine beneath him.
He suckles on the perked nipples, releasing them to catch his breath with another gravel moan. When he's done, your chest is coated in his spit; fresh, hickies already blooming over your tender tits.
The weight of his cock settles on your thigh, pressed snugly and oozing precum through a dark spot on his boxers. 
Your own hands attach to his silky dark hair, caressing and brushing wild strands away from his forehead, clinging and pulling occasionally when he latches onto your breasts again after taking a few deep breaths.
Sliding lower, impatiently licking and biting over the line of your stomach, he finally gets to your panties. 
He kisses the soft lips of your pussy through the fabric, the scent of your arousal driving him mad. He groans again, words slurred through the desperate, obscene licks, "Eres.." He extends his tongue, lapping up at the dampness, "..tan bonita." (You're so pretty)
Your heels are digging into his shoulder blades as you squirm and moan under his sultry touch. Through half lidded eyes, you see him bare his pearl white fangs, as if prepared to sink them into your sensitive skin.
You gasp, a little above a moan.
"Miguel! Don't - ah" You whimper as he grits his teeth around the elastic of your panties, tearing them in two with the help of one hand.
He grabs your thighs, kneeling between your legs.
Shoving his hand in his shorts, he takes his dick out, its mushroom head glistening mauve. He begins to stroke it more violently than you thought he would've taken pleasure in.
Mouth agape, pupils blown wide, he looks downright primal. Solely focused on claiming you, on stuffing you full of his potent seed, of draining his fat balls in your warm cunt until you're begging him to stop through ablaze overstimulation.
Cock in hand, incontestably massive encompassed by his proportionally large fingers, he slaps the hard, angered, heavy shaft on your tender folds, groaning at the wet sound of flesh against flesh. He rubs it over your lips, drenching it in your juices.
You notice his thighs flex, already insanely sensitive. When he eases the head in, he moans, rough and low in his throat, brows creased in pained pleasure. You whimper his name, legs quivering faintly on each side of his waist.
Using his weight to press your body down into the mattress, forcing you onto him, he slides his arms underneath your knees, throwing them over his shoulders and bending you in half.
A shiver bursts through you at the sensation. You clench around him, forcing a strangled groan out of his throat.
He braces himself down on his forearms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. Pushing in, the bulbous tip of his cock kisses your cervix as he bottoms out and gets straight to a tireless pace, not giving you the ritualistic second to adjust. 
The bed creaks and squeaks with the way he's throwing himself into your cunt, pounding you into the soft cushions relentlessly. 
His hips gyrate roughly against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you, dipping his meaty cock in your juices with an obscene, wet squelching, finishing each delicious swing with a quicker entry, more forceful and animalistic. His pubes brush harshly against your engorged, swollen clit, sending jolts of electricity through your core.
Skipping the tension, the build-up of speed, he drives straight to the euphoric rhythm of a release chase. His balls slap onto your ass, his pelvic bone nearly delivering bruising slams against your own.
“Ugh, oh Miguel-,” you gasp for more air, struggling to form a coherent sentence through delirium, your breaths and moans rhythmically timed by his rough thrusts. 
You curl your arms around his neck, nails digging into his back and shoulders. He looks down at you, watching your breasts bounce in his face, and starts rutting harder into you, every ridge and vein of his fat cock brushing against your sensitive spots perfectly.
Each time you call for him, it's a melody, a rapturous chant that has him on his knees, his mind in cobwebs, his heart aching; and for the time being, his cock throbbing as well.
"I'm - ah! Cumming!Ugh, M- Mig- uel- !" You moan sharply, your orgasm rapidly threatening to burst like fireworks.
He frowns, panting, shallow breaths hot over your face. You convulse under his massive body, arching your back, squeezing your tits flush against his feverish skin. 
He feels your pussy flutter around his cock, milking him and sucking him in. He groans loudly in your ear, pace faltering ever so slightly. The headboard of the bed keeps slamming against the room wall, spurring your orgasm on with the reminder of the force of the man above you.
With one final thrust, his whole body tenses. He pushes forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, dumping his load in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips. You feel his dick pulsate inside you with each new spurt of cum, the remnants of your own climax making you clench around him reflexively.
He stills, relief washing over him. Meeting your gaze, he watches how you come back to your senses, the blinding lust replaced by love and admiration.
He grabs your waist and pulls you down with him, laying you on his chest, his softening cock still inside you.
You close your eyes, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Dinner long forgotten.
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a/n: did my best here. the tags deadass took longer than the writing
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