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spiderlyla · 3 months

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amable [gentle] (fem!reader × Miguel O'Hara):

cw: oral sex (f!receiving), praising kink, hair-pulling (miguel loves getting his hair pulled), make-up sex, overstimulation, p in v.

you can't for the life of you remember what made you so mad. all you remember is that you had a shitty fucking day. the entire day was nothing but a series of unfortunate events stringed together one after the other. first, on your walk to work, you were splashed with water from a speeding car that had stepped into a puddle, that you had to walk back home for a quick shower and a change of clothes.

you were obviously reprimanded by your boss for being late, and if that wasn't annoying enough, he had you re-do work for a colleague that had slacked off and then went on a vacation before anyone could revise what he'd done thoroughly. you were stuck almost all day in the office, bickering with men who wouldn't listen and doing work that wasn't yours. then just when you let your guard down as you were going home, one of your (extremly insistent) male co-workers offered to walk you.

he was so talkative, and so awfully flirty that he kept hitting on you all the way home. it is safe to say you were never this glad to see your apartment building before. all you wanted now was a nice hot meal and some peace and queit. that was apparently too much to ask for. your boyfriend came home a little early, bubbling with anger. it was evident on his features, his furrowed thick brows, his narrowed crimson eyes, the scowl on his lips.

"Why didn't you call me to come get you?" He shut the balcony door behind him, his spider-suit glitching, getting replaced by his regular attire, consisting of a black button up shirt and dress pants. "What are you talking about?"

"He walked you, ese idiota. What was it?Frank? Fred?" He made his way to where you were in the kitchen, you could see how angry he truly was, his fangs protruding just in the slightest, any hints of brown in his eyes completely taken over by the crimson swirling in them. "Fred, yeah. I told him no, mig, but he was really nagging me and I was already having a shit day, I didn't have the energy to tell him off."

"I could've come and get you myself. Why didn't you call me?" You were starting to get upset, you couldn't really handle any of this right now. "Because you were probably busy, Miguel. You always are, I don't call you because you're probably off saving some other universe that walking me home has got to be the last thing on the list of your worries." You brush past him, and follows you, face contorting with all sorts of emotions. "Aye, carino, you know I would've dropped it all if I knew that that pelotudo was gonna be with you."

"Oh, so there has to be another guy in the equation for you to pick me up? That's the only time it's valid to call you?"

Miguel frowns, confusion settling in as you try to avoid his touch everytime he tried to pull you towards him. "That's not what I meant." His eyes softened as he realised how stressed out and bothered you look, concern washing over his features. "¿Estás bien, amor? Te ves realmente—" [Are you okay, love? You look really—]

"Fuck—no, Miguel, I'm not okay!" You snap, frowning up at him. "I'm having a really shitty day, and I just—I need to be alone, okay?" He takes a step back, his surprised expression faltering to a neutral pokerface. "Yeah, okay." Your heart clenchs all of a sudden as you watch him walk away, and press a few icons on his gizmo, but to your utter surprise, a portal doesn't appear, his clothes change to a much more comfortable fit of a pair of sweatpants and a black shirt. He walks off to his office, leaving you all alone in the living room.

You know it's not fair, snapping at him like this just because you had a bad day. You spend the next hour eating in silence, then as soon as your done, you make your way to the office. Hesitantly, you knock, and you hear Miguel beckoning you to come in.

He is sitting at his desk, monitor screens floating all around him, their orange hue filling the entire room. He looks up at you through the frames of his glasses, setting down the file in his hand when you approach him. Awkwardly, you stand infront of him with your hands infront of you, much like a child who's gotten into trouble and is too sheepish to admit it. He stands up, and suddenly you fling yourself at him, arms wrapping around his waist in a firm grip.

He lets out a slight chuckle, and pulls you into his chest, like he'd expected this to happen. You look up at him, the stress of the entire day and the guilt you felt from snapping at your boyfriend accumulating into tears brimming in your eyes. " 'm sorry, Migs, I didn't mean to–"

"Sh, No estoy molesto, nena." [I'm not upset, baby.]

Being in his arms comforts you, the way he envelopes you so fully, how warm he is was enough to calm your fried nerves. Minutes pass and you don't move from his embrace until he does. One hand remains on your waist, while the other one tilts your head up. He stays queit for a moment, then leans down and presses his lips ever so gently to yours. You gasp at the contact, but quickly kiss him back, your hands travelling up his abdomen to rest on his shoulders. A groan erupts out of him, but he doesn't pull away.

The room gets hot, fast, and if he kept kissing you like this, you were sure you were going to melt. "Mig—"

"How about I take your mind off things tonight..." He whispers, calloused hands running up and down your sides, tracing the curves of your ass. "And you make up for the little outburst you had, hm?"

It takes a moment for you to realise he's speaking to you, and you only notice because he stopped kissing you and your lips tingled, longing for the sensation of his mouth against yours. You nod, dazed and hot that you felt like you're catching a fever.

He hums, amused, his lips ghosting over yours just to tease you. Before you know it, you're on your bed, your clothes long discarded somewhere on the other side of the room, with Miguel buried between your legs, mouth latched to your clit, while his hands kept your legs wide open.

"Ah—Mig, please.." Your hands are in his hair. His beautiful, soft, brown locks. Every time you tugged, he'd let out a loud groan, the sound vibrating and coursing through your entire body. Your legs involuntarily kept moving, the intensity too much for you to bear, but Miguel refused to let you close them, keeping them wide open to give him full access. Everytime you start feeling the knot in your stomach unfurl, Miguel moves away and bites your inner thigh, leaving marks that are only for his eyes to see. "What is it, baby?" His smile is wicked, like he knows what he's doing, like he knows exactly when to stop. "Miguel, n-no more, too much.."

He hums, nodding, then moves up, his lips finding yours immediately. Tasting yourself on his tounge was almost enough to bring you over the edge, just almost.

His tip was right at your entrance, and the anticipation made you want to sink lower just for any type of contact. "Miguel, pleasepleaseplease—"

"Shh, be patient, honey. I'm gonna give you everything you want." He peppers kisses all over your face, his heavy body pressing against you. "You still need to 'be alone', nena?" A soft whine escapes your lips, and you shake your head vigriously. "N-No, need y—Need you, Mig, 'm sorry—"

And just with that, he slides in. It's hot, and so, so filling. Your eyes blow wide, and your legs wrap around his abdomen as he sinks deeper and deeper into you. "Fuck, you're so pretty..." He whispers into the nape of your neck, his fingers lacing with yours. He holds your hand as he starts thrusting, trying to keep you grounded.

Your mind becomes hazy, you could only focus on the sound of his voice and the pleasure brimming and coursing through your entire body.

"Que niña tan linda." [Such a pretty girl.]

"Such—" "—a hardworking—" "—little thing."

"Sólo querías que te follara, ¿verdad?" [You just wanted me to fuck you, right?]

"Don't close your eyes, keep them on me."

Your eyes flutter open to see his own maroon ones staring right back at you. The sight of his damp hair, the sweat beads on his forehead made you clench around him, and that was enough for him to pick up the pace just in the slightest.

His pace is steady, rhythmic. He kisses you, again and again and again. You become hyperaware of him holding your hand, and once he squeezed it, you could only see white.

Once you come down from your high, you notice that you're laying on dry sheets, covered in the fluffiest duvet you have. You feel warm, extremly so, and then you realise Miguel was still right next to you, still peppering small kisses up your shoulder blades.

"There you are." He hums quietly once your eyes lock with his, "Think you fell asleep right away, you were mumbling."

"What was I saying?"

He replies in a matter-of-fact way, mouth still hovering over your arm. "My name. Over and over again."

"It's hard to think about anything else but you after that."

"Hm, then I suppose I did a job well done then."

#lumi talks ♟#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #astv #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o hara #spider man atsv

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spiderlyla · 3 months

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HI OMG SO SORRY THAT I HAVE BEEN QUIET FOR SO LONG!! when next week is your birthday if it's okay to ask? 👀

HII NO NEED TO APOLOGISE! My birthday is on Tuesday :)!!

#lumi talks ♟

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spiderlyla · 4 months

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SO EXCITED FOR NEXT WEEK BECAUSE MY BIRTHDAY IS NEXT WEEK

#lumi talks ♟

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spiderlyla · 4 months

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How you feeling today, Lumi? Hope you're having a good day!

Thank you anon! It's finals season and I'm a little sick, but otherwise I'm doing really well for myself! Thanks for checking up!

#lumi talks ♟

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spiderlyla · 4 months

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me when I have to write for the 40 year old man with teenager issues

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spiderlyla · 4 months

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so I have this idea in my head right, how would Miguel would be like after breaking up with reader, but it was his fault. He kept lashing out at them even though they were trying to help, they tried and tried again and again until reader had enough and broke things off, and Miguel is HEARTBROKEN.

But take your time! And have a great day/afternoon/night !!

breaking point

pairing: miguel o’hara x reader

contents: angst

author’s note: you just know the way to my heart w this request anon 😫

word count: 4k

"Los hombres no lloran, Miguel." (men don’t cry)

Conchata had first told these words to him when he fell off his bike around five years old, blood smearing all over his leg. He'd continued to hear those words throughout the course of his life whenever he got hurt, emotionally or physically. As much as the words had engraved into his very being, the only thing that he wanted to do as he stood in front of your door was burst out into tears. The bouquet of flowers he was holding dropped down to the floor, the petals scattering around the concrete. He willed himself to try to move, to get himself to walk away and save whatever bits of pride he had left but he couldn't. All he wanted to do was wait for you to change your mind, tell him that this was all just a cruel joke on your part.

He'd gone over to your house, wearing a button down shirt and his nicest pair of pants while he held the bouquet of roses in his hand, hoping that you'd go out to a dinner with him. He took note of the way that your smile faded away when you opened the door, your arms folded across your chest in a defensive manner. He was met with a "what are you doing here?" instead of the usual kiss and hug he'd grown accustomed to when the two of you started dating. "I thought that maybe you'd like to go out on date. eat some of that spaghetti that you like," he responded, determined to making things between the two of you right.

He'd seen the spark from your eyes slightly dim with every day that passed, until you eventually looked at him with pure exhaustion. The love that you used to share for him completely disappeared, each glance directed towards him begging for a change. Despite the fact that the relationship kept draining every single of drop of your energy, he selfishly wanted to keep you close to him. He realized that the flowers and dinner that he'd offered you weren't enough to make up for the months of pain that he'd caused with his actions, but he held hope that it would be a step towards the right direction. Or at least an excuse for him to talk over with you, explain his reasoning for the way he’d been acting.

"What are you trying to prove with this, Miguel?" You asked him, your figure still blocking the door as the two of you conversed. "I’m not trying to prove anything. I just want to share a dinner with you, te lo suplico," he practically pleaded with you, the action foreign even to himself. He was used to being demanding to get his way, never being the one who was at mercy. "I don't want to have a dinner with you. You'll probably end up having a meltdown that I’m using the salad fork to eat my spaghetti," you remarked, standing out of the way to close the door. He pressed his foot against the door before you had the chance to close it, his brows furrowing through the crack on the door.

"Is it the spaghetti? We can get something else if that's what you want, I just miss spending time with you," he spoke up, holding your gaze through the opening. "You wouldn't miss spending time with me if you hadn't been so busy on pushing me away," your reply came out cold, detached. Part of the reason that he'd asked you out for this spontaneous dinner was that he wanted to make up for it somehow by doing a grand gesture, feeling you slip underneath his fingers with every day that passed. "Please? I won't ask anything more of you than just this date. I'll get down on my knees if you want me to, there's nothing that I wouldn't do for you," he told you, a dry chuckle eliciting from your lips.

"You say that now, but you couldn't even act like a decent boyfriend. You couldn't do the bare minimum and now you think that with some shocking spaghetti date, you're gonna fix the damage that you did to this relationship. I don't want anything to do with you, leave me alone," your annoyance was growing by the second with every word that you uttered, closing the door after he stepped aside. You thought that expelling him out of your life would make you burst out into tears, that it would elicit a feeling of pain deep within inside you. But, you'd spent so much time mourning the loss of the relationship before this moment that it almost didn't feel real.

Going to his home to pick up your things a couple days later filled you with a sense of relief, knowing that nothing was tying you to him anymore. You held a box of the things he'd left at your apartment as well, a couple shirts from when he'd stay the night as well as a couple necessities. You didn't feel anything as you looked down at the stuffed animal he'd gotten you at the beginning of the relationships, back when the dates actually used to be something consistent. It was a bizarre that every memory of the relationship that the two of you held could easily be buried into a box, the contents of it each signifying something different.

You hesitated for a moment before knocking on his door, setting the box on your knee to free up one of your hands. You looked up at Miguel as he opened up the door, a stubble starting to show on his chin as well as the dark circles adorning his under eyes. You'd seen him spend many days awake, never exactly looking the way that he looked now. "We're doing this whole thing?" He asked you, his scratchy voice taking you out of your thoughts as you focused back on the task at hand. "Yeah, I just figured it would be better to get it out the way as soon as possible. Do you mind if I come in?" You responded, trying to ignore the smell of alcohol practically seeping through his pores. It almost made you feel a bit of sympathy, the fact that he was hurting so badly because of you. Almost.

He stepped aside to let you in, a couple papers scattered across the floors as well as an unkempt dinner table. "I'm just gonna go to your room and get my stuff," you muttered, stepping around the room to avoid the pieces of paper scattered around. The last thing you needed was for him to cause a problem over stepping some important paper. You'd stepped into his room, immediately overwhelmed with the memories of your time spent in here. Every single night that the two of you shared together, whether it be something bloomed out of intimacy or simply just comforting one another, ran through you like a tidal wave at all once. This room served as a place where you and Miguel had shared some of your most intimate secrets and moments, so it seemed a bit fitting that this was where it all ended. It took you a couple seconds to get your feet unstuck from the spot you were standing in, walking over to his nightstand to get some of your jewelry.

Miguel hated how you looked so casual while you were picking up the stuff, almost like the action didn't matter to you the same way that it did to him. "Are you sure we can't work out through this? I know we've been doing a little rocky recently but I don't think it's enough for us to end our relationship," he spoke up from his spot on the doorframe, his retinas practically burning from the sunlight coming in through the window. You'd pulled the curtain back to have the natural sunlight guide you through the room while you were picking up your stuff, but he hadn't slept in days. It felt like he was staring into direct sunlight so he pulled out his new best friend, a pair of sunglasses he'd bought last time he went for a beer run. Despite the fact that his body metabolized the alcohol at an accelerated rate than most, he still enjoyed the couple of minutes he felt a buzz.

You turned to look back at him, completely brazen by the way that he was choosing to approach the situation. "We haven't been doing rocky just recently, we've been rocky for a couple months now. And if you're not going to attempt to be better, then what's the whole point?" You responded, putting in the final articles of clothing that belonged to you. "I already told you, I've been stressed out lately. I promise once I'm done with this anomaly case, I’ll be more agreeable to be around," he told you, his heart pounding inside of his chest as you stepped closer to him on your way out. "You've been saying that for the last five months. Being stressed out doesn't give you a free access pass just to be an ass to everyone trying to help you," your words hit him like a dagger, the intensity of the impact increasing as you walked out on him.

The relationship that you'd had with Miguel was good at the beginning, like something told out of a fairytale. You met him one of the missions dealing with a Rhino variant, the mission proving to be more challenging than you'd originally anticipated. You'd called him as a last resort, your suit hanging on by the last thread and web shooters running dangerously low. You were extremely lucky that you were even able to swing far away enough from the anomaly, fingers haphazardly moving across your gizmo to call for backup. He'd appeared next to you, taking a glimpse of your appearance before motioning you to go inside the portal. "I'll take care of this, you're too hurt to continue. I'll send you the report later if that's something you want," he'd told you, analyzing the scene in front of him before jumping into action.

Even though you did want to see the end to this fight, you realized that you might be more of a hindrance than help in the current state you were in. You staggered inside of the portal, getting transported back to HQ in what seemed to be only a matter of seconds. You made your way into the infirmary to get a couple wounds checked out, your accelerated healing slowed by the amount of hits you'd taken throughout the course of the fight. The nurse's precise hands were a nice change of pace from the sloppy work that you were used to doing on yourself, the process of getting the stitches done not being as bad. "If you're still in pain after, just come back and we'll give you something to accelerate that healing of yours. It should be gone in about an hour or so," the nurse told you as she was finished up with your injuries, rinsing her hands in the sink at the back of the room.

You thanked her for the job that she'd done before heading out to the lab in order to make some modifications to your suit. You were looking through the formula of your webbing, trying to pinpoint why exactly it was that you ran out of them so fast. The webs had lasted you long enough when your only job was to protect New York in your dimension but now that you were acting as a multi-dimensional protector of sorts, you'd found yourself to be running out of them much faster than your other counterparts. "What are you doing here this late? Shouldn't you be resting?" You heard from behind you, turning around to be faced with miguel's stoic expression as he walked in through the door. "I'm doing better, I’m just trying to figure something out with my webbing. How'd it go with the rhino?"

"It was fine. You'd done a decent job of beating him up so the task wasn't too difficult to get done," he responded, taking the notebook from you as he read through the components of your writing. You wanted to let out a scoff at how he'd taken it away, but you also knew he could offer a unique perception of the composition given his previous job. You weren't used to depending on much people, the only person that'd been that constant for you being Uncle Ben before his imminent death. You couldn't deny that it did feel like a small burden being lifted off your shoulders to be able to depend on someone else for help, even if it was in the form of a mildly tempered man. He took your pen from the desk, starting to write some things down before handing it back to you. "Try changing these and see how much better it gets. I'm not too specialized in the matter since my webs are organic but I think it'll do you some good."

Miguel always found himself annoyed when someone burst into his office without announcing their arrival beforehand, but he couldn't seem to get annoyed with you when you did. "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering. I wanted to thank you for the insight you gave me, it really did help with the webbing issue," you spoke up, having to crane your neck to look up at him as he stood on the platform. "No problem. Is there something else that you needed?" he responded, the platform slowly starting its descent. "Well, I was wondering if you could help me design a new suit since mine got pretty torn up during that battle. You seem to be aware of what type of materials to use and whatnot, so I figured you were probably best to ask," you told him, his figure looming in front of yours as he got off the platform. "Sure, follow me."

It was easy to fall in love with him despite the nature that he showed to others, since he was always so relaxed with you. You could see the walls that he'd carefully buried his feelings with slowly start to crumble down every single time that the two of you were together. Dates between the two of you had become routine, some of the members from HQ commending you for getting Miguel out of his office for more than a couple minutes at a time. He caressed your skin with such care, each one of his touches exuding the affection that he was harboring towards you. The time that he told you that he loved you, you couldn't help but feel like you were on top of the world for a change. You knew how hard it was for him to love people, to even get close to them, so to have the honor of having his heart was one you valued greatly.

You weren't sure when your relationship with Miguel started to feel like it was heading in a downward spiral, the whole thing resembling the feeling of being on a rollercoaster. "Don't worry, he just doesn't know how to deal with things," Peter had tried to assure you after he witnessed one of the more intense fights that the two of you had. You'd tried to take Peter's advice and not let the arguments get too much to your head, but it seemed like you were walking on land mines every time you interacted with him. After every storm, there seemed to be calm aura around the two of you for a couple days. almost as a way to recharge and regroup before the next fight started and the cycle repeated itself once more. You forgave him every time that he did something you would disagree with, a small part of you dying inside with every "it's okay" that you gave him.

He'd grown more fond of you, falling deeper and deeper in love with you every time that you forgave him for pushing your boundaries. But on the contrary, you started to fall out of love with him with every empty promise at being better that he uttered. His apologies had become repetitive, to the point where he was simply just recycling them in hopes that you wouldn't be pissed off at him for more than a day or two. The words "I’m sorry" had become a routine part of his vocabulary, almost seeming like every conversation that he held with you included them. The words soon enough lost all the original meaning to them, especially when he said them in that tone that implied he would rather be doing anything else than apologizing.

"Can't you see i'm trying to focus on this damn anomaly? It's already hard enough with you interrupting," he scowled as you came into his office with a box of pizza. You'd meant for it to be a kind gesture, for him to be able to eat something throughout the day since you knew that he would spend most of time buried away in the shadows tinkering with his screens. "I just wanted to get you something to eat so you wouldn't have to worry about it," you hated how weak your voice sounded as you spoke, your voice doing nothing to conceal the hurt you felt. "I'll change, I'm sorry. I'll do better," he assured you, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead once he saw your bottom lip tremble. "I'm just so stressed, y'know how it is. I'll manage it better for you, I promise. I'll really do it this time," he told you before you walked away from his office, imaginary claws digging into your chest. And he had kept his promise, mostly changing for the worst.

"I don't get why you're so pissed off that I missed our date, it's just one out of many. We'll just go on another one," he scoffed, not even bothering to look at you as his fingers typed away on the hovering monitor. "It was our two year anniversary date, Miguel. And I'm pissed off because you've been missing out every date that we have scheduled for the past five months," you managed to get out, almost like you didn't believe that he would forget. "I said I would make it up to you, stop making a big deal out of this," he reiterated, talking to you like you were the one in the wrong for having the simple desire of wanting to hang out with him. "There was a time when you actually knew the balance between being with me and your work. I hope you find that soon for both of our sakes," you told him, reminiscing of many months ago before stepping out of his office.

You were so tired of forcing yourself to look at the good that had been in the relationship, tired of living off of solely the good memories. The decision of breaking up hadn't been something that crossed your mind until you saw a couple strolling down the street while you were on your way to get something to eat. You'd never felt so alone looking at them despite the fact that you had a partner, but the way that they laughed and basked in each other's presence seemed something almost foreign to you at this point in time. You were grasping at straws, hoping that one day Miguel would wake up and love you the way that he used to. But that hope inside you slowly began to extinguish, until there was nothing left but just a feeling of adaptation. You wanted to convince yourself that you could adapt to this new way of living, of being able to claim that he was your boyfriend out of the love you felt for him without actually spending time with him, but the simple truth was that you couldn't handle it anymore.

To him, the breakup had been sudden. like you woke up one day and decided that being with him wasn't worth it anymore. It was hard for Miguel to even fathom the idea of having to go through the motions of life without you, especially when he saw himself having a future with you. He'd thought about what it would've been like coming home to you, maybe with a couple kids and a dog running around. But that's all that it was now, just a thought he wouldn't be able to fulfill. He felt the void of your presence everytime he walked inside of his apartment, it was like you had never been in his space in the first place. He wanted to grow accustomed to that feeling, but every single of atom of his being couldn't help but yearn for you.

Every single task that he had to do in his life felt meaningless now that he couldn't return home to you, not that he would do it on most days regardless. But he liked to have the knowledge that you would be there, welcoming him with a hug and a smile while your hands massaged his back. He knew that it was nobody's fault but his own, for pushing you too far past your limits. He wanted to blame it on his upbringing, for not having a good coping mechanism with his stress, but he knew that the fault all lied on his shoulders. He wasn't aware of how good he'd had it until he lost you, realizing just how lucky he was to have someone so kind and understanding be by his side. His hands reached out for you in the couple hours of sleep that he managed to get, silent tears rolling down his cheeks after finding that you weren't there.

"Your serotonin levels are extremely low, are you sure you don't want to take a break from all this?" LYLA spoke up, doing the routine health scan Miguel had programmed her to. "Don't start. Just give me the reports," he grumbled, looking up once LYLA was finished talking. "You have 10 missed messages, do you want me to read them out to you?" LYLA asked him as he sat at his desk, his hands on his knees as he looked down at the floor. As LYLA read out the messages that Gabriel along with a couple of the other spider recruits had sent him, he couldn't help but wish that maybe your name would pop up in between the mix. "Discard them all, thank you," he ordered LYLA, the assistant doing as she's told before disappearing off into thin air.

"Miguel! My man, How are you doing?" Peter's voice boomed throughout the office, his voice echoing through the confined space. Miguel gave a small grunt in response, not willing himself to entertain him at the moment. "Well, I have to say that me and MJ are doing so great right now, I'm honestly so lucky to have her in my life," Peter gushed about his wife, completely oblivious to the internal turmoil raging inside of Miguel. "Are you here just to talk about how wonderful your wife is or does this impromptu appearance have a point?" He asked the man, arms folded underneath his chin. "Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come out of your office for once. You've been trapped in here for a long time," Peter told him, his bunny slippers squeaking on the floor as he walked closer to Miguel. Miguel wanted to deny the accusations and lie, say that he's fine and that he'd been going outside of his office, but he decided to stay quiet.

As soon as he stepped out of the office with Peter B, he couldn't help but instantly regret his decision. because there you stood, laughing along with something a recruit was telling you. At that moment, he so captivated by the way that your laugh sounded, like the tune of a thousand angels singing down on him. The way that your smile just seemed to radiate across the room even to him, making him feel as though he were a planet and you the sun, simply entranced in your orbit. But with those feelings also stemmed the feelings of regret and jealousy. He wanted to be the one that made you laugh like that, wanted you to even spare a single glance at him. It made him want to hold you in his embrace one more time, to appreciate everything that he'd lost the moment you broke up with him. You were so close to him, yet so unattainable.

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spiderlyla · 4 months

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a rare morning. miguel x reader

Stirring awake, your hands rub at your eyes, trying to adjust to the new day that lies ahead of you. The coldness of the room makes you shuffle your feet against his calves, attempting to derive some warmth from his body.

He’s still asleep, his chest rising and falling, light— no, heavy snores leaving his mouth. Miguel’s hands are loosely wrapped around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your neck. And with every exhale your skin tingles from his breath.

Selfishly, you desire to move. You want to stretch your limbs to escape from the past restraint of sleep. But you hesitate, desperately trying to think of a way to do so without disturbing your lover from his sleep. He’s been working till late recently and waking up at times that no human possibly should be waking up at.

But, this morning was a rare morning. A rare morning where he’s promised to stay in and spend some time with you.

And he can tell that you’ve been missing him lately. Your failed attempts to stay up and wait for him were obvious, he’d often find you asleep on the couch with a book opened on its spine adjacent.

Becoming restless with every second, you decide to get up for a glass of water. Now you knew that you would have to be stragtegic. One wrong move and you’ll wake up him up. You first problem was the hands that held your waist.

Carefully, you begin guide one hand off. His large hands severely contrasting your own. You freeze at the sound of a groan, then an inaudible murmur.

‘Is he awake?’ You think to yourself. Anxiously, you wait a few seconds until his breathing returns to normal and place his hand away from you.

Now you just had to remove the other one and you’d be ‘free’ to go, that is if you don’t wake him up. Your hand only seem to make it to his wrist before you’re stopped.

“Baby?”

shit.

Another groan leaves Miguel’s throat and simulatenously, his hand wraps around your waist again.

“M’just going for a glass of water.” You whisper.

“Stay.”

“M’ really thirsty, I’ll come back.”

He mumbles again and you can’t make out what he’s saying, his mouth slightly covered by his pillow.

“baby I can’t hear you.”

“I’ll go, you stay.” He mumbles.

“Mig’-“

“Just five more minutes.”

And with that, his hands are all over you again, caging you back with him. mission unaccomplished.

You settle back into his arms, accepting your fate. You guess you can wait a few more hours.

After a few minutes of silence, a muffled voice is heard by your shoulder.

“are you still thirsty, nena? Because I can go get you that glass—“

“no miggy, m’fine.” you smile. Perhaps if it was any other morning you’d still be restless but this?

You rarely got to experience this. his arms around you, his bare skin on yours, his naked soul entwined with your own. Upon meeting him for the first time you would have never thought that this is how you’d end up. Being one of the only people that he feels comfortable around. So much so, that he feels comfortable being vulnerable with you.

and you wouldn’t take it for granted. not anymore.

i love him your honor. :(

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spiderlyla · 4 months

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headcannon of asking miguel to help you make your ass fatter at the gym??!? bro is all over that

turned this into a fic LMAO hope you enjoy (gn!reader)

"You want to what?

Miguel grunts, carefully setting the weight rod back in it's slot after he almost dropped it onto his chest upon hearing your request. He flicked off the sweat on his forehead, eyes glancing up to see you smiling ever so sweetly at him.

"You heard me," Getting sassy with him now, aren't you? You crossed your arms, grinning. "I want to make my ass bigger, figured you'd know how to help me."

He sat up, placing his hands on your each sides of your hips, still utterly and completely baffled. "No, I heard that, but I don't get it." You wrapped your arms around his tense shoulders, massaging them slowly. "Tu trasero se ve bien." [Your ass looks great.]

"Of course, you think so. But I already made up my mind, so are you going to help me or should I open a tutorial to follow?"

He groaned, mulling it over in his head before nodding. "Okay, okay, I'll help." Excitedly, you placed a kiss to his forehead, pulling him up to his feet.

His reluctance was not out of laziness, he loves it when you ask him for help working out, but this was going to be the end of him.

"Is it suppose to feel this uncomfortable?" It was your first exercise and you were already pouting up at him. Miguel adjusted your hands on the rod, then moved to check your posture.

He told you the first exercise should be a little more easier than this, but you insisted on trying the squat rack, saying you could take it. "Your posture is all wrong. Arch your back a bit, baby." He placed his hand on the small of your back, trying to push you forward a little. You moved just a little, letting out a pained groan, "It feels worse."

"Honey, that's because you didn't move." He makes his way behind you, pushing you forward until you finally let out an exhale of relief. "Now you can move. Just very slowly, okay? Make sure your grip is tight around the rod." Miguel didn't have time to move, he found himself trapped behind you, as you squatted ever so slowly, brushing against him with each movement.

He stood stunned, breath hitched in his throat, lips pursed, hands beside him as he stood awkwardly behind you.

"Am I doing this right?" Your ever so innocent question bursts his bubble, and he lets out a small hum of approval. "Yeah, just..." He placed his hands on each side of your hips, pulling you towards him. You squatted again, this time very aware that you're brushing against him. He could feel blood rushing between his legs, every time the curve of your ass came in contact with him. Miguel almost choked up on his groans, "Yeah, just like that..."

"You seem out of breath, Mig. You wanna sit down?" You're teasing him, he can tell. Was this your plan all along, to get him groaning and squirming in place like some horny teenager?

"No, I'm fine—Aye, por el amor de Dios, me estás volviendo loco." Very reluctantly, he moved back to his original spot. He watched from the sidelines as you went up and down, struggling with the weights a bit after a few squats. "That's enough for now, cariño, or else you'll get a cramp. Let's try something else." He stepped infront of you, easily removing the weight from your hands and setting it down.

Miguel led you over to a mat, his hand never parting from your waist. "Here. Get on all fours."

"Kinky."

"Amor, por favor."

Your giggles made him drop the tough exterior he was trying to maintain. "Prop yourself up, and kick back with your right leg 5 times, then your left 5 times."

Simple as that, right? Wrong. He knew how smart you are, so for you to mess this up was deliberate, then again, those innocent stares you were giving him were really throwing him off. He spent the next ten minutes trying to guide you, but you only seemed to get it right when he kneeled beside you.

"Honey, don't open your legs, just—" One of his calloused hands rested on the back of your thigh, while other was shamlessly on your ass. That seemed to seize your movments completely. He gave you a gentle squeeze, beckoning you to move, but you let out a small squeak. "Focus, hm?"

Now you got it right. Once he made sure you were doing it correctly, he stood up, yet his eyes stayed on your form, watching you intently as you huffed and puffed. "Someone's tired already? You've done this 20 times total now."

"Maybe we should take a break, Mig."

"I thought you have a goal here, don't you?"

You stopped the exercise and laid on your back, smiling up at him. "Mhm, but I am tired, and it seems like my coach is distracted too, so maybe we should both take a moment."

He raised his brows, unimpressed, yet his flushed cheeks exposed him. He spread an arm to help you up, only for you to tug him down, making him lose his balance and fall ontop of you. His knee separated your thighs, while his arms held him up, entrapping you. "Did you actually want to work out, or did you just want my attention?" He asked, a wide grin replacing his usual pout. You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling. "A bit of both. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping we'd end up where we are right now." He laughs, brushing his nose against yours, tufts of his hair tickling your forehead. "All you had to do was ask, didn't need to put me through all that."

"I love teasing you."

"Oh, that I can tell." His lips press against yours in a heated kiss. Miguel's hands wrap around your waist, pulling you on top to straddle him. His hands roam further down, on your rear.

Then he gives you a strong squeeze. You squeal, breaking the kiss to glare at him. He only grins back up at you, cupping your cheeks.

"Well, it's definitely firmer."

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