𝐀/𝐍: This was actually supposed to be a short Drabble but turned out to be just over 2k words. So it’s a small one shot now. Also inspired by @bluesidez fic here, from her Trending Couples series
𝐂𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐖: Wife!Reader, teasing from reader, Miguel getting slightly annoyed, smut, overstimulation
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A single word— ‘boyfriend’— is all it takes to unsettle Miguel after a long day. But when his wife’s teasing refuses to let up, his irritation brews into something deeper.
If there was one thing that Miguel had learnt from married life, it was to expect the unexpected— especially being married to you. Still, tonight had him thrown off in a way he couldn’t shake.
At first, everything seemed ordinary. He swung across the city, the night wind tugging at his suit before he slipped quietly through the bedroom window.
Exhaustion seeped into his bones after a gruelling day, maintaining another canon event, handling repairs at HQ. All he wanted now was a moment of peace with you.
He found you propped against the headboard, phone pressed to your ear. Your voice was light and familiar. From the warmth of your tone, he guessed you were talking to a friend. When you noticed him, you offered a smile before returning to your call.
It wasn’t your smile that got his attention. It was what you said next.
“Oh, speaking of. My boyfriend just came home. I’ll talk to you soon.”
The words lodged itself in Miguel’s chest, sharp and jagged. For a moment, he thought his exhaustion was making him hear things.
But no, he heard you. His muscles tense and his tired body was suddenly on alert as though he’d been jolted back into a fight.
“What did you just call me?” his voice was edged with disbelief as he stepped closer, trying to process your odd choice of words.
You ended your call and set the phone aside with feigned ignorance. “What are you talking about?”
“You just called me your… boyfriend,” he repeated. The word tasted wrong on his tongue, almost insulting. He leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest.
“Oh, boyfriend!” You grinned, as if you hadn’t just upended his evening. “Well, technically you are, right? But lawfully—”
“Husband,” Miguel cut in, frowning. “Legally, I’m your husband. Which means something more than ‘technically.’”
“I think boyfriend has a better ring to it,” you teased, slipping out of bed with a careless shrug.
Miguel scoffed, the sound sharp but restrained. He could see exactly what you were doing— baiting him, needling at his pride. And yet, irritation simmered beneath him anyways.
“Seriously? Boyfriend? We’re married. That’s a commitment you can’t just downplay with semantics.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you say,” you sang lightly, brushing past him on your way out.
Miguel could only watch you leave, his expression hardened. Normally, he wouldn’t let something like this get to him. But your nonchalant attitude and the way you’d dismissed it— after smiling so brightly at someone else on the phone— didn’t sit right with him.
The word felt heavier than they should and he didn’t know why.
Of all the things he expected to come home to, this was not one of them. He couldn’t fathom where it came from— or why you were so adamant on calling him your boyfriend of all things.
The more he thought about it, the more agitated he became. It seemed like an intentional jab to undermine your marriage.
Still, he forced himself to let it go. At least for now. Maybe by the morning you’d forget about it. Maybe it was a dare, some joke your friend put you up to. He wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of overreacting.
Instead, he focused on his usual routine— disengaging his suit and changing it in his sweatpants. Though, his mood was still sulky.
By the time he slid under the covers, his body language was rigid. His arms were at his sides, his back refused to curve toward yours. The bed beside him dipped as you climbed into bed. He expected nothing and he made no move to pull you closer.
But then, just before he could seeth any further, you leaned over and kissed his nose before nestling down with a soft sigh. As though nothing in the world could bother you.
Your gesture instantly melted his annoyance like sunlight cutting fog. He turned his head, watching the gentle rise and fall of your breathing. Despite the lingering irritation, he still felt a wave of affection for you.
Rolling to his side, he let his gaze linger on you. The word boyfriend still echoed like a nagging burr caught in fabric. But beyond that was the aching love that washed over him.
He let out a sigh, and let everything fade enough until he fell asleep.
~
The following morning began quietly enough, the events from last night were far at the back of Miguel’s mind. He padded into the kitchen, still half groggy from sleep but alert enough to notice you in the kitchen making breakfast.
“Morning…” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he yawned.
“Good morning, boyfriend.”
The word hit harder in the morning light. Blood thrummed hot in his ears, his jaws tightened. Without the haze of exhaustion dulling him, the sound felt sharper.
“Are you still on this boyfriend thing?” he asked flatly.
He reached for the coffee pot and poured himself a much-needed cup of caffeine. The soft clink of the mug against the counter was the only sign of his restraint as he sat at the table, fixing you with a narrowed gaze.
“What’s the deal here, anyways? Why are you milking this?”
He waited for your explanation but all he got was a look of innocence from you, sliding a plate into his place. “Hmm… nothing.”
Miguel arched an eyebrow, unamused by your response. He knew you well enough to tell that there was definitely something.
He opened his mouth to press again—
“Eat up,” you said simply.
As always.
He scowled at the timing, at how easily you disarmed him, but still picked up his fork.
“Don’t try to distract me from the topic,” he muttered before taking a bite. And damn it, it tasted good!
The rest of the morning passed and you didn’t bring up the boyfriend stunt again. Though the word still lingered in his head. By the time he engaged his suit, adjusted his watch, and stepped through the portal to HQ, he carried it with him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
Later that day, while on duty, his thoughts naturally drifted back to you. He pulled out his communicator and typed a quick message.
'Hey, I've got a parcel coming in today, just a heads-up.
- Your husband, Miguel O'Hara, your legal spouse. Remember him?'
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he read his own message. He knew you were likely rolling your eyes. Or even muttering about how dramatic he was. The thought amused him enough to keep the message as-is.
A few minutes later, he received a reply from you. And he couldn’t help but be amused by your response, purposefully avoiding his ‘husband’ comment.
‘Your package arrived’
Miguel perched back in his chair, his mask retracting as a low chuckle escaped him. If anyone else were around, he wouldn’t have let himself smile or indulge in the warmth that seated his chest at the thought of you.
‘Good. I’m assuming you haven't opened it,’ he typed back.
Your reply came through a moment later.
‘Package is safe. Don’t worry about it’
~
That evening, you didn’t make dinner since the fridge was still packed with leftovers. Miguel opened the door, already halfway pulling out a container when part of him wondered if the whole boyfriend thing had died with the morning.
He thought too soon.
“There should be some extra food on the top shelf,” you called lightly from the counter. “For my boyfriend.”
Miguel’s hand froze around the Tupperware. His grip tightened around on the fridge door until the hinges creaked. Slowly, he turned his head.
“You mean me?”
You tilted your head. “Hmm… do I?”
“Amor…” his voice was a warning, low and rough, “don’t start.”
You casually leaned on the counter, watching him with that mischievous expression. He could feel his patience fraying, the thin thread of his restraint wearing down to nothing. With a heavy sigh, he shut the fridge door and turned to face you fully.
“I’m your husband,” he said firmly. “We file taxes together. We had a whole wedding ceremony. How much more proof do you want?”
“You were a really cute boyfriend,” you countered with a shrug. “I miss him.”
That landed harder than he wanted to admit. His chest tightened, a cocktail of offense and something else he couldn’t put his finger on— insecurity? Jealousy? Were you trying to say you preferred what he used to be?
“He didn’t go anywhere,” Miguel muttered defensively.
You crossed your arms over yourself. “I dunno. My husband is kind of serious. No spontaneous kisses at my desk. No sneaking me pastries anymore. The boyfriend was more fun."
Miguel could only stare. Something sharp twisted inside him, and for a moment, he didn’t know if he wanted to argue or drag you into his arms right now. His jaws flexed as he turned away, muttered under his breath.
And that was when he decided— later tonight, he was going to remind you why husband was the upgrade.
~
Your hands twisted tighter into the sheets as his chest pressed firmly against your back, caging you in. Being on all fours meant you were completely helpless under his mercy. Every shift of his weight showed how much bigger, stronger, more unyielding he was.
“Still thinking about your boyfriend?” His voice rumbled low, dark— so close to your ear, it vibrated down your spine. His words came in hot and deliberate.
Your back arched as he drove into you from behind— slow and deep thrusts that made it impossible to think of anything else but him. Your thoughts scattered and your world narrowed to the way he filled you.
He had been quiet for too long, holding his restraint until it finally snapped. Now, every thrust carried with intent— to remind you exactly why you married him.
He made sure you felt every inch of him, dragging it out, grinding it in, watching how your body shivered and clenched around him.
A gasp tore from your lips when his hand suddenly wrapped around your jaw— not cruel, but enough to tilt your face until your eyes caught his. His pace sharpened, his hips slammed harder, his eyes burnt with intensity.
“¿Quién soy, entonces?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, his breath scorching.
“M-my husband,” you breathed out.
“Otra vez.”
Again.
And again.
Each repetition was broken by the rhythm of his thrusts, until your voice shook and your arms gave out, collapsing onto the mattress.
But Miguel didn’t stop. His pace became relentless, pounding deeper, grinding the words into your head. His chest pressed harder against your back until you were reduced to nothing but gasps, moans and broken fragments of his name.
“Mirame, baby,” he groaned, voice rough with satisfaction. “No boy ever fucked you like this. Only your husband. Say it.”
You barely manage to get it out. “My husband— fuck, Miguel— my husband…”
“Louder.”
“Ah— Husband-!” you squealed.
Miguel adjusted his knees, angling himself deeper and dragging another raw cry from you. His hands gripped your sides tighter as your body quivered beneath him.
Finally, after a few more rolls from his hips, his climax tore through him in heavy, pulsing waves until your walls were stained with him. His body shuddered as he pressed into you.
For a long moment he stayed there, chest pressed hot against your back, heartbeat pounding against your spine. His touch softened, his grip easing until his hand slid down and interlaced with yours as you both trembled through the aftershock.
“That’s better,” he whispered, voice calmer now but still tough around the edges. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
He kept himself inside you, feeling himself soften with your walls still snug around him. One of his hands released from the grip on your side and reached for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours.
You whimpered his name, soft and aching, and he pressed a kiss to your temple.
“I got you, amor,” he breathed. “Always.”
Cross-posting fics on tumblr feels like a humiliation ritual now
ᤢ . 𝓢ummary ♥︎ ੭ a dumb fling in college resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. miguel never knew since you ghosted him after graduation and never saw each other again. seven years later, you’ve been living a double life as a single mother and a thief, taking risks to provide for your daughter. who would’ve thought the famous spiderman you keep running into is also your baby daddy.
“gabi, you need to brush your teeth or you’re gonna be late for school again!”
“can i finish this episode of gumball first, mamá?”
“no mija, you have to get ready.”
“but mamá, por favor.”
“gabriella.” a tinge of sternness but gentle.
the seven year old pouts before rising from her chair, walking to the kitchen to place down her bowl of recent eaten cereal, and head to the bathroom. your heart aches every time you see that disappointed look on her face. it’s understandable but you all have to get a move on in the world if you wanna keep your job and not get gabriella in trouble at school.
that’s how life has been for the past seven years, you going to work and gabriella at school. well, two years of school since gabriella recently started 1st grade. it was all in a blink of an eye. remembering her very first day of school and how you cried while watching her walk to her classroom with the other kids, letting go of your baby girl into the world. remembering when she was born on a rainy afternoon. it was a family reunion when your water broke and everyone panicked. next thing you knew, a little girl wrapped in a pink blanket like a cocoon was laying in your arms. sun-kissed skin, a plethora of brown hair, and the most beautiful pair of brown eyes. you didn’t question where she got those features from. you thought of him in that moment, a shame he wasn’t there but it was your fault he wasn’t.
it was back in college, a time of exploration and experimentation. there was this boy in your biology class. soft brown hair, thickest eyebrows, sharpest cheekbones known to man, thick black rimmed glasses settled over the prettiest browns eyes and cute nose, way above the average male height, a total gym rat but the nerdiest dude ever.
miguel o'hara.
a name you never forgot.
even to this day, it still haunts you.
he was your assigned tutor since biology wasn’t your strongest subject and the last thing you wanted was to fail the class. it was a little awkward at first since you were both introverts, especially miguel because that boy barely socialized at all. kept to himself, only had one friend, rarely went out. despite being a total antisocial creature, miguel was damn smart. carried such intelligence and had a passion for science, specifically for biology. hence why he majored in that field. because of his big brain, you were able to pass the class. eventually, the tutorship turned into friendship until one night at a party where you both drank a little too much and lost your virginities to each other in the bed of some mutual friend. his calloused hands roaming your body, whispering soft praises into your ear as he slowly pumped himself in you. it was the night that changed everything.
friends with benefits is what you put it as, or a situationship. two friends who would occasionally fuck. neither you or miguel considered officially being together yet the feelings taunted you both like a virus. you weren’t his girlfriend but damn did you feel like it. it was a fucking mess of mixed signals. miguel being so sweet and caring towards you yet felt so distant at the same time. in public, you put on a show of a simple friendship. but behind closed doors, his cock was shoved deep inside of you and made sure you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day. at the time, you didn’t think of it as much. you and miguel still maintain your friendship while hooking up. despite the feelings you harbor for each other.
until the consequences caught up.
it was a week before graduation when you found out you were pregnant. that morning you shed so many tears, your roommate xina was worried when she found you balling your eyes out in the bathroom. despite her words of comfort, you still felt like shit. she knew of you and miguel, although she did warned about this stupid situationship but of course your dumbass didn’t listen. now it was biting you in the ass. a harsh slap in the damn face. but the unplanned pregnancy wasn’t the only worst thing.
a weeks ago, miguel mentioned he got an internship at alchemax, a company he’s been dying to join. you never witnessed so much enthusiasm and happiness in those pretty brown eyes when he told you. he was so genuinely happy, your heart fluttered with joy. you were happy for him. he already had his life planned after college and you didn’t want to ruin that. just imagine you’re about to start your life then a bombshell of an unexpected pregnancy comes out and now you can’t achieve your dreams? you didn’t have the heart to tell him. you couldn’t do that to him because you loved him too much to hurt him.
so you made the worst decision of your life.
you never told miguel about the pregnancy.
instead, you ghosted him right after graduation. during that last week of school, you avoided him at all cost. ignored the numerous texts, calls, voicemails that blew up on your phone. every time you stared at his name on the screen and never answered, a piece of your heart broke. avoiding him on campus was hard. the numerous times xina told you when miguel was looking you, the sad look on his face when she told him she hadn’t seen you shattered your heart more. it hurt so fucking bad to ignore the man you loved. yes, you did loved miguel. you gave him your heart and the idiot didn’t even know.
the fucked part was that you never knew he was looking for you during graduation. the moment everyone tossed their caps in the air, you walked out of the stadium with tears running down your cheeks and a broken heart. since there was hundreds of students, it was impossible to find you in a sea of people wearing that same damn thing. you didn’t know how desperate miguel was searching for you. you didn’t know how heartbroken he was when miguel never found you and figured out you blocked him on everything when he tried to call you.
you never saw each other again.
it was the worst summer of your life. pregnant and unsure whether to keep it or not. after many serious conversations with your parents, you decided to keep it. with the support of your family, you were going to be okay. however, of course they weren’t happy when you first told them about the pregnancy. oh the look of murder on their faces when you told them miguel was the father, you knew he would’ve been way under than six feet in the ground. don’t be mistaken, they were pissed at you too for being irresponsible and not telling miguel. the sad thing is that your parents liked miguel, a good young man. they even thought you two would get married someday. but unfortunately that never came true.
that first year after college was fucking rough. it was actually an okay pregnancy, it was just the fact you were pregnant and couldn’t start your life the way you imagined it months ago. eventually, life went on and you had your beautiful baby girl gabriella. the greatest gift you could ever received. until she was three, you had been living with your parents while looking for jobs and have someone take care of gabi. you did manage to find a secretary position for some company that paid well enough to the point of you moving out and getting place of your own. unfortunately, that ended horribly when the CEO of the company was exposed for having multiple sexual relations with employees and gambling issues. losing that job heavily effected you and gabriella. it was terrible to the point of almost getting evicted but in the nick of time you found another job you have now, waitress at a diner. significantly lower pay than your previous job but you took what you could get and pay those damn bills and provide for gabriella.
however, the waitress pay was still not enough to support you both. there wasn’t much alternative options, it was both frustrating and a struggle. endless nights of silent tears trailing down your cheeks, desperately trying to find a better job while gabriella was sleeping in her room. you felt like a terrible mother, not doing enough for your daughter. all you wanted is to give her a good childhood, grow up in a safe and loving environment. you were doing everything you could for her, even if costed your mental health. a parent would do anything for their child. so, you decided to take a risk.
there were local jewelry stores around, owned the most prettiest elegant pieces. during nights when gabriella was babysat by your parents or a neighbor, you slip into black latex suit and sneak off to the jewelry shops. thanks to the two years of gymnastics when you were a kid, you were pretty flexible and swift through the city effortlessly. being stealthy was natural to you, it was easy to break in and steal whatever jewelry you could snatch. you knew this was bad, you knew you were committing a crime. all of your life, you were a good decent person. held good morals and never indulged in bad habits. well, besides getting knocked up in college. until you’re left with no options, you had to make a sacrifice. you were a mother now, you had to do it for the sake of your daughter. no matter what.
that’s how you became the infamous black cat.
a hardworking single mother by day, a thief by night.
it’s been like this for a few years and you’ve yet to be caught. it is the reason why you’ve been able to remain living in the same apartment and have food on the table for your little family. you also got a dog, weiner dog cocker spaniel mix named bella. since gabriella is often alone and didn’t have anyone to play with at home, a dog seemed like the best option. besides, you’ve always wanted a dog. gabi loves bella so much, always playing together. laughter and squeals echoing throughout the apartment as bella happily chases gabi. a sight that melts your heart. your perfect little family that you love dearly.
“gabi! let’s go, mija!”
you hear little footsteps running, making you smile. “i’m here!” gabriella runs in with her backpack.
“here’s your lunch.” you hand her monster high lunchbox that matches her backpack.
“gracias, mama! did you put the gummies in there?”
“i did, just remember to eat it after your quesadillas, okay?” you cup her cheek.
“yes, mama.” she nods, smiling brightly.
you smile back before leaning down to kiss her forehead. “bien, let’s put our shoes on.”
“bye, bella! i’ll miss you!” gabi crouches down to hug the dog after putting on her twinkle toes. she started learning to tie her shoes on her own, smart girl.
you kiss bella goodbye before heading out the door with gabi holding your hand. exiting the apartment building, you make it to gabi’s bus stop where other kids are waiting with their parents as well.
“you have a good day, mija. te quiero mucho.” you crouch in front of her, holding her tiny hands in yours.
“te quiero, mamá. bye!” you gave her a final kiss on the forehead before letting her run off to the bus, babbling with her friends as she gets on.
once she finds a seat, she looks at you and happily waves goodbye through the window. you wave back at her with a smile as the bus begins taking off. you briefly greet some of the parents with a gentle smile then head to your car and drive to work.
luckily it was friday, meaning gabriella is staying at your parents for the weekend along with her cousins. they wanted to spend time with all their grandkids. that means you and your siblings get to be kid-free. honestly, it’s a win-win situation. which also means another night of jewelry shopping, just not spending. once the moon is shinning so beautifully in the sky and most of nueva york is asleep, you slip into your iconic black latex suit. a small mask to cover the upper half of your face, exposing your nose and glossy lips. white gloves with fake nails, emphasizing the cat part of your name. a silver wig to conceal your true hair as a cherry on top. with one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you escape through your bedroom windowsill and venture into the night.
the night sky looks beautiful as always. the shimming moonlight illuminating the city. the cold breeze hitting your face as you jump from rooftop to rooftop. the distant beeps and sirens ring in your ears. in your beg, a diamond set worth thousands of dollars was your prized possession tonight. this will cover definitely expenses for months. maybe you finally buy that boujee ass dollhouse gabi has been wanting for weeks. maybe treat yourself a trip to the spa after all the reckless working you’ve been doing.
“give it back, gatita.”
ah shit, you know that heavy ass voice.
it was only a matter of time before he showed up.
turning around, you see that familiar red and dark blue figure. spider-man, the famous hero of nueva york. it was only a year ago when he started his whole charade. a strange man clad in a red and dark blue suit with spider abilities. stopped major catastrophes and saved hundreds of lives. the public praised him for his heroic efforts. the police were first skeptical, considered him a vigilante but later on referred to him as a hero to the city. his impact is so significant to the city, there’s a whole damn national holiday dedicated to him as thank you for his service. on halloween, the streets are filled with kids dressed up as him. spider-man is the town’s savor.
the first time you met him was during a jewelry trip and he caught you. but of course with your stealthy and seductive antics, you were able to escape. you never realized how tall he was until he was standing up close to you. the man is a fucking skyscraper, practically almost 7 feet tall and insanely buff as hell. the man is a pure greek god. but what really caught your attention was that handsome voice. every time you hear him, a shiver goes down your spine. a good shiver, to be exact. he sounds so attractive, you’ve always wondered who is underneath that glowing mask. but something about him feels so… familiar. his presence reminds you of someone, someone you haven’t seen in years. that familiarity has always struck you but you can’t pinpoint it.
ever since your first encounter, he’s been catching you but ultimately fails. you can’t help but secretly love when he shows up. a rush of excitement flows through your veins every time his attractive voice reaches your ears and find him standing there. but what you love the most is teasing the poor spider. oh you adore how fluster he gets when you gently brush a hand against his broad chest, abs, arms. although he’s wearing a mask, you know his face is burning. arch your back a little extra when you accidentally drop something. let out soft noises while stretching, showing off your latex suit. anything to tick him off and it works every time. you just love messing with him. it’s been like this for several months now.
“what took you so long, arañito? thought you died or some shit.” you tease, tilting your head a little with a pout on your lips, pretending to be sad.
“your life would be boring then.” he approaches with hands on his hips. “dame la bolsa.”
“well, someone forgot his manners.” you tease. “how rude… your mother would be disappointed.”
spiderman groans frustratingly, rubbing the temples of his forehead through the mask. “no me jodas, gatita. dame la pinche bolsa or else—”
“or else what? gonna tie me up in your pretty webs?”
“if i have to.”
damn, he might consider it. not to mention how his tone went down a pitch, more seductively. that sends another shiver of anticipation down your spine.
your eyes light up in amusement. “oh… bondage, huh? okay, i’m down for that~” you giggle when he runs a hand over his face, obviously flustered.
“por dios, mujer. just give me the—” he attempts to snatch the small black bag from your hand but you swiftly move out of his way with a twirl.
“lo siento, arañito pero mamí has to feed her kittens so… muchos besitos~”
just as you blow him a kiss and about to make a run for it, a large hand catches your wrist that holds the bag. eliciting a yelp from you when you’re suddenly yanked to his chest. one hand holding firmly against him and the other holding the bag away from you.
“you’re not escaping this time, gatita.”
you try to push him away by the chest but of course it doesn’t do shit since the man is heavy like a fucking tank. “suéltame, cabrón.”
“push and punch all you want, gatita, but you’re not going anywhere this time.” his grip on your waist tightens as you squirm in his hold. an annoyed groan escapes his lips when you continue fighting. “stop fighting, it’s not gonna help you.”
“those diamonds are gonna help me if you give them back.” you continue squirming.
“not happening, i’m sure your kittens will be fine while your ass sits in a jail cell.”
suddenly, panic invades your body like a plague. gabriella comes through your mind. “no! my daughter, you asshole! i need them for my daughter!” now you’re really panicking, punching and kicking him. you can’t go to jail, abandon your child. you can’t leave gabriella alone, live without her mother.
spiderman looks down at you with shock, the eyes of his mask widens. “daughter?… you have a daughter?…” his grip on you loosens. “you’re a mother?…” he sounds so speechless, shocked.
you finally get the chance to escape his hold and angrily push him away by the chest, making him stumble a little. “yes, i am a mother and yes i have a daughter! if you don’t give me the damn bag—”
“why does your daughter need diamonds?”
a frustrated groan escapes your lips. your patience is wearing thin. “goddamnit! i need to sell them for money so i can provide for my daughter, alright?!”
for once, spiderman is speechless. he simply states down at you in complete silence. a shame that he wears a mask so you can’t tell his expression.
“you’ve been struggling?… financial issues?”
“in this shitty ass economy, yes. my job isn’t enough so i have to make a little extra money just to keep up with rent and other expenses.”
he goes silent for a moment, glancing down at the small bag in his hand then back at you. “this is why you’re doing this… to help your family.”
you sigh sadly, shoulders sagging. “ugh yes, alright? i do this shit for her. chingado, why the hell am i telling you about my personal issues?” you turn away, feeling the frustration bubbling up inside you.
why the hell are you explaining your financial issues to spiderman? he’s not your goddamn therapist. the son of a bitch is about to take you to jail. you really think he is gonna understand? highly doubtful. you fucked up real good this time.
another silent pause between you two. only the distant car beeps and sirens keep the air busy.
“just forget it and take me away already—” you’re cut off when you feel you’re hand being raised up and the small black bag is in your grasp. your brows furrowed in confusion as you look up him. “what are—”
“take it before i change my mind.”
your frown deepens. “why the change of heart? you were literally about to throw my ass in jail.”
“i won’t let a child lose their mother.” he sighs quietly, shoulders slightly slouched. “look, i understand why you do this. you’re struggling and out of options, you’re just trying to help your daughter.”
now, you’re the one who’s speechless. suppose he is understanding and that surprises your for some reason. yet nevertheless, you’re grateful.
“well um… thank you… for being understanding.” you say awkwardly, avoiding his gaze.
“i know i’m overstepping here but… is it just you?”
you nod, still not looking. “yeah… just me and her. the father isn’t in the picture.”
god, it feels awkward talking about this. especially with the goddamn hero of the city.
“i’m sorry… he must’ve been an ass.”
“oh um no… he actually doesn’t know.”
“oh…”
awkward silence. yeah, totally should just dip.
“well… what you’re doing is still wrong but i understand that a parent should do anything for their child.” from your peripheral, he takes a step closer.
finally, you look back at him. taken aback by how close he is. “so all i had to do was say i have a daughter and you would’ve let me off the hook?”
spiderman scoffs and shakes his head, definitely rolling his eyes under the mask. “no, i— chingado, leave before i change my mind.”
you can’t resist a giggle. “well, muchas gracias spidey. didn’t think you were the sentimental type but i appreciate it.” you offer a wink before walking away towards the ledge. “adiós, arañito.” you blow a final kiss at him then jump off with a backflip.
your perspective of spiderman changed tonight.
perhaps he isn’t all that bad and annoying.
you and gabriella have a shopping day. you visit one of stores that she likes and buy a few new clothes for her. with the recent money you’ve made from that diamond set, you decided to treat yourself and your daughter a shopping spree. you’re in the middle paying for the clothes when gabriella sees a cute dog walking by, causing her to let go of your hand and run outside the store to chase after the dog.
“gabriella!” you quickly pay the clothes, thank the cashier, grab the bag, and rush out the door.
gabriella is too focused on the dog when she accidentally runs into someone, knocking her off balance until the stranger catches her by the arm.
“whoa- you okay, chiquita?”
the little girl looks up to find a very tall man with brown eyes and hair, dressed in a simple white sweater and gray sweats.
“oh, sorry mister! i didn’t mean to hurt you!”
the man softly chuckles as he crouches to match her eye level. “it’s okay, chiquita. don’t worry about it.” his eyes briefly glance behind her searching a potential parent. “where’s your parents? are you—”
“gabriella!”
both of them turn to see you rushing towards them until you suddenly stop when you recognize the man who your daughter bumped into. suddenly, your whole body is frozen. everything around is a blur and in slow motion. heart dropped to your stomach and panic invades your veins like a virus. the bag of clothes almost slips out of your hand.
“miguel…?”
it can’t be… the boy you loved from college stands before you. the boy you haven’t seen in seven fucking years is standing right there in flesh next to your daughter, the very same daughter you had with him and doesn’t know about.
oh my god…
he looks so… different yet the same. more muscular, no more glasses, older. he’s not that boy from your biology class, he is a full blown man. god, he still looks handsome. even more now, dear lord.
after 7 years, you see miguel for the first time.
miguel, on the other hand, is as speechless as you are. utterly dumbfounded and shocked to see the girl he fell in love with from college standing in front of him. even after seven years, you still look beautiful. you were always beautiful. fuck, you look like a goddamn angel. especially in that pretty sundress you’re wearing. suddenly, his heart beats faster.
you’re… here. you’re actually here… standing in front of him like an angel. this very moment is the one miguel has been dreaming for so long. so damn long that it’s unbelievable. he hasn’t seen you since college, seven fucking years ago. he hasn’t seen your angelic face since, his heart aches at that realization. all this time miguel has been wondering what happened to you. the memory of you blocking him on everything after graduation makes his heart ache immensely, an unsettling feeling in his chest. even after years, he still wonders why you did. your sudden disappearance left a deep hole in his heart, an area that hasn’t been repaired since until this moment.
he softly calls out your name like you did with his, shock and surprise laced in his tone.
“it’s really you…”
god, his voice… that rich, handsome voice-
“mamá.”
both of you snap out of trance and look at gabriella, who is confused by the situation. realization kicks you in the ass that your daughter is awkwardly standing between you and her father, who neither know of each other’s existences.
“i said sorry to the man for bumping into him.” the little girl explains, pouting.
honestly, you don’t care she bumped into him although you appreciate her polite apology. but the fact it’s miguel is what your mind focuses on.
“it’s okay, mija. let’s just go home, okay?”
miguel observes the interaction, slightly confused about the little girl you’re talking to. is she your little sister? but you’re the youngest in your family, your parents stopped after having you. maybe she’s a younger cousin? but none of your cousins live in nueva york. that only confuses him more, causing him to frown a little. who is this little girl? but then his ears catch the ‘mija’ and his eyes widen in shock.
wait… this little girl is your daughter?
you have a daughter?
you’re a mother?
that is what happened these past 7 years? you ghosted his ass after college then turn out to be a mother to a daughter who seems about that old. the girl does appear to be 6 or 7 years old.
wait… that’s…
miguel concentrates on you and your supposed daughter, but mainly on the little girl. brown hair and eyes, sun-kisses skin, oddly familiar nose.
hold on… that is very familiar.
he has those traits.
oh shit… oh no, no, no, no, no.
there is no fucking way it’s possible… but now really looking at the girl, she looks so similar. way too fucking similar to him. holy fuck…
you briefly sneak a glance at miguel and recognize the shock illustrated on his face.
oh no…
fuck, you and gabi need to leave before miguel figured it out. that’s your biggest nightmare.
he can’t know, he can’t know.
you need to leave now.
“let’s go, gabi.” you take her hand in yours, just about to turn and bolt the fuck out of here.
“wait!” miguel calls out.
you don’t even answer back and continue walking with gabriella by your aide, feeling your heart pounding immensely with anxiety.
“mamá, that man is talking—”
“i know but we need to leave.” you try to not lash at your daughter despite the anxiety bubbling inside and consuming every inch of your body.
“espera, por favor!” miguel pleads, walking by your side. “just please—”
you shake your head, too afraid to look back at him while trying to escape. “no, please.”
he calls out your name again, a bit louder, and reaches out a hand to grab your arm.
“don’t touch my mama!” gabriella shouts as she slaps off his hand from your arm, making miguel wince and back off immediately.
you turn around in shock by your daughter’s erratic behavior, stopping in your tracks. “gabi—”
“leave my mama alone!” the little girl yells, standing in front of you to defend you from the man.
those mahogany eyes widen in shock, fear. miguel immediately backs away, hands in the air surrendering. panic flowing through his veins. “i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt your mama.” he panics while the girl stares daggers at him. truthfully, he never meant to hurt you in any way. he would never, ever. he can’t blame your daughter’s frustration.
unfortunately, the mini chaotic scene captured many eyes which only made it worse.
you let out a quiet sigh. “vamos, gabi.” taking her hand in yours, you bolted without bothering to spare a final glance at miguel or give him a chance to speak. you just want to go home and forget.
but ever since then, you’ve been a panicky mess.
miguel found out.
you know it.
that look in his eyes, the way they widen. it was a look of realization and disbelief.
you can’t let him find you and gabriella. fuck, you should’ve known staying in nueva york was a stupid idea knowing miguel still lives there too. honestly, you didn’t think he still did since it’s been a long time. however, it was only a matter of time before you run into him and the truth spills out. panic has been plaguing your body for days, taking a toll on you. extra jumpy, shaky hands, rapid beating heart, constantly checking your surroundings making sure miguel isn’t there. you aren’t afraid of him, no, you believe he’s still the same sweet guy before. strange part of you knows he would never hurt you. you always knew that. you’re just afraid of his reaction.
gabriella has noticed your panicky state. she may only be seven years old, but she is smart. occasionally asks if you’re okay, what’s wrong, why are you acting scared. those questions stung deeply in your heart. panic has consumed you entirely that your own seven year-old daughter notices and is worried about you. oh your sweet baby girl. she loves her mama very much and it melts your heart. but what hurts more is lying to her about it. you explain it was stress about work. truthfully, you are stressed out but for completely different reasons. it’s unsure how long these lies will be satisfying enough for.
now, you’re heading to work. the clicking of your heels hit the concrete as you pass multiple people, adjusting the skirt of your waitress uniform. despite the anxiety coursing through your veins at the thought of miguel finding you, life doesn’t stop. perhaps being at work would takes your mind off it.
until your name is called by a familiar voice.
your body froze the moment you recognize that voice, swiftly turning around to find the very man you have been avoiding and scared to run into. miguel is quickly approaching you and you don’t hesitate to walk away as quickly as possible, panicking a little.
“wait!” he calls out, trying to not knock out passing individuals while catching up to you.
you continue speed-walking, even in those heels as much as they allow you to. adrenaline pumping through your veins, heart beating frantically.
you have to get away. you can’t let him catch up to you, can’t let him get you. you can’t face him.
“espera, por favor!” due to his long legs, miguel is able to catch up to you quickly and gently grabs one of your wrists. “please, don’t walk—”
you turn around with a gasp and yank your wrist from his grasp. “¡suéltame!”
miguel says your name pleadingly and raises his hands cautiously, afraid to touch you again. “just please… i need to talk to you.”
you shake your head, turning around to leave. “no, just please leave me alone.” a gasp escapes your lips as you stumble on one heel then a strong arm wraps around your torso and catches you.
“cuidado, amor.” miguel is right at your side, his arm wrapped securely around your torso and carefully helps you stand properly. standing in front of you with now both hands on your waist. “you okay?”
his touch makes your mind dizzy and ignite your skin. oh you haven’t felt his touch in so fucking long, seven long years and damn you miss it so much. those calloused hands holding you gently, caressing your skin with such gentleness. those strong arms wrapped around you securely, always made you feel safe. even years later, there is no other pair of arms you would rather be in than miguel’s. and god, did he miss having you in his arms. holding you so delicately, right where you belong. like you are meant to be him his arms, even after all these years.
your eyes hesitantly meet his and suddenly you’re lost in trance. both your bodies pressed against each other, miguel’s muscular figure against your smaller one. those hands calloused hands holding your waist as if you’re the most precious thing in his grasp. heavy breaths hitting each other faces well, his hitting your forehead and your against his chest due to the height difference. utterly hypnotized by each other’s eyes, filled with a lovesick glint. memories of college invades both your minds. flashbacks of a younger version of you and miguel secretly in love with each other, standing the same position with smiles plastered on your faces. a nasty wave of nostalgia coursing through you both.
you’re so lost in trance that you don’t realize one of miguel’s hands caressing your cheek. the same way he uses to do when you were, unofficially, together. the ache in your heart at the memory makes you snap out of it and back away from his hold.
“i-i have to go…” you avert your gaze from his, afraid you’ll get lost in them again.
miguel stops you with holding out a cautious hand, a pleading look on his face. “por favor… just please, amor… just for a minute. that’s is all i ask.”
god, he is killing you. that pleading tone never fails to make your knees weak, even years later.
reluctantly, you close your eyes with a slow head shake. “no, miguel… i can’t. i’m sorry, i have to go.” you try walking past him but miguel blocks your path, beginning to feel frustrated.
“not until you talk to me first.” he looks down at you with a serious look and slightly furrowed brows.
now you’re getting a little agitated. “there’s nothing to talk about, miguel. alright?”
miguel watches you try slipping past around him with a frown, following you. “what the hell do you mean there’s nothing to talk about?! i haven’t seen you in seven years and you think there’s nothing to talk about?! estas loca, huh?!”
“just leave me alone, miguel! forget it!”
unfortunately, the heated aggressiveness was drawing eyes from several bystanders.
“forget it?! you think i can just forget never seeing you for seven years and believing you were gone all this time only to find out you’re still here?!
“UGH! just stop it!” you continue walking away, frustration boiling in your veins.
“just tell me!”
you whirl around with bloodshot eyes. “STOP IT!”
a sudden explosion erupts from a bank a few blocks away. a sudden puff of smoke explodes into the air, breaking the glass windows sending shattered pieces flying, then followed by bursting flames. the ground shook underneath, causing you to fall with a scream. arms covering your head from the shattered glass. smoke fills your lungs and eyes immediately, coughing it out as you slowly look up to see what’s going but a sharp pain in your right ankle makes you whimper. looking down at your injured ankle, there is a small shard of glass inside. small trails of blood slowly flow down, decorating your ankle in red. while whimpering in pain, you suddenly feel a pair of strong arms wrapped around you.
“are you okay?!” miguel panics, eyes widen with pure fear as they trace over your figure searching for any injuries. hands gripping onto you tightly as if he’s terrified to let you go. he spots your injured ankle and the small streaks of blood trailing down. “fuck!”
fuck, you’re hurt. shit, shit, shit. he needs to get you to the hospital quick. he only just found you after so long, no fucking way he’s losing you now.
miguel doesn’t hesitate to carefully pick you up in his arms and carry you in bridal style. the painful whimpers you let out make his heart ache immensely, like multiple stabs. he almost fucking cries. fuck, he can feel the tears stinging in his eyes.
“i know, i know, lo siento…” he presses soft kisses against your forehead as miguel quickly rushes to the nearest hospital with all of his fucking might, thanks to his spider abilities. “lo siento, lo siento, mi alma…”
soon, he manages to find the nearest hospital. the doctors and nurses were a bit anxious to a very panicky, frustrated man built like a god carrying an injured you in his arms and barking at them to help you. if you were not in pain, you would’ve told miguel to calm down. he’s always been a dramatic man, overprotective of you. even years later without seeing each other, he still strongly cares for you. it warms your fragile heart. luckily, one nurse offered and quickly lead you both to the nearest room. a close call for security was made after miguel heavily refused to leave the room after the doctor and nurses told him so they could help you without distractions. he couldn’t leave you. he even threatened to punch the poor doctor, who is only trying to do his job, before he was given a final warning by one nurse. very reluctantly, miguel finally leaves the room by slamming the door on his way out. but not before giving you one last glance making sure you were fine.
while you were getting patched up, miguel paces back and forth outside in the hall. one hand resting on his hip and the other running down his face in frustration. heart pounding in his chest, anxiety flowing through his veins. never has he been so scared in his life. seeing you all scared, in pain, tears in those gorgeous eyes he loves, it fucking killed him. all miguel can think about is you and how badly he wants to rush inside to know if you’re okay. no, he needs to know how you’re doing but the doctor hasn’t come out to say anything yet. the longer he waits, the more worried he gets. normally, miguel is a patient man. but when it comes to you, that shit flies out the window. okay, terrible pun but point still stands. all miguel cares about is you. never has he stopped, even after seven years, he still does.
he will always care for you.
after several more minutes, the doctor comes out and informs miguel that you’ll be okay. a huge wave of relief courses through his entire body. he profoundly thanks the doctor and nurses for their assistance then quickly heads inside, desperate to see you. the relief truly hits when he sees you laying on the hospital bed, back rested against the pillows as support and ankle wrapped with a bandage.
“hi.” you whisper with a soft smile, the same one that always melts his heart.
the first time he sees that smile in seven years.
a smile miguel never forget.
“hey,” he mirrors your smile as he takes a seat in the chair next to the bed. “how are you feeling?” a bit of concern laced in his tone.
“i’m fine, it didn’t tear anything major and only needed a few stitches. should heal in a few days.”
he slowly nods, understanding. “that’s great.” those mahogany eyes land on your hand resting at your side. the urge to reach out and hold your hand consumes him but miguel isn’t sure if you’d like that. so, reluctantly, he decides against it.
a small silence fell between you two before you spoke again. “the doctor and nurses were a little nervous. i mean, being pressured by a man built like a damn god wasn’t exactly helpful. especially almost calling security.” you softly chuckle.
he scoffs with an eye roll. “you were bleeding, i wasn’t gonna leave you alone in here.”
“i wasn’t bleeding to death, miguel. it was only a little, nothing serious.”
“ni modo,” he shakes his head, not pleased with you brushing it off easily. “i’m not gonna lose you again.”
a huge silence falls in between you two. the tension that has been lingering since the day you reunited weighs heavily, like an anchor suddenly dropping. the silence was painful and the tension was dreadful. a conversation both you and miguel have been afraid of to discuss. the moment you’ve been dreading since you reunited with him. anxiety invades both your bodies. sitting there fiddling with your hands in your lap, miguel looking down at his own with an anxious expression illustrated on his face. it was only a matter of time until you had to tell him the truth, to tell him he’s s a father. you’ve never been so afraid, more than giving birth to gabriella all those years ago, more than finding out you were pregnant. confronting the truth is the scariest thing ever.
miguel looks up at you and notices your anxious expression. the way you fiddle with your hands, a habit you’ve had since you were a kid. he knew because you told him once during a tutoring session after he noticed it. he knew you, even seven years later. he always noticed everything about you. especially the anxious look on your angelic face. miguel has never seen you so nervous and it worries him. the strong urge to comfort you consumes him.
very slowly, he reaches out a hand for yours as he leans a bit closer towards you. “mi alma, i—”
“¡mamá!”
the sudden burst of the door opening makes miguel quickly pull back as he watches your daughter rush into the room and immediately hugs you.
“mama! are you okay?!” gabi cries, hugging you tightly. “i was so scared!”
you embrace her tightly, softly shushing her. “i’m okay, mi amor. i’m okay, i’m sorry for scaring you.” a hint of guilt squeezes your heart.
you feel her shake her head. “it’s okay, i know you didn’t mean it, mama. i was just scared you got hurt.”
oh your sweet baby. heart heavily swelled with love. “i was scared too but i’m okay.” you slowly pulling back away but keep gabi close, gently holding her arms. “it was just a little scratch from glass, nothing bad.” you gingerly wipe her tiny tears.
gabi nods before noticing the man sitting beside you, realizing it’s the same mean man who was bothering you the other day. the smile on her face dies and is replaced with a frown. “why is the mean man here?”
miguel’s eyes widen in concern at the little girl staring daggers at him. he was too in awe at the cute moment between you and your daughter to realize that she’s still mad at him for the way he mistreated you a few days ago. how protective she was of you and yelled at him in front of people. he can’t blame her though. she just wants to protect her mother and that is admirable for a seven year old.
“he saved me, mija.” you reassure her, causing both gabriella and miguel to turn to you with wide eyes which makes you giggle but squeezes your heart. the same expression, like twins. “he saved me from the accident and got me to the hospital super fast.”
gabriella’s expression is a mixture of surprise and confusion, like she couldn’t actually believe the same mean man saved you. “really…?”
you softly laugh at her expression, nodding. “yes mija, he saved me and i’m very thankful for him for helping me.” you spare a brief glance at miguel, who continues staring at you with wide eyes before his expression softens and offers a small smile.
the same damn smile that made your heart flutter.
gabi slowly turn her gaze from you to miguel. not giving him a death stare anymore but a little smile instead. “thank you, mister… for saving my mama.”
his broad shoulders deflated in relief. she isn’t mad at him anymore. “of course, chiquita. i know how much your mama means to you.” miguel softly smiles.
for the first time, gabi genuinely smiles at him and, oddly enough, that warms his heart immensely. yours too because that’s when you realized.
this is the first time they smile at each other.
a sight you never thought you would live to see. another painful squeeze to your heart.
before any of you could say anything else, your parents come rushing in with a million times worse worried expressions on their faces.
“mija! ay dios mio, we were so worried! when we got the call and the doctor told us everything, we—”
your mother stops as she and your father stop dead in their tracks the moment they see miguel sitting beside you. the very same miguel who was the sweet boy from your bio class that tutored you, visited during weekends, treated him like family. the same miguel who got you pregnant and left you alone to deal with raising a baby, even though was your fault for never telling him. he never knew and they never blamed him but he got you pregnant nevertheless.
your parents arrival and your dad’s extremely pissed off expression causes miguel to swiftly stand on his feet, making the chair screech against the floor. he addresses them with respect, hands behind his back. “it’s great to see you again—”
“¿por qué este güey esta aquí?” your father asks curtly, glaring at miguel.
“papá—” you warn him.
“mi amor, ya.” your mother calms her husband down, gently patting his shoulder. “gabi esta aquí.” she whispers in a warning tone.
your father, reluctantly, backs offs because he knows your mom is right. the last thing any of you want is to create drama in front of gabriella.
your parents look back at you.
“pobrecita, mi niña.” your mother coos, gently cupping your face and gives your forehead a kiss. “the doctor told us everything and you were going to be fine pero you’re sure you’re okay?”
“sí, mamá, i’m fine. i’ll heal soon.”
“gracias a dios.” your parents said in unison.
“we should thank him, too!” gabriella chirps in, pointing at miguel with a bright smile. “he saved mama and got her to the hospital!”
your parents turn and look at miguel in surprise. he just as surprised as they are but because your daughter gave him credit for helping you. your parents share a glance then look at miguel.
“you did?” your dad questions.
“sí, señor.” miguel said politely, nodding. “i brought her here as fast as possible.”
his answer seemed to satisfy them both. mainly because they know much of a good man he is and how much he deeply cares for you, even still to this day, that miguel will do anything for you.
“gracias, mijo,” your mom offers an appreciative smile. “for helping our daughter, we’re grateful.”
“siempre, señora.” miguel smiles in return. “anything for her.” he means it with all his heart.
they know it, so do you.
the ongoing screams from outside reminds him that the perpetrator is still on the loose. the city needs their spider vigilante. now that you’re safe, miguel can go fulfill his heroic duties.
“i’ll uh… leave you be.” miguel clears his throat as he makes his way towards the door.
“miguel.”
your soft voice makes him stop by the door, looking back at you. eager to what you have to say.
“thank you.” you say softly.
it makes his heart flutter. miguel offers a small nod, eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before finally walking out of the room, leaving you be with your family. he exits the hospital and finds a hidden alleyway. with a few taps on his gizmo, his spider suit replaces his normal clothes and miguel swings away to save nueva york from another threat.
after a while, your ankle healed completely and you’re already back on black cat duties. effortless cartwheels and flips over rooftops in the night. it feels amazing to be back in latex and shifting through the beautiful night after being cooped up in your apartment barely doing anything. one of your neighbors, a nice elderly lady, offered to take gabriella to her bus stop since you couldn’t walk with a damaged ankle and you thanked her tremendously. your boss was kind enough to give you recovery time and it wouldn’t affect your pay. you hadn’t seen miguel much since the hospital. he didn’t have any way of contacting you anyways, no address given or no phone number. but you knew in your heart he was looking for you, thinking of you, and wanted to know if you were okay. you hoped to run into him soon.
another gig at a different jewelry store. this one has more diamonds accessories which means more money. while jumping from rooftop to rooftop, faint grunts and shouts reached your ears which makes you stop in your tracks. following the sound, you find a secluded alleyway where a huge fight takes place. appears to a gang of criminals, six guys against one individual clad in familiar hues of red and dark blue.
spiderman.
he seems to be whooping their asses. let’s be real, nobody has a fucking chance with a guy who is freakishly tall and insanely buff like a fucking god. even if it’s a whole damn army, their asses will be on the ground before any could get the chance to take a swing at him. there is even rumors that spiderman has bitten some of his enemies. now that sounds fucking insane. what the fuck is he? a damn vampire? you had to very hard time believing that when you first heard of it by a fellow colleague at the diner. at first, you were hesitant to run into him again during your nightly runs in fear of getting bit by the weirdo. but your curiosity got the better of you. one night when you ran into him, you asked him about the biting rumors and spiderman frustratingly denied it, which furthered your curiosity and teased him about it. now you wonder if you’d get to witness that.
but instead panic invades your veins as you notice one gang member whips out a pistol aimed at miguel’s back, who is currently too occupied beating up three other members. he’s gonna get shot. suddenly, you body goes into autopilot. without hesitation, you swiftly jump down and land right behind the bastard then knocked him out by kicking the back of his head, causing him to lose aim and fire the bullet off to the side instead. the gunshot startles spiderman and he swiftly turns around in concern only to find you standing there with the asshole on the floor. the eyes of his mask widen in disbelief.
“what the hell are you doing here?!”
“saving your ass from getting shot at.” you kick the gun away. “you’re welcome.”
“you need to get out of here now!” spiderman warns, shooting out webs to take down two approaching guys without looking away from you.
you were about to argue back when another guy comes running towards you both and you kicked him in the face knocking him out. there wasn’t any time to argue with a group of dudes attacking you so you teamed up together. miguel knocking them out with his webs, throwing punches here and there. you whooping their asses, kicking and punching while doing flawless flips and tricks. it’s actually quite fun fighting alongside the infamous spiderman. for once not fighting him but with him. watching the masked hero in action, it’s attractive as fuck. maybe you should interfere with his fights more often.
one idiot was pissing miguel off more than usual. the fight was getting aggravating and he was losing patience. aggressively grabbing the guy’s face with one hand and yanking him towards his face, miguel’s mask disintegrates and opens his mouth revealing those pearly sharp fangs. watching the guy’s eyes widen in pure terror before biting into his neck, causing the bastard to yelp in pain. the sound makes you turn around after knocking out the rest of the gang and your eyes widen in shock at the sight in front of you. spiderman is… biting the guy? what the actual fuck? the hero’s face is concealed since it’s buried in the guy’s neck, whose body squirm’s underneath him. you can’t believe what you’re seeing… what the actual fuck is spiderman doing?
once the venom is injected into the idiot’s veins and he feels his body weakened underneath, miguel lets him go causing the body to collapse on the ground without a care. glaring down at the paralyzed bastard, chest heaving and veins flowing with adrenaline. he wipes the blood off his lips with the back of his gloved hand then turns to you, not realizing you were watching the entire time.
your heart fucking drops.
drops into your fucking stomach. entire body completely frozen. blood gone too damn cold.
no fucking way… it can’t be true.
spiderman, the same man who saves and protects the lives of nueva york. the same man who everyone adores and praises for his heroic deeds. the same man who always caught your ass during a jewelry run. the same man who you’ve been teasing and sorta been developing some strange feelings for. the same man who is the boy you loved since college.
the same man who is your damn baby daddy.
miguel is fucking spiderman?!
the masked vigilante who has been chasing after you these past several months is the man you’ve never stopped loving and the father of your child?!
this whole fucking time it was him?!
“miguel?…” you whisper, standing there in pure disbelief. like you refused to believe it’s him.
his whole body freezes and fears settles in his bones when you said his name, his real name. those mahogany eyes widen in shock. “¿qué dijiste?”
“oh my god… it’s you…” you tremble, chest beginning to heave before the fire bursted into flames. “it was YOU! IT WAS YOU THIS WHOLE FUCKING TIME!”
miguel winces confusingly at your sudden burst of anger and accusations. “what the hell do you mean it was me? who the hell you even—”
you swiftly yank off your small mask, revealing your true identity and miguel fucking crumbles.
it’s… you?! you are the infamous black cat?! the same woman who’s been stealing jewelry. the same woman who’s been a pain his ass for months. the same woman who’s been driving him fucking crazy. black cat is the same woman he’s been in love with since collage and disappeared from his life for seven fucking years. the same woman who he’s been desperately searching for and found her after all these years yet only to find out she’s the fucking jewelry thief dressed in black latex this whole time.
the woman he never stopped loving is black cat.
miguel softly calls out your name, as if confirming himself that it’s actually you. “it’s you… you’re the fucking black cat?!” now it’s his burst of anger being unleashed. “it’s been you after these months?!”
“don’t fucking yell at me!” you point at him. “you don’t fucking get to give me shit when you’ve been fucking SPIDERMAN THIS WHOLE TIME!” you shouting echos throughout the alleyway.
“you think i was just gonna give away my fucking identity?! no!” he argues and takes a few steps closer. a huge frown settled on his face, pissed off as much as you are. “so you don’t give me shit for not telling you when i didn’t know it was you!”
“¡BABOSO!” your boiling anger causes you to kick miguel in the chest before he can closer to you, making him stumble a bit with a groan.
with a frustrated groan, you turn away from him. running both hands down your heated face. miguel closes his eyes for a moment to calm down, pinching the bridge of nose and taking a heavy breath.
“it all makes sense now…” you whisper, slowly shaking your head. miguel looks back at you with furrowed brows but remains silent to let you speak. “no fucking wonder you felt so familiar. i thought i going crazy, that no fucking way it was you. it couldn’t be you…” you turn around to face him again but with a tender look that warms his heart.
“i felt it too…” miguel breaths out heavily, head hanging low and hands on his hips.
“what?” you’re surprised.
“the familiarity.” he confessed, looking back at you. “I felt it too. i thought…” he heavily sighs, running a hand through his hair. “i thought the same, thinking it was impossible for it to be you but… it’s true.”
silence falls in between you two. tension, feelings, unanswered questions lingering in the heavy air. a moment to sallow and digest the hard truth.
glancing back at miguel, you take a really good look at him. specifically at his face. those two piercing crimson orbs. with your past encounters with him, you heavenly really paid attention to his eyes and the fact they are red, not the brown ones you adored so much. those chestnut eyes that you’d stare at for hours, mesmerized by how beautiful they were. but now they were replaced a fierce shade of red. vehement, ominous, intimidating. but it doesn’t strip them of their beauty. it’s a vibrant kind of red, like a red gem. dazzling in the back of dark cave. like the pretty gems the seven dwarfs mine for in snow white, one of gabriella’s favorite films. his eyes, no matter the color, are nevertheless breathtaking. below are those sharp fangs that you just witnessed moments ago. pearly white, shape canines that possess some type of poison or something to knock someone out.
“what happened?”
as if he read your mind, miguel knew what you were referring to, making him sigh heavily. “alchemax. after my internship, i got a position there. deal with genetic machinery.” he turns away, concealing the shame. “there was an accident… some bastard screwed me over and… caused this.” he gestures at his eyes, fangs, and talons. “half-spider DNA.”
your eyes slightly widen at the reveal. half spider DNA? insane. “the spiderman name is no joke.”
miguel shakes his head, biting back a smile at your joke. still manage to crack jokes in serious matters, you never changed. a part he loved about you.
still loves.
looking back at you, miguel takes in your appearance and remembers why you do this. “how long have you been doing this?” he gestures at your latex suit.
“a few years. waitressing doesn’t really pay the bills much so i went against my morals. i know what i’m doing is wrong but it’s worth it for my daughter.”
miguel’s expression softens when you mention your daughter, remembering the little girl. the one who yelled at him in public for bothering you. the one who ran into the hospital room worried about her mother. the one who smiled at him for saving her mother. a sweet little girl you have. but then he remembers how similar she looked to him, like him. the features and traits he carried, she did too. when he pinned the points together, miguel wanted to crumble. not only he’s been dying to talk to you to know how and where the hell you’ve been the last seven years but also to ask about your daughter. a question that’s been infiltrating his mind since the day he saw you.
“your daughter…” miguel hesitates for a moment, preparing himself for possibly the hardest truth he has ever faced. “is she…?”
you close your eyes. the moment you’ve been dreading for, it has finally come.
“yes.”
his heart shatters. he brings up a hand to conceal the painful expression on his face. if he didn’t had enhanced strength, miguel would’ve collapsed.
he is a father. to a bright little girl.
tears swell up in his eyes. it’s earthshaking, unbelievable. these past seven years, he had a daughter. a daughter he shares with you, the love of his life, the girl he fell in love with from college. thinking back on college, miguel remembers you disappearing from his life after graduation. blocked him on everything, unable to reach you.
now it made sense.
but there’s one question bothering him.
“why didn’t you tell me?” he whispers, bringing down his hand from his face but refuses to look you. as if he’s scared to, scared to face the truth.
tears prickle in your eyes. the emotions that have been buried inside for so many years finally start boiling up. the dam breaks, the volcano erupts.
“because i didn’t want to hurt you.”
miguel looks back with shocked eyes, in pure disbelief. “what?”
hurt him? how could you possibly hurt him? he is the one who did the hurting, leaving you alone to carry and raise a baby. but a baby he never knew of.
the tears couldn’t hold back, now trailing down your face. “the week before graduation, i found out i was pregnant. i-i was so s-scared. angry at myself for being so fucking careless but we both were.”
yes, you both were stupid careless barely young adults. miguel should’ve known better, that his pull out game was terrible and should’ve stacked up on condoms more often. god, he wants to smack himself. such an irresponsible fucking idiot.
“i was so scared, miguel, i-i didn’t know how to tell you.” you sob, unable to control the tears any longer and honestly you don’t care. “then, i remembered you told me about your internship at alchemax a few weeks before and how excited you were. you looked so happy, miguel…” you offered a teary smile that shattered his heart into a million pieces. “i knew how much that meant for you and i was so happy for you. you had your life planned and i couldn’t ruin that. i couldn’t, miguel… i couldn’t hurt you. i couldn’t ruin your life with an unexpected pregnancy. it felt wrong, i loved you too much to hurt you.”
the truth finally revealed after seven years.
miguel’s heart crumbles into more pieces. he can’t believe it. physically, mentally, emotionally, all of the above. this heartbreaking revelation completely destroys him. you kept the most life-changing, earth-shattering secret because you didn’t want to hurt him? ruin his life? his heart aches terribly with immense guilt. he feels like the biggest fucking asshole. you went through so much painful emotions and inner turmoil while he was what? celebrating about his internship and graduation. what a fucking asshole. it breaks his already broken heart.
“that’s why i left you. blocked you on everything right after graduation. i left the stadium crying because i couldn’t face you. i couldn’t tell you so i left… it’s my fault.” you confess through teary eyes. “it’s my fault you never knew, not yours. please don’t blame yourself, you never knew. you shouldn’t feel bad for not knowing, not being there because it’s my fault. and no matter how many fucking times i wanted to call you, reach out to you to tell, i was too scared. scared that you’d be mad, that you didn’t want to be a part of it.” you wipe some tears off your face, not caring if it ruined your makeup and look like a melted candle. “i’m so sorry, miguel… for hurting you, keeping this from you, keeping her from you.”
now miguel is crying too, silently.
“i’m so, so sorry!” you completely break down, burying your teary face into your palms. the guilt caught up to you, consuming you entirely.
miguel swiftly charms in and takes you in his arms before you could collapse, holding you tight against his chest. one arm wrapped tightly around you and his other hand cupping the back of your head. each sob breaks a piece of his heart, causing him to tighten his hold on you as you continue sobbing into his chest. miguel has always hated seeing you cry, but this one hurts more, too painful. even though you said it’s your fault, miguel still believes it’s his too. it takes two to make a baby, he is the reason why you never told him. he is responsible too.
“i forgive you.”
you pull back a little to look up at him confusingly. “w-what? but i lied to you, hurt you for keeping—”
“i forgive you,” he states softly, bringing his hands up to gently cup your face. “because i love you.”
your eyes widen in shock. “w-what?”
“i love you. i’ve loved you since the moment i met you in biology.” the pad of his thumbs gently wipe your tears. “the day i became your tutor was the best day of my life because i met the most beautiful girl ever.” a heavy sigh escapes his lips. “i was stupid to not tell you, it was the biggest mistake in my life and i hated myself for it. because of that and our stupid mistakes, i lost you...” the thought makes his heart ache. “when you started avoiding me, i was worried and thought i did something wrong and tried reaching out to you but you never did. then, i never saw you again after graduation. i looked for you everywhere, called you, text you but then when i realized you blocked me completely… i broke.” he swallows those emotions building in his throat. “i… i cried… because i lost the love of my life.”
his confession makes your heart swell with intense love and a thousands other emotions. unbelievable and overwhelming but in a positive way.
“i tried looking for you everywhere, tried reaching out to your friends and family but they never answered. all i could think about was wondering what happened to you, why you disappeared, why you never told me anything.” those crimson orbs bore into your soul. “i never stopped looking for you.”
your breath hitches, staring up at him with wide eyes. all this time, he’s been looking for you?
“i never stopped thinking about you, wondering where you were, if you were okay. i never stopped.” miguel confesses. “then when i saw you that day with… your daughter… i couldn’t fucking believe it. after seven fucking years of wondering and searching, i found you. i actually found you…” he lets out a heartily chuckle. “beautiful since the day i met you, even more now.” his compliment makes your cheeks warm, something he always manages to do. “but then seeing you with her…” you know he’s referring to gabriella, your guys’ daughter. “seeing you as a mom wasn’t what i expected. i couldn’t believe it but then when i noticed how familiar she looked, i thought i was going insane.”
the shocking realization on miguel’s face from that day flashes through your mind. you knew he put the pieces together and figured it out at that moment.
“i’m sorry for avoiding you,” you softly inject, looking up at him with glossy eyes. “i-i was scared, of your reaction, what you’d say, if you were mad. i freaked out and couldn’t bare to face you.”
miguel shakes his head. “i wasn’t mad, never. i just was… shocked.” his eyes shift down for a moment while his hands caresses your face. “shocked that i had a daughter…” then, his gaze returns to yours. “she has my nose, the first thing i noticed.”
that elicits a soft chuckle from you. “yeah, i noticed too when she was born. she’s your mini you.”
a soft moment bonding over your daughter.
“i never stopped loving you, miguel.” you quietly confess, placing your hands on top of his. “even years later, i never stopped either. every time i look at gabi, i see you.” your lashes flutter and heart soars. “she’s so smart and passionate like you. sometimes i wonder if she even got anything from me since she’s so much like you in so many ways.” a soft chuckle slips past your lips. “she is you in every way.”
his heart soars too, with such love. this furthers his desire to get to know his daughter and build a possible relationship. most importantly to win you back, to be in your life again if you want to. to be part of yours and gabriella’s life. to be a family. something miguel never thought he could have.
“now… i know this is a lot for you. i mean, come on, you just found out you have a kid after years without knowing. so i want you to know that i don’t expect anything from you at all.” you assured him. “i don’t wanna pressure you into this. it’s your decide if you want to be part of her life. i know i took away those first seven years from you and i’m sorry. but… you have the choice if you want be there or not.”
“mi alma, of course i want to be there for her.” miguel doesn’t hesitate to answer. this news doesn’t stop his world from spinning. an opportunity to not miss. “but i want to be there for you… if you let me.”
his words caught you off guard.
“you… want me?”
“sí, mi vida.” miguel leans a bit closer, a loving smile tugging on his plump lips. “i’ve always wanted you, to be with you. officially, this time.”
your heart swells with intense love, a bit overwhelming but in a good way. he truly wants to be with you, part of your life, as well gabriella’s? it’ll be a new change but you gladly accept it, especially if it means for your daughter to have both loving parents.
“i’ve always wanted to be with you too.” you confess softly with a light smile and fluttering lashes.
miguel’s heart is swoon, swollen with adoration. words he has been dreaming of for years. he’s not gonna lose this opportunity. he’s not gonna lose you again. there will be many changes to come but miguel is willing to do that for you, and his daughter.
when you told gabriella the truth, it took her some time to process it. even for a seven year old, learning a difficult truth can be hard to understand. all her life she has only known her mother and never learned much of her father. in the beginning, you simply explained that her dad went away. although it was not entirely a lie, you had to explain to your daughter why she didn’t have a dad like other kids. but now with the truth, it was a little challenging. gabriella wasn’t convinced at first. mainly due to the fact that her father is the same guy who was bothering you at the store and also saved you from the accident. she was honestly shocked. interrogated both you and miguel, mainly him. never had he felt nervous because of a kid. you both were an anxious mess when you all gathered in your living room, you seated next to gabi and miguel across. despite wanting to be together again, to give it another shot, you had to make sure gabriella was comfort with it all. comfortable with knowing her father, welcoming him into her life, and being a part of it. prior to the conversation, you thought to yourself: would gabi be okay with this? okay with miguel being in her life? okay with him and you together? despite how happy you and miguel were about the possibility of a future together, you still wanted to make sure she was truly comfortable with it. you didn’t want to push the idea on her or make her feel uncomfortable. like every parent, the child must come first.
but over time, gabriella accepted it and welcomed miguel into both your lives. in fact, she was elastic to finally have a dad in her life. the moment she jumped into his arms, miguel’s heart swelled with immense love and happiness. forever grateful for her acceptance and to finally be her dad. tears swelled up in your eyes when you witnessed that heartwarming moment and joined in the hug after gabi begged you to. it was the beginning of a new chapter for your family, welcoming a new member. one of the happiest days of your life. a day you dreamed of but never thought it would happen. as time passes, new adjustments were made. miguel being part of your life now is so… different but amazing. he really stepped up into the role of a father. offering to take and pick up gabi from school. show up to her soccer games, proudly wearing a jersey with her number on it and being the loudest parent in the crowd cheering her on. participating in family outings like going to playgrounds, movies, the beach, cool restaurants, and amusement parks. attend any school events, volunteer as a chaperone for field trips. the man is really putting the effort and you can’t be any more grateful for it.
currently, you’re doing your nightly routine. freshly washed, skin lathered in lotion, dressed in a mini lilac satin nightgown, your playlist softly playing from your phone, candles glowing softly in the dark. a perfect evening for selfcare. gabriella is staying at your parents for the weekend, meaning you have the apartment to yourself for the next two days. a chance to relax and enjoy being child-free. while fixing up your hair (in whatever way you usually do depending on your style/texture before going to bed), you hear a light thud coming from your room which makes your head snap in that direction. sudden anxiety does through your veins. what the fuck was that? black cat mode turns on. grabbing the blow dryer since it was heaviest object accessible, you quietly exit the bathroom and steadily move towards your room. hiding behind the wall, right next to the doorframe, you turn a little to catch a sneak peek of the intruder. your eyes widen in shock. that sneaky son of a bitch dressed in red and dark blue climbs through your window, which you idiotically forgot to lock. a huge wave of relief courses through you as you lower the blow dryer in your hands and come out from hiding approaching him.
“what the fuck, miguel?”
you notice those crimson orbs briefly scan your figure, trailing over the silky nightgown. lingering a little too long on, what you suspect, your cleveage. the top of the nightgown is quite low, giving him a nice glimpse. typical but it doesn’t offend you, rather makes you smirk a little. a simple nightgown can make him his mind go haywire and you love it.
his eyes finally meet yours then the blow dryer in your hand. “you chose that to defend yourself?” he deadpans, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“shut up,” you scowl, rolling your eyes. “it was the heaviest thing i could grab.” you place the hair dryer on your vanity. “why the hell did you climb through my window? i thought you were an intruder.”
“why didn’t you lock your window?”
“no me jodas, miguel.” you cross your arms, matching his stance. “contéstame.”
your feistiness is one thing he loves about you.
“i wanted to see if you were okay.”
your heart flutters. “well, i’m fine despite the fact you almost gave me a damn heart attack.”
“dramática,” that earns him a glare, causing him to chuckle a little. “i’m sorry, i was out on patrol so i couldn’t be seen by your neighbors.”
you roll your eyes but you understand. “just give me a heads up or something next time.”
he nods. “and gabi?”
“with my parents, remember? for the weekend.”
“ah, sí…”
small silence falls in between you. only the gentle tunes of your music playing from your phone lingers in the background and distant beeps of cars flying outside. although, it wasn’t awkward silence but there is some tension. you and miguel have been alone together numerous of times before, but strangely enough this time feels different. you notice it when miguel starts averting his eyes from yours, looking down or around your room. the clenching of his jaw, tensed shoulders, sight frown on his face. he’s thinking, conflicted with something.
“what’s wrong?” you ask, slowly stepping closer.
“nada… i just…” he paused before sighing. “lo siento, mi alma for disbursing your night. ya me voy.” he turns to leave but you quickly yet gently grab his wrist, stopping him and looking back at you.
“don’t leave… please.” your soft plead almost makes miguel crumble to his knees. “what’s wrong? i know you’re thinking, you can tell me.”
those thick brows furrowed, crimson eyes glancing at the ground instead of your own. a glint of hesitation in them. he sighs before finally speaking.
“do you want this?”
now your brows furrowed. “do i want what?”
“this,” his eyes finally meet yours. “me being part of your life, gabi’s life. are you really okay with this?”
your expression softens a bit but the confusion remains. “of course i’m okay with this. i’m happy you’re part of this family, miguel. are you not…?”
you can’t help the doubt clouding your mind, afraid that he is having second thoughts about this because the truth is miguel being a part of it all has been amazing. in fact, your life has been better since miguel became more involved. not only for you but for gabriella as well. it feels like a true happy family and you didn’t want that to end.
his eyes widen worryingly, internally panicking. “no, no, no, mi alma. of course i’m happy, the happiest i’ve ever been in my life.” his large hands gently rest on your upper arms, holding you close. “it’s just… i know we’ve been doing this for gabi pero…” a small pause to release a sigh. “i wasn’t sure if you wanted to be with me again, if you were okay with me.”
your expression softens even more, replaced with a sympathetic one. insecurity gets the best of us, you understand where he’s coming from. “i meant what i said back in the alleyway that night. i’ve always wanted you, miguel. i’ve always loved you since that day you became my tutor for bio.” you smile at the memory. “so yes, i do want to be with you and i do want this.” you lean closer. “i want you.”
that confession and tender glint in those pretty eyes were all he needed to give in. his hands very slowly rise to gently cup your cheeks as miguel bends down to reach your face, not giving a shit about the potential back pain. those scarlet orbs boring into your pretty ones, overflowing with immense adoration. the close proximity makes your lashes flutter and both your hearts racing.
“¿puedo?” he whispers against your lips.
you roll your eyes, grinning. he’s still respectful even when you desperately want him to kiss you and devour your lips after what feels like an eternity because goddamnit you miss those plump ass lips.
“ya bésame, miguel.”
your inpatient attitude makes him grin before leaning forward to finally capture your lips with his after a fucking lifetime. the moment you both have been waiting for, dreaming of for years. like fireworks exploding in both your bodies. the longing, the desperation all expressed in the kiss. two souls finally reconnected after what felt like an eternity. goddamnit did he miss those soft lips, the same ones that haunted his dreams for seven years. too damn long and he ain’t gonna waste it, leading miguel to apply more pressure into the kiss which earns him a heavenly moan that almost makes his core throb. the kiss advanced more heated and desperate, savoring the taste of each other. a full blown makeout session. soft moans and groans lingering in the air, hands roam over each other’s bodies. your hands gripping his thick neck, one hand gripping his brown locks which elicits a groan from him. softly gasping when miguel’s large hands squeeze and grope your curves over the silkiness of your nightgown a little possessively, leaving you hot and bothered.
while messily making out, miguel hoists you in his arms and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he walks towards the bed. your lips never detached as he carefully placed you down on the plush mattress, your back against the silky sheets and him settled in between your legs. fingers digging and gripping those soft brown curls, hands roaming over those muscular shoulders and thick neck, sending shivers of pleasure down miguel’s spine. those same damn muscles you missed touching, the rippling sensation underneath your fingertips, digging your nails into them. miguel has always worked out since those college days, had muscle since but definitely gained more these past seven years and you can feel how muscular he’s gotten. maybe that half-spider DNA thing had some influence, enhanced his muscles and build. but besides that, you just miss touching them. thankfully you recently got your nails done, a fresh set ready to mark your canvas. you’re even more eager to do so because you know digging your nails into his back drives miguel crazy, to hear those heavenly groans.
a soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel one of miguel’s gloved hands slowly slip the hem of your nightgown up your thigh, his fingertips reaching your inner thighs. a move you’re familiar with and always made you tremble, still remember even years later. god you miss him touching you. those calloused hands roaming and groping your curves, every inch of you, melting under his additive touch. miguel moved away from your mouth but eases your concerns as he travels down, leaving a trail of kisses from your jawline to your neck. soft moans fall from your lips at the addictive sensation, mind becoming putty. one hand rested in his hair and the other gripping onto his shoulder, feeling the holographic particles of his suit under your fingertips. his hands continue roaming your body as miguel leaves wet kisses on your neck, intending on marking you.
“missed this,” he mumbles in between kisses and licks, drunk on your skin. “missed you, bebita.”
that old nickname from college, the one you adored, makes your heart flutter, responding with a soft whimper and a tug on his hair. “miguel~”
“seven fucking years…” a gasp escapes your lips when you feel his fangs gently prickling your skin. “you have any idea what that did to me?” his voice drops an octave, seductive. “the love of my life taken from me for seven years? drove me insane, bebita.”
another soft whimper falls from your lips when his fangs gently nipping your skin then leaves kisses over the sensitive area, making you arch your back. so utterly desperate to feel more of him. also, him calling you the love of his life? drove you over the fucking edge even more. god, you love this man.
“seven years without you, your voice, your laugh, your scent, your lips…” he whispers while his hands slowly roam and grope over your body, sending shivers of please through you and making your mind putty. “drove me fucking crazy, hermosa.” another few kisses on your neck before he lifts his head up to look down at you with intense adoration, lips hovering yours. “i’m not wasting a fucking second.”
your heart flutters and you don’t waste a second either by cupping his face and yanking him down to your lips together in a kiss filled with intense love, reuniting your souls. miguel swiftly trails down to your chest and buries his face in your cleavage, making out with your covered breasts. soft moaning as his calloused hands squeeze and knead your tits through the silky material of your nightgown. your hands play with his hair again, digging in those soft brown curls as endless soft moans spill from your lips at the incredible sensation miguel is providing you. moaning out his name and arching your back as his tongue slides over the roundness of your exposed breast. alternative between each one, kissing and licking the soft sensitive skin as his hands continue kneading and squeezing the squishy fat.
“miguel!~” you moan a bit louder and arch your back as he sucks your nipples through the silky nightgown, leaving a wet stain on the fabric.
he responds with a muffled groan, busy with providing much affection towards your delicate breasts. miguel then slowly trails down your body, kissing over the silky fabric of your nightgown, mind hazy from your fingers combing through his hair. god he misses that addictive sensation so much. like your nails were meant to be digging and playing with his hair and it always made his mind putty. miguel reaches towards the hem of your nightgown and slowly raises it, exposing your stomach and cute white panties. the cool air hitting your core makes you gasp softly. miguel grins at the wet stain on your panties but his attention is on your belly. he peppers it with adoring kisses and sinful licks, eliciting more of those cute soft noises he adores so much. that same noises that drive miguel fucking crazy. he’s drunk on your soft skin, savoring it and worshiping your body like a temple. to him, you are his temple.
a soft gasp falls from your lips as you feel his own on your clothed pussy, a bit too eagerly inhaling your scent. “still have that same sweet fucking scent, years later and it still drives me crazy.” he murmurs against the fabric. that sweet scent of yours is a like a fucking drug, intoxicating and addictive.
“miguel, please~” you whine, your needy fingers gripping onto his hair as a sign. he’s right there, your core throbbing terribly, and you’re losing your mind.
the bastard has the audacity to chuckle at your neediness. “¿qué quieres, bebita?” the teasing is inevitable, you’re adorable when you’re needy for him. but he’s also losing his mind too.
“no me jodas, miguel.”
that earns him a slightly harsh tug on his hair, causing his grin to widen. miguel has always adored when you’re bossy. the man may be 6’9 of pure muscle but will succumb to his knees when bossed around by a woman. a major turn on for him.
“relájate, bebé.” he softly chuckles. “i’ll take care of you like i always do, lo prometo.”
he is right, miguel always took care of you during sex. teasing but always a gentle provider. flashbacks of all your guys’ hookups during college ran through your mind. he always made sure you were comfortable, asking if you were okay no matter how steamy or soft the moment was. that baritone voice laced with tenderness whispering sweet praises, like dipped in honey while his body provided you pleasure in impeccable ways. hitting that sweet spot so perfectly, releasing intense yet fantastic ecstasy like waves coursing through your body. calloused hands roaming and groping every curve that makes your mind droopy. every touch, thrust, praise is overwhelming pleasure. you had always appreciated miguel’s care and thanked him every time, which resulted in him responding that you deserved to be treated with gentleness, every girl does. made your heart flutter every time. seven years later, he still cares the same and your heart still flutters.
using his talons to grip the edge of your panties, miguel slides them down your legs. “chinga… estás mojada, preciosa.” miguel curses at the fucking fountain between your legs. seven years later and you’re still wet for him? drives him fucking insane.
the mouthwatering sight fuels that burning desire inside him, causing him to quickly toss the discarded panties somewhere in the room as miguel gets on his knees at the edge of the bad and grab you by the thighs pulling you closer towards him. you squeal his name but miguel is too focused on your glistening folds, licking his lips in anticipation for the greatest meal that he has been dying for after what feels like an eternity. there is no time to react when miguel swiftly puts your legs over his bulky shoulders and immediately dives into your glistening pussy. yelping in surprise as his lips viscously suckles and tongue rapidly flickers your clit. one hand instinctively gripping his hair while the other does the same with the bed sheets as you throw your head back in pleasure. the alternation of him sucking and flickering your sweet bundle of nerves causes intense waves of ecstasy coursing through you.
“oh!~” you moan loudly, gripping tightly on those brown locks like a lifeline. “miguel!~ oh my g—” cut off by your own moaning as he continues eating you out like a damn starved man, basically making you see stars sooner than you expected.
miguel is too lost in the pretty valley between your legs to form any proper thought other than how fucking sweet you still taste after all these years. the same sweet taste that he was addicted to, his own drug. brought back memories of all the times he ate you out, which was very often. the first time is a memory still imbedded in his mind to this day. oh his life changed forever that day, nothing never tasted better than that sweet pussy of yours. that sweet, addictive essence. pretty cunt weeping and swollen in pure arousal that burned his senses. a taste that lingered on his tongue for ages and still craved for more. this moment now was like he found an oasis after suffering from eternal heat for centuries.
“fuck…” his moan vibrates against your pussy, causing you to shudder while moaning endlessly. “seven years later and you still taste fucking sweet, bebita.” his tongue feverishly swirls and flicks your precious clit, eliciting endless pretty moans and whines that makes his cock twitch. motivates him to hear more of those pretty sounds like are music to his ears. his lips give your little pearl a few sucks, making you squirm cutely, before shifting down and dipping his sinful tongue into your throbbing pussy.
a loud squeal erupts from your throat as miguel’s tongue starts penetrating you. “miguel!~” your back arches off the bed like waves as the wet muscle maneuvers that send jolts of pleasure shooting throughout your body. a chorus of moans and whines bouncing off the four walls of your bedroom.
that sweet chorus is proof he is doing it right, providing you pleasure that you deserve. it fuels his desire to continue, to make you come undone on his sinful tongue. those crimson eyes look up at your panting figure in admiration. pretty lips opened letting those heavenly sounds. pretty back arching off the bedsheets like ocean waves. pretty belly contracting due to panting. the most gorgeous angel experiencing immense pleasure above him. a sight that miguel loves. if he could stay in between your legs forever, he would and die happily.
miguel’s tongue continues fucking you mercilessly as he uses one thumb to rub your precious bundle nerves. the sudden sensation elicits a loud moan from you, almost a scream. your cute reaction puts a smile on his face. his thumb draws slow sinful circles on your sensitive clit before sliding it up and down, side to side. the way your legs tremble on his bulky shoulders makes him chuckle.
“you remember that, bebita?” he whispers against your sensitive folds as his thumb continues playing with your clit, admiring your squirming form.
god, yes you do.
he pulled that move all the time when he ate you out back in college. those slow sinful circles on your delicate bundle of nerves. his thumb slowly moving it up and down then side to side. playing with you until you’re seeing stars and forgetting everything.
only miguel could do that to you.
“brought back memories?” his thumb keep toying with your clit while admiring you. “years later and i still remember, preciosa. i still remember it all.”
memories of your time in college flooded his mind. all the nights you and him hooked up. miguel taking you back to his dorm, barely opening the door while eating each other’s faces off and hands roaming each other’s bodies. clothes spread across the floor and hard to find the next morning. the dents on the wall from the headboard repeatedly banging against it due to miguel’s powerful thrusting which earned him multiple complaints from the guys next door. your sweet scent lingering in his sheets for weeks and refusing to wash them until it completely worn off. the few bras or panties you’d forget after leaving his dorm and he’d keep in his drawer for later purposes. some miguel would give back but keep the rest. endlessly changing the bag for his trash bin due to the big amount of used condoms filling up like a mountain and didn’t want his roommates to see it. the few times you’d hook up in the shower, whether at his dorm or yours. the bathroom mirrors fogged up, moans bouncing off the tile walls of the shower. the times you two would sneak off from public events like hanging out with friends. finding a secluded spot and miguel fucking you against the wall, trying to be quiet as much as possible.
the flooding memories makes miguel’s mind hazy and cock throb terribly. but his heart also aches because all those times neither of you confessed your feelings. just two stupid kids messing around until the consequences came up. he should’ve confessed back then and maybe you’ve been together raising gabi like a family. you wouldn’t have been alone raising her and dealt with the issues you’ve been through. a ping of guilt stabs his heart but miguel shakes off the feeling away, not wanting to to ruin this passionate moment. the confession and feelings have already been addressed. this moment now is rekindling your relationship.
miguel glances at you one last time before focusing back on your fluttering folds with his tongue. drawing patterns among your wet walls that elicit more heavenly sounds from you. the more flicks of his thumb and tongue, that warm feeling in your lower belly increases and your moans become louder and pitchier. a small whine almost falls from your lips when miguel removes his thumb from your swollen clit until it’s replaced with his tongue and two fingers slip pass your soaking folds, making you moan and gasp simultaneously. you moan out his name and he gently shushes you while continuing on pleasing you.
“m-miguel- oh my- OH!—” your back arches off the bed to an insane degree, thanks to your flexibility, as his fingers reach that sweet spot inside.
the combination of his tongue flickering your clit and his fingers pumping inside you was sending you to cloud fucking nine. miguel provides passionate licks on your sensitive little pearl before suckling on it, lowly moaning at the sensation. his fingers continue pumping inside your wet sensitive walls, curling them as they repeatedly hit your sweet spot. both his fingers and tongue pick up pace, determined to make you cum. miguel knows you’re close by the increased volume of your moans, urging him to go faster and make you see the whole damn universe.
“ah~ i’m gonna— miguel, i—”
“dámelo, bebé.”
his voice dipped in lust and adoration like honey was the cherry on top. more flicks of his tongue and fingers, you finally cum with the loudest moan ever, almost like a wail. back arched off the sheets and stars in your vision as you gush all over miguel’s face. the pleasure is so intense you even squirt, which he doesn’t mind at all but enjoy it all. miguel devours all of your sweet nectar like his life depends on it. acting like a greedy little shit and he isn’t ashamed of. slurping all of your cum like there is no tomorrow. his favorite meal ever and damn does he miss it so much. seven fucking years without your sweetness is torture. obscure noises flooded the room, the wetness of your cum and miguel’s muffled groans. your thighs tremble around his head, feeling overstimulated by the never-ending pleasure he is still providing with that devious tongue of his.
“m-miguel, stop~ please~” you whine, squirming in his hold. “it’s too m-much…” if he continues, you’re for sure you’re gonna pass out from pleasure.
his greed consumed him, still savoring your sweet cum. licking and sucking every ounce, not allowing a single drop go to waste. it’s been seven fucking years, miguel ain’t wasting this moment. finally once he has his fill, miguel releases your poor sensitive pussy with a pop! and has a huge smug ass grin. oh he really enjoyed his meal and ain’t afraid to show it. his lips and chin glistening with your cum. you’re too fucked out to even open your eyes, laying there breathless and a bit overstimulated. miguel wipes his chin clean with the back of his hand and licks the leftover of your cum around his lips as he gently lifts your legs from his shoulders and hovers above you.
“are you okay?” he looks down at you concerningly with a gentle hand on your cheek, a major contrast to his lustful attitude moments ago.
you respond with a weak ‘mhm’ due to your breathlessness, eyes still closed. that man really did a number on you and hasn’t even fucked you yet.
those scarlet eyes scan over your fucked out, angelic form. eyes closed, chest heaving with a coat of sweat glistening in the moonlight, breathless, hair disheveled, thighs trembling, cunt swollen. the afterglow looks so beautiful on you.
“you’re glowing, preciosa.” he coos with a heartfelt grin on his face, caressing your cheek.
“stop it~” you whine softly, trying to turn away from him but your tried body refused to. your cheeks are already warm, now you feel like a furnace.
he always complimented you after a steamy moment and it made you flustered every time.
even now, he still does.
miguel softly chuckles at your cute flustered expression. “es la verdad,” he leans down closer towards your ear. “you’ll be glowing more soon.”
the drop in his tone makes you shiver. finally opening your eyes and looking up at him, you admire his pretty face in the dark atmosphere of your bedroom for a moment. crimson eyes filled with adoration staring down at you. remembering the old chestnut ones you adore. no matter the color of his eyes, they are still beautiful and you never get tired of admiring them. raising your arms, you cup miguel’s face with your hands and pull him closer to kiss him, which he gladly reciprocates. you can taste yourself on his tongue as the passionate kiss continues.
much to miguel’s dismay, you pull away from the kiss and he frowns a little. a soft groan almost escapes his lips as he tries chasing yours but you keep moving away. his grumpiness makes you chuckle.
“take off the suit, arañito.” a hint of seductiveness in your tone, grinning up at him.
his body shivers at that. with no hesitation, miguel’s suit disintegrates by command. revealing his muscular nude form in all its glory. a soft gasp falls from your lips at the glorious sight above you. thick muscular arms caging you in. bulky shoulders that need to be gripped. broad chest decorated in scrumptious body chair. delicious abs followed by a mouthwatering happy trail that leads down to the thing you’ve been anticipating for.
throbbing cock sprung out, tip leaking with precum. damn it looks bigger than before. well, it’s been seven years so of course it has grown. that spider DNA really did some enhancements in all accepts. staring at it makes you wonder if it’ll fit.
miguel senses your apprehension, his expression softens. “i’ll go gentle, preciosa, lo prometo.” he brings up a hand and caresses your cheek with such tenderness, hoping to ease your worries. “if you need me to stop, dime. don’t be afraid to.”
your eyes shot up back at him, seeing the soft glint in his eyes before nodding. “i know you will.” you offer a soft smile, leaning into his touch.
his heart swoons, a feeing miguel hasn’t felt in a long time. a feeling that only you could make.
miguel stares at you for a moment longer, making sure you’re truly okay with this before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss, which you gladly accept. he pulls away to position himself in between your legs. one arm holding himself above you while using the other to grip his throbbing cock in his hand. just as he aligns himself with your entrance, you strip yourself from the nightgown and toss it somewhere across the room, leaving yourself completely bare to his eyes. miguel’s breath hitches and pupils dilate drastically as those crimson eyes roam over your nude form. admiring your soft skin, stretch marks, supple breasts, perky nipples, every curve like a piece of art. you are a masterpiece.
“hermosa…” he whispers, mainly to himself but doesn’t mind that you heard him.
he can’t help it, you are utterly breathtaking and miguel isn’t afraid to admit that.
his compliment makes your cheeks warm and heart flutter. before he could properly align himself, miguel grabs a pillow and carefully slips it underneath your hips for support after softly asking you to lift them. once you’re comfortable, miguel realigns himself with your cunt and slowly begins sliding in. a soft mewl escapes your lips as his thick length slowly slides through your warm, wet walls.
“fuck…” miguel curses, brow furrowed at the sensation of your slick cunt gripping onto him like a vice. “breathe, bebita. okay?”
you can only answer in a small mewl, trying to follow his advice but goddamn this man so big. it’s been seven years since you had him inside you and he feels a bit bigger now. will he even fit?!
the small frown on your face makes his chest ache. he’s hurting you. “i’m gonna stop.”
“no!” you quickly grip onto his bulky shoulder preventing him from moving away, leaving miguel surprised. “just give me a sec…”
“mi alma, you’re in pain. i’m stopping right now—”
“if you move right now, i’m gonna kill you.”
miguel stares down at you with a firm expression. you look back at him with the same look.
“i’m fine.” you reassure him, a sincere glint in your eyes. “it’s just… you’re… different now.”
he raises an amusing brow. “different?”
your eyes roll in annoyance. “oh shut up, you know exactly what i mean and don’t gloat about it.”
the bastard chuckles, which only fuels your annoyance and impatience. “no, preciosa, i don’t know what you mean. dime.”
that stupid smug ass grin on his handsome face.
ugh you just want to slap him.
“¡chingado, miguel!” you exclaim. “it’s been seven fucking years! of course you’re different!”
seeing you frustrated is utterly adorable. “oh so you feel a difference, huh?” his grin widens.
“ugh, yes! it’s been fucking ages since i’ve done this so that’s another thing!” you admit frustratingly, removing your hand from his shoulder.
that smug ass smirk completely wipes off his face and his expression turns more serious, eyes softened. “wait… you haven’t… been anyone since?…”
a sad sigh escapes your lips, turning your head away from him to the side concealing the embarrassment spreading across your face. “yes… i haven’t. especially with gabi, i haven’t had time to so…”
it’s true, since gabriella was born, you’ve been focused on taking care of her. no time for new romances. sure, there were a few gentle callers when your older siblings encouraged a few date nights. most were nice men but things never got serious mainly due to you rejecting afterwards and using gabriella as an excuse. which wasn’t entirely not true since she was, still is, your main responsibility. never participated in one night stands either, never liked the concept of them anyways. there wasn’t time to fulfill personal needs. for the last seven years, you’ve been focused on being a mother. perhaps now the lack of romance and pleasure is biting you in the ass now and god you never felt so embarrassed.
but besides that, your love for miguel never vanished. he still has your heart after many years. no other man could steal it the way he did. it was always him.
miguel’s eyes widen at your confession. all this time, you haven’t been with anyone but him since? seven years is a long time. you’ve actually… loved him… all this time? your heart still beats for him all this time, the same way his beats for yours? your love for him hasn’t outgrown? you truly still love him? miguel’s heart is overwhelmed with adoration for you. part of him is in disbelief because you, the woman he never stopped loving, still love him after everything you went through. never once your heart changed? it still beats for him after these many years? honestly, miguel believed you had moved on for the longest time. forgot about him and gave your heart to someone who truly deserved it, someone who wasn’t afraid to admit their feelings for you. although the thought of another man having your heart made his own ache but miguel believed you deserved a loving, caring partner. yet here you are confessing your underlying love for him all these years.
miguel allows your words to process for a moment, still hovering above you with only his tip slipped through your slick, throbbing folds. those crimson eyes meet your face, still turned away from him, and his brows frown a little in concern. he may not possess a spidey sense but he definitely senses your discomfort and wishes to fix that immediately.
“mi alma…” he calls softly, carefully bringing up a hand to caress your cheek in hopes of getting you to look back at him. “don’t feel guilty, it’s okay. i understand, i…” he grows quite for a moment, finding the right words. “i haven’t been with anyone either.”
his confession makes you turn and look back at him with surprise. “seriously?” you ask softly.
“sí…” he nods lightly, a bashful grin on his face. “there was never time for me either. always cooped up in the lab, sometimes stayed overnight.”
“miguel!” you whisper-yelled, gently nudging his shoulder as reprehending him.
his grin widens as he chuckles. “i know, i know.” he gently grabs your wrist that nudged him and give them a little kiss before resting your hand against his cheek. “some nights my coworkers and i would head to the nearest bar after work. they would try to get me drunk enough and hook me up with random women but i never did, was just never interested.”
the thought of miguel with another woman makes your stomach churn. but you can’t blame him if he wanted to since you disappeared from each other’s lives and went your own separate paths. during that time you never really thought of that possibility, only when you thought of miguel at times. but here he is reciprocating the same feelings. now both of you realize you haven’t been with other people since college, evidence of your love for each other.
the thought causes you to break into laughter, leaving a slightly confused miguel above you.
“¿qué?” miguel can’t help but crack a little smile, relishing the sweet sound of your laughter.
“sorry.” your laughter dies down, now softly chuckling while covering your eyes with a hand. “it’s just… that proves that we never really stopped thinking about each other.” you admit bashfully.
his smile widens into a toothy grin, his fangs peeking out. “no, we never did.” a soft chuckle slips passed his lips, leaning into your hand on his cheek. “and i won’t stop.” with his free hand, miguel gently removes yours that is covering your eyes. “nunca.”
there he goes again making your heart flutter. bringing up your other hand to cup his face completely, you stare up at him with a soft smile.
“me neither.”
you and miguel share a smile before colliding lips together once again. a symbol of unity.
much to your dismay, miguel pulls away for a moment. “do you still want this?” he glances down at the space between you two for emphasis.
you quickly nod, a bit too eagerly. “yes, i’m gonna fucking explode if you don’t get inside me right now.” that earns you a snort from him.
“alright, alright. i’m coming, amor.”
“oh you will for sure.”
a moment of shared laughter before settling down. after confirming you were okay one last time, miguel slowly slides through your slick walls. his thick length ever so carefully slipping through, letting you feel every inch, until he was balls deep. mouth hung open at the overwhelming stretch of his dick, a feeling you miss so damn much. a shared moan mingles in the air as your bodies connect. bulbous tip rested against your womb, making you whimper.
“¿estas bien, mi amor?” miguel softly asks, caressing your cheek as comfort.
you hum, eyes fluttering. “mueve, miguel~”
he could’ve cum from that whiney plead alone. with a staggering breath, he slowly draws his hips back before rolling them in. a slow deep thrust, making you moan and arch your back. miguel’s brows furrowed in concentration, keeping a steady rhythm to not overwhelm you. lifting himself on his strong forearms rested on each side of your head against the sheets. muscular form consuming your smaller one, clouding your vision. yours hands on his back, nails digging into the muscles that miguel adores. legs wrapped around his waist, thighs above his sturdy ones, cores connected as one. bodies moving in harmony, releasing pleasure within you both. this is the moment you and miguel have been yearning for after a very long time of separation.
miguel’s pupils dilate immensely at the sight of you underneath him, taking everything he is giving you. pretty lips shaped in an “o” shape releasing the prettiest sounds his ears have ever heard. eyes screwed shut and face contorted in pure ecstasy. back arched off the bed, gorgeous body moving in waves at each thrust he makes. it all drove miguel over the edge, creating a sense of pride coursing through his body. all those sounds and movements of ecstasy were because of him. also this the first time you’re having sex since him back in college so that also adds to his pride. all so overwhelming but miguel relishes it, causing his thrusts to increase.
“miguel!~ oh my—” you cut yourself off with a moan as his tip hits that sweet spot inside so perfectly. back arched off the bed and nails clawing his back.
your reaction makes his lips curl into a smile of pride. “qué hermosa.” miguel leans down closer, admiring your squirming form of pleasure while thrusting in your slick heat. “after seven years, you still take me so well, bebita. all this time you could’ve chosen someone else but never stop thinking about me, huh? thought about all those nights like this?” his hips thrust a bit deeper for emphasis, eliciting a gasp mixed with a moan from you. “did you, bebita?”
“y-yes i always did~” you moan shamelessly.
that inflates his pride and ego. “all those nights alone, in bed… you always thought about me, hm?” he decides to tease you a little, just like old times.
“f-fuck- yes!” a frustrated whine leaves your lips while acting like a moaning mess, causing him smile to widen before gently shushing you.
“shhh… relájate, bebé~ lo siento… ” one of his hands caresses your cheek, easing your growing frustration. “i always thought about you too.” his lips capture yours in a kiss while continuing making love, swallowing those pretty moans he loves.
the air is mingled with your moans and miguel’s groans as the love-making progresses. the tip of his cock repeatedly kissing your sweet spot, driving you on edge. leaving your mind a putty mess. your hands rested on his muscular back, nails digging into his skin leaving indents and scratch marks. the burning sensation makes him hiss a little bit miguel doesn’t mind because they’ll be a reminder of you and your love for him. one of your hands slide off his back and lands on the bed. miguel gently takes it with his own and pins it beside your head with fingers intertwined, making it more intimate.
you part away from his lips as he does a deep thrust. “oh miguel~” you moan breathlessly. head thrown back against the sheets, brows furrowed and mouth agape in ecstasy.
god he feels so fucking amazing.
miguel gazes down at you with pure adoration and in his eyes. a grin tugging on his lips. “qué linda.”
in one swift motion, miguel flips you both over the bed. the sudden movement makes you gasp in surprise. if you weren’t indulging in intense pleasure right now, you would’ve smacked the back of his head as reprehending. now miguel sits up on the bed and you in his lap straddling him. you wrap your arms around his bulky shoulders, nuzzling your face into his chest as more moans spill from your lips. miguel securely holds you, one arm wrapped around your upper back and the other around your waist, as if he’s hugging you. his face buried in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent. the position is so intimate, embracing each other as you make love.
your head tips back releasing endless moans as miguel continues thrusting into your heated core, his bulbous tip angled perfectly in this position hitting that sensation spot. the intense the pleasure grows, the tighter your grip on his hair gets which miguel doesn’t mind but rather relishes it. he loved when you’d tug on his hair, it was a sign that you were feeling good. he missed that feeling, you gripping onto him in every possible way, reflecting the pleasure you were experiencing. with your head ripped back and neck exposed, miguel seizes the opportunity to plant delicate kisses on the soft skin. kissing, sucking, licking. even a little bite which makes you squeal. miguel couldn’t resist the urge to dig his fangs into your celestial skin, only just a tiny nip and that was it. he would never hurt you. only a little love bite, a reflection of his love for you. but miguel really wanted to use his fangs on you to fulfill a strange sexual fantasy of his. he knows you’ll give him shit about it later but right now he doesn’t care.
lifting away from your now hickey covered neck, miguel admires your blissful form. holding you like you’re the most delicate piece of art. witnessing you experience immense pleasure is a sight he will never ever get tired of. his beautiful angel.
“mi amor hermosa~” he coos, grinning when you let out a whimper. “qué tan hermosa~”
“miguel~” you whine softly, feeling flustered by his sweet words of affection and overwhelmed by his thick cock thrusting in and out of you.
“mírame, mi amor.”
you let out another whine in protest, already feeling too flustered to look at him but you do anyways. reluctantly opening your eyes, your blissful ones finds those scarlet orbs already looking at you filled with lust and adoration. seeing your gorgeous blown out eyes makes miguel smile lovingly.
“there’s my beautiful girl.”
the sweet endearment warms your cheeks, staring up at him with fluttering lashes before tugging him by the neck to press your lips against his.
“té quiero, miguel.” you whisper against his lips. the kind of whisper containing a sprinkle of love meant for his heart and his heart only.
and his heart was swoon with intense adoration by your soft confession. like it sealed the deal, a heart-shaped locket around your souls and forever together. never letting go of each other ever again.
“té quiero, mi alma. té quiero tanto.” he whispers in between kisses. “i never stopped loving you,” one deep thrust. “and i never will.” a much deeper one, sending you over the edge. back arched, head thrown back, moaning prettily. making him smile.
the love confessions makes the love-making more intimate, beautiful. desperately holding onto each other in a loving embrace. your nails clawing his bulky shoulders and biceps. miguel’s hands roaming over your body, worshiping you in his lap. another deep thrust from him causes your back to arch, exposing your bare chest to his hungry gaze. without hesitation, miguel dips down and captures a perky nipple with his lips, suckling it before swirling his tongue around it. eliciting more of those heavenly moans that are music to his ears. his mouth provides much affection towards your breasts as his cock continues pumping into your slick sensitive pussy.
very slowly and steadily, miguel fills you both over back in the old position, him above and you underneath. your grip on his bulky shoulders tighten when his thrusts quicken, increasing that burning sensation in your core. miguel knows it, senses it, and it motivates him to keep thrusting until you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy. utterly lost in that sweet cunt of yours, greedily sucking him in and squeezing the fuck out of him. seven fucking years and you still have a vice grip on him.
“miguel, i—” cut off by your own moan as the burning sensation in your core intensifies with each thrust, like a firework is about to combust.
“i know, bebé. i fuck—” miguel groans, brows pinched together in pleasure as he feels you clenching around him so damn tight. reaching down with a hand, miguel flicks your clit to give you more pleasure. each flick in unison of his thrusts. “cum, mi amor.” he coos when you squeal at the sudden stimulation, observing you with pure adoration.
several more flicks and thrusts, you cum beautifully with a loud moan of his name. probably the loudest moan of the night that the whole neighborhood can hear. the most beautiful moan falling those gorgeous lips, pretty back arched, head thrown back in ecstasy, your sweetness gushing over his cock. miguel savored it all, a sight meant for him and him only, forever imbedded in his mind. after a few thrusts, his hips stutter before spilling himself inside of you, hot white spurts into your womb, and pumping you full. the warm, filling sensation makes you moan softly. feeling utterly filled by him. you both remain like that while recovering from your intense highs. sweaty bodies connected. your synchronized breathing echoing in the room.
“you okay?” lifting himself by the elbows, miguel looks down at you with a concerned look. “did i hurt you?” he caresses your cheek lovingly.
you lean into his touch with closed eyes, softly humming. “no, i’m fine. just had a nice workout.”
miguel huffs, rolling his eyes but has a grin tugging on his lips. “tonta…” he leans down and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead before slowly pulling out, eliciting a soft whine from you. he gently shushes you with another soft kiss then slowly rises off the bed to fetch a towel from your bathroom.
you simply lay there, allowing exhaustion to flow through your sweaty overheated body. not even a minute, you hear him come back and softly hum when you feel the fabric of the towel down your inner thighs. he’s being gentle as possible to not overwhelm you. giving your thighs tender rubs and kisses as comfort while cleaning you up. even years later, miguel is still ever so gentle with you and providing the aftercare you need. it brought you back memories from your college days. a younger version of miguel, who wore glasses, being so gentle with you and whispering the sweetest praises after a good fucking. still carries that gentleness but now as a man. a man you wholeheartedly adore.
once you’re cleaned up and cleaned himself, miguel tosses the dirty towel in the hamper and digs into your drawers for new panties. you hear the ruffling, causing your eyes to open and turn your head to the side. grinning at the hunk of a man digging through your dresser. almost laughing when he opened the wrong drawers before finding the correct one. as your lips part open to say something, your eyes detect the fresh cold water bottle on the nightstand. the sight brings a smile to your face.
always thoughtful.
once he finds a new pair of panties, miguel returns and kneels by the your side carefully slipping the new garment for you, which you deeply appreciate, then proceeds to slip into his boxers. you sit up and reach for the water bottle on the nightstand but miguel swiftly steps in and grabs it, opening it for you.
“loving the royal treatment.” you can’t help but giggle at his chivalry and he shakes his head. you definitely caught that little grin.
kneeling by your side, he brings the bottle up to your lips while his other hand is placed on your back as support. “drink, hermosa.” you so do, taking a few sips that leaves him unsatisfied. “más, mi amor.”
complying, you drink bigger sips. relishing the cool, refreshing water down your bit irritated throat from all that moaning and screaming. once you’ve drank enough that left him satisfied, miguel drank some himself while you get under the covers. he leaves the bottle on the nightstand and joins you in bed. his muscular arms scoop you up, bringing you to his chest. you softly sigh as you snuggle into his warmth that always felt comforting. his heartbeat against your ear, soothing you into a relaxed state. embracing each other in comfortable silence as the weight of tonight’s events slowly soothes down.
“did you seriously bite me?”
miguel groans embarrassingly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i knew you were gonna mention that.”
“got a biting kink?” you tease.
“it was just… in the moment.”
you snort, lightly slapping his chest. “in the moment, my ass. you definitely got a biting kink and went to town on my neck. probably gonna look like dracula bit me… oh shit, you’re basically dracula.”
miguel swiftly looks down at you with a frown, baffled that you compared him to one of the most famous gothic fictional characters. “i’m not dracula and i don’t have a biting kink.”
oh that’s a fatass lie. he does have a biting kink after attempting it on you. but of course his stubborn ass refuses to accept it, mainly due to embarrassment.
“mentiroso.” you give his chest another teasing, heartfelt slap. “pinche dracula.”
“ay por dios, mujer.”
the nickname may not be pleasing to him but hearing you laugh makes it up for it.
“i mean- i don’t mind, just don’t get too crazy or else i’m not gonna have enough foundation to cover it and gabi is gonna ask questions.”
that makes him laugh. miguel can already imagine the shit ton of questions she would ask and honestly can’t blame her. he should be more careful.
“oh, i should probably tell gabi her dad is dracula—”
“¡mujer!”
his reaction makes you laugh. lost in laughter before miguel swiftly turns you both over the bed, making you yelp as he lays on top of you with all his weight. now he’s the one laughing and you annoyed with his dumbassery. not long until you’re laughing too.
the night ended on a cute note.
the cool breeze of the night flows through you as you jump from one rooftop to another. a smirk grows on your face when the faint sounds of webs slinging from behind reaches your ears. smoothly landing one random rooftop, you silently admire the beautiful night sky when you hear a light thud and footsteps approaching from behind. that smirk turns into a smile when a certain pair of strong arms wrap around your waist and gently tug you against a solid chest.
“though you retired from this?” miguel asks, mask already disintegrated. allowing the cool night breeze flow those his dark brown locks.
you shrug nonchalantly, leaning into him while still staring at the sky. “just wanted relive old times.”
“being a pain in the ass, stealing all the time?”
“a girl gotta make a living.” another nonchalant shrug. “but it was for our little girl.”
he immediately softens the moment gabriella is mentioned, causing his arms to give you a gentle loving squeeze. “i know… but we’re better now.”
“we are…” you glance down at the pretty diamond ring on your finger, gleaming in the moonlight.
it’s been a year since you and miguel reunited. finally became a family but made it more official when you two got married a few months ago. sure, it seems like a short time getting back together but you and miguel knew you were meant for each other. no more waiting, hiding feelings, sneaking around, doing dumb shit. this time is official, the real deal. miguel continues to work at alchemax, which most of the income comes from. after the wedding, you quit your job at the diner and became a writer for a highly acclaimed fashion blog with an incredible pay. bought a beautiful house with a big ass backyard that includes a pool. the perfect place for your family to create wonderful memories together.
“we should head back.” he suggests. “we have to pick gabi from your parents early tomorrow.”
“it’ll be fine. besides, they love having her there all the time and she loves their house so it’s okay. let’s just stay here a few more minutes, please?” you look at him with fluttering lashes, knowing that he can never resist that cute pleading look.
“fine, five more minutes.” miguel mumbles, biting back a smile as he holds you closer.
the two of you silently admire the gorgeous night sky, holding each other close, relishing this cute intimate moment. bringing back memories of your black cat and spiderman days when neither of you knew of each other’s true identities. silly, fun times.
but it’s even better now you and miguel are back together, officially this time. being great parents to your precious daughter and being a happy family. a dream that you’ve longed for, now came true.
perhaps curiosity killed the cat but in a good way.
miguel o'hara fucking you in a headlock to relieve his stress. ¹⁸⁺
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, choking, headlock, rough sex, miguel has a big dick, unprotected p in v sex, nipple play, creampie, basically pwp heheh.
masterlist
he had been dealing with it all week—villains ripping through dimensions, endless vigilantes chasing, peter b. and lyla yapping his ears off, and no sleep.
he stalked into your shared apartment late. his spider-suit ripped at the shoulder, mask disheveled and torn—showing his crimson eyes flaring with pent-up rage and frustration.
and you were on the couch just mindlessly scrolling through your phone, perched up prettily in nothing but his oversized tee and pair of short shorts, not looking up till you can feel his larger figure looming over you.
“hey baby–” you smiled, immediately cut off when his massive hands yanked you up by the waist effortlessly—spinning you around, bending you over the couch with your face down, making you gasp.
your eyes rolled as his thick forearm hooked your neck instantly. his bicep felt like iron against your throat—locking you flush to his bulging pecs.
“miguel–” you choke out.
“shhh… i need this, sweetheart,” he growled, fangs seething out as he scraped it against your earlobe, down to your neck.
meanwhile, his free hand worked its way to his suit, pressing a button of his chemically bonded suit, quickly making him bare.
his cock already achingly hard—dark mauve tip glistening with precum, the veins that laced his length pulsating as all the blood in his body centered down south. he stroked it once, twice, before ripping your dampening panties to the side roughly.
slamming his cock deep inside you, making you cry out his name. your unprepared slick walls fluttering—shocked by the sensation and his girth.
“fuck,” he grunted. he didn’t let you get used to his throbbing cock as his hips snapped brutally, no mercy—each thrust making your ass ripple against his hips. balls slapping wet to your clit, causing your walls to tighten up around him even more.
you choke out incoherent words as the arm around your neck tightened. feeling dizzy as the oxygen and blood inside you start to deplete. fingers weakly clutching the cushions as you try to find something to hold on to—as if doing so can relieve the addicting pressure around your neck and lower stomach.
“fucking take it, baby,” he groaned against your ear. previous stress melting into pure lust and instinct, fucking you deeper and harder. his free hand now found the hem of his shirt that you’re wearing, yanking it up to let out your bouncing tits—pinching your hardened and sensitive nipple, making you drool out moans and spit into the headrest.
his pace now was downright feral as he heard you struggling to rasp out his name. too cockdrunk and head empty. only filled by the pleasure and how cock is practically hitting every spot inside your cunt deliciously. dragging in and out thoroughly.
you clenched harder when his fingers found your clit. middle finger perfectly circling the bundle of nerves, spreading his seed and your own all over your cunt.
“gonna come–” you gagged.
“come for me.”
his hips snapping harder—bullying your poor cunt and choking you tighter.
you pulse out—letting out the most blinding orgasm. walls clamping him down like a vice, body jolting in his arms as you let out the most erotic cry he’s ever heard.
“fuck–! such a fucking tight pussy–” he moaned, pumping relentlessly till he found his own climax. cum spilling deep inside you, painting your walls white.
he kept fucking you through your orgasms. eventually unwrapping the arm around you and slowing down just the slightest before finally pulling out his cock.
the image in front of him was a sight to behold. his seeds drooling out of your fluttering hole, his t-shirt sticking all over from the sweat, body still trembling and hips jolting, and mumbling out incoherent words.
“can’t even speak?” he scoffed. his own chest heaving as he calmed down from what just happened.
you glanced back at him, a small and weak smile on your face.
“can you do that more often?”
a/n: inspired by this art @kryptidfiles sent me 🫦 ty jae for making want to write this. also this was something i wrote in between the peter fic. let's just pray i can get that done soon.
Summary: You slowly realise your boyfriend Miguel O’Hara is Spider-Man through his patterns.
Miguel O’Hara is a man of patterns.
You learn them slowly.
The way he always chooses quiet restaurants. The way his hand finds the small of your back without thinking. The way he stiffens when sirens start, even when he pretends not to hear them.
And then there are the disappearances.
Every time something goes wrong in the city, Miguel is suddenly gone.
A phone call. An excuse. A hurried kiss pressed to your temple. He promises he will be right back.
He never is.
Spider-Man is, though.
You see him on the news, red and blue cutting through smoke and chaos. Saving people. Catching falling debris. Swinging between buildings while your boyfriend is nowhere to be found.
You tell yourself it is a coincidence.
You tell yourself you are paranoid. You love Miguel, and love makes excuses easily.
Until the night it becomes impossible to ignore.
You are halfway through dinner when the ground trembles, a distant explosion rattling the windows. Miguel freezes. His jaw tightens.
“I need to step out,” he says too quickly. “Just for a minute.”
“Miguel?”
He is already gone.
You step outside moments later, heart racing. Smoke rises a few blocks away. Sirens scream. And there he is, Spider-Man, vaulting over a wrecked car, heading straight for the disaster.
Panic grips you.
“Hey,” you shout, running toward him. “Please. My boyfriend was just here. Miguel. Please, can you help him?”
The mask tilts toward you. For just a second, something breaks in his posture.
Then he is gone.
Miguel returns ten minutes later, breathless, hair dishevelled, acting as if nothing had happened.
You do not confront him. Not yet.
The truth reveals itself a week later.
You are at his apartment when news of a fire lights up your phone. Miguel glances at the screen, then at you.
“I need to go to the store. We are out of a few things.”
You nod. Smile. Pretend your heart is not pounding.
While he is gone, you shower. The water is hot enough to sting, but it does not quiet your thoughts. When you step out, wrapped in a towel, you open his dresser, looking for one of his shirts.
At the bottom drawer, beneath folded clothes, you find it.
An old Spider-Man mask.
Worn. Faded. Carefully kept.
Your hands shake as you put it back exactly where it was.
When Miguel returns, you kiss him. You laugh. You act normal.
But you know now.
You just need the right moment.
It comes on a crowded subway platform.
Something goes wrong.
You barely understand what happens before the lights flicker and people start screaming. Metal shrieks. The tunnel trembles.
Spider-Man is there in seconds, holding beams, shouting orders, saving everyone he can.
You help people limp away, guiding them to safety. One by one, the platform empties until it is just you and him.
Then the ceiling groans.
A chunk of concrete crashes down, pinning your leg. Pain explodes through you.
“No,” Spider-Man shouts, straining against the debris. “I have you. I have you.”
You grab his wrist, fingers slick with dust and blood.
“It’s okay, Miguel, get out of here. It’s going to collapse.”
He does not react at first. He is too focused on saving you.
Another tremor. You scream in pain.
“It’s okay,” you say again, voice shaking. “You did your best. My leg is broken. I can feel it. Miguel, please.”
He freezes.
Slowly, the mask turns toward you.
“How,” he breathes.
“I love you,” you say softly. “But please. Save yourself.”
He argues, of course, he does. His voice cracks. His hands shake. He refuses every word you say.
Then the ceiling collapses further.
With a roar of effort, he lifts the debris, hauls you into his arms, and swings you out just as the tunnel caves in behind you.
You cling to him, pain and relief tangled together. He lands near the hospital and carries you inside without a word.
When you wake, your leg is wrapped and elevated.
The room is quiet.
Miguel sits beside your bed in civilian clothes, eyes red, hands clasped tightly together.
“How did you know?” he asks quietly.
You tell him everything. The disappearances. The dates. The mask. The way your heart had known before your mind caught up.
He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours.
“I wanted to protect you. I never wanted to lie to you.”
You cup his face gently.
“You did protect me. And I would choose you again. Every time.”
He kisses you then, careful and trembling, like the world might shatter if he is not gentle.
“I love you,” Miguel says.
You smile through the pain.
“I know."
Recovery is more peaceful than the chaos that brought you here.
The hospital room smells faintly of antiseptic and clean linen. Machines hum softly.
Your leg is heavy with bandages, elevated and aching in a dull, constant way.
Miguel barely leaves the chair beside your bed. When he does, it is only to pace a few steps before sitting again, like moving too far from you physically hurts.
He learns your pain schedule better than the nurses do.
“You are due for medication,” he murmurs before you even glance at the clock.
You smile weakly.
“You memorised it.”
“I memorise things that matter,” he replies, eyes never leaving you.
He helps you wash your face in the mornings, holding the basin steady, handing you the towel like it is something precious. When you struggle to move in bed, he moves instantly, careful hands bracing your shoulders, your waist, always asking permission with his eyes even if his voice stays quiet.
At night, when the ward settles, he finally talks.
“I was so scared,” he admits once, voice barely above a whisper. “Not of losing you. Of surviving you.”
You turn your head toward him.
“Miguel.”
“If you had died because of me, I would have broken. Completely.”
You reach for his hand. He grips yours like it is an anchor.
“But you did not. Because you stayed.”
That seems to undo him more than anything else. He bows his head and presses a kiss to your knuckles, breath shaky.
When you are discharged, Miguel brings you home.
Your crutches lean against the wall by the door.
He has moved things to make space for you. A blanket was folded neatly on the couch. A pillow positioned just right.
“I set up the shower chair. And I bought groceries. Probably too many.”
You laugh softly.
“You panic-shopped.”
“I prepared,” he corrects, but his ears redden.
Domestic life with Miguel is gentle.
He cooks while you sit at the table, leg propped up, watching him move through the kitchen with precision.
He asks your opinion on everything, seasoning, temperature, portions. When he brings your plate, he kneels slightly to place it in front of you, as if serving you is something sacred.
At night, he helps you into bed. He changes your bandages with care.
“You can tell me if it hurts,” he says every time.
“I will. You do not need to be afraid. You won't break me.”
He exhales slowly. “I am learning.”
Sleep comes easier when he is there. He lies on his side, facing you, one arm draped carefully over your waist, like he is afraid to hold too tightly.
Sometimes you wake to find him watching you.
“What?” you murmur.
“Nothing, I just like knowing you are still here.”
One afternoon, as rain taps against the windows, you catch him staring at the drawer.
“The mask,” you say gently.
He nods.
“I do not want secrets anymore.”
He retrieves it and places it on the table between you. It looks smaller somehow without the weight of lies attached to it.
“This is not all I am, but it is part of me.”
You reach across the table and take his hand.
“And I love all of it.”
That night, when he kisses you, it is slow and unguarded. No urgency. No fear. Just warmth and certainty.
Later, as he helps you settle back against the pillows, you catch his wrist.
He curls beside you, careful of your leg, forehead resting against yours when you hear the sirens.
You know he heard them, his body reacted much like before.
“Miguel.” you spoke.
“Yes?”
"Go."
"Thank you." his voice was barely above a whisper, by the time you sat up, he was already in his suit ready to jump out the window.
"I love you, Miguel."
"Love you too, Mi Amor." He smiled before his mask covered his face and jumped out the window.
You lay back in the bed, happiness filled your chest as you looked at the ceiling.
— For me, just like in the comic, Miguel can get hard on himself when it comes to duty as a Spider-man, even putting himself in more danger almost recklessly. Most because, as shown in the movie, of that stubborness for asking for help, he wants to do everything by himself, can be due to still being a bit of a cocky or the feeling that this is his burden and only his to carry.
It was noon, and you were finishing up your homework.
You were struggling with a certain question.
Stupid calculus.
You hate math.
It never came as naturally to you compared to your friends.
Every spider-person had an advantage that was stronger than their other powers.
For example, Gwen had stronger super-hearing than others. However, her art skills weren't very good.
Miles had other powers others didn't have. Both the invisibility and electricity powers were limited to miles. However, he struggled with Spanish.
You were blessed with better agility, but you struggled a bit with math.
You debated on asking one of your siblings due to how close their rooms were to yours, but you quickly shook that thought away.
Despite all their attempts to get close to you, you still didn't trust them.
Dick's smile finally reached his eyes, but it was very strained.
Tim started conversing with you but tended to look too deeply into basic conversations.
Damian got too protective of you and tended to guard you too often.
Sometimes you just wanted peace and quiet.
Bruce was too quiet, and you weren't ready to accept him as part of your life.
You don't want to, anyway.
You haven't trusted Alfred in years. Not after learning what he did to his daughter, Julia.
You sighed, putting down your pencil and picking up your phone.
You scrolled on social media, which quickly got boring.
Just as you were going to call it a day and go take a shower, you got a notification from a news app.
Sandman was on the loose and was causing chaos.
You were already preparing yourself for the aftermath.
You dreaded having to clean up the mess, especially right after a day of working on schoolwork.
And you had just gotten most of the sand out of your suit from the last Sandman attack.
At least it'll take your mind off school.
You got up and went to pull out your suit from a secret compartment.
Although your secret identity was no longer a secret, it gave you a slight peace of mind having your own secret compartment.
After getting in your suit and getting your web shooters ready, you crawled out your window and left without telling anybody.
You knew at some point someone in your family would know you left, but you'd rather die than ask them for help.
They've scolded you for not asking for help so many times that you lost count, but you preferred working alone.
It made it easier to think.
You made your way to Sandman.
It wasn't long until you were in front of him, intimidating him.
Usually, fighting is a blur.
It's almost always the same every time.
Punches were thrown, kicks landed, and quips were thrown around.
By the end, you were left with bruises and scars yet again.
Sure, it's a nice feeling being able to help everyone and (at least attempt to) help get villains and bad people rehabilitated and changed, but actually fighting gets boring sometimes.
It's almost bittersweet.
Everything feels the same.
This time felt different.
You got to take your frustrations out on a villain of the week.
You know you shouldn't call them villains of the week.
Miles had told you about his cautionary tale and how his life fell apart for quite a bit due to the 'spot situation.'
After a few quips here and there and attacks coming from both sides, you had finished up Sandman's slightly short reign of terror.
The whole time you had your spidey senses going off, and you had a feeling someone was watching you.
It was normal to have people watching you fight; for one, people were nosey, and second, news channels had reports on it, and sometimes you'd have a fan in the crowd.
However, the feeling felt more familiar than usual.
That feeling was reinforced once you saw a black and blue costume in a crowd.
Nightwing, or worse, your brother. You sighed once more, already preparing yourself for his irritating voice and even more annoying self.
"Hey, Spidey!" You rolled your eyes at his words.
He's been trying out nicknames ever since he found out about the nicknames your friends had given you.
You scoffed, "Don't call me that."
"Oh, come on, that one isn't that bad!" You stretched slightly before wincing at a cut that was just healing.
Dick's face quickly changed from his natural smile to a concerned look.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I'll be perfectly fine in about half an hour."
"You shouldn't be afraid to ask for help—"
"I'm not a child. You don't have to treat me like one."
Just as Dick opened his mouth to speak, you swung away, still wincing.
He tried not to think of how much you've grown.
How your tiny hand used to wrap around his finger, how you seemed so much smaller.
How you used to draw on the walls, and how he used to hear you sing made-up songs while walking around the manor.
How you used to spend hours talking about your interests, things you no longer did.
It felt like he blinked, and suddenly 15 years had passed, and you were somehow fighting villains 10x your size.
You were no longer the 3-year-old girl begging him to play tag with you.
He no longer saw you playing in the garden, or sneaking cookies from a cookie jar, or organizing your plushies.
No longer did you look at him like he was the coolest person you knew.
That spot was reserved for Hobie, anyway.
His hands trembled seeing you put yourself in danger for the safety of others.
He's seen you come home with countless scars and bruises all over your body.
You don't cry for them anymore.
You don't ask him for help with anything anymore.
As much as he misses you being a little kid, he knows deep down he didn't know you well back then.
He never has.
He saw how you used to look at everyone sadly.
How you saw everyone enjoying being around each other while you were alone.
He saw how you'd take care of stray animals (and get scolded by Alfred because of how you could've gotten rabies).
He saw how, despite never being loved, you had so much love to give.
The way you help lost kids find their parents, the way you treated animals that had gotten hurt by cruel humans, the way no matter what trouble life had thrown at you, you'd always get back up.
The truth is, it didn't matter if you were a spider-person or not.
Either way, you'd find a way to help others.
And that scared him.
It's ironic how everyone else in the family did the same thing and arguably put themselves in more danger due to not having powers like you.
And oh, your powers.
He isn't blind.
He's seen and heard those days where you were bleeding out due to being stabbed, attacked, or shot.
He's heard you let out a cruel shriek while you were pulling out a knife out of your side.
Your cry still haunts him to this day.
He's walked into a bathroom to see you passed out in a tub after cleaning yourself off.
And if he's picked you up and tucked you into bed like he had when you were 5, that's no one's business but his.
He snapped out of his trance and noticed how you had left already, presumably to the manor.
He made his way back as well.
☆☆☆☆
He didn't notice how you didn't go straight home.
You went to feed stray dogs, specifically your favorite one.
Pav took you to go feed dogs with him a while back.
You thought it was a fun activity and took a liking to it.
It's not like the dog food was extremely expensive, and even if it was, you always had enough money.
Your favorite dog was one that looked and acted like you.
Its fur was the color of your hair, and it had the same eyes as you.
The poor puppy would follow around other dogs.
The other dogs would play with each other and ignore the puppy.
The more you got closer to it, the more it would cling to you.
Unfortunately, you couldn't take it home just yet.
You were scared Damian's dog, Titus, would attack it.
You had to wait a bit.
Maybe you could ask Bruce to make a room for it.
It'd just have to wait for you.
☆☆☆☆
It was late at night, and you were lying in your bed stitching up your suit.
It was very ripped and was slightly falling apart, but you were planning on going to the spider society soon anyway; you could go ask someone who makes suits to make yours again.
Right as you were going to go to sleep, your door opened and your father walked in. You turned your music down.
"Y/n, I've been calling you for half an hour," Bruce grumbled, as if he had just woken from a nap.
You shrugged, letting out a casual "oops."
Bruce rubbed his temple, letting out a deep sigh, as if he was hesitating to speak to you.
"You're coming with me to the league tomorrow."
Your eyes widened in bewilderment. "What?"
"Late in the afternoon. Be prepared."
He left as soon as he came.
You groaned; you were hoping for a day off tomorrow.
You put the sewing kit down and started cleaning up your mess.
After doing your nightly routine, you hopped into bed and hoped going to the league wouldn't be too irritating.
☆☆☆☆
The next day, you went on with your regular day until late afternoon.
You would have honestly forgotten about going to the league if it wasn't for Bruce reminding you over and over again.
You wish you could've forgotten how you had to go.
Your body hurt, and you wanted to take a fat nap after a long day of helping people with crime.
You reluctantly agreed to go with Bruce, assuming he just wanted to spend time with you.
You agreed with only a few conditions: Bruce would not refer to you as his daughter, and you would not take your mask off and would be as anonymous as you could.
Thankfully he was fully on board, due to him being the same with his anonymity.
At least, before his identity was revealed to the others.
As you got into your suit, taking note of how somewhat mangled it was, you made your way to the Batcave.
As soon as you got there, you saw him already in the Batmobile waiting for you.
You sat down in the backseat and put in your earbuds to ignore the uncomfortable silence.
You took a small nap, not noticing Bruce's disgustingly sweet smile.
☆☆☆☆
You woke up whilst Bruce was parking his car.
You yawned, wiped off your sleepy drool, and pulled down your mask, preparing to get out of the car.
Once you got out, you let out a stretch. You walked out of the car and entered the building alongside Bruce.
You could see him contemplating something, most likely how to talk to you.
You didn't put much mind to it, too busy focusing on the actual building and how fancy it looked.
If Bruce was talking, you weren't paying attention.
You walked into the building, not bothering with holding open the door for Bruce.
You walked slowly, hoping Bruce would walk in front of you and lead the way.
Lucky for you, he did.
You were too stubborn to ask him, so you were glad he did it anyway.
You followed him and looked at your surroundings quite a bit.
You were too scared to touch anything and break it.
Before you knew it, you were in the same room as the other members of the Justice League.
Bruce, or well, Batman, as you would refer to him for the sake of the other members, walked in before you.
You stood beside him, looking stiff due to how awkward you felt.
He began introducing you to the others.
"This is Aranea, Aranea, this is the Justice League." You noticed how Superman wasn't in the room.
"Hi, it's nice to meet you all."
You attempted to change your voice so the others wouldn't recognize you.
By the look of their faces, you assumed they didn't figure it out.
Sure, most likely they didn't know who you were (outside of costume, at least), but you never know!
As the others greeted you, you sat down. There were 3 open seats, and one of them was Bruce's.
You sat down next to him and noticed how the one to your right was still open as well.
You sat down and put your hands on your lap, as if to keep track of them.
You were too scared to touch anything or speak too loudly.
An anxious atmosphere took over the room. Wonder Woman spoke up, clearing her throat.
"As soon as everyone's here, we can begin."
Just as you were about to speak up, Superman walks in.
"Speak of the devil," Green Lantern says, making Superman chuckle.
Superman started apologizing: "I'm sorry, something came up."
You looked at him, starstruck.
Sure, you knew Superman was in the Justice League.
It wasn't new information to you.
You heard about it from practically everywhere.
The news, your family, and newspapers. It was no surprise.
But seeing the man you idolized for years, literally since you were a kid, in person? You couldn't help but be starstruck.
He waved to you, and you waved back, mouth slightly agape.
He sat down next to you and put his hand out for you to shake it.
Despite you wearing a mask that covered your entire face, he could've sworn you had stars in your eyes.
You quickly shook his hand, your sudden enthusiasm a stark difference from the hesitance you had just a moment ago.
"Oh my gosh, I'm such a big fan! Like, the biggest. It's so exciting to meet you!"
You started rambling, not noticing the amused stares from the others.
In this moment you weren't 16-year-old Aranea, who felt like the world was a burden on her shoulders; you were a 6-year-old who watched Superman saving others on TV when she could.
You were 6 years old and defending Superman against kids your age and adults who insulted his actions.
You were a little kid running around with a Superman cape and wishing you could be older and like Superman.
You were 6 and arguing with Dick over how Superman is cooler than Wonder Woman.
The more you rambled, the more you noticed how Superman wasn't judging you like others had done.
After a minute or two of your ramblings, you took a look around you and saw everyone else staring.
You quickly stopped, dropping the hand you were shaking for a while.
You quickly covered your mouth, noticing you had dropped your act of being quiet and careful.
Most of all, you hadn't noticed how your voice went back to normal instead of the slight change you had done.
"...I spoke too much, didn't I?" You covered your face in embarrassment, despite wearing a mask.
"No, it's fine! I'm used to it." Superman patted your head as an attempt to calm you down, which only made you feel worse.
Wonder Woman cleared her throat, which made you sit up and focus.
"Alright, Aranea. You may be wondering why we invited you here."
You sat up. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Well, Batman informed us that you knew something about the strange wormholes that keep popping up, along with strange variations of villains."
You shuddered as you remembered the time there were two green goblins working together.
The mess that day was crazy.
You spoke up.
"Yes, they're from other universes. They're called anomalies."
"Do you have any idea on how we can stop them?"
"Not really, I didn't pay much attention when Mi—" you stopped yourself, realizing you almost said Miguel's name. "...A Spider-Man from a different universe explained it."
"You should've paid attention," Bruce grumbled.
"No shit, Sherlock," you growled back.
"If you did, we would already be done with this." He took a sip of his coffee (where'd he get that from?).
"I was a kid!" you argued defensively.
"So were all the robins, and they all paid attention."
"Yeah, with training all their lives! I was brand new to being a vigilante!" you argued, voice cracking a bit.
An uncomfortable silence took over the room.
Suddenly you weren't so happy about the fact Superman was rubbing circles on your back to calm you down.
Green Lantern spoke up. "How about a 5-minute break?"
"Fine by me." You got ready to leave, only for Bruce to speak up yet again.
"You're acting like a child." A tense moment of silence passed before you spoke again.
"...I shouldn't even be here, should I? Aren't I too young? Didn't you guys kick out Shazam for that?"
They froze up as if they were caught doing something bad.
"How do you know about that?"
"That's classified," you said, your tone so cold it threw everyone off guard.
Before they could demand an answer from you, you left.
The truth is, you found out about it through Dick telling Tim and you eavesdropping out of boredom and curiosity.
It's kind of hard not to pay attention when everyone spoke so loudly to fill the void that was your absence—by the time you had come back, they had started speaking among themselves.
It was mostly them talking about ways to talk to you.
You were a defensive wall with your guard up.
That's how they perceived you, anyway.
"Bruce, how did you even find her?"
"That's classified." You started entering the area through the window as quietly as you could.
It was times like this you wished you had miles of invisibility.
The only reason you got caught being secretive was because you dropped a bag of chips you had gotten from a corner store nearby.
Everyone turned around to see you sitting upside down, almost like a bat.
You sheepishly got down from the ceiling, feeling everyone's eyes on you.
Hal chuckled at the similarity between you and Bruce.
"Y'know, you guys are so similar. Are you sure you aren't related?" Hal joked.
You tried not to roll your eyes at that. "Definitely not. What do I look like? A nepo baby?"
That earned you a few chuckles from others in the room (and a stone-cold face from Bruce), so you called that a win.
Once you all settled down, you sat down again.
Bruce was next to you again, but you wouldn't look him in the eyes.
You couldn't if you tried, anyway.
After everyone sat back down, Wonder woman speaks again.
"We have suspicions the Joker is planning something with them."
"With who?" you ask.
"The anomalies we had mentioned earlier, or at least with someone who is in control of them."
You couldn't think of a possible cause of the problem.
When anomalies escape, they are usually dazed and confused.
You would be too if you were dragged into another universe that was different from yours.
Anomalies don't choose where they go.
Your heart dropped when you thought of something that could be the root of the problem.
The Spot.
You were trying to deny what you could. It couldn't be The Spot; it just couldn't! He was being held captive in a force field.
He's been trapped for a year or two now. How could he leave?
Miles escaped that one time, but that was because of his powers.
How could the spot escape? You felt yourself trembling and the world spinning.
As your breathing sped up, Superman added onto what wonder woman said.
"Dark spots have been spotted everywhere."
You tried to hide your fear behind your felt mask.
It must've worked because all you got was a concerned glance from Bruce.
"Along with the suspicious spots, they've been mostly spotted in areas the Joker had freshly left. There's not much proof, but there's something going on. I just can't prove it."
Out of instinct, you reached for your watch under the table.
You would've immediately contacted Miguel to ask about what has been going on or if the spot really had escaped.
However, you didn't want to explain to everyone what the watch was used for.
Especially since if you did, your voice would shake out of nervousness.
You would have to wait until the meeting was over.
☆☆☆☆
The meeting was finally over.
It took over 3 hours, and it was now late out.
You had tried to pay attention, but they moved on from the Joker teaming up with anomalies quickly.
They moved from one topic to the next, and you had spent the whole meeting thinking about how the spot could be connected.
As soon as you got to the manor, you ran past your siblings and made your way to your room.
Everyone looked at you confused, and a couple called out to you, but you didn't notice or care.
Once you got in, you locked the door and ran a hand through your face.
You changed out of your suit and into something more comfortable.
Once you were changed out of the suit, you sat down at your computer chair, pulled out your watch, and called Miguel.
You called him once.
Then twice.
Then three times.
No response.
You try going to sleep and instead contact him in the morning.
However, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't.
Your anxiety over this was leaving your tired body restless.
It wasn't until what felt like hours that you finally fell asleep.
Unfortunately, Miguel called you around 15 minutes after you fell asleep.
"I saw you called 3 times," He grumbled.
"I did. Why didn't you pick up?" You spoke halfheartedly.
"Different universes have different time zones, remember?"
"Oh, right. I'm sorry for waking you up."
"It's alright, mija. What did you need?"
"Do you know if the spot could've escaped?"
You heard a rustling in the background of the call. almost as if he could be sitting up in concern.
"Why do you ask?"
"I was at a meeting with the league. We have suspicions that the Joker is attempting to team up with the Spot."
You spoke, your voice almost trembling.
A moment of silence takes over; you can tell he's either confused or thinking.
Maybe both.
"I can check the cameras. I'll let you know if I find anything. Go to sleep."
"Alright, Dad, goodnight."
"Goodnight, mija." The call ends, and you fall back asleep.
☆☆☆☆
You woke up and hoped that you would check your notifications and have an update that you were wrong and that you didn't have to worry about anything.
Unfortunately, luck wasn't on your side that morning, or ever.
You woke up to a notification from the work group chat.
One that was placed by Miguel.
It said, "Attention, everybody. Spot has escaped, and we don't know for how long he has been free or how he escaped.
If you have any questions, concerns, or know any information, feel free to contact us. Be on the lookout for Spot."
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒… Two months of sleepless nights, spit-up, crying and zero sex. You and Miguel are running on caffeine, love, and pent-up sexual frustration… until Peter B. and MJ show up to babysit. When you and Miguel are given two hours to be alone, that’s all you need to break the dry spell in your marriage.
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓… Explicit! Mature audiences only! ᝰ porn w/ plot, fem!reader, domestic, mom!reader and dad!Miguel, first-time parents, grumpy!Miguel, Spiderman!Miguel, established relationship [marriage]; rough sex [backshots & p in v], oral sex [fem!receiving], allusions to blowjob, allusions to shower sex, implied lactation kink, hair pulling, cum eating, choking, tit play, multiple orgasms, squirting…
𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍… 5.5k words
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑… Day One of Kinktober is posted! This was such a fun and smutty fic to write for Miguel. Writing domestic/dilf!Miguel is one of my favorite versions of him to write! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!
𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒… event m.list・main m.list・event taglist
It starts like every other day. You’re half-asleep on the couch, nursing your three-month old baby for the second time this morning, one breast sore, while the other leaks through your shirt. Miguel’s pacing in the kitchen, cradling a lukewarm mug of coffee and muttering something in Spanish under his breath as he walks over and sits down next to you, rubbing slow circles into your hip.
His hands have been creeping lower for days now; palming your ass when you pass each other in the hallway, trailing his fingers up your thigh when you collapse into bed beside him, even the simple act of pulling you by the hip so he can be closer to you.
For weeks he's been walking around stiff and grumpy, whispering things like, “I don’t even remember what your pussy feels like,” while glaring at the baby monitor like it’s cursed.
You get it. You’re just as frustrated. Every time you try to get close, to rekindle your fire, it’s like she knows. She’s hungry the moment Miguel’s tongue is in your mouth.
She’s crying in her crib the second he palms your breast with that growl in his throat. Any time you two attempt to initiate something it feels like she’s purposely needing you and Miguel’s attention.
It’s been almost two months now since you had full-on sex. That time on the couch during her nap, humping like horny teenagers? That doesn’t count. Especially not when your neighbor fired up the lawnmower mid-thrust and woke her up.
Or when she was having some tummy time, entertaining herself with her toys, Miguel was two seconds away from swiping his tongue across your sex but before he could, she started crying.
You and Miguel have officially made it to the “Dry Spell” part of your relationship, something neither of you thought you’d ever experience. Not after years of being practically inseparable, not after all those late nights when you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.
Your marriage is experiencing the kind of drought that makes you both restless. Touch-starved. So desperate that the smallest things feel like forms of foreplay: his hand brushing the small of your back when he passes by, your bare legs tangling under the blanket at night, the way he sighs when he sees you nursing, nipples sensitive and soft in your palm, wishing his lips were wrapped around them.
Despite your home being filled with sexual tension, Miguel makes sure your taking care of. He makes sure you eat before he does, runs to the store in the middle of the night for diaper when you run out, holds the baby against his chest and hums softly when you’re too tired to move.
It’s the smallest things that make your heart melt, like when he whispers “descansa, mami” [rest, mommy] while you drift off, his hand brushing yours as you trade the baby between shifts.
Even though you’re both running on maybe three hours of sleep, he still finds the energy to press his lips to your temple every morning before muttering about needing coffee.
You love that about him, how he always makes time for you. But love doesn’t do much to soothe the ache that’s been building between you both, a quiet frustration that grows heavier with every missed chance.
At this point you feel like your going to die from blue ovaries if you don’t get Miguel’s cock shoved inside you until you're seeing stars. No matter how many times you and Miguel try to carve out “adult time” during the day, something always comes up and squashes your plans.
Once you finish breastfeeding, you shift baby girl in your arms, gently wiping the milk from the corner of her mouth before putting her over your shoulder and patting her back, waiting for that small burp that signals a few minutes of peace. Miguel’s staring down into his mug of coffee, feeling himself about to dose off.
He’s been running on fumes for days now: dark circles under his eyes, hair sticking up like he’s been through a wind tunnel, and that permanent grumpy frown that’s become his new expression. You hear him mutter something low in Spanish under his breath, the words slipping out like a prayer or a warning, before he takes another sip, looking over at you and the baby, the two people that bring him the most happiness in life.
When your about to ask Miguel what he wants for breakfast, the doorbell rings. You both freeze, exchanging wary looks. It’s too early for visitors and you aren’t in the mood to entertain anyone. For a second, you wonder if it’s someone selling something, and you swear you’ll cry if it means you have to put on real clothes.
Miguel sets down his mug with a heavy sigh and goes to answer, ready to tell whoever it is at the door to go away. When he opens the door, his tired confusion turns into mild disbelief. Standing there are your closest friends, Peter B. Parker and MJ with their daughter Mayday perched happily on Peter’s shoulders, babbling to herself like the picture of toddler joy. Peter raises a hand, gesturing to the treats he’s holding. “We come bearing donuts and moral support.”
You manage a laugh, the sound more like a squeak, before walking over to greet them, still cradling the baby in one arm and a burp rag in the other. You’re sure you look like you’ve been through war; mascara from three days ago smudged under your eyes, bags underneath your eyes to represent how tired you are, and shirt spotted with milk from your leaking nipples.
MJ takes one look at you and her expression softens, knowing that new mom exhaustedness all too well. “Oh, honey,” she says gently, “you haven’t slept in days, have you?” You open your mouth to answer, but only a tired sigh escapes, answering MJ’s question for you. You just nod, the motion small and slow, as if even that takes effort.
Her gaze shifts to Miguel, who’s standing beside you now; shirtless, unshaven, looking like the personification of ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee.’ He squints at the sunlight coming through the window like it’s personally offended him.
MJ huffs a soft laugh, remembering when Peter B. used to wear that same look after many sleepless nights and no physical contact. “And you look like you’re five seconds away from exploding.”
“Damn sure feels like it,” Miguel mutters, rubbing a hand down his face before stepping aside and motioning for them to come in. They enter your home, the familiar squeak of the front door echoing through the living room, the same one that always wakes the baby. Your heart stops for a moment, waiting for the inevitable wail, but miraculously, she stays calm. Her tiny hand grips your shirt, eyelids fluttering sleepily.
Peter smiles, his voice soft, looking down at your daughter, remembering when Mayday was that small. “Guess she’s giving you a break today, huh?”
You give him a look that’s half a laugh, half disbelief, surprised she isn’t crying. “Don’t jinx it.”
Peter glances between the two of you: your stained clothes, Miguel’s death glare aimed at the baby monitor like it wronged his bloodline, before setting Mayday down on her feet, allowing her to roam. The toddler immediately starts climbing the walls of your home, her curly hair bouncing with every step. But none of you try to stop her, since your home is fully spider-baby proof since you have a hybrid baby of your own.
“We came to make an offer,” Peter says, placing the box of donuts on the counter before clapping his hands together once, like he’s unveiling a business deal. “Free babysitting. Right now. One hour. Two if she sleeps through it.”
You blink at him. Your body twitches with hope, but your brain refuses to believe that you’re actually about to get a break to just relax. “We’ve been there. The no-sleep, no-sex, no-time-to-shower hellscape. You both look like you’re on the brink of snapping. So we’re here to help.” MJ says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder while giving you a warm, epathetic smile.
Miguel slowly turns his head toward her, his hair a mess and his eyes bloodshot from staying up all last night with your baby girl who screamed her lungs out, wanting to give you a chance to get some quality sleep. “You're serious?”
“As a diaper blowout,” Peter says, already moving to take the baby from your arms. She whines softly in protest, face scrunching, but MJ swoops in, offering a pacifier from the diaper bag on the floor that you keep stocked at all times before a full cry can form.
You and Miguel just stand there for a moment, frozen, not knowing whether to scream for joy or just pass out from exhaustion. Miguel looks over at you, slipping his hand into yours, squeezing it firmly, helping you snap out of your daze. “Did he just say we have an hour?”
“I think so,” you whisper back, trying to still wrap your head around the gracious offer.
“Like, sixty full minutes? Without interruptions? No baby? No neighbor mowing the damn lawn?” Miguel asks, rolling his eyes at the thought of being interrupted for the hundredth time.
You nod slowly, looking at how your daughter is content in Peter’s arms, making you sigh in relief that she’s doing good with him, knowing how fussy she can get. “It’s a miracle.”
Peter walks over and settles onto the couch with your baby nestled easily into the crook of his arm, happily sucking on the pacifier, allowing her to stay occupied and content. “Go,” he says, shooing you and Miguel away, wanting you to take full advantage of him and MJ’s offer. “Before she realizes you're gone.”
Hearing that gives you and your husband a newfound burst of energy. Miguel doesn’t need to hear another word of what Peter has to say. While your in the middle of thanking your friends for their thoughtful offer for babysitting, he immediately drags you up the stairs and towards your bedroom, his grip on your wrist firm but not painful, acting as a silent warning of what’s to come once your within the confinement of your bedroom.
His long strides make it hard for you to keep up, your heart pounding not just from the rush but from the look in his eyes: dark, hungry, and fixed solely on you. Each step makes your pulse hammer faster, the air between you charged with a hungry tension. His hand slides from your wrist to the small of your back, pushing you forward as if he can’t get you there fast enough.
The second you two are in the room, he kicks the door shut behind him. There’s no hesitation, no pause for words, just the sound of his breath as he backs you against the wall and his hands cusping your face before his mouth crashes onto yours.
The kiss is rough, almost desperate, and it steals every bit of air from your lungs. His fangs scrape lightly against your bottom lip, enough to make you gasp, and he takes the opportunity to deepen it, his tongue sliding against yours with heated insistence.
When you try to speak, he shakes his head against your mouth, murmuring in that low, gravelly voice, “No talking, mamì. Not yet.” As much as Miguel loves to hear your sweet voice, he needs to dive between the sweetness of your thighs before he can hold a conversation. His hands move down, gripping your thighs hard enough to make you shiver, and then he lifts you effortlessly.
You hook your legs around his waist, feeling the solid heat of him pressed right between your thighs. He carries you to the bed like you weigh nothing, dropping you down onto the mattress with a bounce before climbing over you, caging you in with his muscular frame.
His intoxicating scent surrounds you: warm, masculine, and faintly musky, while his gaze never leaves your face as his fingers find the hem of your shirt, pushing up the cotton material to quickly to reveal one of his favorite parts of your body, while savoring every inch of skin he uncovers.
Miguel’s breath hitches when your breasts spill free from their restraints, soft and swollen from feeding, nipples already peaked. He’s already turned on simply from the sight of you but when he sees small beads of your breastmilk cascading down your areola, his pupils dilate and hunger becomes written all over his face.
He palms one gently, thumb stroking over the tender bud, while his mouth descends on the other, hot and wet, his tongue circling before he sucks hard enough to make you arch off the bed, and allow your breastmilk to settle on his tastebuds.
“Miguel—” you whine out of pleasure, not expecting that from him but you definitely aren’t fighting it, if anything you want to encourage it. You wrap your hand around him and place it on the base of his neck, keeping him buried in the valley of your breasts.
Soon, Miguel starts desperately humping you like a dog, needing to create some sort of friction to soothe the erection in his pants. The harder he sucks your nipple, the harder his thrusts become. Seeing him act so wild and erratic, like his body will die if he doesn’t get an opportunity to to spill his seed inside you, creates a puddle of slick in your underwear.
Miguel shifts his attention and trails a slow path of kisses down your stomach, his fangs lightly grazing your skin when his tongue presses against you, making you jolt with each scrape. When he reaches the waistband of your shorts, he hooks his fingers in and tugs them down, underwear and all, leaving you bare beneath him.
He pauses for just a moment, eyes dark and fixed between your thighs, before he spreads you open with his hands. His mouth is still wet from your breastmilk, droplets of it still dripping from his lips. Miguel doesn’t wipe it away, he wants it there. By the time he’s done caressing your body he wants a variety of your juices on his face, not just your milk.
You’re already wet, painfully throbbing from many weeks of frustration. When his mouth finally makes contact with your pussy, and the tip of his tongue swirls around your clit, you immediately let out a loud gasp. His tongue is everywhere at once. He presses broad licks against your folds, teasing flicks against your clit, and gives long strokes that make your legs tremble.
He groans into you, the vibration making your hips jerk while you fist the sheets. You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, knowing that Peter and MJ are downstairs but with Miguel eating you out this good it’s hard to not be vocal. “Miguel, we have to be—”
“They’ll be fine,” he mutters into your cunt before sucking your clit between his lips, hard, pulling a sharp cry out of you right away. If it’s not clear already, Miguel doesn’t give a fuck about who can hear him. His main focus is his wife and making sure you cum at least three times today.
He tightens his grip on your thighs, pushing your legs upward and pinning you open while he devours you like a starving man, tongue thrusting into your sopping hole at a rapid pace, his nose nudging your clit until you’re writhing, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes from sheer pleasure.
With your body still being sensitive from the baby, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to crash over you, allowing weeks of pent-up tension to break all at once. You clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle the scream, body shaking under his hold. Miguel doesn’t stop his movements, he only groans into your core while lapping up everything your body gives him until you’re twitching from overstimulation.
Once you come down from your high, Miguel comes up for air and towers his large physique over your body, leaning in and kissing you deeply so you’ll be able to taste yourself. Tasting your own sweetness on his tongue, makes you moan into his mouth.
Miguel’s cock is thick and hard against your stomach, straining inside his sweats, begging to be released and buried inside your wetness. His lips make his way to your ear, practically kissing your earlobe, causing his husky voice to flood your ear canal. “You ready for me, mi vida [my life]? Because once I’m in you, I’m not stopping.”
You cup his jaw, running your thumb over the stubble he’s allowed to grow out, not having a chance to shave it while trying to help you take care of household responsibilities and the baby. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper, voice softly breaking as the words leave your lips, wanting nothing more than feel the delicious stretch of his cock filling your walls.
Something in Miguel’s eyes softens when he hears that. His eyes are still dark with need, but now there’s a tint of tenderness that makes your heart lurch. He kisses you again, slower this time, pouring everything into it: weeks of longing, sleepless nights, and a fierce love that never leaves, even when exhaustion and frustration does its best to tear at the seams.
After the kiss it isn’t long before Miguel is barking out orders, not only telling, but demanding you to get into position. “Turn around.” He says, voice ragged, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants. “Face down, ass up.” Miguel pulls down his sweatpants with a harsh tug, then his boxers, and once of the cotton material his cock springs free. It’s veiny, thick, and so heavy it hangs alongside his thigh, small beads of pre-cum oozing from his tip.
You obey instantly, turning onto your stomach and placing a deep arch in your back, making sure your ass is positioned perfectly just the way he likes. When you feel his hands roughly grip your hips, you brace yourself on shaky elbows as he positions himself behind you, lining himself with your entrance.
When Miguel gets this way, sex-deprived and needy, you don’t ever question him, because you love this side of him. When he gets all rough and just throws you around like a ragdoll, filling your ears with filthy words and stuffing you with his cock until you cry from being overstimulated. Times like this are the reason you have a baby in the first place.
The stretch when he pushes inside your spongy walls makes your eyes roll to the back of your bed. You’ve been dying to feel the delicious sensation of your husband’s cock filling your pussy until he bottoms out. “God—yes—I missed this, missed you.” You groan, trying to get adjusted to Miguel’s inhuman size. His spider DNA blessed him in many ways and his cock was one of them. All ten and a half inches of cock forces his way inside your sex, Miguel’s length filling you so perfectly that you let out moan, followed by a harsh “fuck…”.
Your husband wraps his arms around your body and pulls you close to him, forcing his full length inside you while wrapping his hand to your throat. Once your body acclimated with his monster size, Miguel starts with a slow tempo before steadily increasing his speed, your ass flush against his pelvis while your breasts freely moving with the rhythm of his thrusts, and his cock reaching the depths of your cunt until it probs the opening of your womb.
Miguel’s thrusts are harsh and unforgiving. He’s using your own body as leverage to dig you out, chasing his high while making sure you reach maximum pleasure. With the position you're in, it allows Miguel to reach the depths of your cervix, allowing him to repeatedly pound into your wetness until you snap.
The rougher his thrusts get, the louder your moans become. You’re trying so hard to stay silent but it’s hard when your husband is literally rearranging your insides. Miguel’s hand comes up to your mouth, uses his palm as a shield to muffle your sweet sounds so they can’t travel downstairs. “Gotta keep you quiet, cariño [sweetheart]. Can’t let Peter and MJ hear those pretty moans.”
All you can do as a response is moan even louder while throwing your ass back against him, making him let out a sharp groan, one that he’s sure could’ve been heard from downstairs but he really doesn’t care, as long as they don’t hear you.
This goes on for minutes, the spicy tango between two people who are completely enthralled with one another, you and him releasing all of the pent up sexual energy while finding your way back to each at the same time outside of being parents.
The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, rhythmic and desperate while you and him chase the euphoric high that flows through your body when you cum. His pace and thrusts are so relentless that you begin to try and run from him, not being able to take the overwhelming pleasure flowing through your veins.
When Miguel notices you trying to escape his relentless thoughts, he laughs, thinking it’s funny that you think he’s gonna let you run from his dick. “No, baby…” he mutters, wrapping your hair around his hand until he gets a good grip, allowing him to pull it just enough to keep you in place without causing you any pain. “You're gonna take this dick like a good girl.” With Miguel pulling your body close to him, your both upright, your back against his chest, your breasts bouncing up and down, and the tip of his cock pushing directly against your g-spot.
Watching you attempt to run only adds fire to Miguel’s lust. It just makes him thrust harder, dig deeper inside your walls, silently begging for that coil inside you to snap. Your moans grow more wild and carefree as tears pool in your eyes from how good it feels after going so long without. “Mig—fuck— I- I- can’t –ugh– take it, please!” You whine, blindly putting your hand behind you, placing your palm against Miguel’s pelvis as a sign of surrender, wanting him to slow down a bit before you pass out.
Miguel knows you can take it, you’ve been doing it for years. He knows that your body just needs some help remembering how to take his girthy cock. “Yes, you can. I know you can take it. Don’t get all shy on me now.” Your husband grabs at your arm, getting a nice hold on your forearm and now using this position to give him more leverage and control with his strokes.
With your head and arm being pulled back, Miguel’s cock continuously reaches the soft part of your pussy, and his filthy groans and dirty compliments, all lead to your second orgasm to build much quicker than the last, allowing it to sneak up on you.
Your walls clench around him so hard he hisses like he’s in pain, when he’s really just overwhelmed by the feeling your pussy provides. “Shit—shit—I’m gonna cum—fuck!—” You spew out curses a mile a minute, digging your free hand into the scrunched up blanket beneath you, feeling your mind become fuzzy as your eyes roll to back of head.
Your body trembles, legs quiver, you would’ve probably collapsed if Miguel wasn’t holding your body in position. You aren’t able to control the sounds or fluids that come from your body next. Your creamy fluids coat Miguel’s shaft while your juices spray against the sheets, and a little splashing on his chiseled thighs.
While your pussy clenches around Miguel’s cock like a vice, trapping him inside your velvety walls, he can feel his abs tense, his balls tighten, and a flutter in his lower stomach. He continues his thrusts inside your warmth, tightening his grip on your hair and arm when he feels himself about to release.
Miguel sharp fangs coming out again when he spills inside you with a sharp gasp, hips stuttering, cock twitching as he fucks you through his nut and your orgasm. His warm seed flows through your pussy, filling your canal to the brim until it overflows, dripping out of you and onto the bed beneath you.
Your husband's beautiful moans hit your ears while he cums, making that flutter in your stomach grow as he continues fucking you. You love how vocal he is, how he isn’t scared to hold back in any capacity.
You and Miguel ride through your euphoric highs, allowing the endorphins to flood your senses, your bodies slapping together until you and him have had enough. Moments later, Miguel loosens his grip on you, pulling out of your wetness, and once your bodies are no longer together as one, your body slumps onto the mattress.
You turn yourself over on your back, looking up at your husband who’s towering over you, completely covering you with his long shadow. The two of you are breathing hard with smiles on your faces, happy that you were finally able to have sex after being deprived of the luxury.
“I think I blacked out for a sec,” you whisper, your voice still shaky with leftover adrenaline. Your body feels like it’s floating, all loose and warm, muscles humming with that dizzy sort of high that comes after one glass too many of wine. Every inch of you feels alive, thrumming with relief and the faint ache of finally being able to indulge in the martial act.
Miguel leans over, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before placing another on your collarbone. His breath is still a little uneven, his body warm and heavy beside you. For the first time in weeks, there’s no tension in his voice when he speaks, that grumpy expression on his face has disappeared.
Miguel chuckles low in his throat, still catching his breath as he looks down at you. His hair is a wild mess from when your hands were running through it, his body glistening with sweat, and there’s a boyish glint in his tired eyes you haven’t seen in a while. “I thought I broke you.”
You laugh, the sound weak but genuine, and he grins at the sight. His thumb traces lazy circles along your skin, his tone warm and teasing, loving how after all these years he can still wear you out. “Guess we still got it, huh?”
You nod, still dizzy, feeling like your legs are turning to mush. “Of course, we do.”
Before Miguel can respond, a burst of static crackles through the baby monitor on the nightstand, making both of you jump. You turn your heads at the same time, eyes snapping toward the little screen, wanting to make sure your baby girl is doing good under the care of your friends. A second later, Peter B’s voice comes through, cheerful as usual. “She’s smiling! Look at that—MJ, did you see that? She’s all gums!”
MJ laughs in the background, her voice soft and amused, shaking her head at her husband. “She’s probably just gassy, Pete.”
“Still counts!” Peter insists, clearly delighted at your daughter's gummy little smile. The sound of Mayday giggling joins in as she climbs her mother, a happy little chaos that fills the monitor with warmth instead of worry.
You and Miguel both stare for a moment, watching your baby girl as she lies on her back, kicking her tiny feet while Peter makes silly faces beside her. MJ sits nearby, watching the babies with that calm, maternal look that makes everything feel safe, allowing you and Miguel’s worry to evaporate knowing your baby girl is in good hands.
Miguel lets out a deep breath, his body relaxing against yours. “She’s good,” he murmurs, almost in disbelief that your daughter is happy and smiley, instead of being in one of her cranky and crying fits. “She’s… really good.”
You smile softly, feeling your heart swell as you watch the scene unfold, loving the adorable expression on her precious little face. “She’s perfect,”
Miguel hums, his gaze shifting back down to you. A spark returns in his eyes, that teasing glint that always comes right before he does something reckless. “You know,” his voice drops to a low murmur, brushing his lips against your jaw. “Peter and MJ look… busy.”
You glance at the monitor again, seeing that Peter is now pretending to juggle baby toys while Mayday claps in the background, then you look back at Miguel, already seeing the thought that’s forming in his head.
“Miguel…” you start, giving him a warning tone but the smirk curling at your lips tells him that you want him to act out whatever dirty thought that’s forming in his mind.
He smiles softly, that sharp, boyish grin that melts every ounce of resistance in you every time he flashes it your way. “We said we’d take advantage of the time, didn’t we?”
Before you can argue, his arms slides under you, wrapping around your body, and lifting you with effortless strength. When you feel his palms wrap around your thighs, pulling you against his chest, you yelp softly, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck, causing your breasts to press against him. “Miguel!”
He chuckles, already carrying you toward the bathroom, his bare feet walking against the cool tile floor. “You ready for round two?” he asks, pushing the door open with his shoulder. Steam from the earlier shower still lingers in the air, the scent of soap and his cologne flooding your senses, making things feel more intimate than before.
You grin up at him, heartbeat still fluttering from everything that’s happened and the anticipation building for what’s to come. “More than ready,” Miguel’s eyes flicker with amusement as he sets you down gently, one hand lingering at your waist even as he reaches to turn on the shower.
The water hums to life, filling the room with the soft rush of sound and a cloud of steam that wraps around you both. You finish your sentence with a teasing smile, running your hand down his happy trail and palming his cock that’s still wet with your slick. “As long as I get to go first.”
He arches a brow, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips as he bites back a moan, enjoying this side of you. “Oh, so now you’re calling the shots?”
“Somebody has to,” you tease back, rising on your toes to press a kiss to his mouth. The kiss is slower this time, less frantic than before but somehow more lustful, especially when Miguel slips his tongue in your mouth, amplifying the lingering sexual affection that says more than words ever could.
When you pull away, his hand slides to the back of your neck, thumb tracing small, absent circles against your skin. While you place your pointer and index finger in your mouth, tasting the mixture of his cum and your cream on your tongue, making Miguel bite his lip, wondering how he was able to find a woman who can match his freak in every way possible.
The shower fills the room with a gentle hiss, droplets dotting Miguel’s shoulders as he steps inside the marble tile shower before reaching his out a hand to you. “Come on,” he murmurs, voice soft but full of lust, feeling his cock harden at the sight of his cum smeared on your lips. “Let’s wash the morning off, mi vida.”
You step in beside him, the water instantly soothing against your skin. Once your inside and both of your bodies are wet, Miguel stands in front of the shower head, allowing the water to splash against his back, not wanting the water to reach you because he knows you don’t want to get your hair wet since you don’t have it wrapped up.
Once your feet are grounded against the shower floor, you kneel down in front of your husband, gripping onto his thighs to help stabilize yourself. Once your eye level with his lengthy cock, watching how the veins along his shaft throb, causing your mouth to water, wanting nothing more than to feel his girth stretch your pretty mouth so wide that you choke.
You dig your hand into Miguel’s thigh while you use the other to stroke his cock, giving him a few good pumps before twirling your wet tongue against his prominent veins, all the way up to his aching tip that’s begging to hit the back of your throat.
While teasing your husband’s cock, you look up at him, eyes filled with nothing but love and lust, enjoying the screwed expression on his face, knowing that by the time your done you’ll either have his seed deep inside your throat or painted on your face and you’re honestly happy with either outcome.
Before twelve o’clock, you and Miguel will be on round three, your back pressed against the shower while his cock presses against the opening of your womb, attempting to put another baby inside you.
Hopefully Peter and MJ can’t hear you and Miguel acting like a couple of horny teenagers because things are to the point where neither of you care if they can hear your moans or skin slapping together.
The only things that you and Miguel care about is making the other person cum until the image of your naked bodies are burned into each other’s mind.
Now that the Dry Spell has been lifted, you and Miguel can now walk around with a smile on your faces.
