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nice2michuu · 1 year

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Miguelito: a Miguelxreader fanfic :p

edit that inspired this:

credits in the video^^send this person lots of love <3

sidenote: Heyy this is my first fanfic EVER so please please please cut me some slack, advice and tips would be very nice!! <3

The spanish in this fic should be easy to translate, but I lost the language a little bit so I’m sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes 😭🙏🏻

Also If this fic does well I promise I’ll make a better fic where y/n isn’t basically an oc

Warningsss:

• nsfw and mention of nsfw

• Yelling/arguing

• language/insults

• crying

• fighting

• Alcohol

• blood

• some limes (or lemons if I feel like it)

In general if you’re sensitive to that kinda stuff please don’t read!!!

Word count: 3k+

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As a vigilante and a natural leader, Miguel O’hara doesn’t seem to show any faults at all. But ask any friend of Miguel and they’ll tell you what it is. Pride.

Pride is Miguel O’hara’s Achille’s heel. Hurt his pride and he’ll take it as a challenge. With pride comes tenacity, stubbornness. No one has been able to fully break Miguel O’hara down. Until y/n. Peter B. Parker could talk all about the countless nights Miguel has been wine-drunk and lamenting his past: the universe he destroyed, the daughter he lost, and lastly, Y/n.

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It’s raining, a cold, heavy, and harsh rain. Y/n waits at the door to his apartment, her hair is wet and her soft black curls are ruined and frizzy, but she doesn’t care that much, thoughts are flying through her mind like racecars returning and making laps hundreds of times at record speeds, too many thoughts for her to care about her hair. The rain tapping on the windows of the apartment building are the only noise in the thick, tense air as she waits for an answer, nausea rising to her chest.

Miguel opens the door quickly, leaning on the doorway in his pajamas and looming over her, his significant height countering his welcoming, smug smile with a daunting feeling of doom. “Welcome back, mi morenita~” he cooes at her.

y/n immediately regrets her decision and rolls her eyes, sighing the tightness in her chest away, “Don’t patronize me.” Tonight is a night of mixed emotions, for the both of them. Y/n looks out the window in the hallway to raindrops and grey bleakness, then back at the warm apartment behind Miguel.

Miguel laughs, breaking the awkward silence of y/n that makes the air thick like gelatin. “Okay okay, pasa.”

He moves out of the way so y/n can walk in.

Miguel didn’t bother to do much for her company. The apartment is clean, as he naturally leaves it, but the TV is on, a half-eaten popcorn bowl is on the coffee table, and the lights are off. The apartment only being lit by the TV, a built-in heater under the TV that looks like a fireplace, and the kitchen light on the other side of the apartment. The lighting leaves an even more ominous, sickly feeling to the nostalgic apartment.

Y/n scoffs and chuckles, looking at the TV, “Puss in Boots? You were always so childish—” she stops talking as strong arms wrap around her shoulders from behind and Miguel nuzzles into her neck and thick hair, hunching over her and warming her skin that grew cold from the weather outside.

“You’re soaked from the rain..you’re gonna get sick, chula.” Miguel gives her a soft kiss on the cheek, y/n doesn’t resist or mind at all. His voice is low and soft, a comforting feeling grows within y/n and she relaxes, but also freaks out because she’s still crushing on him like a damn schoolgirl. A growing, sick feeling in her stomach festers in y/n. Miguel lets go of her and walks to the bathroom to get her a towel to dry herself off. He’s teasing y/n for coming back, but they both know damn well that they both missed each other, despite how toxic and venomous last time was. Their last spats at each other before y/n left him still play out in both of their minds.

Y/n looks around. She knows this apartment all too well. Looking around and seeing the furniture and warm atmosphere in the same places as the last time she left him made her even more nauseous. She takes off her jacket and sets it on the coat rack by the wall, going to their..his couch and shaking off the water droplets from her hair. Y/n shook off the water on the couch to piss him off just a little bit, to jab at him for last time.

Miguel tosses the towel at her face, she got under his skin already, “Can you not, y/n?”

“Since when have you worried about this apartment? You’re barely even here!” Y/n retorted as she sets the towel on her lap, not wanting to towel-dry her hair. She references their past in a petty manner, bringing up the times he wasn’t there for her.

Miguel huffs and glares at her, “..are you serious? You’re still not over it? And stop being picky like you always are!” His voice is tinged with a growing anger.

“Obviously not if I came back to you!” Y/n spit back, her hard tone and soft words make her difficult to read. She tosses the towel to the side, on the floor, to piss him off more.

Miguel sighs and plops next to y/n, his voice changing from annoyed to low and growling, “Did you want to talk or what?” His angry, resentful gaze resting on her face, occasionally looking at her figure. “God…she’s hot” Miguel thinks to himself, his lust starting to eat at his self-respect.

Even after everything, he doesn’t want to admit any wrong-doing, or apologize, but y/n is willing to overlook it all over again. “I dunno, I just..missed you, Miguelito..” Unlike Miguel, she can toss her pride to the side. Y/n’s tone switches from venomous and witty to something softer and more genuine. The nickname for him is sweet and cute, and Miguel can feel a pang in his heart as he hears it.

While Miguel’s fault is his pride, y/n’s fault is her resolve. She’ll get what she wants — him — even if it harms her in the process.

Miguel doesn’t say anything, he diverts his eyes from her and scoffs. He’s not gonna admit that he missed her too, no matter how bad his heart ached at the sound of her voice.

“Don’t do that..” Y/n starts to get upset, leaning closer to him and looking at him nervously. Her stomachache and nausea gets worse as she tries to read his expression.

(At this point, Kitty Softpaws and Puss in Boots are also having a moment.)

Miguel sighs and looks at y/n, “Do you want me or do you want to argue with me?” he grumbles, his voice is still quiet and husky, as if he was reluctant to say anything at all.

Y/n’s black-brown eyes burn with determination, “I want you. Te quiero mucho, Miguelito, tu ya sabes.” Y/n puts a hand on his knee and looks at his eyes, leaning closer to him, almost begging for him. Miguel looks at her beautiful face and softens.

Miguel can’t resist the impulse anymore and kisses y/n, holding her face. He leans over her and kisses her passionately. Y/n leans closer to him on the couch, putting a hand on his chest.

“Mmh..” is her only reaction.

Miguel lets out a sort of growl/groan as he kisses y/n’s lips and runs his fingers through her thick hair.

“Your little jabs at me piss me off, chula.” Miguel says in a low voice, close to y/n and looking softly, but sternly at her.

“No mames, Miguelito, get over it.” Y/n says quickly and kisses his lips softly.

Miguel rolls his eyes and stops kissing y/n, letting go of her chin. He leans away from her and looks annoyed. Y/n furrows her brows.

“What?” Y/n sits back and looks at him.

Miguel sighs, “Get over it? I’m not gonna be some type of back up you return to when you want attention, puta.”

“Oh you’re calling ME the whore? Don’t even start! What happened to Teresa, huh? Dime!” Y/n is rightfully upset, Miguel cheated on her the first few times they dated with Teresa.

“Uuuy! Tu ya sabes, puta!” Miguel starts to get angry at the mention of his infidelity, “You beat her up!”

Y/n stands up, looking at him with distaste “Rightfully so! I should’ve beat you up too! Hijo malcreado! Do you still care about Teresa or something?!”

“Stop bringing up that woman!” Miguel quickly retorts and also stands up, towering over y/n.

Y/n starts to tear up with anger, “Don’t tell me what to do, Miguelito! You FUCKED her! I’ll say her name all I fucking want! Teresa Teresa Teresa Teresa Teresa!”

Y/n points a finger at Miguel and steps foreward, getting in his face while still saying her name.

“CALLATÉ! BASTA!!” Miguel screams at y/n and she quickly shuts up. Y/n steps back and bumps into a side table, knocking over a vase and shattering it.

Silence fills the room again, the warmth of the apartment starts to feel unwelcoming and humid and the nausea fills y/n’s gut again. The quiet is obnoxiously loud. Neither know what to say now.

Y/n hastily grabs her things, the tears of her anger falling down her cheeks.

“..y/n..” Miguel immediately feels remorse.

In her haste, y/n cuts her hand on a shard of the vase, groaning in frustration. Miguel tries to step foreward and look at the wound but hesitates. Drops of her blood from her landing on the floor, her rustling and gathering being the only noise Miguel can hear. The TV and the rain outside is drowned out by how cold the situation quickly became.

“No, no..I’ll leave. You can keep fucking whoever replaced me..” Y/n starts to go out, walking past him. Her voice is shaky and emotional. Miguel grabs her wrist and stops her.

“Querida..por favor—” Miguel is quickly inturrupted by a hard slap from y/n, who started to fully cry. The slap was from her injured hand, blood splattering on his cheek.

“BASTA! I get it!! Just stop, please..Miguelito..” Y/n begs him. Her hand is starting to bleed a little less, but the slap mark left on Miguel’s face is appearing more and more.

Miguel is left speechless, touching the cheek y/n slapped and looking at her in sad disbelief. He wipes the blood off and looks at his hand with her blood on it. The nickname makes everything all the more heartwrenching for Miguel. He pulls her in, grabbing her wrist and stops her from leaving again. “No te vas..te quiero mucho, y/n..por favor, you’re gonna get sick from the rain..”

Miguel pulls her in for a strong hug, blinking back his own tears. Y/n is pressed against his chest. His hand is on her head, petting her now dry, fluffy black curls.

“I’m sorry, y/n. No me pegas, though, please. That hurt..”

Y/n doesn’t know how to feel, her head hurts. She hugs him back and cries into his chest, dropping her things. Y/n pulls his collar down so she could kiss him passionately, tears still running down her cheeks and her hand still bleeding. Miguel kisses back with equal passion, pulling her close and hunching over her. Y/n pulls away from the kiss to breathe, panting.

“You know I always go back to you” Y/n whispers to him dejectedly, yet sweetly, before kissing him again, wrapping her arms around his neck as his arms wrap around her waist. Those words make Miguel melt and he groans and pins her to the wall of the hallway entrance to his apartment, kissing her face and neck.

“You’ve stayed my only since Teresa, you know that? Tu, y solo tu, hermosa.” Miguel whispers to y/n lovingly and in a slight sad way. Y/n let out a soft moan as Miguel kisses her neck and she runs her fingers through his hair. Miguel softens at her touch and kisses her slower, still petting her.

“I didn’t, Miguelito..” Y/n whispers back, saddened by the memory. Y/n nuzzles into his neck, her sweet scent in her soft hair near his face. Miguel holds her tighter and presses onto her, his cock getting hard.

“..fuck..”

Y/n chuckles and kisses his cheek and neck, feeling his bulge poking her. “Miguelito?” She cooes at him, the same way he greeted her. The nickname only makes him harder.

“Shut up, y/n..” Miguel stops pinning her as hard and looks down, slightly embarassed and looking away from her. His pride is hurt, weakened by his arousal.

Y/n shrugs and goes to the kitchen to wash the blood away in the sink. Miguel follows her instinctively and lingers, also eventually cleaning the blood off of his face and hand. Miguel feels awkward watching y/n tend to her hand, still heavily aroused and wanting to be closer to her.

“You gonna fuck me on the counter or what?” Y/n sneered at Miguel. He groans, annoyed, but is flushed a deep red.

“..maybe..”

Miguel smirks maliciously and picks y/n up from behind, putting her over his shoulder. Y/n flails around in vain, yelling and laughing. The atmosphere cools down and the argument is quickly forgotten.

“AAY! MIGUEL!! PARA!!” y/n pleads as she’s carried off to his room, which they once shared.

“Nope. nah. you pissed me off, chula.” Miguel says, half joking half serious.

Their room is a mix of cool and warm colors, a nice, comforting purple. The blinds allow for a soft blue light to come in, the sound of the TV is drowned out by the taps of rain on the windows. Miguel smirks as y/n is still flailing and kicking, her ass on his shoulder. He slams her down on the bed playfully.

“AHHH!!!” Y/n yells out from the long fall, bouncing as she falls onto the bed. She starts laughing, “Que haces, Miguelito!?!?”.

Miguel flips her over and bends her over the bed forcefully, pulling her precious curls back and whispering in her ear, with a low and growling voice, grinning and leaning over her.

“Te vas a callar? Eh, preciosa?”

Chills run down y/n’s spine at the question. Y/n is shocked at the sudden dominance he’s showing and could have done to her this whole time. His whispers and hair pulling feel terrifying, but arousing at the same time. Miguel kisses down her neck and pins her down on the soft purple comforter. She’s hasn’t seen this side of him in a long time, she almost forgot about it.

“Never..you can’t shut me up, not ever.” Y/n says between heavy breaths and stalled words. She regains her composure and is smirking at him to get under his skin, and it’s working. Miguel stops pulling her hair and pins her head down on the bed, her ass stays up and is bulge presses against it. Her vulva tenses at the feeling, getting wet.

“Is that a challenge, querida?” Miguel does get pissed off and leans over y/n, his buldge twitching against y/n’s now soaked pants. “You know what I’m implying, y/n, right?”

Miguel’s voice and tone is harsh and deep, but in a good way. He hates y/n right now, but wants to fuck the shit out her. Bang her into submission.

Y/n starts to speak but is inturrupted.

“oh god—”

“You’re wet.” Miguel states. He stops pinning her down for a few moments, y/n can’t really see what he’s doing but she gets on the bed and sits on her knees. She finally looks back at him and he’s shirtless, a wave of arousal and shyness flooding over her.

“God I hate you, Miguelito..” Y/n says breathlessly, looking at his fit figure and defined muscles and light tan skin that reflects softly with the moonlight from the blinds, the rain tapping making the atmosphere feel colder.

Miguel looks at her, confused but still hard, “Apenas me dijistes que me querías! What’s with the switch ups?”

“I hate you because you’re so damn irresistable, wey!” Y/n spits back, still looking over her shoulder at Miguel’s body.

“Ah, well fuck you too, y/n!” Miguel furrows his brows.

Y/n blurts out, “yes please, mmmh” she lightly chuckles while biting her lip and looking at his body. She realizes she said it loud.

Miguel starts laughing and y/n looks away, embarassed. She looks down at the purple comforter.

Y/n is slowly pinned down again, this time on the bed. Miguel’s hands are grabbing her asscheeks and gently brushing her thick, black curly hair to the side. Y/n couldn’t see, but her clothes were ripped off as if a claw, or fang did it. She’s not complaining, though. Miguel pins her head on the bed harder again and plays with the hem of her wet panties. He leans over her and whispers in her ear again, his voice full of malice and anticipation, “As you wish, chula.”

Y/n can do nothing but moan in her exhale, Miguel is tracing and caressing her back and sending tingles up her spine.

“Already moaning? I didn’t even do anything..and you’re soaked..wow y/n, you’re not over me at all~” Miguel taunts her and whispers in her ear.

“God just fuck me already thats what everyone came here for!!” Y/n yells out in a 4th wall breaking plea. “I need you in me now!! I can’t take it any longer!!” Her wails and begging for his cock is pretty out of character for y/n, then again she’s supposed to be a character people can relate to.

Miguel laughs again and moves her underwear to the side, inserting his lengthy, wide dick in her, slowly, stretching her insides. He’s keeping y/n’s torso pinned down and her ass up, making her arch her back. Y/n lets out a strained moan.

“Begging for me? Interesting from you, morenita.” Miguel leans over y/n as he’s fucking her, starting off slow so she can adjust to his huge dick.

“God I needed you, te necesito, Miguel, oh god, Miguelito~” Y/n’s whining is cut off by a moan as he sets a faster pace, pumping inside of her. Miguel starts breathing heavily, his body starting to sweat and glisten.

“Dime, querida, a quien te parteneces?” Miguel grunts out, starting to moan himself.

“..what?” Y/n looks back, Miguel gets closer and hugs her tight from behind, still pounding her. He quickens his pace, fucking y/n harder and shoving his cock deeper into her pussy.

“Answer me. Who do you belong to!?” Miguel grunts and pulls y/n’s hair so her head is at the same level as his. Y/n yelps in pain then moans uncontrollably.

“Mi-miguelito..” y/n whimpers, her vulva oozing with wetness. Miguel holds her tighter and whispers in her ear, his tone getting harsher and more aggressive, almost animalistic.

"Dime. Dime bien, Chula." Miguel growled in her ear, grabbing y/n's wrists and pinning them together over her head on the bed, y/n grips the violet sheets and arches into him. Moaning and stuttering, trying to speak. Any confidence and power y/n had was gone now, chipped away with every thrust from Miguel, every time his wide dick slides in and out of her, stretching her and exiting her constantly. His warmth inside of her causes tingles and flutters to go up y/n's walls and up her spine.

“S-soy tuyo, Miguel.. GOD, MIGUELITO!!!” y/n moans as she climaxes, Miguel still drilling into her. The wet noises from her dripping cunt sounding like that one vine where the boy says to his mom as she’s cooking rice,“thats what good pussy sounds like” you all know the one, yep, that one.

Miguel eventually pulls out and cums on her behind, moving to the side and laying down on his back next to her, his cock still twitching. Y/n splays out and lays down on her stomach, her vagina is sore and her insides feel emptied. Miguel turns his head to look at y/n, the bottom half of her body is wet with her juices and his nut. Miguel groans as his length is still twitching and trying to calm down after his orgasm, his view of y/n not helping at all.

“Eres mia, y/n. Mia” Miguel says between heavy breaths, whispering to y/n as she calms down from her climax.

Y/n looks at him and smirks, “I regret saying that,” she starts to chuckle, “Your ego is gonna be through the roof.”

Miguel furrows his brows and turns to face her, “My ego?” His tone gets more authoritative, but he’s smirking through his words, “You’re crazy, don’t even start.” Miguel pulls her in for a strong embrace, squeezing her tightly against him.

Y/n scoffs, “I’m not crazy! You are the crazy one—”

“Cálmate, querida. Let’s not argue every other paragraph..” Miguel whispers to her, breaking the 4th wall again. He holds her close and kisses her forehead.

Y/n calms down and snuggles into his arms reluctantly. Miguel occasionally grabs and rubs y/n’s asscheeks as they cuddle, they both eventually fall asleep in each other’s embrace. Miguel runs his hands through y/n’s thick hair in his sleep, sometimes rolling on top of her and almost suffocating her. He also snores extremely loudly, like a dad, but Y/n doesn’t mind.

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This story brings the question, “How did Miguel lose y/n?” He doesn’t like to talk about it. Not even with close friends. He’d throw a desk at a person if they even thought about asking. After, Miguel would probably get sloppy drunk and listen to “Tragos Amargos” or “No hay Novedad”, sobbing the lyrics.

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