Green

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘰𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢 For the gays ; mediocre self indulgent writer

[greenohara]

green — 18, Miguel lover till death, he ; him

🕸️ ; Miguel ohara (mainly) / random others (18+ blog)

-> Masterlist // -> recent post

[greenohara]

Workaholic | Miguel Ohara x m!reader [f/s]

W/c 1.3k

Warnings: established relationship, blow job, p in a, fingering, kinda hurt comfort, Top Miguel, ooc, spider society universe

There was always an unspoken rule dating Spider-Man, he was always busy. And you've accepted that. But even then some days are harder than others.

Like today, Miguel is in one of his 'I must protect the spiderverse' moods. Locking himself in his headquarters for nearing 24 hours now. You still haven't found an effective way to counter these days, but you have lowered their occurrences.

You stand outside the massive steel doors of his private lab, hand hovering over the keypad. He hasn't answered your comms. Hasn't responded to the three meals you left outside the door, and the first two are definitely gone. Miguel's many things, but wasteful with food isn't one of them.

The override code works. It always works. Miguel pretends he doesn't know you have it.

The lab is dim, bathed in the blue glow of holographic displays that float in midair. Charts and data streams and dimensional maps swirl around the central workstation, and you have to duck under a particularly aggressive projection of what looks like a crumbling timeline before you spot him.

Oh.

Miguel's back is to you, broad shoulders hunched over a console, fingers flying across interfaces with inhuman speed. He's talking to himself, muttering, really something about anomalies and structural integrity and "no, no, no, that can't be right."

And he's in his underwear.

Not the sleek spider-suit you expected. Not even the tank top and sweatpants he sometimes changes into during all-nighters. Just. Underwear.

Black, clinging to the sharp cut of his hips, the defined muscle of his thighs. You lean against the doorframe, arms crossing, and clear your throat.

He doesn't turn. "Not now."

"Been 'not now' for twenty-three hours, Miguel."

"I have three potential dimensional collapses and a rogue variant-" He finally glances over his shoulder, and you watch the irritation flicker, then stall, then shift into something softer. Tired. He looks tired.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." You push off the frame, moving closer. The air in here is stale, recycled too many times. "You going to tell me why you're practically naked, or should I guess?"

He gestures vaguely at the screens, at himself, at everything. "Suit was chafing. Started getting annoying. This is more efficient."

"Right. Efficient." You're behind him now, close enough to smell the faint copper of stress-sweat, the metallic undertone that always clings to him. Your hands find his shoulders, and he tenses at first before melting into your touch with a barely audible exhale. "You know what else is efficient? Sleep."

"Can't. Not yet."

"Food?"

"Protein bar. Four hours ago."

"Miguel."

He turns in his chair, finally facing you fully, and the lines around his eyes are deeper than they should be. His hair is mussed, sticking up in ways that would be almost cute if the context weren't so concerning. "I'm close to figuring it out. Just... give me another hour."

You look at him. Really look. The tension bracketing his mouth. The way his hands keep twitching toward the console, like he can't help himself. The vulnerability of him here, stripped down to nearly nothing, trying to hold the multiverse together with sheer force of will.

"Let me help," you say.

He blinks. "You can't interface with the-"

"Not with the tech, Miguel." You slide your hands down from his shoulders, thumbs brushing the hollow of his throat, the notch of his collarbone. His skin is warm, fever-hot from concentration. "Let me help you."

His breath catches. You see the war in his face. The responsibility, the duty, the endless weight of being the one who has to keep it all running. And then you see him choose. Just for now. Just for here.

"Yeah?" His voice is rough, stripped of the authoritative bark he uses with the other Spiders.

"Yeah." You tilt his chin up, make him meet your eyes. "You're allowed to stop, you know. The world won't end if you take a break."

"It might."

"It won't." You kiss him, soft and brief, tasting the bitterness of too much coffee and not enough care. "Let me take care of you. Please."

He stands, slowly, unfolding from the chair with the deliberate grace of someone who's been still too long. The height difference has him looking down at you, but there's no power play in it right now, just need. Just want.

"Okay," he murmurs against your mouth. "Okay. Show me."

You guide him forwards the consoles and the glowing screens and the weight of infinite worlds, until the backs of his legs hit the edge of the vast table splayed across the area. He stands heavily, looking down at you with dark, dark eyes, and you realize he's letting you lead. Miguel O'Hara, who never lets anyone lead, is handing you the reins.

You kneel between his legs, hands sliding up his thighs, feeling the muscle jump and tense beneath your palms. He's already half-hard, you notice, probably hadn't even realized with how deep he was in the work. You press a kiss to his stomach, right below his navel, and feel him shudder.

"Tell me what you need," you say.

"Don't-" He stops, swallows. "Don't make me think. Please. Just..."

"Just touch?"

"Yeah." His hand finds your hair, not guiding, just grounding. "Yeah, that's- that's good."

You peel his boxers off slowly, and he's beautiful like this. Stripped of the suit and the authority and the endless responsibility. Just Miguel. Just yours.

You take him into your mouth and he groans, low and wrecked, head falling back as his hips twitch upward before he catches himself, reins it in.

"Sorry, sorry-"

"Don't be." You look up at him, meeting his gaze. "Let go. I've got you."

The Miguel that emerges over the next hour or something is someone only you get to see. Unguarded and messy. And now he’s returning the favor.

He works you open with fingers that are deft and impatient and somehow still gentle, watching your face with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

By the time he's slicking himself up, you're practically trembling beneath him, hands clutching at the thick table, trying to anchor yourself against the look in his eyes.

"Please," you breathe, and he makes a low sound in his throat, almost predatory, almost reverent.

He guides himself in slowly, jaw tight with restraint, watching you unravel beneath him inch by inch. You gasp, arching up to meet him, and he presses a hand to your chest to keep you still, showing you that you’re his.

"Easy," he murmurs, voice rough as gravel. "Let me. I've got you."

He sets a pace that's deliberate, controlled, nothing like the frantic energy he brings to everything else. This is focused. This is Miguel O'Hara doing what he does best. Taking charge, taking you apart, making you feel every single second.

"You're so good," he breathes against your neck, tasting salt. "So good for me, taking me like this. Thank you, for taking care of me. Just this once."

"More than once," you manage, arching into him, meeting his thrusts with a desperation that's slowly turning into something else. Something hungrier. "Promise me. More than once.

"I promise."

He strokes you in time with his movements, his calloused hand sure and steady, feeling the way you tighten around him, the way your breath hitches and stutters. You're close. He can feel it in the tremor of your thighs, the way your nails dig crescents into his back.

"Come on," he whispers, dark eyes locked on yours. "Let go for me. I've got you. I've got you."

You come with his name breaking across your lips like a prayer or a curse, and he follows you over the edge, burying his face in the curve of your shoulder, breathing you in, finally still.

After, you sit tangled together on the sprawled desk, your head on his shoulder, his fingers tracing idle patterns across your back. The holographic displays glow blue in the background.

"Twenty minutes," he mumbles, already half-asleep.

"Hour," you counter.

"Thirty minutes."

"Forty-five, and you let me make you eat something first."

He huffs out a laugh, warm against your hair. "Deal."

[greenohara]

Pass Lives | Miguel Ohara x OC tm!reader [f/s/a]

Synopsis: Caro Moonshine has spent his entire life trying to become someone no one else could define for him. After graduating from the prestigious Alchemax School for Gifted Youngsters he lands an internship under one of the company's most respected geneticists. Miguel O'Hara. After Spider-Man 2099 and after Caro's true self. They'll meet paths again as different people.

Warnings: series, slow burn, coming out, addiction, hurt comfort, transphobia, canon divergence, AU, (more to be added)

CHAPTERS—[ 1 ][ 2 ]

1. Orientation 1.7k words

I’m spam posting my drafts I have written so far on here instead of wattpad so formatting might be weird.

The badge printer at the front desk of Alchemax Tower spat out my temporary ID with a mechanical hiccup, and I watched my own face blink up at me from the little plastic rectangle a beat too long before I clipped it to my belt loop.

S. MOORE — INTERN, R&D DIVISION

Sicara Moore. The name on the badge, the name on my diploma, the name my mother had given me in a hospital room twenty-three years ago.

I told myself the tightness in my chest was excitement. I was getting good at telling myself things.

"First day nerves?" The woman behind the desk, Alchemax badge reading YOLANDA, HUMAN RESOURCES was already sliding a visitor packet and a lanyard across the marble counter without waiting for an answer. "Everybody gets them. You'll be fine, hon. R&D's on forty-one. Elevator bank C, all the way at the end, past the mural nobody looks at."

Hon. I smiled anyway, because that was the job too, smiling through the small ways the world kept sanding you down to a shape you didn't recognize.

"Thanks."

Nueva York in early September still had summer clinging to it, humidity fogging up the tower's lobby windows despite the industrial air conditioning, but forty-one floors up the climate control kicked in.

I'd graduated in May. Four years of biochemistry and materials science, a thesis on genetic replication anomalies that my advisor had called "ambitious to the point of reckless," and exactly one internship offer that didn't feel like a consolation prize.

Alchemax's summer research program took maybe thirty candidates a year out of thousands of applicants, and I still weighed the acceptance email against the possibility it had been a clerical error every single day since I'd gotten it.

The elevator doors opened onto a floor that looked less like an office and more like the inside of a spaceship someone had decorated with houseplants. Glass-walled labs lined the perimeter, technicians in half-buttoned coats moving between centrifuges and screens full of data I couldn't parse yet but desperately wanted to.

A directory board blinked coordinates at me. I found my name on the new-hire list, tucked under a division header that made my stomach drop and soar in the same second.

GENETIC RESEARCH — SUPERVISING SCIENTIST: DR. M. O'HARA

I'd heard the name in half my interviews. Whispered like a rumor, said like a warning. "You'll want to impress O'Hara. He doesn't waste time on people who can't keep up."

I found the lab at the end of the corridor, door propped with a rubber wedge, and stepped inside before I could second-guess it.

The man at the center of it didn't look up right away. He was tall in a way that made the room feel smaller, built like a nerd, hunched over a monitor with the kind of focus that made me feel like an intruder just for breathing near him.

Dark hair pushed back like he'd run a hand through it and forgotten to fix it. A pair of glasses pushed up onto his forehead instead of on his face.

He was frowning at a genetic sequence scrolling across three screens like it had personally offended him.

"You're late," he said, without turning around.

I checked my phone. "I'm four minutes early."

"You're four minutes late to my schedule." Now he turned, and I understood, instantly and unfortunately, why half the interns I'd talked to during orientation week had gone quiet and weird whenever O'Hara's name came up. It wasn't just the reputation.

The man had a face like it had been carved with intention. Sharp jaw, dark eyes that assessed rather than looked, a mouth set in something that wasn't quite a scowl but lived right next door to one. "I like fifteen minutes early. Now you know."

"Noted." I held out my hand, because my mother had raised me with manners even if she hadn't raised me easy. "Sicara Moore."

O'Hara shook it, brief and businesslike, already half-turned back toward the monitors. "Moore. You're the one with the thesis on replication anomalies."

"You read it?"

"I read the abstract. The methodology section had a flaw in the third experiment." He didn't look up from the screen. "You controlled for temperature variance but not for reagent degradation over the storage period. Explains your outlier data in week six."

I felt my face heat, and not from embarrassment exactly closer to the specific mortification of being right about someone's competence and having it turned immediately on me like a scalpel. "I caught that after submission. There's an addendum."

"I know. I read that too." Finally, O'Hara glanced at me, and there was something almost like approval buried under the flat delivery, the corporate professionalism, the general impression of a man who had already decided most of the world was too slow for him.

"It's why you're standing in my lab and not filing paperwork for the marketing division."

"Lucky me."

"Don't get comfortable. Luck runs out." He gestured at an empty station against the far wall, a workspace clearly set up in advance monitor, sequencing terminal, a stack of NDAs I'd need to sign before lunch.

"You'll be running secondary analysis on the samples I flag. You do not touch primary specimens without direct supervision. You do not run independent trials without sign-off. You do not," and here his voice dropped into something that sounded less like a rule and more like a memory, worn smooth from repetition, "cut corners because you think you already know the answer. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good." He turned back to his screens, and for a second I thought that was it, dismissal, the whole orientation compressed into ninety seconds of controlled intensity.

"Your addendum was good. Most people would rather be wrong quietly than right loudly."

I didn't know what to do with that, so I said nothing, and settled into the chair at my new station, and told myself the warmth in my chest was just the satisfaction of being taken seriously for once by someone whose approval clearly wasn't handed out for free.

—

The days folded into each other faster than I expected. Alchemax ran on a rhythm that had nothing to do with sunrise and sunset.

Labs stayed lit at all hours, someone was always mid-experiment, and Dr. O'Hara seemed to exist in the building at a frequency that suggested he either didn't sleep or slept somewhere in the tower I hadn't found yet.

He was exacting in a way that should have been exhausting and somehow wasn't, not for me, who had spent most of my life feeling like I was performing some version of myself that never quite fit right, in rooms that expected things from me I didn't know how to give. Here, at least, none of that mattered.

Miguel critiqued in short economical bursts, correcting my calculations with a red pen he clearly enjoyed too much, occasionally letting something almost like humor slip through the cracks when I pushed back on an assumption instead of just nodding along.

"You disagree," Miguel said, three weeks in, looking up from a spreadsheet I'd annotated with two full paragraphs of counterargument in the margins.

"I think your baseline's skewed. You're comparing degraded samples to fresh controls."

"I know what I'm comparing."

"Then you know it's skewed."

Miguel looked at me for a long moment, and then, unbelievably, huffed something that was almost a laugh.

"Fix it," he said, sliding the tablet back across the desk. "Show me the corrected model by Thursday."

I fixed it. I had it done by Tuesday, mostly out of spite, mostly because some stubborn, hungry part of me wanted to watch that flicker of approval cross Miguel's face again, wanted to be the exception in a building full of people Miguel clearly considered replaceable.

I told myself it was about the work. About being twenty-three and finally somewhere that measured me by what I could solve instead of everything else about me that people never stopped noticing first.

I told myself a crush on my terrifyingly competent, deeply closed-off supervisor was a distraction I didn't have room for not when I still hadn't figured out how to say certain things out loud, not even to myself, not yet.

I told myself a lot of things, that first September and most of them didn't hold.

—

It was late past nine, the lab mostly emptied out, the city outside the glass gone gold and blue with evening when I found him still at his desk, staring at a set of results that clearly weren't cooperating.

"You're still here," I said, setting two coffees down on the edge of the desk, because I'd learned by week two that Miguel drank coffee like other people drank water and never once thought to bring himself a second cup.

Miguel didn't look up right away. "Could say the same to you."

"I like the quiet." I nudged one cup closer. "Black, no sugar. I pay attention."

That got a glance, brief and unreadable, before Miguel took the cup like it was a peace offering he hadn't asked for but wasn't going to refuse. "You should go home, Moore. It's a Friday."

"So should you."

"I don't have anywhere better to be."

He said it flat, like a fact and not a confession, and something in my chest twisted at the way he said it.

Like a man who'd made peace with an empty apartment a long time ago and stopped expecting it to bother him.

I thought about the way Miguel's phone buzzed sometimes with a name that flashed Dana across the screen, the way his jaw tightened every time, the way he never once answered it in front of anyone.

"Neither do I, really," I admitted, before I could stop myself. "Not tonight."

Miguel looked at me then really looked, the kind of look that lasted a half-second too long to be professional and stopped a half-second short of anything either of us could name and for one dangerous, electric moment I thought something might actually happen.

Then Miguel's phone buzzed again, and the moment folded itself shut, and he looked back at his screen like nothing had happened at all.

"Go home, kid," he said, quieter this time. "There'll be more data tomorrow."

I went. But I thought about that half-second the entire walk to the train, and told myself, again, that it meant nothing.

I was going to be telling myself that for a long time.

[ballard96]

[greenohara]

Mafiaboss!Miguel | Miguel Ohara x tm!reader [s/f]

Warnings: Drabble, Top Miguel, insinuated crime, cock warming, dirty talk, praise kink, eating out, comfort.

Mafiaboss!Miguel who's your mafia boss, but you'd also be his.

Mafiaboss!Miguel who always has to clean up your messes no matter how many times he reminds you to keep the job clean.

Mafiaboss!Miguel who insists on doing the dirty work, not because you're incapable, but he would rather take the bullet for you.

Mafiaboss!Miguel who expects you to be in his office by the time he's finished with business for the day. Or he's in your office before you're done taking care of things.

Mafiaboss!Miguel who has his men do his bidding just to fuck you/ have more time to fuck you

Mafiaboss!Miguel who hates to be interrupted while having his way with you. You always come first to him. And don’t you even think of trying to pick up a call or a message from one of your men.

Mafiaboss!Miguel who will insist you tell him what’s wrong if you’ve had a stressful day. He can tell, but he’ll wait until you tell him first.

Mafiaboss!Miguel who loves when you cock warm him while he’s working, especially since he gets to tease you and make you beg for more. Then he occasionally bucks up into you, but never more than that until he’s done with whatever he’s doing just to add to your torture.

Mafiaboss!Miguel who is obviously into dirty talk, he loves condescendingly praising you, he’d groan into your ear “My Mafia boss taking me so well hm?” And “I know you love when I do it like this, don’t you?”

Mafiaboss!Miguel who knows exactly how to tend to your T dick. He’ll never forget to start with eating you out unless you’re in a hurry. He knows it’s your favorite, especially with how loud you get when he’s devouring you. He’d never skip out on a chance to hear you.

Mafiaboss!Miguel who will kill anyone who ever even tries to misgender you, he’ll pick up your prescription for you when you don’t feel like it, and he’ll kiss you all over while he whispers sweet nothings like “You’re my handsome fucking man, okay?”

[counterblows]

Just one more year, Miguel nation🥲🥲

[greenohara]

‘Straight’ | Miguel Ohara x tm!reader [s]

w/c <1k

Warnings: one night stand, top Miguel, ooc, fingering, p in v, under the influence, dubcon, blow job, riding, unprotected sex.

Started off as a Drabble but it might as well be a oneshot

⋆˚࿔ Miguel truly thought he was straight until he met you. He walks into the bar to let his daily stressors exit his mind for as long as he could let them.

He wasn’t a one night stand guy, his sex life was practically dead at his age, not that he was bad at bed, because he wasn’t. But sex felt like something Miguel could no longer like.

But then there you came. Your face, your figure, your everything made Miguel’s pants tighten and his heart race. Which at his age Miguel thought you just casted a spell on him.

Yes, he could blame the alcohol, but when his pants are tightening around his cock like a viper because of you it’s no longer about the alcohol. He just hasn’t met the right person. Or he just hasn’t met you. Until now of course

He’s trying to figure out what to say, he’s never flirted with a man before but he does know he needs to do something soon before his dick parks this night for him.

“What brings you here.?” Was the only thing Miguel could think of to say to you.

“Shitty small talk,” You laughed off, but kept the banter going. You’d said something about not having a real reason to be there, which gave you and Miguel something to relate to.

By the heart of the night, and a couple more drinks between you and Miguel, he finally decided his mind and boner weren’t going to pass up on you.

“So you got a girlfriend or do you swing that way?” Miguel finally said, his question implying what he wanted to come next.

“I’m single— I’m very single,” you said, the alcohol doing its magic. “And I swing that way.” But even if you didn’t you would let Miguel be the first.

It didn’t take long for you and Miguel to call a cab and go back to his place, he would rather it be his place. You never even made it to the bed. Him taking you right on the couch. You didn’t believe this was his first time with a man. He knew every spot to make you quake.

He would mutter ‘does this feel good?’ And ‘am I doing this right?’ As he worked his way from the top of your body stopping at your boxers asking for permission before sliding them down, like how everything else came off so easily.

Not only was this ‘straight’ guy on his knees sucking your T dick, but he was way too good at it.

“No fuckin’ way you’ve never did this before.” You’d groan after every other cycle of Miguel’s in and out of motion.

“Yeah? You gonna cum?” Miguel teased coming off your clit with a small pop. He did some motion as if he was looking for lube before deciding you look wet enough to go without.

Miguel was always good at everything, his fingers were like magic. Long, thick, and expertly moving in and out you in ways you’d never imagine someone could move them. You thanked god you and Miguel weren’t at your apartment.

“Fuck, Miguel—” you couldn’t help but moan, it encourage him to keep hitting that same spot. You’d beg him not to stop to no avail.

Teasing words fell easy for Miguel “Don’t worry I’m gonna fuck you properly.” He groaned, trust he didn’t want to take that long to prep you, but he knew most people weren’t ready for his size.

Which was one reason he really contemplated asking for your number. There was no other person on earth who took his cock better than you did. A man a that.

He laid back against the armrest of the couch, motioning for you come on top of him. Which you willingly and happily did. You hovered over his cock contemplating whether it would all fit, but Miguel would ultimately be the deciding factor of that short thought.

He wastes no time positions himself then letting you take the lead to adjust to his size. He never forgets to tease your T dick while you ride him and it has you seeing stars. Miguel abruptly picks up the pace fucking up into you.

“Gosh, how can you feel so good,” He’d pathetically whine. He was already so close he’d really, really, contemplated getting your number after this. “You’re fuckin’ incredible.”

Every thrust hit you deeper than the last and you were shocked you haven’t already came. But your wish was soon granted.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna cum Miguel,” you whimpered aching for release, and Miguel was too.

“Me too— fuck!” Miguel growled, before gripping your waist into his cock coming deep inside you.

He was already hard again watching his cum drip out of you. And he didn’t forget to get your number in the morning.

[oneshotslol]

Unconventional Workplace Romance

Pairing: coworker Miguel O'Hara x somewhat oblivious trans-male reader, workplace romance with a slight twist

Genre: fluff, eventual smut in part II

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 2,287

"Can you get these done for me?" My boss asked before I could even make it to my desk.

"Yeah of course, could you do me a favor, and take it to my desk please?" I asked with an overwhelmed smile, considering the state my hands were in.

The work I had to do last was taking up all of the capacity my arms could take.

"Of course" My boss, Phil, said following me to my cute office I shared with Miguel O'Hara.

"Thank you sir" I said handing him the work I got done yesterday before he left to go back to his own office.

I looked at my desk with the new paper work I needed to fill out and sort. Along with the new work a box of whoppers and a coke with a sticky note on it, had been placed on my desk.

I smiled at the familiar gifts that had been left every day since I met the one and only Miguel.

I hadn't said anything to him about it but I did take the note with the usual joke or inspiring quote and compared the handwriting to his paper work.

I settled down and got comfy in my chair before Miguel made it back to our shared space.

Miguel and I had gotten along well, when we first met but now we were quickly getting closer. He was a sweetheart when he liked you if not he was stone cold in a way.

He had selective empathy for sure. With me he was funny and soft, He would kill me for saying that though.

We worked at a PR firm, and even though we worked in the same space we were naturally each other's direct competition.

I smiled opening the whoppers on my desk. I had just started to do my work once Miguel finally found his way back to our office.

"Good and bad news to start your long day in the office." Miguel smiled at me and sat in his office chair.

"like usual" I smiled at the taller man as he started his small rant.

"Alright so you know how the Mia company needs some new brand management?"

"Yeah?"

"So Phil has started a contract with her! but she gets to choose only one of us."

"Wait its only us going to New York for this??" I asked before shoving another whopper in my mouth.

"Yup the only downside is we cant work together on this so we are rivals" He said with his signature smirk.

"That's perfect so I can finally be on top of you... wait." I couldn't help but laugh when I realized what I said.

Miguel stifled his laugh and grumbled something under his breath.

Before I could ask what he said our boss knocked and came into the office.

"Your flight is in the morning so I want you both to make your pitches then go home and get some rest okay? Remember 5:00 a.m."

"Thank you sir for this opportunity." I smiled at him as he said a quick "of course" and left.

"You better not let me have this opportunity, you better work just as hard as me." I said turning my chair to face him.

"I would never miss out on an opportunity like this." He smiled, while his eyes lingered on me before getting to work.

The day went by quickly because of how hard I was working on this pitch. This was one of the few good opportunities I have been given. I was usually given the stubborn clients with the worst case against them.

Last week this guy needed me to help with his social media account because he said slow people deserve to die. He was an ignorant guy, but I made it work.

"Hey do you need a ride tomorrow?" Miguel asked cutting into my thoughts.

"Um I am not sure probably, my car might not make it too far." I said starting to pack up my stuff after finishing my presentation.

"I'll come get you, I dont trust that jeep to be completely honest." Miguel said not offering me a way out of going with him.

"Well I just finished, so im gonna head out." I said standing up to face him better.

"Do you need a ride?" He said leading the way out.

"No my jeep is here."

"Mm right" He giggled slightly as we made our way to the car garage.

He followed me to my car and watched me get situated. My window was open like usual, so Miguel could properly get his goodbyes in.

"wait it feels a little low to the ground can you check my tires" I said wondering if I needed to put air in my tire on the way home.

"Um im not a car genius, but im pretty sure these tires are slashed." Miguel said imeadently floored at his discovery.

I quickly got out of my car to see what he was talking about.

"OMG WHAT THE FUCK!!" I could not believe my eyes, and my bank account couldn't believe it either.

I took a deep breathe and smiled at Miguel to ask for a ride home.

"looks like you're in luck handsome, don't worry my car is ready for you." Miguel spun his keys on his pointer finger with a smirk.

I shook my head sheepishly and got my stuff out of my busted down car

"why don't you buy a new one?" Miguel asked opening his passenger door for me.

"I'm actively saving up for a truck, trust I'm trying"

"Mm I can help if you need." Miguel said starting up his car and looking over to me.

"I mean you could but I'm not excepting your help."

"why not?? We're good friends!! I love helping friends. Besides my father loves you it would be more like him helping you."

"Because I want to buy my own car and after I get this deal I'll have more than enough money."

The drive to my house was

"right of course, I'll just gift you a car then." Miguel said opening his door after pulling into my garage.

I groaned and opened my door as well. Miguel met me at my side of the car to grab the stuff in my hand so I can unlock my front door.

"I need to pee real quick before I go" Miguel said following behind me.

"Did I say you could come in?" I said blocking the door spreading my body across the doorway to keep him out, jokingly ofc.

"Do you want me to pee myself, kitkat?" Miguel moved closer to me to be a tease.

"Don't bring back the kitkat nickname please" I said walking into my living room that was just in front of the front door.

"why not? you were ltterally obsessed with them for a good 4 months straight." Miguel said making his way through my house to my bathroom.

"yeah, but its embarrising especially in front of our coworkers, like when you knew I had a crush on James from HR and all you did was call me sweet nicknames to get a reaction from me, oh and by the way before he left the company he said he thought me and you were dating, you totally ruined my chances at some hot ass"

By the time my ramble was half way done miguel was already in the bathroom as I stood near the door. The walls at my house were extremly thin.

"He was definitely not " hot ass" more like a steaming pile of dog shit." Miguel opened the door after I heared the faucet start and the splashing of his hands in the sink.

"He was not that bad, maybe a little but not like crazy bad." I said subconciously leading him into my living room.

"yeah right, he was dating like three girls at the same time while also sleeping with two more.

"I didn't know that at the time though and I assumed he could and would change for me, but anyways Im fully over assholes now only good guys from now on." I said leaning on my second-hand couchI got off of Facebook marketplace.

"yeah right" Miguel said settling his feet in front of mine, looking down at me, like usual.

"I'm serious you know!" I said with a slight pout.

"Of course, but save a spot for me alright?" Miguel said with a smile as he moved to leave.

"Wait wha-" I said a little flabbergasted.

"We have an early flight tomorrow, get some sleep, I'll be here at 4:00 am sharp. Goodnight handsome."

"good night Miguel, see you in a few hours." I said opening the door for him.

After he left i took a nice shower and changed into comfy clothes before hopping into bed to get on my phone.

After an hour I fell swiftly asleep and before you knew it, it was 5am and Miguel had already taken me to the airport and you were both sat in first class. I was incredibly tired and Miguel's soft masculine smell wasn't helping. Even though he was a little scary looking (as well as super hot) he was a big supportive softy.

I woke up near the end of the plane ride with my head on Miguel's large muscular arms. He was still in a deep sleep, with his head on mine and a soft snore leaving his lips.

I smiled and slightly shook him awake as the plane landed. He stretched his arms out and yawned as everyone in first class started to unbuckle their seat belts and standing up.

Miguel got to work quickly getting our bags from the top compartment on the plane. He took both of our suitcases and willingly took them to the car with no complaints.

"I can take mine I'm a big boy you know." I said jokingly flashing my biceps in a cocky way.

"I'm just being a gentleman, so be a good boy and let me show you what a good guy is and how he hould act." He said recalling our conversation from yesterday that I chose to forget so I wouldn't malfunction on this work trip with my hot coworker.

I weirdly never thought of him as an option, yes he is good looking and he is sweet, and he flirts with me, but he is wayy out of my league, so I assume hes joking with me like those straight guys do with their other unassuming straight guys friends.

I didn't realize I was day dreaming untill we suddenly made it to the rental we got from the company. It was a nice Mercedes and before I could offer to drive Miguel already opened the passenger door for me.

as we both get settled in this unfamiliar expensive car I cant help but stare at him as he puts his arm on my headrest to look at the back window and uses a flat palm on the steering wheel to get us out of the parallel parking situation.

"You know this car has a back camera for backing up right?" I ask in one of my know it all tones.

"Yeah its just a habit I haven't let go of since my first old ass car." He said with a sweet reminiscing smile.

I laughed a little at his cute expression as I looked at his brooding features.

"What??" He pouts slightly confused as he side eyes me.

"nothing you're just cute." I said playfully shoving his shoulder.

"Really cute? That's new. I've never been called that before."

"Well you are" I say as we pull into the hotel parking.

We get our suit cases and make our way to the front desk. The hotel has a nice clean smell with somewhat modern architecture. The lady at the front had a friendly aura to her. Her hair was a redish brown and she had thin glasses that seemed to be sliding down her nose. She smiled at us as we walked to her.

"How may I help you today gentleman?" She says, her eyes switching between me and Miguel reminding me of our pretty obnoxious height difference.

"We should have 2 rooms under Phil." Miguel says pulling his wallet out for his ID.

"Um it says there has been a problem with one of the rooms sink so we only have one room for you, sorry for the inconvenience." She says looking ready to take the berating customer service workers usually has to deal with.

Miguel and I cant help but look at each other in a little bit of shock, and small hints of tension can be felt between us.

"I'm sure that will be fine." Miguel says with a understanding smile, not even giving me a chance to put my two cents in. (It's not like I had a problem with it but still)

The Lady smiles at us and hands Miguel the key cards, that ultimately end up in my hand since Miguel took both of our suitcases not accepting complaints.

Open our hotel room door to get settled into the place we will be staying in for the next two weeks together.

It is a nice spacious room, with warm lighting and a noticeable amount of natural light from the glass door that leads to a cute balcony. The bed looked to be a queen size, with red blankets and pillow covers. My butt sank into the plush mattress as I sat down.

Miguel smiled and jumped into bed, kicking his slides off the side of the bed.

"Finally a bed!!" Miguel imeadently started to get comfy.

Thank you for reading!! part II will be out soon! It was supposed to be a one shot but I switched phones and I lost it.

Taglist

@greenohara @th1agolution

[greenohara]

Missing you | Miguel Ohara x m!reader [s]

w/c <1k

Warnings: Top Miguel, p in a, established relationship, soft Miguel, ooc, stealing, fingering, Spanish petnames. An older fic

After a long day of work I was spent, I turned the key to my apartment and quickly jumped in the shower.

Once I was done I went into my room with my favorite towel wrapped around me. I looked around for the boxers I had folded before I went to work but they were gone? I needed those because I had no other cleans ones at the moment.

"What the- I swear they were right here." I groaned to myself in frustration. Next thing I seen, Miguel coming out of a portal.

"All ripe and ready for me I see?" Miguel teased.

"Stop taking my boxers." I stated.

"I didn't take them." Miguel replied. That little liar.

"I know you did, you can't go a single second without something of mine." I responded. Silence filled the room for a second or so, Miguel approaching me.

"And what's the harm in that?" Miguel said, picking me up and placing me on the bed. "You know, work had me away from you at all times. I miss you." Miguel said with that glint in his eyes.

Miguel's statement caught me off guard, but before I could respond, he had already started kissing me passionately.

His hands roaming my body, sending shivers down my spine. I couldn't resist his touch any longer, I gave into my desires and let myself get lost in the moment.

As we continued to kiss, Miguel's hands found their way under my towel, teasing me with every touch. My mind was clouded with pleasure as he trailed kisses down my neck and chest.

This was something we hadn't done in a while and it felt exhilarating. I couldn't help but moan as Miguel's lips trailed lower, reaching the sensitive spot above my pelvis. He knew exactly how to drive me wild and he was doing just that.

"I'm going all the way tonight, are you ready?" Miguel said again between kisses.

I spoke in agreement and all the stress from work vanished as Miguel brought me to a state of pure bliss. His hands moved lower and soon enough we were completely lost in each other. Miguel took his fingers putting them in my mouth, I sucked on them in desperation.

As much as I wanted him to just put it in, I hadn't prep myself in awhile and he had a monster in those pants. After a little he took them out and I whimpered in the loss of contact.

"So needy, but don't worry mi amor I'll give you what you want." Miguel said as he inserted his now coated fingers earning a moan from the sudden friction of his thick fingers. He continued to work me over, my body pulsating with every stroke. The anticipation was killing me. Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, Miguel whispered, "I'm putting it in."

I could hear the excitement in his voice and I knew that he was about to give me exactly what I've been wanting. As he positioned himself, I could feel the immense size of him, and the thought of him entering me overwhelmed me with delight. With a deep breath, I embraced him, feeling his warmth and strength surrounding me. He slowly pushed into me, his dick stretching me to accommodate his size. It was painful, yet exhilarating. Miguel's breaths were ragged, and I could tell he was trying to control his own desires.

"Oh, Miguel, I need you, now more than ever," I pleaded, wanting him to ease my pain and fulfill my every desire.

Miguel's eyes locked with mine, his gaze filled with a mix of love, lust, and determination. He picked up his pace, slowly thrusting into me, eliciting a mix of pleasure and pain. I clung to him, feeling his every movement. Each thrust brought me closer to the edge, but I still ached for more.

"Please, Miguel, fuck me harder," I begged, my voice shaky with need. Miguel grinned wickedly, his eyes darkening with desire. He increased his pace, pounding into me with short, sharp thrusts. I moaned, my body responding to his every movement. The pleasure was overwhelming.

"I'm so close—" I moaned.

"M-me too." Miguel said in between thrusts, his pace slowing down as he was getting closer.

"Let's cum together." I told Miguel, as he pulled me in his embrace.

With one final surge, Miguel thrust himself deep inside me, and I felt his warmth flood me, a wave of ecstasy washing over me. As our bodies shook with pleasure, I wrapped my legs around his hips, desperately clinging to him, my nails digging into his skin.

"Miguel." I whimpered, my voice shaky and breathy. "I love you so much."

Miguel smiled, his eyes filled with love and tenderness. "I love you too, cariño ." He gently whispered in my ear, before we lay there, our bodies still connected, basking in the afterglow of our passion.

We laid there, our hearts beating in sync, our breathing slowly returning to normal. For a moment, there was nothing but us, surrounded by the hazy aftermath of our lovemaking.

When Miguel finally managed to find the strength to pull apart. Planting me with kisses before he picked me up to go shower.

[greenohara]

Your glasses? | Miguel Ohara x m! reader [f]

w/c <1k

Warnings: Top Miguel, established relationship, short fic, ooc. Posting some old stuff while I write.

It was a beautiful day in Nueva York, my universe, with the sunshine and breeze lifting my spirits.

The recent string of gloomy days made today's clear skies even more enjoyable. I was eager to spend this beautiful day with Miguel.

However, dating Spider-Man meant he was often busy, a trade-off I had to accept. Still, I longed for time together with my boyfriend. Who wouldn't?

Unable to resist, I grabbed my phone to text Miguel about my plans. When he didn't respond right away, I assumed he was tied up with work. Then, I texted him on the watch he gave me for emergencies, knowing he'd see it.

Me:

Hey Miguel I wanted to see if you were free today because I want to hangout and you weren't answering your phone

Miguel:

Yeah babe I'm free. Not right now that's why I didn't pick up but I'll be at your house soon.

Me:

Okay luv ya <3

Miguel:

Love you too, more than you know mi vida.

I smiled at his last text, savoring his words. Feeling energized, I decided to freshen up. I chose shorts, a collared t-shirt, and the necklace Miguel gave me for our anniversary. After styling my hair a bit, I lay down on my bed to plan our day.

Experience had taught me that Miguel's "soon" often meant I had some time. So, I started scrolling through my phone for ideas.

Eventually, I stumbled upon an ad for a theme park. It sounded like a blast, so I went ahead and booked the tickets.

Now, all that was left was to wait for Miguel to arrive. To pass the time, I scrolled through Instagram and even learned a dance or two to my favorite song on TikTok. Before I knew it, hands snaked around my waist.

"Don't even use the door anymore?" I said playfully.

"Do I need to?" Miguel chuckled.

"Just stop creeping up on me," I said, slipping out of his grip.

"Mmhm, so what are we doing today, amor?" Miguel asked, his hands finding their way back around my waist.

"We're going to the theme park, and you can't say no because I already bought the tickets," I replied with a smug grin, showing him the tickets.

"You know I'll never say no to you," Miguel stated.

"That's what I like to hear. Now get off me and go wash up. Who knows what universe you've been in," I joked, half-seriously.

"Alright, alright. I have to listen to whatever my Príncipe says," Miguel finished as he walked off to shower.

I settled on the couch, getting caught up in whatever show was on TV. Time flew by, and soon Miguel was coming down the hallway. I gestured for him to follow me out the door.

"Wait a sec," Miguel said, sounding worried.

"What is it?" I asked, concerned.

"My glasses," Miguel stated. I tried to hold back my laugh but failed.

"Y-your glasses?" I said between giggles.

"This is no laughing matter," Miguel insisted. "I'm not leaving without them."

"I'm sorry, but since when did you wear glasses?" I laughed.

"I've always had them; I just don't wear them," Miguel said.

"So why do you need them now? We're going to a theme park," I questioned, confused about why he suddenly wanted to wear them.

"Because," Miguel trailed off nervously. I looked at him, bewildered. "Because I heard you on the phone one day."

"Oh my god," I muttered to myself, realizing he was talking about the time I told my best friend that men with glasses were a turn-on.

"So you're looking for them now to impress me?" I asked.

"Maybe?" Miguel admitted reluctantly, his pride holding him back. I walked up to him, cupping his face in my hands.

"Babe, I'll always love you no matter what you look like. I didn't think something like that would get to you. I'm sorry," I said sincerely.

"I know, but sometimes I'm scared I'm not enough. I haven't been the best boyfriend, and I know you wish I could be there more, and I—" I interrupted his rambling with a kiss.

"It's okay, Miguel, because I love you. You're my one and only. Forever and always," I spoke softly.

"I love you too, mi vida," Miguel responded, his appreciation evident in his eyes.

[greenohara]

MASTER 🕸️ LIST

— Reblogging/ translation is allowed. Please credit !! @greenohara when doing so. —

💌 is open ; taglist is open

[s] —smut ; [a] —angst ; [f] —fluff

Oneshots

Your glasses? | TopMiguel ohara x male reader [f]

Missing you | TopMiguel Ohara x male reader [s]

‘Straight’ | TopMiguel Ohara x transmale reader [s]

Workaholic | TopMiguel Ohara x male reader [f/s]

Drabbles / imagines

Mafiaboss!Miguel x transmale reader [f/s]

Series

Pass lives | TopMiguel x transmale reader [f/s/a][ 1 ][ 2 ]