sorry that this is being sent so early in the morning but Grumpy Bf & sunshine gf with Anthony Bridgerton sounds so cute!
Oddest Couple in the Ton
Buy me a coffee :)
You and Anthony Bridgerton were quite commonly known as the oddest couple in the Ton. Whilst, looks-wise, you were a perfect match, personality-wise, you couldnāt be more opposite. You were like the literal sunshine, always having a smile on your face and happy to talk to anyone whereas, your boyfriend hardly ever had a smile for anyone but you. And if the two of you were out, heād try to avoid as many people as possible, actively trying to leave the second someone approached the pair of you.
Take now for instance, you two were taking a walk around the Ton together whilst the weather was nice, your arm linked in his as you pressed close together, talking in a tone that only the other could hear. Any onlooker would see a couple that are clearly in love, in their own little bubble and did not want to be disturbed. However, the Featheringtonās were hardly just any onlooker.
Portia Featherinton stopped directly in front of you both, with Phillipa and Prudence on either side of her. The moment you came to a halt, you couldnāt stop the amused smile that grew on your lips when you heard Anthonyās impatient sigh.
āPortia!ā you exclaimed, smiling broadly at the woman, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek before being pulled back my Anthonyās arm wrapping around your waist. āHow are you? We havenāt seen you in a while.ā
āIām just fine, dear,ā she replied in a warm tone that you could tell was hiding an undertone of contempt. It wasnāt a secret that Portia was bitter at the fact you were the one Anthony had fallen for; she had been hoping that he was going to fall for one of her daughters, wanting nothing more than to have an in with one of the most prestigious families in the entire Ton. However, despite knowing the hard feelings the older woman may hold towards you, you tried to not let that bother you. āJust been busy trying to marry these two off,ā she gave a false laugh that had Phillipa and Prudence squirming at her sides, āhow is the wedding planning going?ā
āItās going rather well, thank you,ā Anthony piped in dryly, tightening his hold on your waist. You could feel in his body language next to you that he was getting ready to move you both along, already having had enough of the mindless chatter. āThough we really should get back to it, we only popped out for a bit of fresh air. Have a good day.ā His tone of voice giving no room for argument.
You gave an apologetic smile to the three woman and promised that you would catch up with them another time as Anthony practically dragged you away. Once you were out of earshot, you began to laugh, slapping Anthonyās chest lightly. āAnthony, there was no need for that,ā you said, amusement colouring your voice as you looked at him, his frown perpetually marked on his brow.
āTheyāre insufferable,ā he replied bluntly as you walked up the steps to your home.
āThat may be, but it still wouldnāt hurt to smile once in a while,ā you teased.
Anthony turned to face you, giving you a smile that was reserved for you and you only; it was a smile that you adored because it was just for you. āIs that better?ā he asked.
You smiled softly at him, reaching up to press a gentle kiss to his lips and running your hand lightly down his jaw. āMuch better.ā
Please be patient with me. I have over 27k unread notifications rn so it will take a bit to catch up. (That's what I get for running three side blogs then dropping off the face of the earth for a month :P) Have a blessed day!
(My AO3, for those of you that prefer to read there)
- Rigor Mortis - college roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader
Series Masterlist
summary: Relationships end. People die. You move on, and Miguel does too.
warnings: angst, slow burn, smut, friends with benefits, mentions of depression, child death (not explicit), grief. 18+
- Show me where it hurts - Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader
part 1, part 2
summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.
warnings: part 1 is just fluff and angst, eventual smut for part 2: breeding kink, cum play, animalistic behaviour (not quite ABO), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise and degradationĀ 18+
S m u t. P in v, dirty talk, Miguel being mean? Cream pie, cum eating. Jfc.
Minors DNI. I'm warning you š¤
It's not that he hated you.
Miguel O'Hara could never hate you. You just annoyed him to no end. Pushed his buttons. Teased him.
"Miguelitoooo," you'd sing in that stupid tone, "you need to relax. You brood too much. Such a broody man, hmm?"
Miguelito.
The goddamn nickname drove him up the wall, though at this point he wasn't too sure if it was irritation, or the lust that's been grabbing hold of his cock lately. What was it about you that had his head spinning with a feral need to sink his teeth into your flesh? To shove his cock so deep inside you you'd be rendered speechless for once?
Fuck, you were annoying. While he was a man of few words, you spoke as if on a fucking time limit, spewing nonsense every chance you could get. Everytime he looked at you it was a rush of emotion, and he didn't know whether to punch something or grab you by the shoulders and shut you the fuck up himself with his lips.
He decided on the latter.
You sauntered into his private headquarters in that tight little suit of yours, already running your mouth a mile a minute about...something. It might have been important, but Miguel wasn't listening, too busy watching the way your hips swayed.
"Miguelito, are you listening? Or are you too busy brooding as usual?" You were looking down at your watch, pressing on a few buttons distractedly, "Honestly, I don't know how you became the brains of this operation."
You stood in front of him, such a little thing compared to his massive size, your eyes still on your watch. "Have you been ignoring Lyla?"
"I put her on do not disturb."
You snorted, finally bringing your eyes to his intimidating ones, "Oh, so I guess I'm disturbing you too, huh?"
"Always." With a grunt, Miguel snatched you by the waist, losing his patience completely. You gasped, surprised by his actions, but you smiled knowingly, looking up at him with doe-like eyes. Finally.
"A first date would be nice, Miguelito-"
"Shut up." He growled, baring his glistening fangs. "CƔllate, por Dios."
He wasted no time, immediately surging forward to capture your lips, silencing you efficiently. It was a hungry kiss, sloppy, more tongues than anything else. He pulled moan after moan from you, stripping you both down in a matter of seconds before nipping at the delicate skin of your neck and shoulders.
Miguel had you up against the wall, his brute strength holding you up with ease. You quickly wrapped your legs around his hips, eyes rolling as he slid his large cock over your slippery folds.
"M-miguel," his name fell from your mouth beautifully as you held on to his broad shoulders for dear life, "Miguel, p-please."
"When are you gonna learn to shut up, hm?" He groaned, his arousal igniting from the obscene sounds of your slick cunt coating the underside of his length, "when are you gonna learn to keep your mouth shut for five seconds?" You were cock drunk already, mouth hanging open and tears threatening to fall from your pretty eyes.
"I-"
"CƔllate, hermosa, just shut up and take this cock," Miguel muttered over your lips, lining his cock up carefully before nudging your pussy open with the fat head of his dick. You choked, tears finally bursting from your eyes, dampening both your faces as he held you close. Your cunt clamped down on his cock with every inch he pushed in, causing you to cry out.
"Shh, I got you, just let me in," he cooed in the most gentle way he'd ever been with you, "I know you can take this cock, mhm, asĆ, just like that, open that pretty pussy up for me."
You moaned whorishly, your head falling back against the wall with a thump as Miguel began a merciless pace, immediately reaching the place where you needed him the most.
"Ohhh fuck, Miguel," you cried, your juices coating his thighs with every stroke of his cock as he pounded and pounded and pounded into you, "you're so d-deep." More juices leaked from your cunt, giving Miguel easier access into your slick channel.
"Quiet hermosa," he heaved, holding you tight against his merciless hips while clamping a large hand over your mouth, "don't want the others to know how good I'm fucking you, ehh?" The only sounds heard in the room were your muffled cries, his grunts, and his balls slapping against your ass as his cock slipped in and out of you.
You wanted to say something, anything really, to shove him off his high horse, but you couldn't, too far up in cloud nine to do anything but drool all over his palm and let his thick cock kiss your cervix repeatedly, bruisingly, deliciously.
"Asi, hermosa," Miguel sticks out his tongue, lapping at the salty tears streaking your cheeks, "calladita se ve mƔs bonita, hm?" He knew you were close, he felt it in the way your pussy tightened on his cock. He kept ramming his hips into you, grunting with every stroke.
"So fucking tight," he groaned, dropping his head on your shoulder, "I imagined this so many times, stuffing you with my cock, but fuck, who knew it'd be like this?"
"M-miguel, please," you whined, ripping his hand away from your mouth, "p-please."
He pierced his fangs into your neck, and that was when the dam broke. You gushed all over his cock, eyes rolling and mouth open as you silently came. Your pussy spasmed, fluttering over Miguel's cock as he lapped up the blood beading from the tiny wound he inflicted.
"That's it," he cooed, holding you tightly in his arms as you shuddered, "that's my girl." His strokes were sloppy now, too lost in your delicious wet heat to be as precise. After a few more thrusts, he buried his head in your neck again, releasing a growl from the very pits of his stomach, deep and aggressive, as he pumped his seed inside you.
Miguel held you for a moment, the both of you catching your breath. You were like a ragdoll over him, and he chuckled, nuzzling you with his nose. He released you, letting his cock slip out. His cum ran down your leg, white and hot as he gently set you on the ground. He hummed, taking two of his large fingers and scooping up some of the mess he made between your legs before smearing it over your lips.
"Open." He commanded, and you obediently did as told, opening your mouth and curling your tongue around his digits, savoring the taste of your combined juices with lidded eyes. You moaned at the tangy taste, your hands flying to skim down the length of his chiseled abdomen.
Miguel watched you, caging you in with one arm against the wall, mesmerized at how your mouth worked over his fingers.
You looked absolutely fucked out, skin flushed, hair a mess, but most of all, quiet.
ā EL TRATO (THE DEAL) miguel oāhara x fem!reader
pt one pt two pt three pt four pt five pt six pt seven pt eight
pt nine (finale) a lot of words
ā miguelās hand raises toā¦what? you donāt know, because the spider societyās alarm bell is ringing. mayhem, fire, fightsā¦masked men. you only want to help. when miguel confronts you about your āhelpā clearly displaying anger and wellā¦worry, something unexpected happensā¦you both getting as close as you did beforeā¦maybe closer?
contains: violence + blood + injuries; making out; suggestive content; my god whew
Youāre still staring at Miguel, staying close. Closer than you probably should be. And just as his hand reaches up toā¦to what? What was he going to do?
Because now the alarms are sounding. Followed by the cries of spider-people. You quickly whip your head to the door. And at first Miguel doesnāt look away from you. As if the word āemergencyā isnāt registering in his brain. No. He keeps his eyes on you, his lifted hand having to drop away as you rush to the door.
Miguel clenched his jaw, cursing the whole idea of having an āemergency bellā.
Youāve reached the door and then the hallway seeing mayhem. Everyone is running (or more so webbing) around, as a fire had started in the centre.
Miguel is soon joining you, just as you spot Miles and Hobie running up. āThere you are, mate.ā Hobie sighs in relief, grabbing your shoulders as he goes to move you.
āWh-ā You look around. āWhatās going on?ā
Miguel narrows his eyes on Hobieās hands. He knows nowās really not the time to feel petty, but part of him wants to break his ringed fingers. Hobie moves you with him further down the hallway. āIf they recognise ya, theyāll wanna kill ya, luv. So, letās maybe goā¦ay?ā
Your eyes widen. āKill?! What? Why?ā
Miles is hot on both your heels. Miguel not far behind him. Then Miguel notices Miles, brows slightly furrowing. āWhy are you here?ā He asks, making Miles glance back.
āUhā¦I was invited.ā He says slowly.
āUh huh.ā He eyed the kid. āBy who? Gwen?ā
Miles gulps at the look Miguel is giving him. āYeahā¦ā
āMm.ā Miguel hums, looking distasteful as he walks past Miles, catching up to you and Hobie. āNow weāre letting anyone in?ā He mutters to himself with a small scoff.
āHobie, what happened?ā You ask, as he continues to move you, his grip staying on your shoulders. He brings you to the tech room, it appearing empty. You look behind you at the way you came. āI didnāt know you could get here through there.ā You mutter.
āLyla.ā You hear Miguel say, her appearing by his shoulder. āWhat is this?ā Though the look Miguel is displaying makes you feel as though he already knows.
āAn attack on HQ.ā Lyla says, beginning to tap away at her little screens.
āOkay, there are way too many of them.ā You hear Pav say, running into the room.
āWe held them off as much as we could.ā Gwen is close behind. āBut their strong. Like freaky strong.ā
āY/n!ā Pav exclaims, bringing you in for a hug.
āOhāā You werenāt expecting the hug, everything happening so fast, as you slowly pat his back.
āWhere were you?ā He sounds concerned.
āI was justā¦ā you drift off, licking your lips. āGwen, whose really strong?ā You quickly look to her.
āYou remember the men who attacked last time? The oneās with the masks?ā Gwen asks, to which you slowly nod, catching on.
āTheyāre back?ā You ask. Gwen nods.
āBut they look different.ā Gwenās saysāher having seen the ones who attacked you and the tech room when they were in pools of their own blood, curtesy of Miguel. āTheyāreā¦ā
āBigger.ā You mutter, picturing the masked men that were in Milesā universe. āBetter suits? Strangely taller?ā You ask her.
āYeahā¦ā
āTheyāve upgraded.ā You mutter.
āWhich means they arenāt here for a tiny thief job.ā Miguel says, walking past you all to one of the only computers that didnāt get smashed. He pauses though, licking his teeth, as he mutters rather quietly. āDoes anyone know the password?ā
You hold back your amused smile, as you walk up to the computer. You lean down, tapping at the keyboard. The screen glitches a little, but for the most part it works.
āYouāre looking for the security cameras right?ā You ask Miguel, still staring at the screen. Lyla was clearly too busy to compute it, so you tap at more keys, bringing up roughly twenty different security camera images.
You zoom in on the middle three, displaying the fire and the masked men. Miguel leans over the desk beside you, staring at the screen. āThey started the fire by smashing the tech there.ā You point to a far spot on the screen, noticing the destroyed screens and machines.
Everyone had begun to surround the computer. āWhy do they want to destroy tech?ā Pav ask, as you shift your gaze to Miguel.
His gaze is focused on the screen, and more specifically on one specific āmasked manā . You narrowed your gaze on him. Where had he gone earlier? Has he met this guy? How does he recognise him? They all look the same to you.
Green wovenānow metalāsuits, but still those handmade masksā¦except now with added metal elements scattered randomly. āMiguel.ā You say, making him shift his gaze to you.
You tilt your head, silently communicating that you know somethings up. The raise of your brows asks him why he isnāt voicing anything.
Miguelās teeth are grinding as he stares at you, silently communicating back. You narrow your eyes upon understanding his expression as one showing heās not going to voice anything. If he doesnāt have to anyway.
Hobie stares at you two for a moment, blinking. āCan you two read each others minds now? Is that what weāve been missinā?ā
You shift your gaze to Hobie, whoās standing, arms crossed. Then a rather loud scream makes all your heads whip to the computer. A masked man is holding up a spider-person by the throat. But what makes you want to puke is the way his claw is beginning to stab into the spiders chest and running down, tearing skin and other bodily flesh.
Hobie, Gwen, Pav, and Miles are quick, rushing out of the room and assumably to the lobby, where the guyās screams are easily heard. Other spider-people are trying to fight back, but the masked men seem to be knocking them down a little too easily. How are they doing that so easily?
You swiftly turn your gaze to the screen, eyes darting, as your chest heaved. āOne of them took it, Miguel.ā Lyla says, making you shift your gaze to him.
Heās moving away, most likely to get to the action to help as well. He meets your gaze. āDonāt you dare move.ā He warns, before heās slipping through the secret entry.
What did Lyla say? One of the masked men took what? You look back to the computer, wincing every time a spider-person got hit. Hard. You take note of one guy, his hits extra painful to watchāthe one Miguel was staring at. You wanted to help. You wished you could help.
Then you hear the shuffle of metal making you spin. But your heart slows upon seeing Peter and Mayday. Waitā¦mayday?!
You rush forward, seeing Peterās frantic expression. āY/n, Thank god. I didnātāI didnāt know what to do.ā He gesturing to Mayday.
āPeter why is she here?!ā Youāre extremely worried.
āI didnāt know an attack was gonna happen! I would have left her home.ā Heās looking behind him, clearly knowing he has to help, but still holding tightly onto an unbothered, babbling Mayday.
You quickly grab her, pulling her into your arms. āGo.ā You say. āThey need you out there. Go.ā
Peter looks hesitant, and you understand why. āIāll hide.ā You say, knowing heās skeptical because youāre wellā¦human and could barely fight back against those men. Especially if spider variants are getting knocked out.
āThey wonāt find me. They wonāt find her.ā You hold Mayday close to you, as she rests her head on your shoulder, her smile still present.
Then Peter is nodding. He trusts you. He knows youāre not one to be stupid. āGo.ā You say again, and he moves, rushing out towards the action.
Your heart is beating on overdrive. Holding Mayday tightly, you turned back to the screen. None of your friends were knocked out, injured orā¦dead. But just as you go to find somewhere to hideāas you had promised, you noticed something.
A small machine, with a switch, itās almost unseeable through the screen, but you catch it. That isnāt the spider-societyās tech. Thatās from the masked men.
No. It suddenly clicks. Why all the spider-people were getting knocked out easy, why they could never sense when a masked man was l close. It was as if someone switched off their spider-sense and strength.
You felt Mayday lean away, using her own spider webs to attach to a farther desk, yanking you along the ground. āMayday.ā You hold her back. Now was not the time. Why did Peter give her her own webs?
You rip the web, pulling her back. āMayday.ā You say making your look at you, hair curling around her face. āYou have to stay still. Okay? Just stay in my arms. Then how bout we play a game after?ā
Her face lights up. Youād played these games with her, the main two being learning fun handshakes, and the other was hide and seek. āAlright?ā You ask gently. She excitedly jumps in your arms. āYou gotta stay still, though.ā She stills, wrapping her arms around your neck.
You sigh, turning back to the screen. You can spot Gwen looking confused, clearly feeling the effects of not having a spider-sense. Then you spot Miguel. He seems unaffected by the change, noticing the masked men a lot quicker than the other spider people. Then you shift your gaze back to the switch.
The spider variants didnāt know. Shit, shit, shit. You had said youād hide, to keep Mayday safe. But you canāt just doā¦nothing. Then you decide something incredibly stupid, like beyond a seeable level of stupid that could turn out terribly.
But you had to try. Because they werenāt winning out there. You pull Mayday away, making sure she caught your gaze. āOkay, Maydayā¦weāre gonna a play a game now. Howās that?ā
She nods quickly, clapping her hands. āAlrightā¦you remember hide and seek?ā
She again nods at you, slightly playing with your hair. āIām gonna count. And youāre gonna hide. Somewhere good. Really good.ā
She begins to try and get out for yours arms, eager to play. āMayday. Find somewhere really good.ā Sheād always been very good at choosing a hard hiding place. It always took you forever to find her. And you were counting on that.
Then you reluctantly let her go. You wouldnāt be long. You wouldnāt be. āOneā¦ā you pretend to cover your eyes, as you watch her waddle away through the cracks between your fingers.
You were stressed. This plan couldnāt go wrong. You wouldnāt let it. āTwoā¦ā
You were gonna reach that switch. āThreeā¦ā
And now you canāt see Mayday, knowing what direction she ran in, and roughly where she had hid, so that you could rush back to her. You had to be quick.
You ran towards the secret exit, grabbing a loose pipe. Youād rather go out there with a weapon. Loud sounds reach your eardrums when you made it outside the room, but you continued to run.
You couldnāt slow, or take your time. You rushed past spiders, thankful none are noticing you. Just stay unnoticedāyou keep repeating to yourself. You reached the middle of the mayhem. And god was it hectic.
You couldnāt let Peter see you. You couldnāt let Miguel see you. You couldnāt let any of them see you. Itās as if you never came here. You ran, skirting past broken tables and machines.
Everything felt hot, the fire still partially there. You held back a scream as a tumbling, fighting duo nearly barrelled into youāit managed to knock away your pipe, but you couldnāt stop to dwell. The switch, the switch, the switch.
You slid to your knees, rushing under a table. Youāve almost gotten punched, and youāre sure a cut is bleeding. But you run, you can now see the switch, and also your friends. They look terrible.
You grit your teeth moving quicker. Youāre so close. And just as you think relief is near, a body hits you, knocking you down. You wince, looking up to see a masked man. He tilts his head, blood coating his entire claw along with his suit.
You shuffle back along the floor, trying to get to your feet. But his boot comes down onto your chest, making you wheeze. āArenāt you that chick who got away?ā
āDifferent chick.ā You wheeze out, scrabbling to get his foot off you.
āNah, I remember the poster they put up in the lab. Your face is recognisable.ā He presses harder against your chest. Your hand scrambles to the side, against the dirty floor. Find something. Anything.
Your hand finally clasps around a loose peice of metal. You tighten your hold, the sharpness cutting your palm. You swing your arm across, stabbing it into the guyās calf.
It goes in deep, resulting in him lessening his boots hold. You manage to roll away, swiftly getting to your feet. He goes to lunge for you again, but your arm shoots out in a punch, right across his face. He stumbles slightly back.
But you seem to be more hurt then him. āMother fuāā you hiss, holding your now bruised knuckles. āShitā¦why did I do that?ā You mutter to yourself.
But you try not to dwell on the pain as you run past him and the others, finally reaching the switch. One hand is bloody while the other is bruised and youāve never felt more relieved. You push the switch, a small whirring sound reaching your ears.
Then suddenly you catch sight of all the spider-peopleās spider-senses turning back on, practically animated. But your relieved smile drops as practically all the masked men shift there gaze to you. Shit.
With all the turned heads, you catch Hobieās turn as well. His spider-sense now taking note of you. His eyes widen in a mix of confusion, worry and anger? Wow youāve never really seen him angry before.
Miguel takes note of you now as well now, as you shift your gaze to him, pressing your lips together as you breathe through your nose. Miguelās expression is downright terrifying. You watch as he snaps one the masked menās necks as he moves towards you.
You gulp, noticing some of the masked men move to you as well. You swiftly grab the small switch machine, and begin to back out of the room, or at least try to.
And just as a claw reaches for your face, an orange web yanks you aside, nearly making you tumble, but a tight hand wraps around your upper arm. āWhat the fuck are doing here?ā Miguel lowly hisses out.
āMiguelā I have to go.ā Mayday. You had to get to Mayday.
āNo, no you canāt just go anywhere. You were already practically an enemy to these guy, but oh now they want to kill you.ā He says this while slicing his claws across one of the guys throatsāhaving tilted his head back to display the guys bare neck.
āMiguel.ā You hiss. āLet go. I have to go.ā You rush these words out.
But Miguel didnāt want to let go. You were bleeding, bruised, and almost dead. āWhy didnāt you stay put? Why didnāt you stay goddamn put?ā He growls.
Youāre breathing hard. You had to go, and you didnāt have the time to explain. So you do the best thing you can think of. āIām sorry about this...ā
Your hand had reached for something on the a table, a plate, another peice of metal, whatever it was you knock it across his face. Not to cut, or harm, just so that his grip would loosen around your arm.
And it does, leaving you room to run. And god did you runāfast. You skirted past fighting people, the spider variants finally knocking some of the masked men down, now that the switch was off.
You reached the secret entrance, rushing into the tech room. You kept the switch machine close to you as you rushed to Maydayās hiding place. You tried to slow your breathing, not wanting to freak her out. You wiped your bloody hand on your pants, wincing as your cut rubs against the material.
You didnāt want to scare her.
You reach the small cupboard type thing, having to lift yourself up. She had clearly webbed herself towards it. But with you being taller than her you managed. You took a breath. Pretending that you had been playing the entire time.
āOh, Mayday.ā You sing songed quietly. āI wonder where you are?ā
You neared the closed cupboard door, hearing a faint giggle. You sigh in relief at the fact that sheās still here. You whip the doors open and you hear a small squeak. You scoop her up.
āFound you.ā You said softly, earning now huffing giggles from her. She was okay. She was okay.
But then your heart drops. You hear heavy scuffing boots enter the room. No. Please no. Without thinking you rush into the cupboard, shutting the door.
Mayday begins to babble on about something, but you put her head into your neck. āShh.ā You shakily whisper. āShh.ā You stroke her hair. She moves a little, but luckily she begins to relax in your arms.
You can hear the taunting boots near. And you hold your hand over your mouth, quieting your heavy breathing. Please stay quiet Mayday, please stay quietāyou think to yourself, holding her closer to you, as you slide to the floor of the cupboard. It only just fit you both.
Then the door is getting harshly pulled open and your eyes widen. No, no, no. But then just as the masked man comes into view, his body is getting harshly lifted, his feet raising as blood bleeds out from his stomach. Your eyes widen.
Then he falls to the side, revealing a heaving Miguel. Your head knocks back against the cupboard back wall, as you hold Mayday tighter to you. You couldnāt let her see. Any of the blood, you wouldnāt let her see.
Miguel meets your gaze, just as Hobie, Pav, Gwen, Miles and Peter rush to a stop beside him, all staring into the cupboard.
You begin to shakily stand, still holding onto Mayday for dear life. You were scared. Your adrenaline slowly disappearing.
Peter rushes forward taking Mayday from you. He notices there isnāt a scratch on her and Peter is beyond relieved. āMake sure she doesnātā¦see.ā You say, sounding somewhat out of it as you blink, so your eyes would stay open.
Then Hobie is slipping his arm around your midriff, supporting your legs, as you gulped down arising tears. You wouldnāt cry. Not in front of everyone.
āWhat the hell was that?ā For once there is no joke in Hobieās tone.
Your eyes a blurring, but you wanted to stay awake. You hated how much your body could exhaust. āYou were supposed to stay up here.ā Miguel is saying, his breathing still heavy.
You know that you arriving back to the tech room, alerted that now dead masked man of where you were.
For once Miguel doesnāt mind that Hobie is holding you. Heās helping you. And though Miguel would rather help you, his hands are covered in bloodāHobie having used his surroundings and web to mainly fight them, his hands being rather clean from the red.
You half heartedly chuckle. āYou can just say thanks.ā You meet his gaze, a small smile edging your lips.
āAre theyā¦ā You drift off, Gwen filling in.
āThey left. They arenāt dead. Some of them are. But the othersā¦left.ā She says, making you nod.
āThank god.ā You mutter out, the pain finally feeling like it can catch up to you. āAnd fuckā¦ā You slightly push off of Hobie, shaking your bruised hand. āWhen weāre any of you gonna tell me that punching someone really fuckinā hurts.ā
āWell, usually punching someone with a metal head tends to hurt.ā Pav says, raising his brows slightly.
āEh.ā You chuckle, continuing to flex your hand.
;;
Miguel didnāt leave your side when you went to medical, you getting stitched, and mended.
āDonāt sleep in here.ā He says, gazing around at practically every spider person. The medical was of course packed.
āBut the fire reached my roomāā
āNot mine.ā Miguel says, already slipping his arms around your bodyāthough he keeps his hands, for the majority, off of you. His hands were still covered in blood, though dry, meaning the blood wouldnāt taint you, he still couldnāt.
āThatās fineāā
āShut up, and move.ā Miguel wasnāt looking for your acceptance, taking you to his room.
;;
Once inside, he shuts the door, leading you to sit on his bed. As you did, he had slightly begun to pace the length of his room.
āWhat are you doing?ā You ask, watching his stressful state. āCan you stop?ā
He shifts his gaze to you, semi stopping. His body was still tense, his jaw clenched. āSit.ā You say, gesturing to the chair. You narrow your gaze until he obeys, moving the chair to face you, as he took a seat.
Glass still slightly littered the ground, the slight scratch marks on the chair staying easily visible.
You noticed for a moment that he couldnāt look at you. His gaze instead getting caught up with his wrist. You glanced down at it, noticing a thinā¦bracelet? It was covered in blood, and he had begin to fiddle with it, making your brows furrow.
āWhatās that?ā You ask. But he still doesnāt meet your gaze, clenching his hand into a fist.
āNothing.ā He says. But it wasnāt nothing of course. It was your bracelet, the one he had found in your rooms doorway, back in your universe when you had went missing.
āI didnāt know you were one to wear jewellery.ā You speak light heartedly. But he barely reacts. āMiguel.ā You say, sighing. āCan you at least look at me?ā
And itās the slight sadness in your voice that makes him. He looks up and youāre shocked to see a million different emotions swirling in his eyes.
āWhy did you do that?ā He asks, now not looking away from your eyes.
āWhat?ā
āThat.ā He hisses lowly. āYou were supposed to stay in the tech room.ā
āMiguel you do realise that I couldnāt have just stood there and literally watchedā¦right?ā You ask, seeing his gaze flicker everywhere on your face. āI saw something important, and thought i should help.ā
āBut you shouldnāt have.ā He says.
āYes, I should haveā¦ā You stand up now. Miguel moves to stand also, but you hold your hand out, making sure he stayed seated. āI want to help Miguel. I want to be of help.ā
āYeah, well you being of help nearly got you killed.ā He snarls.
āExactly the same as all of you.ā You say, stepping closer to his seated self. āYou guys go through so much dangerous stuff all the time. And finally when I can actually help you hate me for it.ā
āBecause youāreāā
āA weak human, yeah I got it. But I wanted to help. And It workedā¦none of you guys are dead!ā You exclaim, breathing heavy.
Miguel stares up at you, his breathing close to matching yours.
āThat is all Iāve ever wanted to do, Miguel.ā You say. āHelp.ā
āYou almost died out there.ā His voice had begun to soften.
āAnd so did you!ā Yours hasnāt yet, though.
He couldnāt resist. Slipping his hand under your thigh he pulled you towards him, making your body tumble. He caught you by a second grip on your other thigh, making sure you landed in a straddle over his lap. His legs were still a fraction spread, which made yours naturally spread further around him. This satisfied Miguelās want to keep those legs spread. Wide and open for him.
He pulled you even closer, your body sliding along his thighs, right up against him. Your heart was beating like a drum in your ears. You couldnāt think. You couldnāt speak. All you could do was breathe and stare. Stare at Miguelās piercing red eyes that now practically told you everything he hadnāt voiced yet.
Miguel stared at you, his eyes seeming to hood over on their own. You were yet again, so close. He could taste your breath. And he wanted to. God did he want to.
Heās sure it would taste so sweet. You would taste so fucking sweet. His clawed hands stayed wrapped around your thighs, as he began to lean in, his eyes focused on your freshly wet lips, your nervous habit. You were nervous. He met your gaze once more, before darting his eyes down again. He couldnāt stop leaning in.
Your heart has stopped, having been beating rapidly in your ears. You want to gulp down your nervousness but Miguel is now so close to your neck.
His warm breath fans over your skin as his mouth opens a fraction. His hands ran up your body, to grip around your waist. Then he leaned in, his lips attaching to the side of your neck. You heard him hum, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.
His hands begun to slip under your shirt, the feel of your bare skin making him go practically insane. He couldnāt believe it. He began to slowly litter small kissesāat firstāhis breathing growing heavier and heavier.
Your chest was heaving as he pulled you tighter to him, his lips now pressing harder against your skin. When they turned open-mouthed you could feel the drag of his fangs, his tongue coming down to soothe forming bruises.
Your head had begun to roll back, your hands tightly gripped onto Miguelās shoulders. āI couldnāt let you die, cariƱo.ā He whisper-groaned into your neck. His panting breath only occasionally felt, because he couldnāt back away from your skin.
His kisses began to lead up to your jaw. You were flushed, your body hot, everywhere. āMiguelāā you breathe out.
āShh, I just wannaā¦I justā¦ā but he couldnāt even finish the sentence as he reached to hover over your lips. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his claws embedding themselves into your hair, as his other hand tightened a fraction around your waist.
Now youāre breathing hard, your eyes slightly glazed over, your mind utterly dazed as you stared at Miguel. āI just want toā¦ā
You gulp. āWant to what?ā You quietly asked, your own eyes flickering to his lips.
āIā carajo.ā Was the last word he managed before his lips found yours, your head knocking back. Miguel wrapped his lips around your bottom, breathy groans easily escaping him, as he pulled you impossibly closer. His heart was beating on overdrive, nearly at a concerning tempo as he lapped at your mouth.
And god did you taste sweet. So fucking sweet. And he gets to feel youāhave you. He doesnāt have a care in the world as long as you stayed this close. Right against him letting him keep you this close. Your tongue dragged across his bottom lip, soon finding his tongue. His head moved to push further against yours, as he swirled his tongue around your mouth.
Then your body slightly jolts. His hand that was gripping your waist had tightened to a point that his claws had cut you a fraction. Miguel immediately let your waist go, realising that his bodyās reactionātightening around you, was to make sure you wouldnāt leave. āIāmāā
But youāre cutting him off with another kiss, slightly raising on your knees, so that his head had to tilt up to stay kissing you. His hands slipped to wrap around your raised thighs. āTell me you werenāt gonna apologise.ā You spoke to his lips, leaning away a fraction.
But Miguel eagerly chased your mouth, managing to pull your head back down, with a swift grip to your hair. āMiguelāā
He shook his head, his lips brushing against yours. āIf I say no, will you keep kissing me?ā He tilted his head, lips still lightly brushing yours, as his tongue came out to lick your top lip. āMm?ā
āYeaāā but Miguel cuts you off, kissing you hard as one of his hands stoked up and down your thigh. āThen Iām not sorry at all.ā He muttered between kisses. He was addicted. Thatās the simplest way to put it. Utterly addicted. āDiosā¦Iām not sorry.ā
Your hands slipped around his neck, beginning to play with the ends of his brown hair, your fingers soon sinking to softly grip the strands. A breathy moan escapes Miguelās lips at the feeling of your fingers, his mouth opening against your own. A small forming smile edged your lips at the reaction.
āShut up.ā He whispered, smashing his lips back to yours. His kisses had grown even more heatedāif possibleāspreading across your cheek, his nose brushing against your hair. āDios, y/n, can I touch youā¦mm por favorā¦?ā He asks, trying to pull your thighs back down onto him.
But you held your own, staying just out of reachālegs either side of him on the chair. When Miguel would much rather you pressed against him. Of course he was hard, aching almost painfully. āY/n.ā He lowly growled out.
You grabbed his chin, lifting his head up, as you teasingly pecked his lips. āIāve never seen you beg, give me a moment to enjoy it.ā
Miguel clenched his jaw as he harshly pulled your thighs further apart, making you gasp, landing right on top of him. He moved his hands to your hips, keeping you still, as his head slightly leant back at the feeling. āMmā¦thatās itā¦ā He whispered out.
You could feel his bulge right under you, making your core ache. Now you felt hot. And as you looked at a breathless Miguel, his chest heaving mismatched you couldnāt help but begin to slightly move your hips.
Miguelās breathing hitches, his hands gripping your waist. āY/nā¦ā
āShh.ā You partially mocked, earning a small growl from Miguel. āDidnāt you say I had to do anything for you?ā You moved your hips along him, grinding torturously. āThis seems like it would certainly help.ā Your tone is breathy, as your hips movements sends jolts through you both.
āFor aā¦mission.ā Miguel remembers the start of the dealāthe conversationācorrecting you, through heavy breaths. God, what were you doingā¦keep doing it.
āWhich loosely means for you.ā You copy his previous words.
His head slightly falls back. āMierda, cariƱoā¦ā
You go to place your hands on his chest, when his head comes back up, his grip slipping from your waist to your hips and managing to stop you. He leans towards your ear. āBut do you really think Iām gonna let you grind on me like that? Make me pathetically reach my high with clothesā¦still on?ā
Your breathing hitches. His hand reaches up your shirt again, but pauses by the side of your waist. Then before you know it, Miguelās holding your thighsāwrapped around himāas he stands. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck thinking you would fall.
Miguel chuckles at the reaction, instead, effortlessly walking with you towards his bed. He leans forward, resting you down as his hands came to cage you in. Youāre resting on your elbows, pushing a little higher up. Miguel leans even more forward, so that youāre forced to lean back with him.
āLie backā¦eso es (thatās it)ā¦thatās maā girl.ā Miguel breathes, as your head rests back against his sheets. My girl. His girl. All of Miguelās previous loud voices, the ones that had quietened when you hugged him have become one. Repeating the wordsāmy girl, my girl, my girl.
my god, that was a trip. and finallyyyy! AHHH ā I hope this is what you guys expected and hope you all liked it <33
I promise promise promise, I will carry on this smut on the next part <33 it was just getting so longāI couldnāt stop writing (Iām sorry guys I gotta keep edging ya)
plus since itās the last part (part 9) next, everything will be concluded, and all mysteries solved! coz thatās just plain cruel if I utterly leave you guys hanging
Summary: Jason and the boys are in a band and you're the bands social media manager.
Pairing: Photographer!Reader x Drummer!Jason Todd.
4.7k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, Rock Band! AU, swearing, bondage with chains, teasing, choking, hair pulling, spanking, object insertion, man handling, pet names, dirty talk, probably something else very horny I forgot.
The music rings through the hall of the dark and atmospheric club, Tim's guitar solo brings the crowd forward, the patrons push the barricade to try and get closer to them. You step closer to the stage, keeping your security guard close as you pace behind the barricade hoping to find the perfect angle for the band's socials. Tim slides out in front of Damian who's belting the lyrics to their latest song so loud youāll be surprised if he can talk after.
The crowd grows wild, people cheering and dancing behind you as you snap a photo of the two front men singing angrily into the microphone.Ā
"Oh my God!" A woman shouts behind you, "there he is. Fuck, he's so fine," you don't need to turn, knowing that she's staring at the now spotlighted drummer, sweat pouring off his head, the drumsticks twirling in his long fingers, those pretty blue eyes fixed on his drums. The chains on his pants rattling, his studded vest flapping with how fast his arms are moving, his curls plastered to his face with how much heās sweating.Ā
"Looks like they're going to rush soon," a familiar voice whispers into your ear piece as you click the shutter on your camera. The 3 of them now in the shot, "head back, don't want another incident."
"Two seconds, Dickie. Get my margarita ready." You respond, turning to take a few pictures of the crowd and a few on your phone of the drummer, just for you, before you head backstage.
You meet Dick at the side of the stage, your drink already in his hand as he offers you a seat. "Don't know why they wouldn't let me book a bigger place," he says taking the seat next to you, "this place is packed and everyone on the internet is bummed they didn't get tickets."
"Makes it more exclusive," you shrug, moving your head so you can peer from behind the curtains at the flex of Jason's arms, "plus you know what they're like, they still think their small time."
You and Dick sit together, sometimes getting up to dance when the music compels you. But you're always watching him, the quick way his fingers twirl the drumsticks, how his legs flex as he beats the drums, his curls sweaty and sticking to his forehead.Ā
His eye catches yours for a moment and he smiles at you. Your heart starts to beat faster, your cheeks getting warm and your legs going gooey as you return the smile. Seeming to notice the effect he's having on you, he throws his favourite pair of drumsticks in the air before catching them and falling back into the song.
The crowd goes wild as the last song of the set comes to an end. Tim and Damian thank the crowd for coming out to see the last show The Dead Robins Club would be performing in this city, before the boys head to the side of the stage towards you.Ā
"Show us the pics!" Tim says coming up beside you and leaning over your shoulder, "did you get the mic toss?"
"I did and I got your power slide," you flick through your reel, showing him most of the pictures you took, all the ones on your official camera at least. The ones on your phone were, are, personal. And you donāt wanna feed Jasonās hordes of thirsty ass fans with the slightly provocative pictures you took of his hands and his pretty face.
"Shame, still none of Jay," he says, slapping his brother on the shoulder, "guess we know who the favourites are big guy"Ā
"A huh," Jason grunts as he passes you, "meet you guys at the hotel."
"You're leaving already?" Dick asks, trying to stop Jason as he starts to pack up his things, "the fans want autographs."
"Like Timmy said, I ain't no one's favourite." He pulls his bag over his shoulder, ignoring Dicks protests, he shoots you a look before he walks down towards where the cars are waiting.
You entertain the boys for an hour helping them get selfies with fans, before Dick announces that it's time to wrap up.Ā
"Wanna go grab a drink at the bar?" Dick asks as the boys head out to do their own things, "the night's still young and so are we."
"Nah Iām good. It's been a long day,ā you yawn for affect, āPlus I gotta get all these,ā you gesture to your camera, āedited and uploaded,ā you give him a sympathetic look, āI think I'm just going to go to bed before we have to get back on the plane tomorrow, sorry Dickie"
"Suit yourself. I guess I'll just sit and drink,ā he pouts at you, āalone."
"Sure you won't be alone for too long." You joke, giving him a quick hug and heading up the elevator.
Xx
You pull out the key card, slipping it into the lock and stepping into the room. A familiar face already waiting on your couch with a bottle of wine in hand, and his large combat boots kicked across the room, "took ya long enough."
"You know how they are," you shrug off your coat, "Dick still didn't wanna go to bed," you toe off your shoes and step towards him, "I can't just leave him."
"You can," Jason stands, grabbing you and pulling you down onto the couch on top of him.
āBut he uses those puppy dog eyes on me and I feel bad.ā
āThatās the only trick that guy knows,ā he rolls his eyes, his arms wrapping around your waist, "just tell him you got a better offer."
"Did I though?"
"Cheeky," he kisses you like he's been waiting all day to get you alone, his hands already clinging to you and starting to peel your clothes away, "I saw you watching me, sweetheart," he finally frees your shirt from your pants and pulls it over your head.
āI wouldnāt, didnāt you hear the boys,ā you pull his vest from his back, āNo pictures of you.ā
"There's always a way for me to check," he smirks into your kiss, his fingers slipping down to your ass, then reaching into your back pocket for your phone and dangling it in front of your face.
āWonāt find anything in there.ā you lie, unconvincingly.
āYou wouldnāt be lying to me, would you?ā he raises his eyebrow at you.
āNo,ā you grab for it, but he pulls his arm up higher. You jump, and he drops it behind the couch, giving you a knowing look.
āThat's what I thought,ā his fingers toy with the button on your jeans, āWhat else are you lying to me about?ā he grabs at the band, pulling them down to your hips, "Is my pussy wet for me?"
"I-"
"You wouldn't lie to me would you?" He kisses across your jawline as his fingers sink into your panties, stopping at your panty line, "no, not you. My good girl wouldn't lie to me," his fingers slip down lower meeting with the seeping spot in your panties, "tell me Kitten," he leans back meeting your eyes, "if you got such a better offer, why are you here with me with suck a soaking wet pussy?"
"Coincidence?" You joke, laughing as he lifts you up and your pants fall to the floor.
"Like fuck is it a coincidence," he throw you over his shoulder, "you bloody liar," he slaps you on the ass, "I know how watching me play affects you," he walks, his bicep just far enough away form your pussy go tease you, ābet youāve got lots of good shots on your phone, donāt you?ā
āNope,ā you giggle, your arms attempting to reach his ass, but his torso is so fucking long and thick.
āYou're going to pay for that." he smacks you again, his fingers kneading at the tender flesh of your ass.
"Oh, no. How awful!" You start to squirm as he kicks the door to the bedroom open and drops you on the bed.
"First the lying and now the attitude," he tuts as he peels off his black t-shirt, "you poor thing," he unclips the chain from his pants, "You really need some sense fucked into you," he grabs at your hands slinking the chain around them and locking them together behind the bed head, "don't you?" Jasonās soft lips brush over yours.
"Yes."
"Good girl. Now, how should I punish you?" He thinks aloud, watching as you start to squirm when he pulls back from you. His studded belt releases his tight black jeans, "What?" He laughs as your eyes fixate on the way his huge hand is wrapping around his cock, "Do you like watching me play with myself?" He licks his lips, his teeth sinking in when he notices your hips gyrating into the air, "do you need some attention, Sweetheart?"Ā
'Please."
"But you haven't been good," he kneels on to the ground and you feel something cool touch your leg, the metal of the chains biting into your wrists as you strain to get free, "maybe I should coat my sticks on your cum," the cool wood glides up your thigh before slapping down onto your clit, "at our next show I'll be able to smell you on them," his eyes lock with yours, "wouldn't that be a nice treat for me, Kitten?"
"Yes, please," you try to move, but he just taps the drum stick onto your clit again, "that'd be so hot."
"Wouldn't it just," the tip of the drumstick slips down from your clit, dipping into you and you can't help the way your back arches into it, "so needy for me, aren't you Kitten?" The drumstick goes deeper, angling it up so it sweeps right over your g spot. Jasons free hand rests on your stomach as his thumb rubbing into your clit in just the way you like as he thrusts the stick into you. His eyes torn between watching your face and watching his favourite thing disappearing into his favourite person.
"Jason.ā
"Does my girl need more?" He teases you, "need something bigger?"
"I do.ā
"Show me," he chuckles, pulling the drumsticks from you with a pop and licking along its length, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. His face forlorn, torn between wanting to taste you and how bad he wants to fuck you, "show me where you want me Kitten?"
You whine, your hands jangling against the chains, tugging at them as you glare at him.
"Oh, you can't? You poor thing," his cock slaps on top of your pussy, "keep squirming for meĀ Kitten." He leans over your body, his lips finally meeting yours, "I love when you're needy for me like this. So desperate," his hand grips your face, "it's pathetic."
You try to pull your face from his grasp, but he holds you still. Your eyes start to wander until his nails dig into your cheeks, "keep those pretty eyes on me," you feel his cock slip back, the huge head pushing, teasing at your core, "you ready?" His head circles you, "nod or shake your head for me, Kitten. I know words are hard for you when you're like this."
You nod, your legs wrapping around Jason's thick thighs. Trying so hard to pull him closer, even if you know it's useless.
"Good girl. I can feel your legs tightening on me," he releases your face, his hand softly brushing your cheek where you imagine his claw marks are, "pull me in."
You tighten your legs even more, Jason moves closer, his cock pushing up against you until it starts to spread you, stretching you out as he sinks deeper and deeper inside you. You canāt help the moans that escape your lips as your pussy becomes so fucking full you think your brain might explode. āBreathe,ā his fingers pull your bottom lip from your teeth, āSweetheart, take a breath for me,ā he starts to withdraw himself, not really restrained by the grip of your legs, āKitten,ā you suck in a breath, the overwhelming fullness turning your brain off for a second there.
āIām breathing,ā you reassure him, trying to pull your hands from the chains, āPlease donāt go.ā
āDo you want me to unchain you?ā his eyes are so soft, one hand still on your face while the other traces little hearts into your thigh, āIs it too much?ā
āIām good, now. I just needed a minute,ā you reassure him, āI promise, itās just been-ā
āA while, yeah I know.ā
āCan we talk about it after, Jay?ā you try to move, but heās so heavy on top of you, āBecause right now, Iād really like you to move.ā
āNeedy,ā his fingers tighten on your thigh, pushing it back up towards your chest, āImpatient,ā his soft caress on your cheek stops as his hand slips around your throat, āMy good Kitten.ā He starts to thrust, his hips meeting yours with every inwards motion. His pelvis grinding into your clit when he leans down to capture your lips with his. āI missed this,ā he moans into your mouth, his fingers tightening in your hair while your legs cling to him.
āMissed you.ā
āIām right here, always.ā
āNot close enough,ā you thrust back up, āCloser, please.ā
āNever been close enough to you,ā Jason mewls, āYouāre so fucking warm, Kitten.ā
āFuckin hot when that spotlight hits you.ā you feel your pussy clench down on him when he smirks down at you.
āNot as beautiful as you do, shrouded in the dark of the clubs,ā he brushes the hair from your face, smoothing it back behind your ear. The tingle tickles, jolting your body up and you feel his cock brush over your g spot.
āJay, right there-ā you moan into his ear, āPlease donāt stop.ā
āIām not stopping until you cum on me,ā his hand reaches up, releasing your hands from the chains with a snap of his fingers, āBut I need your hands on me.ā
Your wrists ache, but your hands quickly find their place in his hair, tugging his face closer to yours, kissing him deeper and sinking your teeth into his lip. With one hand in his hair, you slip the other down to his shoulder, bringing his chest flush with yours. The sweat of your bodies mingling as you both moan into the kiss.Ā
Your eyes open when he pulls back from you, his stubble brushing against your cheek, his moans filling your ears, āYouāre fucking gripping me so tight, Kitten. You getting close?ā he bites down on your neck, āI know you are.ā
āYes, Iām so close, Jay.ā the animalistic sound that seems to reverberate from his throat is what sends you over the edge, the primal way he turns from somewhat sensual to fucking insane is something else. You canāt stop cumming, his cock somehow getting harder and deeper within you with every thrust and that sound just wonāt stop. You almost question whether it's you making that noise, but when he starts to chant your name in your ear and you know heās close.
āJason.ā you whisper hoarsely as your second round of pleasure starts to build inside you, you feel his cock throb, āJason,ā itās twitching inside you, bouncing off your insides and making a smoothie out of them, āJason.ā
āFuck me, Kitten,ā his nails dig into your, his lips reaching for yours to quiet the scream he lets out into your mouth. Jasons cum paints your insides, but he doesnāt stop fucking you, āI donāt want this to end,ā he pants between cries of pleasure, āI want to fuck you forever, to be inside you always.ā
You donāt even realise youāre cumming again until your legs start to cramp and your mind goes numb, the thickness of Jason's cock slowly receding from you and his fingers replacing it. Gently gliding up and down as you twitch out the last of your orgasm. āYou look beautiful like this. Carefree and relaxed.ā he whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead before falling down beside you and pulling you under his arm. āTake a deep breath.ā
You do, snuggling into his side as you try to match his breathing. Your leg wrapping over his to try and leech some of his warmth. āI can breathe on my own, you know.ā
āYeah, but I know I take your breath away with my dashing looks.ā
āTrue,ā you rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him, āYouāre very pretty,ā you bouncing one of his curls, the white one, itās your favourite.
āNot as pretty as you, Kitten,ā he takes your hand. Holding it in his, his thumb grazing over your wrists, āAre your wrists ok?ā
āTheyāre fine, a bit tender.ā
āIāll rub some of that coconut cream on them in a sec,ā he gives them each a small kiss, āJust wanna cuddle you a bit longer.ā
āI missed this,ā you sigh, putting your arm over him and pulling yourself up so you're laid out flat on top of him, ātour buses suck. Maybe we should run away?ā
āI wish, could you imagine. Dick would have a fucking heart attack. But I get what you mean and the next few weeks arenāt going to be any better.ā
āWeāll have to get better at sneaking around.ā
āYou will.ā he says, like he doesn't, āYou think Iām the only one who knows you take pictures of me on your phone to jerk off to?ā
āWhat?ā you try to sit up in alarm only for Jason's arm to hold you close.
āDonāt worry about it, but Kitten,ā he whispers, bringing your lips down to his, ātour buses are small, maybe next time, donāt moan my name in the middle of the night.ā
Taglist: did I forget you? let me know in your most sarcastic typeface
warnings ā dubcon-ish?, enemies with benefits, handjob, edging, implied intercouse towards the end
a/n ā i know this is very out of the blue but i watched atsv and i cant get miguel out of my head
wc. 1.1k
āuntie me,ā hissed miguel, fangs jutting as his blood-thirsty eyes followed you.Ā
you let out a hollow laugh the second those words escaped his mouth and met his penetrating stare. to say you and and miguel were enemies would be an understatement. there was something about this guy that irked you in the worst way, but could also turn you on like no other.
the feeling was mutual. youād never admit a word of this if it wasnāt - not even to yourself. you and miguel had a weird thing going on, the sort of thing where the line between hate and lust grew thinner with each dark, loathing stare he shot you.Ā
maybe youād had his cock in you a couple of times. twelve, to be exact, though not that you were counting (because you totally werenāt). not your proudest moments, but the sight of him on his knees, tangled in a weaving of webs made you forget it. his muscles bulged with every endeavor to free himself from your little trick. which was hilarious, because if they were any tighter, theyād burst right through his spandex.Ā
not that you were complaining.Ā
āhm, let me think about it,ā you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. āno.ā
āi said - untie me. now,ā miguel roared, as if it would make any difference.Ā
you crouched before him, pouting. āwhatās the matter, spider-man? canāt handle other people telling you no? you donāt get to be the boss of everyone, cariƱo.ā
you waved your finger in his face, to which miguel responded to with a lean forward as if he were going to bite your wrist off, but you were too quick.Ā
āwoah there, bitey,ā you taunted. āget it? that rhymes with spidey. hilarious, donāt you think?ā
miguel spat, āyou annoy me.ā
āitās a pleasure,ā you said, merely grinning. then, you pointed to the extended talon behind his back where his hands were tied, asking, ācan i borrow that? thanks.ā
you used his talons to poke a hole in the lower half of his suit, promptly tearing at the spandex until the hole expanded. miguel wasnāt exactly pleased, not yet anyways, barking, āwhat the hell do you think youāre doing?ā
āmore than you deserve,ā you whispered, widening the gap until his half-hard cock was freed. that you inevitably already saw. for obvious reasons, it was difficult for spider-men to conceal their hard-ons. āyou guys freeball under these suits? thatās crazy. i mean, not that youāre gonna catch a hard-on fighting the spot, but you never know. i mean, what if some really sexy villain just hitsā¦ the spot. get it? the-ā
āthe spot. yes, i get the joke. shut the hell up,ā miguel grumbled, irritated.
you giggled. his annoyed face was too hot. of course, you were riling him up on purpose.
licking a line down your palm, you gently grabbed his cock, stroking him in your hands while looking him in his angry eyes. you saw his features tense, the part that didnāt want to be angry surfacing. the part that wanted to be relieved.
that was all that was wrong with this cranky guy. he just needed some relief in his life, and who better to provide it to him than you, the spider-person he never wanted on this team in the first place but took in because jess had insisted you could be useful. and you were, in more ways than one. not that miguel would ever admit that, though.
āfuck,ā miguel grunted, writhing again, though not in an attempt to escape. you knew how to pleasure him and that was your saving grace, but you also knew how to tease. ācould you be any slower with that?ā
āi could, actually. watch this,ā you retorted, now pumping him in no particular hurry. you had time to waste.
your leisure movements were killing miguel slowly. literally. he groaned, āwell, could you go any faster?ā
āi could,ā you repeated with a lilt. ābut youād have to say the magic word.ā
āgo faster!ā
you gave him a mocking frown. āi donāt think thatās it, oāhara.ā
ādo i have to?ā
ādo you want to cum?ā
miguel winced his eyes closed, heaved a huge sigh, and huffed, āplease, go faster.ā
āwow, you hit the lottery,ā you said, quickening your pace. you loved watching his brows furrow with pleasure, sweat beading at his face.
miguel bit his lip, wanting to be mad at how you satisfied him. it reminded you of when he was buried balls deep inside of you, his weight resting on top of your chest while his teeth clamped into your shoulder, not for the purpose of extracting blood but to smother the sounds of pleasure that escaped him when your cunt was squeezing his dick. almost like he would rather die than let you know you were good for something.
it didnāt matter, though. the telltale signs of arousal manifested themselves in plentiful ways from his body, like the taut ache in his pants when you turned him on a little too much. he got so hard for you, it was ridiculous.
and you were having a ball (you were tempted to make a joke, but resisted for his mental sake). there was something about having an insanely large, strong man who could potentially crush you to smithereens squirming at your mercy. it made warmth spread through your chest and the slyest grin curl onto your lips.
miguelās hips were thrusting into your palm, an obvious sign that he was on the brink of climax. youād come to know it by now - he started to lost control, the reins slipping out his hands. and you loved it. you loved how he was a slave to his urges and not the other way around.
āyou almost there?ā you asked, in spite of being fully aware.Ā
miguel offered you no words, but the look on his face and his unstill, restless body said enough.
that was when you got the bold idea to withdraw your hand at the very last second, depriving him of what could have been. his wrath was instant. you saw his hips flail in a desperation youād never seen of him before, his fluttering eyes snapping open to cut at you.
āoopsies,ā you sang, smiling innocently.
that was the very last straw for miguel and he broke out of your restraints, having enough of playing weak. you gasped, caught off-guard when he switched on a dime, throwing you against the ground and hovering over you. you parted your lips to speak, but he was quick to shoot a web over your mouth.Ā
āyou talk too much,ā miguel growled, cutting your own spandex with his talons, and was pleased to find you were very wet. he fixed himself between your thighs, leaning into your ear to whisper, āand for the record, nobody decides if i cum, cariƱo.ā
ā EL TRATO (THE DEAL) miguel oāhara x fem!reader
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step seven
3.2k words
ā you wanted to know what those spanish sentences miguel made you say meant, him having kept that to himself. and when you do, having scouted miles, youāre leftā¦wellā¦shocked. your friends are also left shocked wondering who asked you to say those things. when you go to question miguel about it you find him in a state youāve never seen him in before.
contains: angst but kinda fluffy? straight after; mention of past violence (minor);
You had desperately wanted to translate the Spanish Miguel had chosen not to tell you. So much so, that you had began to scout HQ for a Spanish native speaker. You were too prideful to use your phone for translation, plus Miguel said nothing on not asking someone.
You remember Miles saying his mum was Hispanic. Even if his Spanish wasnāt top notch youāre sure heāll understand at least a few words. Understand the sentences Miguel made you say.
You spot Pav talking with some other spider variants, using large hand gestures. "Pav!" You call, walking up to him.
He shifts his gaze to you, a smile soon following. āY/n. How are you?ā
You smile. āGoodā¦yeah, no Iām good. I was just wondering if you knew where Miles was?ā
āOh.ā He spins. āI swear I saw him over there.ā He points in a random direction. āā¦now heās gone. Maybe with Gwen.ā He nudges you, raising his brows. You chuckle, understanding the meaning of those raised brows.
āWell, this will only take a moment. I just need translation for something.ā
āTranslation? To what language?ā Pav asks.
āFrom Spanish to English. And I heard Miles knows a bit.ā
āAhā¦wait, but doesnāt Miguel fully speak it?ā Pav pauses. āYeah, heād know a lot more than Miles.ā
You nod. āHe just wonāt tell me.ā You mutter under your breath.
āWhat was that?ā Pav asks, brows furrowed.
You look back up. āMiguelās just kind of busy right now.ā You had no idea if he was or not. āAnd so I thought Miles might be free.ā
āI see.ā Pav nods. āCome on, Iāll help you find him.ā Pav begins to head down one of the paths in the communal area where bunches of spider variants sat and stood talking.
āMiles!ā Pav called out to nowhere in particular. āMiles!?ā
āIs yelling his name really gonna help?ā Your brows furrow.
āI like to think yelling will conjure up the whole āspider-senseā thing.ā Pav says, still gazing around. āWait, maybe I need to sound more in distress.ā
You chuckle, looking around. And thatās when you spot Miles and Gwen. āMiles!ā You walk over with a smile. Pav is hot on your heels.
Miles turns, and copies your smile. āY/n, hey.ā
āOkay look, Iām sorry to ask this but can you translate something for me?ā You ask, hopeful.
Miles tilts his head slightly. āYeah, sure. As long as it isnāt French, or Dutch, or Russian. Or practically any language I donāt know.ā
Your smile widens. āNo, no. None of those. Itās just Spanish.ā
āOh.ā Miles stands straighter. āIāll warn you I donāt know a heck of amount. But I can give it go.ā
āThank you.ā You grow more excited in way. All of last night you had been thinking about what you had said, really trying not to just roll over and grab your phone.
āOkay, so itās two sentences.ā You begin. Miles nods. āThe first one isā¦āMe encantarĆa usarā¦tu cama para otrasā¦cosasā.ā You say it somewhat slowly, making sure you got it right.
When you look back to Miles, heās staring at you blinking. You stare back. āWhat?ā You ask.
āUm.ā He scratches the back of his head. āIām probably hearing it wrong.ā He mutters to himself before heās looking back to an expectant you.
āWhat was the second one?ā He asks, a little more curious this time.
Now miles is staring at you. You eye him, brows furrowed. āWhat does it mean?ā
He coughs. āWho said that to you?ā
āOh, no I said it to someone.ā You answer. āWell, they asked me to say itā¦ā
āYou said it someoneā¦ā he drifts off, slightly gulping.
āWhat? Is itā¦bad?ā Your brows are further furrowed. āCome on, Miles, please. Iāve been dying to know what it means all of last night.ā
āWell, the first oneā¦it means āIād love to use your bed for other thingsā.ā He mutters it out extremely quickly. That you think you donāt catch it right.
āWhat?ā
āAnd the second one means ādonāt you think Iād look pretty trapped in your sheets?ā.ā Milesā has looked away, scratching the back of his neck again, clearly a fraction flustered.
This time youāre staring at him, or more so through him. Then you blink. āWhat?ā You repeat stupidly. That canāt be right. Why did miguel ask you to say something about his bedā¦
Now you werenāt dumb you were justā¦in shock. Because how does that make sense. And as the words settle in your mind a little more, you begin to feel the familiar burn in your stomach.
Recently your skin had begun to feel hot. In specific scenarios, around a specific someone. Every moment that he had touched you in some way you had either been injured, or fainting, so you hadnāt realised the reactions in the moment. But now, having your mind clear and your body healthy enough your skin grows prickly.
Then there was the touches on your chinā¦
At first you thought that they were a form of showing his superiority. It seemed like something heād do. But when you really thought about it, you realised that he wasnāt grabbing Peterās face like that, he wasnāt leaning over a chair that Gwen was sitting at.
Now youāve grown hot. And your cheeks are probably bright red, considering how Pav is eyeing you. āUm.ā You nod. You donāt know why youāre nodding. You just need to do something that isnāt stare off into space.
āWho, um, asked you to say that?ā Gwen asks.
You shift your gaze to her, still slightly stuck in your own head. You felt the urge to fan yourself, but realised how implicating that would seem. Miguel got you to say that stuff? That seemed to be a repeating question in your head.
āOh, uh, nobody.ā You didnāt really want to tell them that it was Miguel. You felt it would put pressure on something that you were sure wasnāt even something. It wasnātā¦right?
But now as you quickly thank miles and skim past them, your mind is whirring. Did Miguelā¦? You press your lips together at the thought, unbuttoning the first button of your dress shirt. You were sure you were reading into it. Thoughā¦part of you was actually hoping the underlying meaning you were thinking of was the truth.
You were even slightly shocked at yourself at this revelation. Itās as if it had always been on the tip of your tongue. Not falling off because Miguel is wellā¦Miguel.
;;
āWhat was that about?ā Pav asks, watching your leaving form. Gwen watches you go as well, eyes narrowing in her own inspection.
Miles was still going over the sentences in his head, really double checking he got them right. āYeahā¦nah, thatās right.ā He mutters. āMy translations right.ā
āWho asked herāā
āAsked who what?ā Hobie appeared, clearly just back from a mission, as he leaned against Miles, resting his arm on his shoulder.
āY/n.ā Gwen says. āShe asked Miles to translate something for her.ā
āSee, I knew this guy would be helpful.ā Hobie slightly shakes Milesā shoulders.
āI think someone has a crush on y/n.ā Pav says, making Hobie shift his gaze to him.
āWho?ā Miles asks, suddenly interested in the small ordeal.
Pav shrugs, but Hobie shakes his head, scoffing. Pav hadnāt seen you and Miguel interact a hell of a lot. Gwen didnāt pay that much attention to peopleās gazes, and Miles was wellā¦new. So, maybe Hobie could give them a break, but he still couldnāt believe how oblivious they were.
Hobie began to figure out Miguelās little crush on you when Miguel had called him in for a last minute mission that Miguel could have easily done himself. He hadnāt needed Hobie.
And when Miguelās jaw clenched at the mention of how he was supposed to be hanging out with you, Hobie began to clock on.
āCome on, you lot.ā Hobie says staring at them. āTell me, who speaks Spanish here? Fluently?ā
Gwen looks down, thinking. āMiguel.ā
Hobie nods. āUh huh.ā He presses, seeing their slightly furrowed brows. āOh bloody hell, you lot are thick.ā
āOhā¦ā Pav mutters. āOh!ā He realises, and Hobie gestures to him, sighing in relief.
āThank anarchy.ā He mutters, thankful one person caught on.
āMiguel likes y/n?!ā Pav practically exclaims, earning a few side glances from other spider variants.
āItād seem so.ā Hobie smirks.
;;
Later that evening, you stood, not meaning to feel as flushed as you were. Standing in front of Miguel's bedroom door, you felt hot, your breathing quickening. After having found out what he got you to sayāand having gone through the stages of confusion, denial and then shockāyou've arrived back to sweaty palms.
You take a breath, knocking, but instead of the solid feel of the door, your hand falls through, the door having been cracked open a fractionāyour nervous state must have forced you not to notice. It swings wider and your breath hitches.
Miguel's room is a mess, and not just his bed this time. Things are smashed, and his chair is thrown, lying lifeless on the floor. You then shift your gaze up to a heaving Miguel. He finally notices your presence, meeting your wide eyes.
Miguel had always been someone who was controlled. Sure, he got agitated easy, and clearly had some anger issues to deal with, but 'messy' was never a word you associated with him. And here he was hair ruffled, wet from the outside rain, and covering part of his eyes. His chest heaved to a mismatched beat, as his nose twitched in a snarl, his fangs very visible in the dim light. He looked like the definition of āa messā.
"What are you doing here?" His low tone breaks you from your silent stance, your lips coming closed to rub against each other in...thought? You weren't entirely sure.
You gulp. "Did something...happen?" You scan his body for injuries, but find none. You glance at his open window. "Did you go on a mission?"
"Did you need something?" Miguel doesn't mean for his tone to come out so harshly. And watching your face twitch a fraction made him grind his teeth in annoyance at himself.
"I was going to ask you something, but..." Now you weren't so sure that this moment was the right one.
Miguel gulps, turning slightly away from you. "If you have nothing to sayā¦go."
Yes, Miguel was acting clip and rude with you. And yes...maybe he did turn away so he wouldn't see your expressions. But then he hears your steps slowly draw closer. He shifts his gaze back to you.
Right now was the worst time to see you, he didn't want you to see him, he wanted you to go.
"I thought you had nothing to say?" Miguel briskly asks, but you caught the slight crack in his harsh tone. A crack that displayed a mix of emotionsāstress, anxiety,...fear?
Before you know it you're moving closer, your feet, the rain and his breathing filling the other wise silent room. "Now's not a good time." His tone cracked even more. This time with anger.
You stop, a decent distance away. And maybe you should leave, leave him to this. But what is this? You voice that. "What is this?" 'This' as in the mess. 'This' as in Miguel's body language. He looked like he was not even a minute away from exploding.
"Are you...okay?"
Part of Miguel's facade broke at that. "I'm perfectly fine. Do I not look it?" He spits this, fully turning to you. Some droplets of water, that had drenched his hair slides down his cheek.
You know not to be taken aback by Miguel's words. But you'd never seen the word 'crazed' written in his eyes before...'frantic'. "No...you don't look it." You say, eyeing him. "You look...you don't look like yourself."
Miguel mockingly nods, his tongue dragging across one of his fangs, and actually drawing blood. "Right." He forcibly chuckles. "I forgot, I'm supposed to look...what? Composed? On task? In control?" He's stepped closer to you, each word coming out like a snarl.
"Not everything stays the same." Miguel is saying. "Not everything goes the way we plan." He grits out 'plan' like he despises the word altogether.
And as you glance from his hair to the window, to then his too clean of a suit, you realise something. It wasn't a mission, but he had gone somewhere.
"Miguel, where did you go?"
"I didn't go anywhere." He scoffs out.
"Yes you did." You say, narrowing your eyes in thought. And maybe now would be a good time to leave, leave him be. But of course you wouldn't, 'worry' now tieing you up tight. Then you pause. "Why are talking about things that don't go to plan? What hasn't gone to plan?"
"You know, you can be real nosy sometimes." Miguel wanted to punch himself. Why did he say that? You had never been nosy, only observant. Maybe too much for your own good, but it was surely a talent of yours. And here he was shaming you.
But in this moment you weren't fazed. Something was wrong. "Miguel, you've clearly just come in here angry. You're hair's wet from the rain, so obviously recently. Your room is a mess. It's never a mess. You're...never a mess."
"Oh, plenty of things can become a mess, y/n."
"Yeah, but never you. Sure, you've gotten angry before, but you've never trashed a room. There's glass on the floor...you broke that mirror." You gesture to the one hanging on the wall, a prominent fist imbedded in the middle.
"Don't tell me you're gonna deduce where I've fucking been by the glass?!" He was yelling. Not at you. Never at you. At himself. But he's always been very good at projecting. Especially when you're around.
"No." You breathe. "I'm asking you." You say, letting a hint of your concern shine through. You were concerned. Very concerned. Maybe Miguel would have noticed your concern, if he wasn't slowly loosing it. If the messed up room wasn't enough of a tell, he's hit his peak.
"What happened?" You ask again, and this time you finally get a response.
"I fucked up, okay?!" He exclaims, his heart pounding a mile a minute. "I can't take it back. And I've tried. I've really tried. But you know what? Maybe this is meant to happen. Maybe I'm meant to screw everything up."
You stare at him. "What are you talking about?"
"I..." Miguel drifts off, fisting his already disheveled hair. "I let them take it..." Hs voice has softened. But not to a nice kind of softenedāa broken one.
You step a fraction closer. "Who? And take what?"
You can visibly see Miguel's strength ebbing away. He looks exhausted, and all in all done. Done with everything. You didn't like that look, you didn't like the inclination of it. "Miguel." You say slowly.
But he's going farther and farther back into his mind, getting tangled up in thoughts you could tell had begun to haunt him. Screwed up? What had he supposedly screwed up?
Then before your mind could work on overdrive, millions of questions wanting to surface, and before Miguel could step further back from reality, you stepped much, much closer, reaching up on your tip toes. And then you wrapped your arms around his neck...hugging him.
Miguel is frozen. Entirely frozen. His mind stops trying to murder him and the drowning sounds in his ears fade away. Now he can hear your breathing, a nervous beat clear. He doesnāt know what to do. He doesnāt know if he should do what heās thinking.
But then youāre slowly drawing back, arms leaving his body. And he canāt have that. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back to him, as his hands clench around your shirt.
Your breathing hitches as Miguelās breath hits your collarbone, his head choosing to rest in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing part of your skin.
No. He had told himself he wouldnāt think like that anymore. It was exhausting, and he was tired enough as is. His grip tightened around you. To all the doubtful voices in his head, he was using you to say āshut the hell upā.
You could feel Miguelās entire body practically slump against yours. And though your cheeks were red hot, and your heart was screaming you wrapped your arms back around his neck, your wrists meeting together by his hair.
For once Miguel heard silence. He had always had too many voices in his head telling him this and that. And that āthis was what has to be doneā and that āno, you canāt get distractedā.
Now he felt a much relieving calmness engulfing him. You. His breathing slightly shuddered against your neck, the open of his mouth leading his fangs to lightly brush across your skin.
You shivered at this, earning Miguel to lean his head back. But he didnāt let your waist go. You stopped those voices and heād be damned if he let you step away from his body now.
Your breathes met, as did your gaze. You were close, the seeming millimetre making you seem even more so. You could feel Miguelās fingers fiddle slowly with the back of your shirt, your front still pressed against his.
āIāmā¦ā You gulp, your voice coming out much shakier than you intended. āSorryā¦I probably shouldnāt have hugged you.ā You could practically taste his breath.
āYeahā¦you probably shouldnāt have.ā His tone is breathy, sounding out of body, as his gaze flickers to your lips.
Theyāre dryāof course. And now at the close proximity licking them made you feel ten times hotter. You prayed he couldnāt see your blushing cheeks.
āIām sorry that I justā¦sorta came in.ā You felt you had to fill in the silence. Miguel didnāt seem to mind it though, cause it meant that he could listen to your voice. And replacing your voice with the oneās in his head is probably the smartest choice he could ever make.
Well maybe the second smartest choiceā¦ He stared at your freshly wet lips, breathing harder. His thoughts had changed from āhow much more could he takeā to āhow much moreā¦moreā¦moreā. He wanted more. More of your closeness, this seemed to not be enough.
In response to his thoughts his hands glided up your back, making your body lean more against him. Chest to chest.
āA-and I probably shouldnāt have assumed all that stuffā¦ā you breathe out, as Miguel tilts his head, looking down at you. Itās safe to say your were flustered.
āI think you did alright.ā He partially whispered.
āWellā¦youāre not throwing a chair..so..ā Stupid, stupid, stupidāyou think to yourself. āI meanā¦ā
And to your shock you notice his lips begin to curve up. And not just to stop at a certain point. No. His lips continued to widen until he was smiling. An actual, genuine smile, that oozed amusement, and it made him lookā¦happy?
āCareful.ā You say. āYou look like youāre expressing a āsparkly emotionā.ā
āOh no.ā His grin doesnāt fall, and it only makes your heart beat faster. āWe wouldnāt want thatā¦would we?ā
You quickly shake your head, and Miguel presses his lips together with further amusement, his eyes darting. āā¦cute.ā
You freeze. And Miguel seems to realise his small slip up, as his eyes grow a fraction wider. He had slipped up in English. Goddamn English. You understood.
But what he didnāt know was that you understood a lot more than just that word. And as the reason for your arrival to his room came back to you, the simple word ācuteā seemed to mean a whole lot, lot more.
ā EL TRATO (THE DEAL) miguel oāhara x fem!reader
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3.6k words
ā after the incident you wake up at HQ, with a note saying your hired status. with confusion you go to speak to miguel. along the way there and back you get your friends acting suspicious. miguel finally begins to accept that he wants to keep you close.
contains: mentions of injury; miguel be fantasising bout you guys; miguel makes you say spanish sentences that you donāt know the meaning of (i donāt think this is a warning but oh well); please also forgive if thereās any grammar/spelling mistakes (Iām tired af)
Your eyes slowly blink open, bright light invading your vision. At first you just lie there, no thoughts really occupying your brain.
As you go to sit up, having realised that you're lying on a bed, a hand suddenly rests on your shoulder. You turn to see Hobie. "Careful there, mate, wouldn't want ya knocking out again."
"What..." You drift off, brows furrowing as you rub your temples. "Knocked out...oh." Thoughts, or more so memories, begin to flood your brain. The different universe. Miles. The masked men. The running...and then...Miguel. You remember seeing Miguel, he had helped you, asking you to stay quiet.
You remember the instant feeling of relief when he had spoken, and then the droopy feeling of your exhausted body.
You go to swing your legs off the bed, as you gaze around the medical room. But Hobie keeps his hand on your shoulder. "You've gone through some stuff over the past couple days, take it easy."
"I'm alright...thank you." You nod, giving him a small smile. "Am I back at HQ?" Then you further mutter. "I thought he'd send me home."
"Yeah, me too...but maybe your act of defiance changed his mind." Hobie chuckles.
You go to shake my head. "I didn't mean t-"
"Mean to go, yeah don't worry we knew not long after you disappeared." Hobie interrupts.
You nod, but then your brows begin to furrow. "Wait, how did you know?"
"Miguel actually found out. He got pissed you left a day early. Thanks for that, by the way." Hobie nudges your shoulder gently.
You softly chuckle, though your thoughtful expression stays. "How'd he found out? I could've just gone home. I planned to just go home."
"I think he went to your universe." Hobie says, a sly grin forming.
You stare at him. "Why? To tell me I should have worked that day?"
Hobie shrugs. "Maybe."
You shift your body, so that you're somewhat facing him more. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Hm?" Hobie hums, acting innocent.
"Hobie don't have that expression if you're gonna stay silent." You wave your finger in front of his face.
Hobie stands, putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you're talking about, y/n."
"Hobie."
But he's already walking out he door. "Oh." He pokes his head back in. "There's some lunch on that table there. Be grateful I didn't eat it."
;;
You stare at the note in your hand. It read 'You're not fired as of Tuesday'.
"Peter, hey. Have you seen Miguel?" You ask as Peter nears you, your hand now scrunching around the note. Another god forsaken note.
"Y/n, hey. Glad to see you look less pale." Peter smiles, but you're persistent.
"Apparently I'm not fired?"
"You got your job back, nice." Peter at first doesn't notice your blatant narrowed gaze. But when he does, his smile turns to a frown of confusion. "You don't seem happy about that."
"I'm confused. Is he bipolar or something?"
Peter tilts his head to the side. "Eh, wouldn't surprise me."
"I mean, not even a day ago he was wanting me gone. Not that much has happened to change his mind." You say.
"Actually a lot has happened."
"Yeah, but that stuff shouldn't change his decision about me working here."
Peter shrugs. "Maybe it did."
"Your elaboration there is great, Peter, thanks." Your sarcasm is clear.
Peter smiles, fixing the spider beanie on Mayday's head, as she babbles on about something. "Go talk to him. Most of the time I can't read him, so I wouldn't have a clue."
"That's why I'm trying to find him." You say, to which Peter answers with "I think I saw him heading to the top floor."
And so you make your way to the stairs to heaven (hell). You had just walked down them in an effort to find Miguel, now you were walking up them...in an effort to find Miguel. This fact only seemed make you even more annoyed with him.
Great, you got your job back, but at this point you needed to know why. You needed to know what made him change his mind that quickly. Nothing else ever has. Miguel has always been one to make final decisions, with not much there to sway him.
You think back to Miguelās reasoning for his initial firing, as you walk up the steps. It was because of the attack. So why would he re-hire you because of another one? Or more so because of the same masked men who had attacked. Were they even the reason?
Does Miguel think you know something, and is wanting you back to tell him? Noāyou think to yourself. He wouldnāt re-hire you for that simple reason.
When you reach the top, your gaze gets caught up in a decision of what direction to take. None of his offices were up here. The only place you can think that Miguel would go is his room.
But you pause in front of his door. Did you really want to go in there? Heās clearly not working if is in there. God, but you had too many unanswered questions, so you knock.
Itās silent for a moment, besides your breathing and the distant chatter of spider-people. You go to knock again, but the door creaks open. Itās darker inside, the dim lighting reminding you of one of his past requests. You can remember the feel of his broad shoulders when giving him that massage. The small groans he would let slip.
You had pushed aside that memory, not liking the way it made your entire body buzz. āMiguel?ā
Then he opens the door wider, staring down at you. His position was surprisingly relaxed, one arm leant against the doorframe, as he wore those monotoned clothes that brought out his red eyes.
Speaking of those red eyes, you caught them scanning your body, a little too slowly and for a little too long. You gulp, not meaning to come across so nervous.
You hold up the severely scrunched up note. Miguel shifts his gaze to it. āI see you decided to take your annoyance out on that this time.ā He comments.
You narrow your eyes. āWhy am I not fired?ā
āI thought youād be happy to see that note.ā He says, relaxing more against the doorframe.
āNo. Iām not happy to see any note.ā You say, lowering your arm. āWhy couldnāt you just tell me in person?ā
āBecause I wanted to avoid this.ā He gestures to you in general.
āYou canāt expect me not to be a little curious at the sudden change of heart.ā You say, trying not to let your gaze drift down his body. When he had shifted his shirt rose a fraction, letting you see part of his hips and abs.
Of course he had abs. You werenāt blind to how built he was, but the small visual still seemed to make you blink too many times and your brain re-wire.
āYou donāt need to be curious.ā Miguel states, his tongue running along his fang as if he were bored, but the expression in his eyes begged to differ.
āBut I am.ā You say, tucking the note in your back pocket. āLook, itās beneficial for you if I know the reason. Then I can work on what made you want to fire me and continue doing what made you re-hire me.ā
āDonāt do what made me re-hire you.ā Miguel quickly answers.
Your brows furrow. āYouāre saying that like what I did was badā¦Why would you hire me for something you donāt want me to do again?ā
āYou ask a lot of questions, you know that?ā
āDonāt worry, I have a lot more in my head for you.ā You smile.
Miguel shakes his head, looking away with a clench to his jaw. The tiniest of smiles edged the corner of his mouth, but with his turned away head you werenāt able to catch it. And when he glanced back it was gone.
āCanāt I do something without being questioned?ā Miguel asks. āI mean, you got your job back, you should be happyā¦and any other sparkly emotion.ā
āYou should use those āsparkly emotionsā more often, OāHara. You know people who can lead with positivity usually get more people on their side.ā You tilt your head with a raise to your brow.
āYou do realise going off track isnāt gonna make me tell you anything.ā Miguel says.
Your smile falls as you press your lips together with a sigh. Miguel darts his gaze up your form again, checking your injuries. Your ankle was only partially sprained so no cast was needed, but his gaze kept on getting caught up on the small cuts that littered your body. Some faint, some more prominent, like the one on your bottom lip.
Before he knows it heās grabbing a belt loop of your pants, pulling you slightly closer as he tilts your head how he wants. Your eyes widen at the action as your heart begins to pick a quicker pace. Two of his fingers stay under your chinākeeping your head tilted upāwhile his thumb hovers over your cut lip, his gaze narrowed in inspection.
āYou should make sure that that doesnāt get infected.ā He says in a whisper.
You scoff, though it comes out softer than intended, you having to gulp immediately after. You had been rightāhaving him this close was going to give you a heart attack. āThatās rich coming from you.ā Your voice has turned to a mere whisper also.
āYou keep seeming to forget that youāre only human.ā He mutters. āWeak.ā
āYou forgot annoying.ā You mutter back. Miguel meets your gaze and you freeze. He was close. Too close. Because your mind was beginning to fog over as you stared at Miguelās intrigued eyes.
Then suddenly he says āWeāll continue our Spanish lessons in a few hours.ā
āI donāt think thatās necessary anymore.ā You say, to which his eyes narrow, his hold still keeping your head tilted up.
āReally?ā He sounds disbelieving. āSo, you manage to say one Spanish sentence, and thatās it? youāre done?ā He tilts his head his eyes darting. āI thought you were more determined than that.ā
You narrow your eyes in turn. āAnd I learnt that sentence from my phone. So, yes, I think Iām fine.ā
A small sneering smirk began to curve his lips. āI thought I took your phone.ā
Your mouth opens and closes. āIā¦got a new one.ā
āOrā¦you stole it back.ā He counters, raising a brow.
āItās easier this way. I donāt have to bother you with lessons.ā
āBut I liked getting something in return.ā He answers smoothly.
āYou were asking for things anyone could do.ā You say.
āBut Iād have to pay for someone to give me a massage.ā He mocks sadness. āWhen you were there being oh so nice and generous.ā
āI wasnāt being generous. It was apart of the deal.ā
āAnd it still is.ā
āNo. You firing me, got rid of the deal altogether.ā You say, moving to step away, wanting to breath in air that wasnāt getting mixed in with his.
But he pulls you back, tightening his hold on your chin a fraction, one of his fingers dragging to rest on the in-between of your jaw and neck.
āBut I re-hired you, which means the dealās back on.ā
āWhat if I say no to the job?ā You suddenly ask.
āChaparrita, youāre not gonna say no.ā
And you hated the fact that he was right. No matter what people said you did like this job, being around all these spider variants. It settled for an interesting life.
Miguelās fingerāthat rested by your jawāstarted to subtly caress back and forth. It had soon grown into a habit of his, when he got the chance to touch you.
There was almost something soothing about it for him. Being able to feel your soft skin against his claws, that he would usually only use for violence. A contradiction that silently said to him āNot everything about you is violent. Not everything has to beā.
And those words only seemed to come up in your presence. At first he had been annoyed by them and that fact. He doesnāt have time or the energy for āfeelingsā and such. He had to stay focused.
But overāespeciallyāthe past few days his annoyance had fizzled away, slowly but surely. Shifting to a feeling that he much preferred, one that made his body buzz with heat. And of courseāonly in your presence.
So, yes, maybe he did re-hire you so that the masked men wouldnāt be able to find you in your home, but maybe it was also for selfish reasons. Not liking the idea of not seeing you, even if his scowl was still present.
He liked being around you, even just listening to you talk. It all still confused him, but he finally recognised his want for you to stay. To make him feel settled, calm even.
At the end of the day, both his āreasonsā for re-hiring you are selfish and he knows it. He wants you close and in his line of vision, and he was going to make sure things stayed that way.
āAlright.ā You say, finally agreeing to continuing this deal with Miguel. āBut please donāt make me run around endlessly.ā
āHave I been?ā He shakes his head for you. āNo. Iāve only given you easy tasks.ā
You donāt why he has but you are definitely grateful. āDonāt use your phone again.ā He suddenly says.
āMany people use phones for different thināā
Miguel cuts in, sparing you an annoyed look. āFor Spanish lessons.ā
You finally manage to step back, holding in your sigh of relief until you were alone. Miguel watched you intently, catching onto the way your hand began to fiddle nervously with the very same belt loop he had been holding onto.
āIāll uhā¦see you in a few hours then.ā You say, beginning to step backwards down the hallway. āIn the tech room?ā
Miguel shakes his head. āItās still being repaired. Just come back to my room.ā
You ignore the flutter in your stomach, as you nod. āSee you then.ā Then you swiftly turn and head towards the stairs.
Miguel watches you go, his lips curving up into an easy smile.
;;
A few hours laterāthose hours having been filled with back and forth thoughtsāyou were walking past all the different spider variants, heading towards Miguelās room.
You narrowed your feelings down to nervousness, having gone in a roundabout of thinking āitās fineā āIāll be fineā to āim starting to sweatā āwhy the hell am I starting to sweat?!ā
āY/n!ā A voice stopped you, and you turn to see Miles, Gwen and Hobie.
āMiles.ā You smile. āSo sorry for practically leaving you back there.ā You did feel bad.
āPlease donāt. I would have told you to run anyway. Those men were scary.ā He made a face which made you chuckle. āThey had likeā¦.real large claws.ā
āYeahā¦would much prefer never to see them again.ā You half chuckle.
āHow are you?ā Gwen asks, taking her hood off.
You nod. āGood. Better. Yeahā¦a lot better.ā You glance down at your ankle. āWish I wasnāt so accident prone though.ā
āNah.ā Hobie begins, swinging his arm around your shoulder. āYou jusā have a running theme of beinā in the wrong place at the wrong time.ā
āThat makes me feel so much better.ā You scoff.
āWhere are you headed anyway?ā Hobie asks you.
āOh, just to Miguelāsāā you pause. You were gonna say āMiguelās bedroomā but then realised how strange that would sound. āTo speak to Miguel.ā
āI thought you already did?ā Gwen asks, brushing her hair from her eyes.
āYesā¦butā¦we have more to discuss.ā You nod.
āLike what? Does he want to talk to you about his strange display of worry the other day?ā Hobie asks with a sly smirk.
You glance at him, brows furrowing. āCoz that donāt really sound like him.ā Hobie continues.
āYouāre doing that face again.ā You say, narrowing your eyes.
āAm I?ā He again prays innocence.
āYeah, you are. And itās beyond annoying.ā
āJusā like I thought he found you.ā Hobie mutters almost smugly.
āWhat?ā
In response Hobie just smiles at you, putting his hands in his pockets. You shift your gaze to Gwen, who is looking away.
āWhy are you guys acting so suspicious?ā You ask.
āWe just find itā¦strange is all.ā Gwen says.
āFind what strange?ā
āWellā¦Miguel was the one to bring you inā¦which isnāt strange, but it was just the way he was acting.ā Gwen begins, making your brows furrow further.
āIām not following.ā You say slowly.
āHe didnāt really let any of the doctors touch you up.ā Gwen continues.
āThen howā¦.?ā Youāre confused. Because you had woken up with clean cuts and a fixed ankle.
āAy, what are we all talking about, you guys?ā Pav appears, swinging down from a different ceiling path.
āJusā about Miguelās strange actions in medical.ā Hobie says.
āOh yeah!ā Pav nods quickly. āHe was acting really different. Wouldnāt let anyone near you, y/n.ā He gestures to you, to which you raise your brows in disbelief. Then Pav chuckles. āIt was almost like he wasāā
But Gwen cuts him quickly. āHe was just acting different. Thatās all.ā Gwen spares Pavitr a small glare.
āOkayyy.ā You drag out, eyeing them all again. āRight now Miles is the only one seeming to be acting normal. Which I appreciate.ā You had begun to back up down the path. Miles spares you a small smile in response.
As you begin to head to Miguelās room, their words circled your head. What did they mean by ādidnāt let the doctors touch you upā or ādidnāt let anyone near youā. Theyāre rightāthat is different from Miguel. So far different that you just canāt seem to believe it.
Maybe they were playing some prank. But even though you can see Hobie and Pav coming up with that joke, you canāt see Gwen getting in on it.
But those thoughts soon drift away as you near Miguelās door again. You knock, feeling your palms increase in sweat.
Miguel opens the door. Upon seeing you he tilts his head, asking for you to come inside. You do, slipping past him and into the cozy, dim room.
āI hope youāve come up with some helpful phrases.ā You say turning to him. āBecause I gave up my phone for this.ā
Miguel pulls out a desk chair, taking a seat. You look around, seeing no other chair to occupy. āUse my bed.ā He says, gesturing to his ruffled sheets.
You turn your gaze to it, holding down the small hitch of your breath. Why was it hitching? It was just a bed.
You walk over, carefully taking a seat at the edge, facing an already seated Miguel. āAnd yes, I am better than your phone.ā He says, meeting your gaze.
āYou sure?ā You question. āMy phone is pretty helpful.ā
āAnd youāre saying Iām not?ā Miguel asks with a small tilt his head. āThat hurts.ā His dry humour was something that had grown on you. Whether you liked it or not.
āQuiero ir a la feria.ā It was a simple beginner question that you repeated effortlessly.
āQuiero ir a la feria.ā
āIt means āI want to go to the fairā.ā Miguel explains.
After a few more simple sentences, a idea pops up in Miguelās head. He probably shouldnāt execute it, but of course he still will.
āMe encantarĆa usar tu cama para otras cosas.ā Miguel says, waiting for you to repeat it.
āMe encantarĆa usar tu cama para otras cosas.ā You repeat, your flow having gotten a lot better.
Miguelās breathing hitches upon hearing the words. You had assumed he got you to say something simple, along the lines of āI am a farmer who plants treesā. But he instead made you say āIād love to use your bed for other thingsā.
And Miguel should probably stop and move on, but he doesnāt particularly want to. āĀæNo crees que me verĆa bonita atrapada entre tus sĆ”banas, Miguel?ā
āArenāt you gonna tell me what the other sentence means?ā You ask.
āRepeat it.ā Miguel doesnāt budge.
You sigh. āĀæNo crees que me verĆa bonita atrapada entre tus sĆ”banas, Miguel?ā (Donāt you think Iād look pretty trapped in your sheets, Miguel?) You tilt your head, staring at him. All you know is that you asked him a question, but thatās about it.
Miguel breathes heavier, giving you a once over. āTan bonito.ā (So pretty.) He murmers.
āDo you want me to repeat that too?ā You ask.
Miguel chuckles. āThatās fine.ā Your words staying trapped in Miguelās brain, seeming to repeatā¦over and over.
Miguelās gaze kept flicking to your lips. Conflicting emotions resided behind this action. He could see your cut, which reminded him of the fact that you got dragged into a mess you didnāt particularly ask for, resulting in you getting injured and down right hunted.
The other emotion veered closer to his reasoning for getting you to say those sentences. He wanted to feel them. Lean closerā¦and see what they felt like. Maybe he wanted to soothe your cut with his tongueā¦
āMiguel? Are you gonna tell me what I just said?ā You ask, leaning closer to get his attention.
Miguel meets your gaze. āIāll let you try and figure it out.ā
āThatās not very good teaching.ā You mutter.
He just shrugs. āThen I guess youāll never know.ā
āAnd donāt translate it on your phone.ā Miguel says pointedly. āThat would make you a bad student.ā
You clench your jaw but nod. āFineā¦ā your gaze shifts to the window, seeing the dark sky.
You quickly stand. āI didnāt realise it was this late. I should go.ā You begin to head to the door.
Miguel watches your every movement, until you glance back giving him a small nod. āThanks for somewhat of a good lesson.ā
Miguel just hums with a nod, as you turn shutting the door and leaving. Leaving Miguel to gaze back at his bed and where you were seated.
He had already begun to decide on what he wants in return.
ok, this post isnāt letting me add the colours and now Iām sad
this part was a little less action, coz i wanted focus more on miguelās fEeLiNgS. coz boy does he have them
Summary/request : Jason todd x shy chubby reader (kinda) soft smut? (reader have a praise kink and likes nipple play)
warnings: summary is pretty self-explanatory, SMUT MINORS DNI, pretty much pwp
***
Early mornings right before work was arguably the worst moment for getting close, but Jason Todd was never the one to stick to basic rules of behavior. After all, who would dare to tell him when to or when not to devour his precious girl? Nights were off limits since he was patrolling, so the only time left was in fact early hours.
And he was going to use the opportunity the second he felt Y/N stir in his embrace. Her soft, warm, plump body being so perfect, already responding to his touches and caresses. Trembling slightly when he slid one hands under her sleeping T-shirt and traced patterns on the bared skin.
āMhmmm.ā She mumbled groggily, squirming against him, his arms trying to keep her in place and pulling her closer instead of letting go. āwhat time is it?ā
āIāll let you guessā he chucked, kissing her exposed shoulder from behind, soft lips moving towards girlās neck, making her lean into him. āHow is that for an answer?ā he muttered against her skin.
āJayā¦.Iāll be late.ā She tried to object, slightest blush creeping in on her face. She was so shy it was actually making him want her even more. No way in hell he was going to let her go without proper good morning.
āNo, you wonāt.ā he teased, not stopping worshiping her.
āHow so?ā she whined lightly when he started rubbing circles on her waist, getting so annoyingly close to the waistband of her pants.
āI might have shifted your alarm clock to get some extra time with you.ā
āReally?ā she turned around facing him, her eyes still a bit blurry from the sleep āarenāt you a little bit too tricky, Todd?ā
āGotta keep up with my little vixen.ā He smirked and before she realized what was happening pushed her onto her back hovering over her with glistening eyes. āYou are mine, you know that?ā
āJaceā¦..ā she squealed, trying to make her voice stern and warning, but was way to desperate and needy to pull this off. She was always needy for him, even if it was always hard to admit. āPlease, donāt do thisā¦..ā
āYouāre not really convincing, baby.ā He smirked again putting his lips on hers, briefly, almost imperceptibly, leaving her wanting, exposing her true need and want.
āI have to ā¦..ā
āNonsense, princess. Your only job is staying with me and letting me please you.ā
āButā¦.ā Her face reddened even more than before, her chest heaving.
āDo you really want me to stop?ā he reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up a few centimeters, her skin immediately corresponding with goosebumps. (how was it possible that no matter the weather, morning in this apartment were always cold?). āJust say the word if you doā he teased, moving to nibble on the skin of her neck, finding her soft spot and eliciting a whine. āAnytime now.ā
āNot going to.ā With one swift motion he pulled her shirt off completely, eyes blown with lust at the view underneath him. Those perfect breast, soft, round, belly, the curve of her waist and ass, and most importantly, her miraculous thick thighs. Ā So fucking perfect. āAre you cold, baby?ā he cooed, running fingers over her shivering skin. Ā
āSo fucking coldā¦.ā She gasped, locking arms on his neck and pulling him for a kiss, shyness aside, the crave of his warmth and his body finally winning the fight. āIām freezing, Jason.ā
āI can help with that.ā His hands moved toward her waist, lips never leaving hers, not needing air, breath, nothing. She was his everything, everything he could possibly need.
āJason.ā she pushed him away slightly, resting hands on his chest and avoiding his gaze, too flustered to voice what and where she wanted. And this time he did not force her to look up when she whispered āI need your mouth elsewhere.ā
āReally?ā He licked said lips in a predatory motion ācare to elaborate on that, baby?ā
āStop teasing me. Youā¦ you know what I mean.ā
āI live on teasing you.ā he let out a laugh, but obediently bowed his head, aiming at her breast. Fuck, those perfect, plump breast, that fit perfectly in his hands. So soft, the sensation of her skin incomparable with anything else. āSo tell me.ā He massaged both of her tits at the same time and his cock throbbed as he watched her arch her back into his touch and whimper ādoes this feel good?ā
āSo good, Jace. Pleaseā¦. Iā¦.. I want moreā¦ā
āReally? More? Like what?ā
āJason! Please!ā she squirmed and let out a whimper. A fucking whimper. If she wasnāt doing it involuntarily he would probably have more strength to torture her a bit more, but it was completely unintentional and he crumbled.
āAll right baby, all right. Fuck, I love when you are begging for me. Makes me look less desperate myself.ā
āUse those mouths for something useful for fuckās sake!ā
āOh, not so timid anymore, are you?ā
Jason grinned wildly and finally put them on her right breast, kissing all over and biting lightly, soothing the mark with the tiniest, kitten lick move of his tongue. Avoiding the nipple, obviously, since that was the best part and he was going to safe it for the end. A perfect feast topped out by the perfect dessert.
āSo sweetā¦.ā He whined grabbing the other breast and squeezing it. āso good for me, arenāt you?ā Y/Nās hand tangled in his messy hair, guidingĀ his head where she needed most and this time he did not object, sucking lightly on that sensitive rose bud. At this point he himself could not hold back a groan. She was the one who liked nipple play, but the truth was, Jason enjoyed it even more. Just a simple thought that he was the one to satisfy her and make all her dream and wildest fantasies come true was doing things to him. āsuch a good girl.ā He muttered incoherently keeping on devouring her, slowly moving to the other breast, neglected and forgotten and repeating his actions. Such simple gestures and she was already falling apart, tugging on his hair.
āso good Jace, keep going, please.ā
āI thought you were hurrying to work?ā he mocked
āI thought you reset my alarm?ā she retorted, panting, distracted by his movements, now enriched by grinding against her body
āNow that I think about I come to the conclusion that should have reserved a bit more time for my baby. Do you need me?ā
āYes!ā
āHow much? Is it as much as I need you, princess?ā
āYES!ā
āShow me.ā
Show me!? He was pinning her to bed, putting on his weight on her and she was supposed to show him? How?!
āOh, Iāll show you.ā she squirmed a bit, freeing one of her hands and putting it on the tent in his pants āsomeoneās excited.ā She whispered into his ear, biting on his earlobe, palming the erection and making him grind against her more. āLet me take those off.ā she begged
āOnly if you let me undress you fully too.ā
āDo it now. I need you Jason. I want you. Inside me. Now.ā
āFuck!ā he hissed, almost tearing her pants, exposing her to him completely āyou are so perfect. So fucking perfectā he grabbed her waist pressing his clothed cock into her, kissing her hungrily, desperately, completely overwhelmed by the feel of her underneath him. Due to all the sensation he was giving her, she completely forgot she was about to free him as well. Y/N just melted into his touch, not giving a fuck about anything but him.
ātake those off. I want you whole, Jace. Pleaseā¦ā she commanded and he threw his jeans away, their bodies pressed together fully, caressing each otherās body, exploring, wandering in all the possible places still craving more. It wasnāt nearly as close as they needed. āIām so wet for you. Use it. Take me, Jason.ā
āI love you.ā he panted pushing inside, filling her fully.Ā āgod, so good. So good. All mine. Tell me youāre mine. Please, I need to hear you say it. Youāre my girl. Only mine.ā
āI am.ā she held him tighter, legs wrapping around his waist ālove me, Jace. I just need you. Itās good. You can move.ā
āHow do you want me today, princess?ā he nibbled on the skin of her neck, barely holding back from going all in, but still waiting for the answer.
āGentle. I want to feel you close.ā
āYou have me.ā He slowly started pulling in and out. There was no rush in it. No fucking, no animalistic sex and lustful need. It was emotional and sensual. Jason was focused on each moan and whine coming from her, each spasm of her body against his, on the way she picked up the pace he set. It was love making rather than just sex. Perfect expression and display of how much they loved each other on so many different levels in ways words could never describe.
āJasonā¦ā she panted, nails clawing on his back, wordlessly showing him how close she was.
āIām here, baby. I got you.ā he pushed a bit harder into her, getting another string of her sweet sounds āCome for me. I know you are close. Just let go. Youāre safe with me. So good, so perfect.ā his thumbs brushed her pebbled nipples again and it was all he needed to finally reach orgasm.Ā
āJaceā¦.ā She panted, not letting go riding that high with him āI want to make you feel good too.ā
āYou sure, baby?ā
āLike of nothing else. Donāt hold it.ā
āFuck, you are just so perfect.ā he groaned, not able to control himself anymore, filling her with his cum, not letting go until his balls were completely empty, kissing her with all the passion he had until exhaustion took over and he pulled away. āIām yours, babyā he repeated with softer voice, laying on his back and guiding her on his chest, soothing her back, wanting nothing more than to keep her in the sheets forever, to never be parted with her ādo you really have to go?ā
āYeah. I do.ā She kissed his chest lightly. āBut I suddenly got some more motivation to get through the day.ā
āI wonder why.ā Jason smirked
āDonāt push it, lover boy.ā
āIām gonna miss you.ā
āGuess next time youāll set the clock even earlier.ā
āIf I were to say a thing you would never fall asleep again. I know how to keep you up all night, baby.ā
A/N: Today I'm gonna go see Little Mermaid again and then Spider-verse again with another friend. Today will be a great day.
Oh seeing you with little bite marks all over your smaller body is such a delight for Miguel, be it playful or otherwise
You always shiver against him either way
He likes to tease you by brushing his fangs against your sensitive neck or wrists to hear you gasping and make you want his touch more
Always bites your lips when kissing, just a little nibble so he can pull it towards him, pull you towards him that is
In public he will bite your fingers but only when he can hide it, for example you eating something sweet and him cleaning your fingers, then he will give just a little nibble on the very ends
Your ear, a very good target when he's behind you
Will deliberately yawn in your presence because he knows the mere sight of his sharp teeth can do wonderful things to you and get all kinds of noises from you
Tiny bit possessive because he always leaves just one bite in a visible place
Miguel loves to feel your breath hitch when he's got you pressed up underneath him, your chest rising and falling in quick succession as he slowly drags his fangs lower and lower to your thighs
He can apply a bit more pressure there because of the softer flesh
And if you squeeze your legs around his head in reflex he will laugh at you cause you're so damn sensitive for him when he uses his teeth on you
What would happen if he were to actually bite you, would you allow it, trust him enough to handle your body however he wants while you're paralyzed underneath his big, muscular body and only able to respond in tiny noises
Of course you would, just look at the way you're biting your lip, trying to resist that fantasy
Should he try it later tonight? But be warned, you need to tell him when you want to stop because he will go crazy on you if he sees you all helpless underneath him like that, looking so damn cute
He can hold your hands above your head easily, one hand around your wrists the other pulling your chin down so you don't even think of closing your mouth, denying him all your cute, sweet noises
ā EL TRATO (THE DEAL) miguel oāhara x fem!reader
step one step two step three step four step five
5.4k words
ā miguel gives you shocking news. and as you go to head home you end up in a different universe, meeting some spider kid, leaving miguel and the rest of them to worry and search for you.
contains: angst??; violence; speaking of injuries ā damn y/n is in the wars; cute little worried, mad miguel; since Iām going from y/nās perspective to Miguelās a few times itās may seem a bit jumpy, hope that doesnāt annoy anyone <3
You walk with purposeful steps. Passing by spider variants, who spare you confused glances at your almost pissed off expression. Though when one would meet your gaze youād smileāgenuinely, which made them think that a certain person was the target of your anger.
āOi y/nā wow.ā Hobie jumped down in front of you, observing your furrowed features. But yet again they would smooth out upon seeing a face you didnāt want to punch. Pavitr and Gwen were close, coming to stop beside Hobie.
āHi.ā You greet them.
āYou look stressed as hell.ā Hobie comments, making you forcibly chuckle.
āNot at all.ā You quickly say, before veering to pass them.
āYou alright, y/n?ā Gwen asks.
āI appreciate the concern. I do.ā You say, walking backwards. āBut Iām in a bit of a rush. And annoyingly this canāt wait.ā
āCareful!ā Pavitr warns as you quickly skirt past a table your hip almost hit.
āThank you!ā You shout back as you rush towards a certain office that made the lines return to your forehead.
You push open the door, stalking towards the centre of the room. At the outburst Miguel looks down. He looks away knowingly, upon seeing you and your angry expression.
āFired?!ā You exclaim up at him. He doesnāt spare you a glance, continuing to tap and swipe at different screens. āIām fired?!ā
You hold up a scribbled note that said āYouāre fired as of Tuesdayā.
āYou still have a day.ā Miguel comments calmly.
You scoff in disbelief. āWhat the hell did I do?! ā¦and can you come down here, itās very hard yelling like this!ā
Miguel sighs, but drops down in front of you. He looks bored. And that seems to piss you off more. You step closer. āYou wrote me a note?ā Youāre still in disbelief. āYou didnāt even add the reason.ā
āBelieve it or not that was purposeful.ā Miguel monotonously says.
You narrow your eyes. āWhy?ā You try to lower your tone, taking deep breathes.
Miguel just tilts his head, observing your antics. You blink. āSo, youāre not gonna tell me?ā
He doesnāt say a thing, confirming so. Youāre beyond annoyed and in all honesty what have you to lose? Youāve already lost your job, for a reason youāre dying to know and your adrenaline enduced veins seem to think that pressuring him is a smart idea.
You step closer, but realise that your āintimidatingā gaze is doing nothing, his towering height making you feel like an ant. You dart your gaze around, stopping on a swivel chair, you snatch it, quickly standing on it, so that youāre somewhat of a millimetre taller than him.
āWe made a deal.ā You say, finally feeling a little more in control now that Miguel is looking up at you.
āAnd now its over.ā
āThatās not how dealās work.ā You say.
āOh.ā Miguel hums. āThatās a shame.ā
Your nose twitches as you hold back a snarl. Miguel is an infuriating manāitās just that simple.
āIām not leaving, not until you at least give me a reason.ā You say, trying to appear threatening. But being in front of a man who looks it 24/7 is really dampening your confidence.
He continues to look up at you and your heaving chest, and face thatās tightened in annoyance. He sighs. āItās better this way, y/l/n.ā
āAnd why is that?ā You try again to get the āreasonā out of him.
āYou can go.ā He turns, beginning to head back. You stare after him, mouth opening in disbelief at his complete dismissal.
You go to get off the chair, feeling your entire being deflating. But your foot seems to miss the step down as you begin to tumble forward. But before you can hit the ground a web is attaching to your hand, and yanking you into a chest.
Miguelās breathing is displayed in that quick moving chest. One hand wrapped around your waist, while the otherāthat had shot the webāhas ahold of your wrist.
Your eyes are wide at the fast movement of it all. āYou want to know why youāre fired?ā Miguel begins. āBecause youāre accident prone. One trip and you could mess everything up.ā
You meet his gaze. āThatās very assumptive.ā You say. āYou and I both know that I havenāt āfuckedā anything up.ā
āYet.ā
āYet?ā Your brows furrow. āYouāre betting on a āyetā?ā You step away from him, getting your wrist out of his hold. āYou made a decision based on your own wrong assumptions.ā
Miguelās expression has finally changed, actually displaying an emotionāangerābut still an emotion. He grabs the bottom of your shirt, pulling you harshly back to him as his breath fans over your face.
āHow do you know my āassumptionsā are wrong? Huh?ā He snarls.
You glare up at him. āHow do you know theyāre right?ā His grip tightens around the material of your shirt, but you continue. āRight now, if you were to tell me that you hated my work ethic, or that I was genuinely shit at my job, Iād leaveāmaybe a bit upsetābut Iād understand.ā
Miguelās eyes are darting everywhere they can.
āBut youāre giving me nothing.ā Youāre blurting everything you can think to say. If not the job back, then youāre going to get your reason for it being gone. āJust say, you hate the way I work.ā
You stare at him. āPlease.ā Youāve somewhat calmed down. Your face softening to one close to simple pleading.
Miguel gulps, his chest slowing but his heart beating on overdrive. You were so close, looking up at him with a genuine pleading look. You just wanted closure.
His hand hadnāt let up its grip on your clothes, part of him not wanting to let go.
āI thought you said you had to have a reason to fire me.ā Your voice is back to your normal toneāone that always made Miguel feel comfortable, safe. Which is odd considering you wouldnāt be able to protect him or practically anyone here. Physically at least.
You sigh, realising that thereās no budging Miguel. Itās him, for crying out loud. You were stupid to think you could get anything out of him that he didnāt want you to know.
You reach your hand down, grabbing his wrist and pulling your shirt away. You back up, hands up in an almost surrenderāsaying āfine, Iāll goā.
Miguel doesnāt like the silent sentence for some reason, his expression morphing back to anger. He again swiftly shoots a web to attach to your stomach, yanking you forward again.
āCan you stop that?ā You ask, once youāre directly in front of him again. āAt this rate put a leash on me.ā You mutter. Youād given up. And all you wanted to do was pack up and leave. Why was he dragging this out?
āWould that work?ā He whispered. And now through your annoyed haze you noticed how close he wasā¦again.
But the drop of his tone made your breath hitch, different from before. He leans closer, red eyes fully focused on you. āWould it?ā He asks again.
āWould what?ā
He tilts his head, licking his lips. āA leash.ā
Your eyes widen, as you choke out your answer. āThat wasā¦a joke. I was kidding.ā
āBut would you stay out of trouble if you had something constricting you?ā
Your mouth opens and closes. He had slowly been pulling you closer by the attached web, his claws dancing across the orange before they reached the material of your shirt again.
āEs eso todo lo que tengo que hacer, chaparrita?ā (Is that all I have to do) He darkly whispered.
You focused on his words. You had wanted to understand Spanish before, but now youāre dying to know. And luckily, in your own time you had been studyingāhaving stolen your phone back.
āNo, Oāhara.ā You begin. āTodo lo que tienes que hacer es ser honesto.ā (All you have to do is be honest.)
Miguel stares at you, brows furrowing for only a moment. He looks taken aback. And from his underlying impressive expression, you know your words had made sense.
āWhen did you learn that?ā
āWhy are you firing me?ā You counter.
And for once, Miguel finally gives in, up to a peak with his emotions. āBecause of the fucking attack!ā He finally says it, or more so āexclaimsā it.
You pause. āThe attack?ā
He hisses in annoyance at himself. āIām supposed to be helping peopleāthe multiverse. That was the whole point of this.ā He mutters out.
āIām not followingā¦ How did I mess that up?ā You ask, staring at him in confusion.
āYou didnāt. Which is beyond annoying, because Iād much rather a reason where you were the problem.ā
āThatāsā¦very flattering.ā You mutter, as he continues.
āBut the reason why Iām firing you is becauseā¦ā he clenched his jaw, closing his eyes for a moment, seeming annoyed to even think of saying it.
āBecause you gotā¦hurt.ā
And of course it goes in one ear and out the other. Because in what universe does that make sense. You stare at him, blinking too many times.
āWhat?ā
āIām not saying it again.ā He says, stepping away from you.
āNo, no. What?ā
Miguel is turned away and cursing at himself. Why did he admit that? He should have just said you were shit at your job.
You finally assess his words, maybe not the underlying meaning, but his general words at least. āIāll be honestā¦ā you begin. āI thought that was in the job description.ā
Miguel turns. āWhat?ā
āGetting hurt.ā You say. āI mean maybe not that extreme considering Iām behind a desk, but I knew the risk.ā
āYou knew you might get hurt if you took this job?ā He reiterates.
āYeah.ā You breathe. āBut youād understand. I mean you are spider-man.ā
āYeahā¦ā he drifts off. āBut youāreā¦ā
āA weak human?ā You ask.
He looks away, frowning. āI didnāt mean that.ā
āItās fine.ā You say. āI canāt lie and say it isnāt the truth.ā
āItās notāā he says extremely quickly before he extremely quickly follows with: āāentirely true. Youāre also annoying.ā
You raise your brows. āSo, Iām an annoying, weak human who just got fired?ā You slowly ask.
Miguel presses his lips together. āItās betāā
āBetter this way.ā You cut in. āYeah, I heard you.ā You sigh. āThanks for telling me the reason.ā Your tone has shifted to one Miguel really doesnāt like. You soundā¦disappointedā¦distant. And why wouldnāt you be? Of course Miguel expected this but for some reason it just didnāt settle right in his stomach.
But before he knows it youāre opening the exit door, giving him a small smile and a nod, saying: āSorry for theā¦outburst.ā Before youāre shutting the door and leaving.
;;
āWhere is she?ā Miguel is asking Peter, thankful for once that he didnāt bring Mayday.
Peter scratches the back of his head, pretending to look busy. Miguel begrudgingly turns to Hobie, raising a brow. Hobie looks him up and down before scoffing. āYouāre the one who āfiredā her, remember mate?ā He sounds annoyed.
Miguel swiftly shifts his gaze to Gwen. āShe still has a day. Where is she?ā
āShe decided it was best to leave today.ā Gwen says.
āHowād she get a wristband?ā Miguel asks, narrowing his eyes. He slowly shifts his gaze back to Hobie, who is sitting, legs up on a table.
āHobie.ā
āYes, boss?ā Hobie asks, praying innocence.
āWhy?ā Miguel asks, gritting his teeth.
Hobie stands, walking up to him. āWhy do you care? Ya clearly seem to think sheās an annoyinā, weak human.ā
Miguel holds the bridge of his nose. āDid she tell everyone that?ā He mutters out in question, more so to himself.
āNo, she didnāt. I āappened to hear it.ā Hobie says, making Miguel look back up.
āSo she just left?ā He asks, his uninterested expression cracking a fractionāonly a fraction.
āThat is what you wanted.ā Pavitr chimes in, twisting one of his gold bands.
;;
Miguel breathes, heading back to his office. Once inside he taps his wristband, opening up a portal. He pauses. Why was he even going? Youāre gone, home, safe. Just like he wanted. Why is he messing that up by seeing you?
But heās already through the portal arriving outside your door. You lived alone so he didnāt have to worry about scaring your family. He knocks on your bedroom door, and waits. And waits. And waits.
Look, patience isnāt something Miguel is very good at, so he twists the handle, opening the door to your room. He narrows his eyes, seeing you not inside. Sure, you could have easily gone out, but as he scouted the room, he began to realise that you hadnāt been in here for a while. Dust had formed on your desk, while your bed stayed untouched and made.
āLyla.ā He calls, her appearing quickly by his shoulder. āWas y/n here?ā
Lyla computes the room, scanning for footprints or any of your fresh DNA. āNo. She hasnāt been here for a while.ā
Miguel goes to turn back to his portal, when he steps on something. Looking down, he sees a bracelet by the very edge of the door. Picking it up, he asks Lyla again.
āAh, she was here, recently. Only in the doorway, it seems.ā She answers.
Miguel goes to pocket the bracelet but realises that he technically doesnāt have any, so he instead puts the bracelet around his wrist, walking back through the portal.
;;
āWhat?ā Peter voices his surprise. āBut she was just heading home. Sheās not there? And hold up, why did you goāā
āHobie what wristband did you give her?ā Miguel interrupts, turning to Hobie. āOne of your faulty ones?ā
Hobie rolls his eyes, swinging his guitar strap around his body. āIt was a normal one, a spare I found.ā
āAnd youāre sure sheās not just out?ā Gwen checks.
āNo, Iām not, Gwen.ā Miguel sarcastically states. āYou really think I didnāt check?ā
āDo you think she could have gone to another universe?ā Pavitr asks.
āWhy would she do that?ā Peter asks, brows furrowed.
āDunno, maybe she wanted to rebele.ā Hobie comments. āWouldnāt blame her.ā He shoots this at Miguel, who narrows his eyes.
āI called you all here to find her.ā Miguel says. āYou seem to have been around her a lot. Youād have more of an idea then any other spiders.ā
;;
While the spider-men and woman were all wondering where you had went, you were wondering the exact same thing.
You had been walking down the street, trying to face any form of familiarity. But nothing stands out. This wasnāt your home. This wasnāt your universe.
You keep touching your wrist in hopes to magically find the wristband there, but no, itās still gone. Where? You wanted to know that too.
You watched as people chatted and ate, many at the cityās cafes and restaurants. It was growing darker and as you looked up you felt a single drop of water land on your cheek.
You manage to reach a bus shelter, taking a seat. Where the hell were you?
āMiles!ā A manās voice calls.
āIāll be back, dad! I justā¦forgot somethingā¦at school!ā Miles answers.
You shift your gaze from the falling sky to a cop and his assumable son, who is rushing down the street. You go to shift your gaze away again when you catch sight of something falling out of the kidās bag. Narrowing your eyes you just catch what looks to be a spider-man mask, before Miles is quickly shoving it back in.
You then hear a ruckus some way down the street. A shopā¦being robbed. Then it clicked. This āMilesā was running to the scene, because he was this universeās spider-man.
You quickly stood, covering your head with your hands, preventing some of the rain from soaking your hair as you rushed to follow. Maybe this spider-man was apart of the spider society, and had a wristband. Whatever the outcome, you felt better that you had somewhat of a plan.
;;
When you reached the shop you chose to wait outside, knowing it not smart to just run into danger.
The fight is finished rather quickly, with a few broken windows and thrown food, but no one from the looks of it got hurt.
And as you began to follow Milesāhaving spotted him heading to an alleywayāyou realise how creepy you would seem just following this kid who doesnāt know who the hell you are. But itās too late to backtrack because heās swiftly turning and shooting a web to attach your hand to the concrete wall.
You gasp in shock as the kid quickly runs up. āIām sorry, I thought you wereāā
āAn evil dude, yeah donāt worry I started to think so too.ā You chuckle, slowing your breathing. Your hand had smacked pretty hard against the wall, and as Miles cuts the web you realise that your hand is partially red and bruised.
āShā I am so sorry.ā He said, spotting the slight injury too.
You wave him off. āThatās alright. Iā¦uh needed to ask you something.ā
Miles stands straighter, probably expecting you to point him in the direction of more danger. āYou are the spider-man of this universe, right?ā
Miles pauses. āWait, you knowāā he shuffled closer, whispering. āYou know about the other universes?ā
You nod. āI was wondering if you had a wristband.ā
āA wristband?ā Milesā confusion makes you deflate.
āSo you donāt know about thatā¦ā you sigh, your plan dissolving away.
āKnow about what?ā
You smile. āThatās alright.ā
You begin to step back out of the alleyway, placing your hands in your jacket pocket. āNice job, by the way.ā you gesture to the hung up robber.
āThanks.ā Mikeās shrugs, still looking thoughtful.
But as you near the street, you suddenly glitch, hitting against the wall, hissing in pain. Shit, or course. You were in a different universeā¦without a wristband.
Miles quickly reaches your side. āYouāre not from here.ā He mutters. He then loops his arm around your midriff, your body continuing to slightly glitch. āJeez, I didnāt think that would hurt as much.ā You mutter.
Miles brings you back into the alleyway, resting you against the wall. āWhat universe are you from?ā
ā14āā you glitch. Then finally you stop, resting your head against the wall.
Miles kneels by you, still deep in thought. āWould you know a girl named Gwen?ā He suddenly asks. Almost as if he had been waiting to ask someone this exact question.
You quickly meet his gazeāthrough the mask, of course. āYou know Gwen?ā You ask
āYou know Gwen?ā He repeats back.
āYeah, sheās apart of the spider society.ā
āThe spider what?ā Miles asks.
But you continue. āHow do you know her? Wait.ā You pause. āYouāre Miles right?ā You double check, not wanting to seem creepy and stalker-like.
āYeahā¦ā he drifts off.
āShe spoke about you.ā You smile. āA lot, actually.ā
Miles decided on taking his mask off, either deciding on it being fine for you to see, or knowing that you must know what he looks like already. You can spot a faint blush on his cheeks at the mention of Gwen mentioning him.
āHow did you get here?ā He asks.
āIt had to have been from the wristband.ā You mutter. Before speaking louder for Miles. āThereās these wristbands that can transport you to different universes without all this glitchy mess.ā
āWow. Do you have one now?ā He asks, looking to your wrist.
You shake your head. āSomehow I lost mine. And to be honest, I didnāt plan on coming here. I meant to go home.ā You then get reminded of the fact that you got fired, and you mentally narrow your gaze at a non existent Miguel.
His reason still didnāt make sense to you. But you did get one. And you werenāt one to backtrack on your word, leaving like you had said.
āIāve helped send a few spiderā¦people back to their universes.ā Miles begins. āBut that was using something kingpināthis villain, created.ā
You rest your head back against the concrete wall, the rain growing louder and louder, and heavier and heavier. āHow are you gonna get home?ā Miles asks.
You sigh. āIām really not sure.ā
;;
Miguel has gotten Lyla to try and retrace your steps through the different universes. But thereās a lot. So, even though itās been a few hours sheās found nothing as of yet.
Miguel didnāt know how to feel about the two different options of your disappearance. You could have either gone on your ownāchosen to, like Hobie had said. Why you would ever do that, Miguel would love to know. But would that make it his fault if something happened?
He knew you loved your job. And he had fired you, for selfish reasons that he covered up with, it being āin your best interestā. To Miguel it was, but you wouldnāt see it that way. Heās sure you donāt.
But then thereās the alternative that you had gotten taken. Miguel barely dove into that theory, his hands turning to fists so tight that he cut the skin of his palms through his suit, his claws tainted with his own blood. He almost felt bad for whoever had the terrible idea to take you.
If you thought what happened to those masked men in the office was bad, then youād be horrified to see what heād do to this supposed captor.
But right now it seemed to be worseāthe not knowing. He didnāt know if you were happy, scared, living your best life, orā¦dead.
āLyla!ā He exclaimed turning to her and her tiny computers.
āNo matter how many times you yell my name, itās not gonna make me find her any quicker.ā She sing songs.
He groans, going back to pacing. Then he hears the arrival of Gwen, Hobie, Peter and Pavitr. Turning, he doesnāt like the looks on their faces. āWhat is it?ā He asks, crossing his arms.
Gwen looks down. āWe found out thatā¦she didnāt go voluntarily.ā
Thereās silence besides the almost āloudā gaze of Miguel. āWhat was that?ā
āThereās been talk through majority of the universes, about theseā¦guys.ā Peter begins.
āAnd when one showed us a left behind mask, it was the exact same as what those men that infiltrated HQ wore.ā
āWhat do you mean by ādidnāt go voluntarilyā?ā Miguel asks, stepping closer to them all. āHow do you know that?ā
āItās more ovā a guess.ā Hobie says. āFrom what people were sayinā, those āguysā never let someone get away alive.ā
āY/n did.ā Gwen adds, looking solemn.
āSo, you lot came here, with one piece of information saying that sheās either gonna get killed or is already dead?ā Miguel calmly asks.
But his ācalmā tone isnāt necessarilyā¦calm. Itās more like the calm before the storm.
āItās information that could help us.ā Gwen tries to stay positive. āWe can try and track these masked guys. Maybe thereās a base in a universe. Thatās where she could be.ā
āAll Iām hearing is ācouldā and āmaybeā, Gwen.ā Miguel says. āIām gonna need something a little more definite than that.ā
All the spider-people seem to notice the way Miguelās expression shifted the moment the āmasked menā were brought up. He knows something they donāt. And that seems to irritate Hobie the most.
āWell, what do you āave?ā He asks Miguel. āWeāve at least found someāing. What āave you found?ā
Miguelās gaze is narrowed, his face solemn as he stares at Hobie. Hobie steps closer, his boots the second loudest thing in the room.
āAnother thing,ā Hobie adds. āWhile Iām talkingā¦ā He taps at his jeans to a beat only he can seem to hear. āIāve never seen you actāIām surprised to sayāworried. Especially with y/n. I thought you hated her.ā
āMind your business.ā Miguel turns, preparing to web up to the screens.
āMy bad, boss.ā Hobie backs up, a small smirk on his face.
āI thought you two were friends?ā Why Miguel was suddenly having this conversation with Hobie he wasnāt sure, he just felt angry, because Hobie sounded so entitled to you. Like Miguel should stay āhatingā you and thatās it.
Of course Hobie was just being his normal self, but with Miguelās gaze glazed over with too many emotions heās barely felt before, he sees red.
āSo, why donāt you seem more worried about her?ā Miguel continues.
Hobie chuckles. āYou are worried.ā He mutters to himself, shaking his head.
Miguel grits his teeth. āEver heard of guilt?ā He asks. āI donāt particularly want her to die. Having that on my back is gonna be extremely annoying.ā Lies, lies, lies.
āSure, Miguel.ā Hobie hasnāt wiped his smirk off yet, and Miguelās temper is rising.
āAlright, this is not helping.ā Gwen quickly chimes in. āY/nās helped us, and weāre gonna help herā¦letās just leave it at that.ā
Miguel heard her. But all he can seem to focus on is Hobieās smug face, as if he knows something no one else does. Something not even Miguel has really admitted to yet.
;;
You and Miles have talked, about a lot of different things actually. You had originally been trying to come up with a plan to get you home, but it soon evolved into telling each otherās life stories.
āPlease tell me that is not how Gwen got her hair like that?ā Youāre laughing.
āI hadnāt known what to do.ā Miles groans, slightly embarrassed at the memory of his first day as spider-man. His handābeing extremely stickyānot leaving Gwenās hair.
āWait.ā Miles suddenly stands, gazing around. āSomethings wrong.ā
You quickly join him, darting your gaze around the alleyway. The rain had ceased, so the sound of heavy footsteps were growing much clearer.
You stiffen, as you carefully follow Miles to edge of the alleyway, right before you walk onto the street. But thatās when your heart stops.
A small group of masked men stand, much more intimidating in the clearer lightāthe rush of the explosion and fear before having clouded your vision. What were they doing here?
āYou were supposed to watch her!ā One is exclaiming to another. āNow sheās run off somewhere. Did you at least take her wristband?ā
Your eyes widen. Theyāre the reason youāre here? You press further into the wall, listening hard. Why? You desperately wanted that answer.
āOf course I tookāā but he stops, quickly snapping his head in the direction of you and Miles. You quickly hit back against the concrete, Miles doing the same as both your chests heave.
Miles begins to pull down his mask, preparing to face them. But you grab his arm. It wasnāt a coincidence that these same men infiltrated HQ and are now here, assumably having sent you here as well. Something didnāt feel right, and something seemed to tell you that they upgraded in some way since their last attack.
These guyās suits are bigger, more armoured, with neater woven green stitching. This was obviously some sort of ācrewā. Most crews are based on a cause. Like the spider society, for example. Theyāre there to protect the multiverse from inter-dimensional anomalies.
What are these guys fighting for? Could they possibly be fighting against something?
You had too many unanswered questions to let this kid get involved. āJust hold on.ā You say to Miles, staying pressed to the cold wall. He pauses, shifting his gaze who you, in question.
āIāve seen them before.ā You begin. āI think they might be the reason Iām hereā¦ā
āThen we should talk to them. Capture them and get them to talk.ā Miles eagerly says.
You chuckles. āI appreciate that. But I donāt think itās wise. Not with them.ā
Miguel goes to say more, when the sound of footsteps near. You immediately pull Miles farther out of view. Then Miles feels it. Instead of the ātingleā he gets when danger is near, itās more like a foreboding that travels though his entire being. And now he can understand your cautiousness, because for the first time in a while he feels genuinely scaredāpowerless.
The only thing you can think to do is begin to head down the alleyway, picking up speed. Then youāre both running. āHey! I think I found her!ā A voice shouts, and thatās when you run. The type of run that makes you feel lightheaded, and sick in your stomach.
Miles grabs you, web slinging across a building. āI should be fighting them!ā He exclaims through the wind. āWhy am I running away!?ā
āItās probably a survival instinct!ā You exclaim, as he continues to swing. āWhich is concerning since your spider-man.ā You mutter this more to yourself. If spider-manās first instinct was to run then what could this mean for the rest of society?
Then suddenly Miles is getting yanked back, his web snapping, resulting in you both falling to the hard ground. You hit the concrete with a harsh slam, making your eyes blur and your ankle scream.
āShit.ā You mutter. Youāre praying itās not twisted. Please donāt be sprainedāyou chant in your head, as you scramble to your feet, spotting a nearing masked man, claws out and ready.
You couldnāt see Miles, but to be fair you couldnāt see much. So you ran, or more painfully hobbled away. You had to put pressure on your ankle so that you would move. The man is nearing, his heavy breathing sounding louder than it should be.
But then you feel a hand wrap around your waist, pulling you somewhere dark and desolate. You go to scream, eyes wide, when a hand gets placed over your mouth, quieting any forming sounds that were about to fall.
You canāt see who it is, your blurry gaze and the dark atmosphere making it difficult. You squint, only knowing that someone is pushing you up against a wall, one hand wrapped around your waist, as the other keeps you quiet.
Then you feel a breath by your ear. āDonāt move.ā He breathes. And finally the slight accent and familiar tone makes your entire body slump.
Miguel.
You never thought youād feel so relieved to know itās him, but once he had spoken, Miguel could feel your entire body relax, nearly sliding to the floor, the pressure you were placing on your injured ankle now faltering.
Miguel keeps you upright, tightening his grip on your waist, as he keeps his mouth by your ear. āWould now be a bad time to ask why you left a day early?ā
And you actually laugh, half heartedly and mixed in with a groan of pain, but still a laugh nonetheless.
Then Miguel is moving his hand to hold your chin, as he tries to focus your gaze. āCan you see?ā
Your eyes had begun to droop, the exhaustion gradually catching up to you. But then you grab Miguelās arm tightly. āMiles.ā You say, remembering the kid.
āMiles?ā Miguel questions.
āThe kid. I was with a kid. Another spider-man. Is he okay?ā You rush this out, forcing Miguel to place his hand back over your mouth.
āShh. Youāll get us caught.ā He whispers.
You protest, needing an answer, because you could feel yourself slipping from consciousness.
āHeāll be fine. Gwen is with him.ā Miguel consoles, seeing your stress. Your shoulders slump in relief, and finally the exhaustion catches up, grabbing a hold of you, as your eyes begin to flutter.
āWow, wow.ā Miguel mutters, catching your dropping body. āDonāt close your eyes.ā He all but demands, but itās too late. Your eyes roll closed, as darkness gives you a hug.
Miguel slips to the ground with you, holding the back of your head from hitting back. He prays that itās just exhaustion, and nothing moreā¦permanent.
His chest is heaving, his eyes trained on you, while his ears stayed focused, in case the sound of heavy boots broke the city noise.
But he hears nothing of concern, his fingerāat first without permissionādragging along your jaw.
Your lips were slightly parted, your body so limp in his hold. āIām sorry.ā He mutters quietly, his dragging finger drifting up to your face, to brush a stray hair, still slightly damp from the rain.
His finger pauses by your lips, not quite touching, just hovering. Heād been in denial. Big denial. And maybe you wouldnāt feel the same, maybe you hated him. But right now Miguel couldnāt find it in himself to care, all the loud voices in his head zoning out to one single voice saying āI like herā ā¦ āI like her a lotā.
sorry, this one kinda goes everywhere. i needed to add my guy miles <3 i donāt know if I like this one *crying* it feels too random. Iāll hopefully get back on track next chapter
part six is on its way! ā thanks so much for all your guys support on this series, you guys are truly incredible <3
ā EL TRATO (THE DEAL) miguel oāhara x fem!reader
step one step two step three step four step five
4.8k words
ā when youāre left alone in the tech room, many spiders out on missions, something unexpected happens. when miguel finds out his face falls and his claws twitch in anger. after the incident, you find miguel walking down the hall, calling to him he asks you questions, and you offer your help with something.
contains: violence + mentions of blood and injuries (this is quite visual ha); angry + kinda āblood lustā miguel; someone gets electrocuted, reader kinda does (small amountāIāll be honest I donāt know how getting electrocuted exactly works, so for the purpose of the story ignore if the way it happens isnāt realistic, thank you!)
It was silent. For what felt like too long. Besides the tap of your fingers on the keyboardāwhich had begun to slow.
Usually youād hear distant conversations or the sound of web shooting, but instead only silence greeted you. Unease began to make your body turn, your chair spinning with you.
You werenāt sure if you were just being paranoid. You were alone in the office. Which wasnāt anything strange, but it meant that your growing paranoia festered a little stronger.
You edged closer to the door, finally hearing what sounds to be rumbling. Low and too vague for you to decipher. Your hand reaches out to the door handle, but just as your fingers brush the smooth metal, youāre forced back.
Your body flies, coming to a bruising hit on your hip, making you hiss in pain. But youāre quick to get up, rushing to a clear wall, and away from the explosion. You breathe heavy as you slump against it, your ears slightly ringing, while your gaze stays blurry against the random scraps of metal and dust.
You look to the communal intercom, quickly rushing towards it. Someone or something that isnāt supposed to be here is. You have to warn the spider-people who are out on missions.
But where are the others?
Just as you reach the com, the sound of quick scuffling boots can be heard to your left. You snatch up the intercom, slipping under your desk, tucking your feet into the dark just as multiple pairs of unwelcome boots come into view.
Your shrink further into yourself. You couldnāt speak in warning to the spider variants or these guys would hear you. Your eyes narrow on the bottom of their legs. All black, but so far appearing humanised rather then some large monster. An anomaly?āyou think to yourselfāmultiple?
You clutch the intercom mic tighter, your finger grazing the on button. And thatās when they begin to speak.
āGet the tech.ā A gruff voice says. āNow! We canāt waste our time!ā
You can hear more scuffling of boots as the sound of unplugging, or more so ripping follows.
āBoss, theyāll be back.ā One of them said. You try to get a good look at them, but your movements will cause too much attention, so you grind your teeth and listen harder.
āIf you pick up that damn monitor we might have a chance to get out quick enough.ā What you assume to be the gruff voice of ābossā says.
āWho even made you in charge?ā One grumbles out.
āWhoās idea was it to lure those stupid spiders out on some fake mission, that, might I add, required a decent bunch of those freaks?ā
āNot all of them, though.ā One adds. You try again to peak out. You manage to scale the bodies of three, all in black, withā¦masks. Damn it. They looked worn outāhandmade.
āWell, lucky for us the remainders are all too busy in the lobby. Now hurry up and pack the bags.ā Boss agitatedly says.
And as if luck is still on your back-burner, your foot slips, only a fraction, but enough to knock a piece of stray metal across the floor.
āWhat was that?ā One of the masked men asks.
The silence now following sounds threatening. You place your hand over your mouth, to quieten your breathing, as the scuffs of boots draws closer.
;;
āPeter P!ā Exclaimed Miguel, just as static breaks through his ear. He hisses, not expecting it, as he holds the earpiece, brows furrowed. Then the static grows clearer.
āGet the tech. Now! We canāt waste our time!ā
āBoss, theyāll be back.ā
Miguel narrows his eyes as he listens, confused at first. When he looks to the other spider-people theyāre are all holding their own earpieces, trying to comprehend what theyāre listening to.
āWho even made you in charge?ā
āWhoās idea was it to lure those stupid spiders out on some fake mission, that, might I add, required a decent bunch of those freaks?ā
āLyla, what is this?ā Miguel asks. She appears by him, tapping away at screens.
āIt appears to be coming from a communal intercom.ā She says.
āAt HQ?ā He asks, already flexing his claws. āWhich one.ā
āIām just finding out. The connection is muffled.ā More tapping.
āWell, lucky for us the remainders are all too busy in the lobby. Now hurry up and pack the bags.ā
The voices still infiltrate Miguelās ear. āLyla.ā He sounds impatient. āWhich one?ā
Then she stops tapping. āY/n y/l/nās.ā
Miguel freezes, looking at Lyla as if she would be one to crack a joke. Then he hears the knock of something metal through his ear piece, followed by a āāWhat was that?āā. He can now hear your heavy breathes, slightly muffled, as heavy boots hit the floor.
Then all sound is gone.
He doesnāt wait for anyone, pressing his wristband to open the portal to HQ. But Jess stops him. āMiguel, think about this. What if itās them?ā
Miguel glances at her, shrugging her grip off his arm, as he taps at his wristband again, the portal opening up. His expression is downcast, one could easily say terrifying.
āMiguel! You have to think this through.ā Jess persists. āWe have spider-men and woman back at HQāā
āWho are clearly too distracted to do something.ā Miguel grunts out, webbing towards the portal. But Peter P intercepts this time.
āSheās right, Miguel. Donāt worry about the tech, we can get it back, or even get new onesāā
āThe tech?ā Miguel actually sounds in disbelief. āYou think Iām fucking worried about the tech?!ā His red eyes gleam, and Peter P gulps.
āThen what are you worried about, Miguel?ā Jess asks, exasperated. āBecause I donāt see anything else that needs urgent attention. The tech is the maināā
āĀæTĆŗ no? The tech is the last of my worries, Jess.ā Miguel interrupts. But this time he isnāt yelling. This time itās toned down, and somehow that makes him appear much, much scarier.
āMiguel.ā Jess tries to calm him down, not understanding what he could find more worrying. Data had been saved on that tech, important data. She places one hand on his wrist, but he immediately shrugs her off, glaring.
āGet out of my way.ā He snarls. She doesnāt move, crossing her arms. āThe reason why you arenāt hurt against that wall is because you earned my respect. Thatās slipping, Jess.ā
āMiguel youāre frantic.ā She says.
āCall it what you want. Iām getting to HQ.ā He webs past her, and Jess finally has the mind to let him go. Though she still stands there worried, and confused about what could have made Miguel so urgent to get to the scene.
;;
You tighten your hold on the intercom, now switching to use it as a possible weapon, as the boots near. You prepare yourself by silent deep breaths and a focused gaze.
The boots stop in front of you, pausing for only a moment. Then the desk is being flung to the side. You choke a gasp, managing to slam the intercom down into the guys shin, the harsh metal side bruising and buckling his leg.
He exclaims in pain as you scramble to your feet. You can finally see the detail on the three mensā outfits. A dark green weaved into the fabric. Then you see the claws for hands, and all three of their masks turned to you. Shit.
āWho are you guys?ā You manage to get out, as you reach behind you for a keyboard.
One looks at the other before looking back at you. āWere you here the whole time?ā
You say nothing, edging closer to the exit. Itās silent from them for a moment then āā¦kill her.ā The gruff voice of ābossā says. And theyāre quick.
You try to rush away but one yanks you back by your hair. You angrily swing around and knock the metal keyboard across one of their heads. Some of the pieces shatter against his mask.
But then one is grabbing your neck, pushing you against the wall. āSorryāboss says no tattle tales.ā The guy tightens his hold, and your hands scramble against his in an effort to intake air.
Thereās a moment where your vision blurs. But thereās also a moment where his knee shifts letting your leg harshly kick out. Youāre glad to find him humanised in his pants as he doubles over.
You rush away from the wall, heaving. One of the masked men is already trying to grab you and as his clawed hand wraps around your arm, heās pulled back, a shining orange web yanking him straight into a monitor, his head smashing against glass.
The speed makes his claws cut across your flesh but your adrenaline is far too prominent for you to care. You notice the other guy stalking towards you, making you swiftly gaze around at your environment, Weapon. Weapon. Weapon. You stop on a machine, wires poking out, sparking with electricity. Holding a certain point you pull two out, ripping the electric wires, before stabbing them into his stomach, the electric current making his body shake and twitch.
You soon have to let go as they grow unbearably hot, leaving scolding burns on your fingertips and palms. Thatās when you notice the owner of the orange web. Miguel has ruined the guy he originally threw into a monitor, his body now a bloody pulp.
You have to quickly look away to the second guy who had obviously gotten up from your kick and landed straight into Miguelās palm. Miguel is retracting his claws from the masked manās body, blood tainting the tips of his fingers, as he breaths harshly but somehow still controlled.
Miguel looks to the guy knocked out in front of you, still occasionally twitching from the strong current of electricity. You feel light headed, placing your hands on your knees as you try to slow your breathing.
But then you feel a hand. And not a friendly one as the masked man passes on some of the electricity moving through his body into your thigh. You scream, the half electrocuted guyāhis hair frizzed and slightly cinchedāstumbling to a stance, just as you fall to the floor.
Then you hear a crash and a curdling screamānot from you.
Miguel inserts his claws into the guys neck, practically ripping his throat out, as the guy chokes on his own blood. The blood sprays across Miguelās face, leaving slight speckles as he rips the rest of the man with his teeth, letting him drop to the floor.
It was animalistic in way, as his tongue licked his fangs, his breathing now harsherāangrier.
But then he sees you drifting from consciousness on the floor.
Miguel doesnāt know what breathing is, or the meaning of the word slow, as he reaches your side in a millisecond, his hand coming to grab your face between his fingersāmaybe a little harshly but his entire being was still on overdrive.
Miguel tightens his hold on your cheeks as he slightly shakes your head. āY/l/n.ā He hisses. āWake up.ā
Heās gentle now, realising that youāre a human and not some villain he needs to hurt, as he checks your pulse not wanting his claws to cut you. āY/n!ā He finally exclaims, as you get roused awake.
Your leg feels painfully numb, as your eyes flutter open. A thin layer of tears is making your eyes sparkle as you finally meet Miguelās gaze. You try to slow your breathing, shutting your eyes to reassess.
Miguel tightens his hold on your cheeks. āNo, no. Open them.ā
You do, though they stay hooded. āIām justā¦tired. No need to sound so harshāshit.ā The lasting electricity still spasms up your leg, as the hold of Miguelās hand makes the tears fall.
You begin to shake your head, partially trying to get out of his hold. āStop.ā You say.
āStop what?ā Miguel instantly replies, his gaze shooting to your thigh.
āJustāā you breathe. Then Miguel finds the deep scratch mark on your arm, his hand grabbing it as his eyes dart. āItās fine. Just a cut.ā
āY/n, you just got attacked. Youāre a weak human, donāt try to sound so tough.ā
āYouāre not helping.ā You hiss, tilting your head back as you try to keep the tears in, not wanting them to fall. āAnd that was kind of mean.ā You mutter the last part just for the sake of it. Using your pain induced state as an excuse to blurt out your annoyed feelings with Miguel.
Miguel grabs your chin, trying to pull your gaze back to his, but you resist, keeping it tilted away. āStop.ā You say again.
āNo.ā He answers, successfully pulling your chin back, and holding it there. āWhy arenāt you looking me?ā
Your eyes are darting around, before you choose to close them. āY/n.ā Miguel is stern, but underlying that he sounds almost desperateāalmost.
You can feel him move closer to you and you place your hand out to stop him, your palm ending up against his chest. āCan you notāā
āWhatānot help you?ā He asks harshly.
āCan you look away.ā You say, finally opening your eyes. āPlease.ā
āWhy?ā Miguel isnāt budging, staying close to you. Heās already dialled in medical on his wristwatch.
āJeezus Christ, Miguel! I donāt like fucking crying in front of people. Itās a weird thing I canāt get rid of. I hate it. It makes me feel embarrassedāā
āEmbarrassed?ā Miguel interrupts.
āYes. Embarrassed.ā You hiss harshly. You couldnāt find your filter, your tone far more aggressive then usual with the throbbing pain in your arm and the spasm of your thigh.
āWell, that stupid.ā He says.
āYeah, it is. But itās not going away. So if you could just look away and let meā¦I dunnoā¦recompose myself.ā
āRecompose yourself?ā
āYes! Stop repeating what Iām saying!ā You exclaim, only to follow with a groan of pain as you try to sit up.
Miguel knows your mind is frazzled and your body is reactive. He pushes you back down, grabbing your cheeks again.
āYou got partially electrocuted and cutādeep, Iād think youāre a psychopath If you didnāt cry.ā Miguel says, his volume dropped to one almost soothingāalmost.
āDoesnāt make me hate it any less.ā You mutter.
āWowā¦Iāve never seen you this annoyed before.ā
You narrow your eyes on him. His hand that was gingerly inspecting your thigh had slipped over your waist, partially caging you in.
You try again to sit up. But Miguel yet again, keeps you pressed to the floor. āOāhara.ā
He leans closer to you, narrowing his eyes. āStop moving.ā
āIām fine.ā
āNo your not.ā He easily answers, which earns him a half hearted scoff. āYou know I think I prefer you trying to suck up instead.ā
You meet his gaze glaring. āI have not been sucking up, I just likeāā
āThis job. Yeah Iāve heard you.ā He interrupts.
He can hear commotion behind him, but the voices of rushing spider-people makes his shoulders relax. The medical have arrived, and as you notice the new people you quickly wipe your cheeks, brushing against Miguelās hand, as you get up.
Miguel finally letās you, by slipping his arm around the back of your waist. You try to swat it awayāany physical touch usually induces the waterworks you desperately wanted to keep at bayābut he tightens his hold, resulting in your side being flush against him.
The medical spiders inspect your bruised body. āItās her thigh and upper armā¦ā Miguel begins telling the spiders. Then he grabs your hands holding your palms out. āAnd hands.ā The burnt marks look raw, and you hiss as Miguel had to slightly stretch the skin to show.
He immediately lets go upon hearing the sound of pain. āThanks Miguel, weāll take it from here.ā A medical spider says, already at your side checking your cut.
Miguel narrows his eyes on the spider variant, watching as you bite your lip as they inspect your wound. He sighs, finally getting up and letting your waist go. At the sudden shift your hand flies out to his leg, or more specifically his thigh.
Your quick, tight grip has Miguel stopping. You change your position, not having realised how much you were using Miguel as physical support, before youāre quickly taking your hand away and coughing.
You give him a brief nod. āThanks for the help.ā
Miguel scoffs. āHelp? I did a bit more than help.ā
Youāre praying to get some anaesthetic soon so that your pain wonāt make you loose your job. You press your lips together harshly. āOf course. You did spectacular.ā You say.
The sarcasm isnāt lost on him. He eyes you once more before heās walking out the exit.
You sat there, finally taking a proper breath. You donāt know why you were holding it for so long. ā¦maybe you did have a clue. The image of Miguel ripping the guys neck out, blood staining his face is still fresh in your mind.
Youāll be honest, it scared you. He kind of scared you. But not in way youād think heād hurt you, just one that made him seem unpredictable. I mean what happened just then, with his touching and softer tone was something completely unforeseen.
If someone told you he would be do that today youād actually laugh. Miguel was unpredictable and intimidating in general, sure, but what seemed to scare you more was the way he looked when his eyes shone with blood lust. His eye colour seemed fitting now.
You also happened to be scared of the way the sight made you feel. Something that settled far too low in your stomach.
;;
Miguel went straight to the lobby where a spider variant he kept high up in the ranks resided. āYou. Get up. Now.ā
The spider variant immediately stood, as he nervously followed Miguel to his office. The orange tech screens were the main thing lighting the place.
And as Spider-Man took a breath he lost it as soon as Miguel slowly turned to him. Blood still stained his skin and claws and suit, and the spider-man felt the urge to run.
āWhere were you today?ā Miguel asked, leaning back against a table and crossing his arms almost too casually.
āI wasā¦here, Miguel.ā He said steeling his spine. He knew where this was going.
āWere you?ā Miguel asked, his eyes trained on the spider.
Spider man gulped. āIām really sorry, Miguel. I didnāt hear any sort of explosion. I didnāt get any awareness. Whichā¦shouldnāt happen.ā
āYou know what āshouldnāt happenā?ā Miguel asks, now twirling an empty glass on the table. āSpider men and woman shouldnāt only rely on that ātingle thingā.ā
The spider hangs his head lower in apology. āSomeone could have died today.ā Miguel continued. āAnd you would have whatābeen too busy playing poker?ā
The spider variant winces at his words. Miguel knew of his addiction, always using his free time to gamble.
āDo you get that?ā Miguel asks.
āI do. Iām sorry.ā
āSadly thatās not gonna cut it.ā Miguel says, making spider man look up. āI left you in charge while I was gone. You failed miserably.ā
āMiguel. I didnāt mean to only rely on my usual awareness, itās a force of habit. Thatās never happened before. I can always sense when danger is close.ā
āBut you didnāt.ā Miguel says. āThereās someone in medical right now who got injuredābadly. And she was all alone.ā Miguel has stood up, stalking towards him.
āNow for personal reasons I may find her annoying.ā He quickly mutters out. āBut that certainly doesnāt mean you can let her die. Do you hear me?ā
Spider man quickly nods. āOf course. Thisāll never happen again.ā
āNo it wonāt.ā Miguel turns away, and the finality in his voice makes spider manās eyes widen.
āMiguelāā
āGo home.ā Miguel cuts in, stepping up to his screens. Anger still seeped from every pore.
;;
You woke up, feeling a dull ache in your body, but for the most part you felt alright. Better, a lot better. You swing your feet off the medical bed, realising that the lights were out.
Your feet hit the cold floor, before you quietly step towards the exit door.
Making it out to the hallway you were grateful you were already on the high level, no need for a long travel up the stairs.
You needed to rest. Alone. Not surrounded my medical items. You slowly headed to your room, but stop upon seeing a familiar body walking away.
āOāhara.ā You say, making the figure freeze.
You quicken your steps, reaching him. He turns and you have to stop the intake of breathe at the reminded visual of the now dried blood.
āYou didnāt want a shower?ā You joked, forcing a chuckle.
Miguel just scans your body, narrowing his eyes, his expression is itās typical, solemn and moody. āYou should get back to bed.ā
āI was actually heading to my room. But I just wanted toā¦thank you.ā You say, finally making Miguel meet your gaze.
āYou really did help me back there.ā You spare him a small smile and a nod. Then your gaze gets caught back up in the blood stains, as you gulp.
āYou saw, didnāt you?ā Miguel suddenly asks.
You look up. āMm?ā
āThe reason Iām covered in blood.ā
āOh.ā You say. āIt wasā¦quite impressive.ā
āNo it wasnāt.ā Miguel says making your brows furrow. He steps a fraction closer. āYou didnāt think so.ā
āWhat do you mean?ā
Another step. āYou thought I looked animalistic. Scary.ā
You dart your gaze down to his slowly moving feet before quickly looking back up. You shake your head. And in return Miguel nods.
āYou think Iām scary.ā Everything heās saying is statements. He knows, but you keep shaking your head.
āDonāt do that. Donāt lie.ā He says, much, much closer now. āYouāre terrible at it.ā
You stop the shake of your head, blinking a few times. āOāharaāā
āJust be honest.ā
āI am.ā You say, straightening your spine. And as your eyes dart you notice a deep cut running across his thigh. The dried blood, his.
You step closer. āWhy didnāt you get that check out?ā
He glances down at his wound. āItās fine.ā
āOh come on, donāt do that. Donāt act like your above it all, including pain, and infection.ā Your blatancy makes Miguel raise a brow.
You pause for a moment, mulling over potential decisions in your head. Then before it could get later and before you could back down you speak. āFollow me. Let me help.ā
Miguel stares at you. āItās fineāā he goes to monotonously repeat.
You just grab his wrist, pulling him towards your room. Miguel grabs your wrist in turn, preparing to pull your hand off.
āHey. You made me go to your room, now Iām just returning the favour.ā You say.
Miguel stares at you, scoffing. You let go of his wrist, knowing you donāt have the strength to pull him. āIf youāre scared I donāt know what Iām doing, then know that I studied to be a nurse before I found out aboutā¦all this.ā
āWhy?ā Miguel asks. āWhy help?ā He elaborates.
āI just told you.ā You say, beginning to head to your room. āI feel weird if Iāve seen your room when you havenāt yet seen mine.ā
āThatās not a good reason at all.ā
āBut your walking my way arenāt you?ā
Miguel hadnāt realised that heād moved to your door without the permission of his mind. He curses under his breath as your scent floods his senses, your room making it ten times worse. This is the last thing he needed.
But youāre already shutting the door and ushering him further in. āYou can umā¦ā you look around. āYou can just sit on the bed.ā
NoāMiguel thought. God, no. But you were already getting out an older looking kit from under textbooksāyour stuff having been brought to you from your universe.
He slowly sits, trying not to get one bit comfortable. You reach his side placing the kit on the bed, as you drop to your knees.
Miguelās breathing stops at the visual. Youāre directly by his thighā¦kneeling. No, no.
Miguel clicks his jaw, looking away. He looks back down, to see your hand is midway from touching his cut thigh. āWhy are you doing this?ā He canāt fathom why you would actually want to help him.
You sigh. āI just feel kinda bad.ā
āBad?ā
āMhm.ā You nod.
āFor any particular reason?ā Miguel pushes.
āNo.ā You sarcastically scoff. āYouāre just generally a person everyone feels bad for.ā
Miguel narrows his eyes as you chuckle. He shifts on your bed. āStop doing that.ā
Your hand stops by his cut, thinking itās the touching of his wound, when in actual fact it was the way your āchuckleā had sent a strange vibration through him to somewhere he desperately didnāt want you to notice. He was right. This was a terrible idea.
Then youāre touching him. Delicate and gentle, as you pull away his ripped suit. You begin to dab what looks to be an alcohol cloth onto his wound, and in response Miguel snarls, his grip tightening around your sheets.
āSorry.ā You mutter.
āDios.ā He mutters, closing his eyes a moment. āStop being nice.ā
You look up at him. āI have to say, Iāve never heard someone say that. Usually itās āstop being meanā.ā
His face is tight as you continue to clean his cut. āSomeone said that to you?ā
You pause. āNo actually. But I just mean in general. And Iām not being āniceā to you. Iām returning a favour.ā
āAh.ā He hums, before all his muscles tense. āCan you hurry up.ā
āYouāve never let anyone touch you up before, have you?ā Catching onto the fact that heās clearly cleaned his past wounds himself.
Miguel glares at you. āSo, you can stop.ā He reaches to take the cloth from you, but you lean away resting your hand on his knee for support.
āYou can just sit on the bed.ā Miguel grits out. He couldnāt watch you being on your knees for him any longer. Not unless heād do something heād end up regretting.
āThatās okay, itās an easier angle here.ā
God. You had to stop. āEasier angelā? Yeah, Miguel definitely wasnāt thinking about you cleaning his cut. He runs his hand through his hair.
You quickly reach out grabbing his wrist. He looks at you, expectantly. āYou have uhā¦blood on your fingertipsā¦claws.ā
Miguel darts his gaze across your face. āAnd youāre worried about it getting myā¦hair dirty?ā
You shrug. āWell, now youāre making me sound stupid.ā
āI donāt need to do that.ā He quips, and you shoot him a glare. āBut umā¦ā he drifts off, as you look up at him, now waiting expectantly.
āDid you find meā¦scary, or whatever?ā He asks, and surprisingly thereās a hint ofā¦vulnerability hidden in his tone? Noāyou think to yourselfāthat canāt be right. āBefore. With the anomalies.ā
You dab a fraction harder, making Miguel hiss a groan. You ignore the way it vibrates through your body. You shake your head.
āWhy do you keep lying?ā He asks.
You sigh. āI justāā
āJust?ā Miguel seemed to really want to get an answer out of you. He shifts closer. And when you donāt answer, continuing to focus on his wound, he grabs your jaw, pulling you up to meet his gaze. You gulp, his large hand nearly reaching to wrap around your neck.
āDo I scare you?ā
Your chest picks up a quicker beat. He leans closer, pulling you towards him, your chest hitting his thigh. āDo Iāā
āYes. Alright.ā You quickly say. āA little bitā¦yes.ā
His grip tightens around your chin a fraction. āBecause of what you saw?ā
āAnd the way you talk to people.ā You mutter out. Why were saying this? This isnāt something you say to your boss.
You hadnāt noticed at first but one of his claws had begun to brush back and forth against the skin of your jaw, his eyes not leaving yours. You were utterly frozen. And thereās a moment that you just catch where his gaze darts down to your lips, his breath feeling extremely close.
But then heās leaning away, his jaw clenching as he looks to the door. āAre you done?ā
You quickly look down to his cut, rushing to get out a bandage. āUh, almost.ā Your entire body was buzzing.
While you stayed focused on finishing him up, Miguelās gaze went back to staring at you. He almost gave ināalmost. He wouldnāt, though.
You were scared of him. He knew you were somewhat so, but now hearing you say it confirmed that youād never see him how he had gradually started seeing you. He had to stop. Now, before he dove in far too deep.
He couldnāt let himself go any deeper. Because at this rate heād certainly drown, and if he was going to die, it wouldnāt be from some silly little crush.
okay, Iām sorry, I lied. there is nothing sexual in here. but I didnāt think adding anything like that yet would work. since a lot of you guys asked for a slow burn <3
again, I hope this is up to a good standard for you guys to continue reading. I wanted to add something a little different then the usual Spanish lesson then Miguelās end of the deal. I needed some action of some sort.
and ofc, part five will come soon x love you all MWAH
Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel OāHara ( 18+ f!reader)
ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!
College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
summary: Miguel is your roommate. And heās hot. Thatās it, thatās the tweet.
warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI
a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!
wc: 6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice.Ā
Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window.Ā
So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman.Ā
When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.
Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment.Ā
You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.Ā
You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.
You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara?Ā
Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning.Ā
On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach.Ā
"You want it, hermosa? Tell meā¦. such a pretty girlā¦ like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that wasā¦Ā
You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying .Ā
The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist.Ā
"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!"Ā
~~~
He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring.Ā
The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.
As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask.Ā
It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him.Ā
The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep.Ā
Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him.Ā
This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.Ā She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.
"Where's he gone?" She asks politely.Ā
You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."
"It's okayā¦ I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for theā¦ cardio later on in the day.Ā
You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.
"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I thinkā¦ yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."
Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it.Ā
"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo.Ā
"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.
You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."
A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.Ā
~~~
You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it.Ā
After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy foodā¦. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course.Ā
Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself.Ā
You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall.Ā
It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure.Ā
It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself.Ā
Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here.Ā
On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video.Ā
" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen.Ā
What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all.Ā
Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners.Ā
He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toyā¦ or maybe ass up, dildo attached to somethingā¦? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you.Ā
All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs.Ā
" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need itā¦ oh God, I-"Ā
He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-
" H-Harder, Miguel, please."Ā
He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers.Ā
" Fuck, Miguelā¦"
He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall.Ā
~~~
He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.
A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home.Ā
And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.
Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions.Ā
You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night.Ā
He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy??Ā
You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.
After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water.Ā
With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there.Ā
"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway.Ā
You wince."...F-Fine?"Ā
You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?"Ā
You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm justā¦ it was fine."
Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice.Ā
"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further.Ā
Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together.Ā
You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand.Ā
" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee.Ā
"You lookā¦ wet."Ā
"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze.Ā
"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed.Ā
There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.Ā His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds.Ā
Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?"Ā
He's got a hand on your arm now,Ā The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details.Ā
" Nothing's going right for meā¦ and I've got my final project on thereā¦ I'm barely keeping up as it isā¦" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy.Ā
It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside.Ā
"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."
"I didn'tā¦ I didn't think we wereā¦" You search for the right word.Ā
"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?"Ā
"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."
"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"
"...I'd like that, to be honest."
"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."
"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too."Ā
~~~
You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same.Ā
You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way.Ā
There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost.Ā
It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.
Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand.Ā
What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza?Ā
Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal.Ā
So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy.Ā
āMiguel? Open the fuck up!"
You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats.Ā
All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought.Ā
"Yeah?"Ā
"Iā¦" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-"Ā
"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guessā¦"
There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair fallsā¦
"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!"Ā
With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway.Ā
"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "
"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regretā¦?"
"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-"Ā
"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.
He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips.Ā
You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.
"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you.Ā
His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand.Ā
"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close.Ā
You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.
"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile.Ā
"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side.Ā
"Allā¦" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."
His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.
"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular.Ā
He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?"Ā
"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it.Ā
He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty.Ā
"Huh. I guess they do."Ā
"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-somethingā¦"
"Katie." He hums.Ā
"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name.Ā
You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch.Ā
"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ."Ā
Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest.Ā
"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-"Ā
"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."
Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own.Ā
"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.
Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?
"...and I heard you say my name."Ā
"It wasā¦. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing.Ā
"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-"Ā
He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"
A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."
"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."
He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together.Ā
He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest.Ā
It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts.Ā
"ĀæPaciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."
You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck.Ā
He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum.Ā
Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth.Ā
Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin.Ā
"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt..Ā
"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara.Ā
"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.
He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"
Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Justā¦ n-nothing really-"
He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?"Ā
You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."
"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?"Ā
It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction.Ā
"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach.Ā
You mumble something begrudgingly.
"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."
Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel."Ā
Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierdaā¦ of course you do."
Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth.Ā
He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down.Ā He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.
And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue.Ā
And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole.Ā
"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue.Ā
You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off.Ā
"Right there, fuckā¦ "
Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily.Ā
You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him.Ā
"That wasā¦" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him.Ā
"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs.Ā
Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck.Ā
"You haven'tā¦?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."
His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."
You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should.Ā
"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head.Ā
"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."
Jay loves nothing more than to unwind with one of his beat-up paperbacks... No, he really loves nothing more than when you ease yourself down on his lap, hands gripping his splayed thighs as the wet heat of your pussy slides down his length, to keep his cock nice and warm while he reads one of his beat-up paperbacks over your shoulder, occasionally dropping soft kisses on your bare skin, which is exposed through the neck of one of his oversized tees š
hear me outā¦ the spiderman kiss with miguel šš¾šš¾
itās a canon event for every spidey (source: trust me)
YES ITS A CANON EVENT, SOURCE: ME!!!!
āthank you for dropping me home.ā you say.
walking up the few steps to your house and getting to the front door, you turn to see miguel looking towards you with eyes that gleamed even within the charcoal blue night.
he however, stood at the bottom step.
āno worries.ā he flashes with a strong smile. āiāll see you tomorrow.ā
you wave him off as he turns himself around and proceeds to walk the way you both came. it was disappointing, because you thought the date had gone really well and that you were finally making progress with the man. however, seeing him be that eager to go made your heart sag.
you unlock the door to your apartment and walk in, dumping your bag by the door along with your shoes.
normally after you had a night out and the evening was still young, youd at least have a drink or a few snacks to yourself but all you wanted to do was go to your room and sulk.
flipping on your light switch, you sigh as you fling yourself onto your bed back first, your arm covering over your eyes. you would have stayed like that had it not been for the knock at your bedroom window. suddenly getting up, you shuffle towards it before opening the glass vertically. your face automatically lights up once you see who it is.
āmiguel!ā
he still had his shirt and smart pants on ā smile as big as ever ā but the man was hanging upside down in front of the glass.
āi forgot sumn.ā he says, but as soon as does, heās capturing your face in his and pulling you to kiss him within the gap of the window.
the kiss is so tailored for you that it makes you think heād been practicing elsewhere. youāre not sure if the thought of that made you jealous or if it made you feel special that heād do all that just for you.
regardless, once miguel (reluctantly) pulls back from the kiss, you stick your arm out to lightly hit his shoulder.
āidiot.ā
āreally thought iād just leave you hanging dry like that, huh?ā
rolling your eyes, you walk away from your window and back to your bed, only this time you sit on it with your arms splayed behind you.
āwhatever. you coming in or not?ā
miguel unlatches himself from his webs which drop him on the fire stairway just under your window before crawling up the remainder of the wall and scrambling into your bedroom.
āoh!ā he says with a devious grin as soon as he lands onto your floor. āi thought youād never ask.ā
warnings: biting, porn without a plot honestly, possessive Miguel, creampie
a/n: happy spider-verse day everyone! I am going tonight to see it at 8. i love writing Miguel as a begger when he desperately needs someone,
~~~
The mission had gone haywire.
You were being tugged behind your leader, Miguel O'Hara. One of the villains had blasted the two of you with some form of gas. You both ran as fast as you could trying to get somewhere safe. Both of you had inhaled mass amounts of the gas.
Miguel shot a wet swinging away, holding you tight against his side. You coughed trying to catch your breath. You threw one of your smoke bombs you had around your waist trying to help the two of you escape. He landed on a wall in an alley way. He covered your mouth, gesturing for you to keep quiet. You watched as the villain ran right past where you were hiding.
Once the villain was completely out of sight, you both sighed. Miguel's hands went to the sides of his head in frustration. He growled, angry with what had happened. You stood with you back against the wall in silence. He paced in a circle, huffing and grumbling to himself.
"Miguel...?"
He snapped back to reality. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He reached for you, cupping your cheek. You fell into his touch, "Yes. Doesn't seem like that gas did anything to me. You?" He shook his head, "I feel normal. Let's get back to the base. We can get a quick scan done there."
The two of you snuck back to the base, being careful and as quiet as possible. You both had scans ran on your bodies, everything was normal. You stood in a vacant hallway together, no masks. Frustration painted Miguel's expression. You placed your hand on his arm, "Hey, it's okay. We can try again tomorrow."
Your touch burned against his skin.
A loud sigh left him, "You-You're right. It's late anyway. We should both get some sleep." His hand ran down your arm. Your skin immediately ignited. Your face flushed with heat at such a simple gesture. Your mouth ran dry. You were unsure what this feeling you had was. "Goodnight, Y/N," he walked past you. It was like you could smell him. Your senses were going crazy. For some reason they all pooled deep in your stomach.
You rushed to your quarters. You laid on your bed still in your suit. Your body burned. It felt like your suit was stuck to you. You pried it off throwing it onto the floor. You did not know what came over you. You never felt this way about Miguel. But all you could think about was him pinning you against the bed and ravishing you. You began to sweat. You ran your hand through your hair. Your heart rate was in your throat.
What the hell is happening?
Heat rushed down your body. Leaving you completely soaking through your panties. You swallowed heavy. You could not figure out what was happening. Your Spider-Sense was going crazy. You wanted to pry the rest of your clothes off you.
What is going on?
Your breathing kicked up. It was like you could feel every particle in the air on your skin and you hated it. You ran into your bathroom and splashed water on your face. All that did was worsen the feeling. You fanned your face. No matter what you tried the feeling was only growing worse. Miguel was the only thing on your mind. You thought about his broad chest. How strong his shoulders looked. His fangs that only showed when he was truly mad. His clawed hands. You wanted to see more of him. You wanted him inside you.
It had to be whatever you got sprayed with earlier. Maybe Miguel could help you understand?
No- NO! You could not go to him feeling like this. But you had to. He was your leader. He always knew how to fix your problems. You covered yourself with a robe and hurried over to his quarters.
Hesitation washed over you when you got to his door.
What if he was ashamed of you like this? What if he made fun of you? What if-
His door opened. Your eyes shot up at him. His eyes were glowing with the light from the hallway. He wore nothing but his boxers, hunched slightly in the doorway before you. Heavy shoulders painted his figure. Deep breaths fell from him.
"I could smell you through the door," he growled. If it was even possible, your skin grew hotter. You saw his fangs in his mouth. Sweat dripped down his figure. He grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you into his room. A tight grip was placed on your shoulders. His face went into your neck, he took a deep smell of you. "God... you smell so sweet," he growled. You felt all the air escape your lungs. You were engulfed with his strong smell. It went straight to your core. Your body craved his.
"What is going on with us?"
"Not fully sure, mustāve been whatever they sprayed us with..." his mouth was against your throat. You could feel his fangs caressing your skin. "It hurts a little, doesn't it? Like you'll never feel relief?" he grumbled into you. You nodded at him.
His hands released slightly on you, running down your arms. He took your robe down with his hands, exposing your barely clothed body. His breath was red hot against your skin. Your hands went to his bare chest, running them down his body. He groaned with your touch. He began sucking on your skin. You moaned out to him, "Oh, Miguel..." He licked a stripe up your neck. Your lip quivered. Strong hands grabbed you by the ass, pulling you flush against him. His cock rested against you. The fire inside you was burning even brighter feeling him.
His lips crashed into yours. You both kissed sloppily, tongues intertwining and teeth knocking together. Your hands went to the back of his head keeping him as close to you as possible. "Fuck," he moaned into your mouth. One of his fangs caught your lip. He broke the kiss, "Sorry, I'm just so... God, I can't even form words." You could faintly see his mouth hanging open. Your fingertips traces his jawline. His head fell back with your touch. You pressed your lips against his throat. He moaned when your lips touched his skin. You kissed and sucked at his skin. "God, yes..." he called out to you.
You ran a hand down his body, stopping to feel his hard cock. He gasped. His face scrunched up at the contact. He grabbed your wrist stopping you, "Doesn't feel right. I... I need to be inside you." You looked up at him. His eyes stared into yours. Your body ached. It needed him. You needed him. You could not think of anything else except him right now. He leaned down to your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth. "Please... let me fuck you," he huffed out. Desperation painted his voice. He began grinding his body against yours. You moaned at the friction. His heavy breaths fell into your ear.
You backed away from him, sitting on the edge of his bed. His shoulders slumped before you. You watched as his chest rapidly rose and fell with each huff of air he sucked in. His dark eyes stared at you. You laid your body back, presenting yourself to him. His eyebrows rose. You both felt like animals in heat. Unable to deny your urges.
Miguel topped you, hot air hitting your face. He began grinding himself onto your clothed core. He rested his forehead against yours, "God, yes. That feels better. Fuck, Y/N." You moaned loudly at the contact. It was almost as if this was cooling the burn inside you. His muscular figured towered over you. Sweaty skin stuck together. The two of you were desperate to have any contact you could. Almost as if touching each other calmed the beast building up inside you.
You pressed your lips back to his. Your arms wrapped around his neck. His tongue ventured into your mouth, tasting every bit of you he could. His lips ventured to your jawline, finding their way to the pieces of breast that spilled out of your bra. He bit down onto your flesh, pulling a loud moan from you. He sucked your skin between his teeth leaving a deep purple mark on you.
His hand reached around your back, undoing your bra and throwing it onto the floor. Dark eyes admired your chest. He pulled a nipple between his teeth, flicking it with his tongue. Your fingers dug into his back forcing your chest further into his mouth. One of his fingers found its way to your aching core. He wetted his finger with your juices, beginning to rub circles on your clit. You shook your head, "In-Inside me. Please, Miguel."
Miguel's jaw hung open. Quickly he pulled his boxers off, his hard cock springing against his stomach. With one motion he ripped your panties off you. "Sorry," he kissed you aggressively, "I'll buy you new ones." The underbelly of his cock rested on your opening. He grinded himself down into you. His face contorted with pleasure. "More, more, more," he chanted above you.
"Please," you begged him.
The tip of his cock was positioned at your opening. "Can't wait anymore," he growled. He slowly pushed his way inside you. An open mouthed moan left his lips, you called out to him. He felt so unbelievably good. He held your hips in place, moving slowly inside you. "Finally," he moaned a deep growl on his tone. He threw his head back in pure ecstasy. His fangs were illuminated by the faint light shining through his window. Sweat rolled down his whole body. His muscles contorted with every thrust. He found a rough pace inside you. Your back arched up at him. The sound of sticking and smacking skin filled the room.
His eyes peered down at you. You had your head thrown back, your throat fully exposed to him. He leaned down, placing his fangs on your throat. He bit down softly, drawing a moan from you. Your hands grabbed at his hair. "yes, yes, yes," you panted.
Nothing had ever felt better. You were euphoric.
His head fell into your neck. He was panting as he thrusted inside you. One of his hands ghosted down your body, finding its way to your clit. He began rubbing circles onto the sensitivity. "Oh, Miguel," you moaned. "You feel so-fuck-so good. I never want to leave-oh god-never, never, never," he panted in your ear. He licked down your neck to your shoulder. You felt his hot breath against your skin.
Suddenly he sunk his teeth into you. You cried out to him. He tenderly licked the bite. "You're mine," he growled, "No one else is ever going to fuck you as good as me. No. One." You nodded at him, "I never want anyone else to fuck me, Miguel. Only you-you."
"Good girl, you belong to me," he licked your shoulder. His pace picked up, he was growing sloppy. You clawed at his back, running fingernails deep into his skin. You could feel the knot in your stomach about to unravel. You thrusted against him. His eyes shot to you, "That's it- fuck me, good girl."
Miguel teased you now. "Gonna cum on my cock? Huh? Are you? Tell me how bad you wanna cum- c'mon I wanna hear you beg for it," he hissed in your ear. The pressure on your clit deepened. You moaned loudly, "Please, Miguel! I wanna cum around your dick. Please! Want you to make me cum!" He grinned at you, "That's what I wanted to hear."
He relentlessly pounded inside you. You both were reaching your climaxes. You threw your head back as your walls fluttered around his cock. Finally, release from the burning heat inside you. "Yeah, that's it- Miguel's girl, cumming on his cock," he gritted through his teeth. He shot up inside you, desperately thrusting into you. He groaned and shook.
"Fuck," Miguel growled on top of you. His body slumped onto yours. He remained inside you not ready to pull out just yet. Your pussy still had aftershock and continued to grip around him. He placed a tender kiss on your lips.
Neither of you could make words. You had worked your bodies. Both of you panted together. He rolled off you, laying next to you. You snuggled up next to him. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you even closer. He looked at you, admiring how sexy you looked post sex. His hand went to your hair, petting you.
You leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek. He held you tight, not wanting you to leave.
"I didn't know that side of you," you spoke softly. He chuckled, "You're the only one to bring that out of me." You blushed slightly. "How are we going to explain all these hickeys?"
He ran a hand down his face in realization. He sighed. "I don't even care right now," he grumbled. You laughed at him.
"Guess that's a problem for tomorrow."
~~~
[END]
[Thank you for reading!Ā If you enjoyed what you read, make sure to check out my page! My Masterlist is pinned at the top of this page! My requests are always opened and I also have tag lists!]
