#miguel o'hara fiction

[honestsycrets]

This user has been stealing my work, Mio, on wattpad. Does anyone familiar with Wattpad know how I might go about getting it removed? Thank you to the user who called my attention to this. I really do hate it when this is done.

#stolen content #writer things #I filed a takedown on it but not sure if that'll work #miguel o'hara x rader #atsv imagines #atsv fic #miguel o'hara/reader #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman 2099 fanfiction #miguel o'hara fiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #man they even took my summary #i just wanted to come back to prepare another piece for posting and got a whole anxiety response off this i want to cry

[cupcakeinat0r]

Thinkin' abt DadBod!Miguel at the gym <3

You'd been going to the gym routinely, or at least trying to. You decided to go after working up the courage and convincing yourself that this was just for fun. That your body was your temple, and you were tending to it, no matter how it looked <3

The first week wasn't so bad. After embarrassingly tripping on equipment or accidentally dropping weights here and there, it was alright! Though at times, it was still difficult to stay consistent, until one day, you saw him.

Over on the other side of the gym, curling some dumbbells (100s, mind you), was a total 6-foot, thick, hairy dream of a man. You first noticed his chiseled face adorned by fine lines, locks of black hair framing it. With each draw of the weights, his biceps bulged. Beads of sweat trickled down his bulky chest and wide shoulders. When your eyes wander downward, you're surprised to not find washboard abs.

Oh no, what you find instead excites you even more than any pack of abs could offer you.

Your mouth waters slightly to find that his tank top has ridden up slightly over his hefty belly, graciously allowing a peek at a happy trail, its path sadly blocked by some basketball shorts (his cute bubble butt and giant dick print made up for it tho).

Despite his low, breathy grunts and intense crimson gaze towards his own reflection, he was making it look easy. You thought about how easy it'd probably be for him to carry you bride-style and throw you onto a bed before spreading your legs with those enormous hands so he could feast until your eyes crossed. Or how it'd be effortless for him to hold you tightly with your legs wrapped around that stocky midsection of his while he bullied his-

"'scuse me, you waiting for this bench?" a deep voice snaps you out of a daydream. You see the man is now looking at you with what looks like a knowing smirk. Fuck, he noticed you staring.

"Oh! N-no, was just looking for the 10s!" You blurt, evoking a velvety chuckle and dashing smile from him.

"Right over there." He motions with his chin toward the weight rack where the 10s are obviously displayed. After you thanked him, He smiled and nodded back to you, turning back toward the mirror to do his last set.

The second week felt like no problem. Instead of dragging yourself to the gym, you looked forward to it, scanning for your new gym crush every time you entered.

You'd feel a lil surge of happiness when you do find him there, feeling brave enough to exchange smiles and sometimes even little waves from across the gym. One time, the older man made you swoon when he winked at you upon entering the gym. After seeing your cute reaction, this would be how he greeted you every time.

The third week came You're at the squat rack, feeling stronger than usual, so you opt to go the heaviest you've ever gone. Big mistake. By the third rep, you fail to get back up, panicking and legs shaking. Just when you feel yourself start to fall, you see a pair of hands dart toward the bar from behind you, lifting it with ease and allowing you to stand back up. The bar is re-racked and you turn to find gym bae.

"You okay?" he gently prompts, a worried look on his face.

"Yes, thank you... think I might've gone too heavy." you nervously chuckle. He does as well, seeing that you're alright.

"Next time you go for a PR, you need to ask for a spotter, hun." He gives you that dashing smile again, his hands on his love handles.

"Yeah, I probably should've," you lower your head in defeat, "I didn't bring anyone with me though."

"You could've asked me," He says matter of factly as if it should've been obvious that he should be the one to spot you. "I would've done it with no problem, mama." His pet names make your womanhood pulse.

You look back up at him, your lips curled into a shy smile.

"C'mon, let's try again." "No, no, mama, I got that, I'll put it away for you." "Keep your knees like this-theeeere you go. "Gimme one more, mama, just one more, you can do it." "Atta girl! Good job, mamita."

You learned that his name is Miguel. He'd become your designated spotter on leg days, the sensation of his larger frame against yours making you nervous in the best way.

Your favorite is when his tummy accidentally brushes against your back, and borderline, your ass, and if not his tummy, it'd be his prominent bulge (which isn't there bc he gets to spot the adorable girl with an amazing ass from the gym... totally not that).

On the Fourth week, Miguel would ask you if you wanted to be workout buddies altogether. Of course, you accept, in which he asks for your number so like that, he can text you when he's going and vice versa.

It's the fifth week, and you both have worked out together a couple times already. Miguel texted you in the morning asking if you'd like to join him, which you were totally down for.

You two started with lateral pull-downs. Once it was your turn, you sat on the machine and reached for the handle, pulling it as you began your set.

Anytime you felt like you wanted advice or correction, Miguel eagerly helped you.

His hands would stay on your waist, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Mhm, there you go, you're doin' so good, mama." He praises in almost a whisper.

If only he knew he was making the exercise only harder. As if that weren't enough, his finger would occasionally message your hip. Your bodies were so close that you were able to hear each satisfied hum from his lips, suggesting you were doing the exercise right.

"Good girl, that was better. You feel it now?" He says, letting go to let you off the machine.

"Yeah, thank you! When it comes to upper body, I'll need all the help I can get. I'm just glad I’m getting it from an upper-body master." You flirtatiously add, playfully poking at one of his biceps.

This makes him blush, but only for a moment before he returns with a cocky response, "Thanks, hun. I'm glad to be working out with a leg-day goddess."

Now it was your turn to blush, except you didn't have any smart comeback, boosting Miguel's ego.

"Listen, let me treat you to smoothie after this, yeah?" He says it more like a statement than a request, and you happily oblige.

What you were expecting was a simple, cheap smoothie from a spot you usually go to, but instead, you're met with a drive-thru menu listing shakes from $20 and up. Oh he got moneyyyy.

Miguel tells you to pick any that looks good to you. He orders for himself and you as well, parking the car once the two of you get the smoothies.

As he sips from the cup, you take the opportunity to subtly glance at his figure, his muscles, how his pecs sit beautifully on top of his soft belly, his thighs constrained by the confines of his gym shorts. You think how badly you wanna sit there, grinding on the print 'til there was a wet spot-

"Something on your mind, mama?" You look back at him, taking a few seconds to register his words.

You hastily look back down at your drink and shake your head, “Nothing… thank you so much for this, it’s delicious!”

then he grabs the shoulder of your chair to lean toward you, “Of course, mama, but I don’t think you’re being completely truthful with me, hm?”

You look at him, playfully shaking your head again, knowing full well you’ve been caught.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, hm? dime.” He puts the smoothie into the cup holder to free his other hand, placing it on your thigh, and softly squeezes it. “Just say the word, and you’ll get anything you want.”

Your lips curl slyly as you think of a response.

“Well… we never did cardio.”

Now you were here in his car, being bounced on his fat dick on the passenger seat, holding onto his his big shoulders for dear life. You were basically his fleshlight at this point… with those big hands.

You could feel his body now taut against yours, your tits bouncing relentlessly, his muscled, thick thighs below your ass, his balls slapping against your pussy lips, his bush tickling your clit, his pelvis pushing your ass up and his curved belly against your front side. It all was sending you into euphoria.

With you vigorously bouncing on his cock and his beautiful moaning, you fully let go. “Aw yes, Daddy,“ you mumbled without thinking.

In fact, you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was this fat cock and your pussy was memorizing all its veins and curves.

“Mmfuck baby, yea, say that again f’me”, he groaned through gritted teeth as he mercilessly bounced you down his painfully hard shaft.

“Please, Daddy, please!” You whined with your hands desperately seeking support on his big shoulders.

You can feel the sheet of sweat on his belly and on his thighs, which turned the smacking of your ass sound even more lewd.

“Fuck, say it again.” He growled, getting faster now.

“Mmmm, Daddy— Daddy, pleaseeee.”

“Louder, baby, c’mon—“

“UNGH DADDYYYY”

“Oh FUCK… you wanted cardio, baby, I’ll give you cardio… fuckin’ take it… coño.” Your panting became synchronized with every pound of his cock into your abused and bruised cunt, getting higher and higher in pitch, firing him up to go faster and harder.

“Gonna cum on this fat cock, right? Gonna cum f’me, mami?” He ordered, dropping octaves from his usual gentle tone with you.

“Mmmnn, Nnyesyyesyesyes—“ you babbled, the shakiness of your voice the result of the aggressive bouncing.

“Ah… carajo…” his cock accidentally slips out from your cunt, making you wince from the sudden empty sensation, “ungh!”

Holding up your ass, he takes a moment to admire the view, hissing from the sight of his angrily red cock and veins pulsing from your cunt sucking him in so deliciously. A ring of your cream erotically placed at the base of his length, just above his perfect bush. He guides his fat tip back to your dripping cunt using his thumb, pushing it back into your swollen folds.

He was back to ramming into your abused cunt in no time, chasing each others high’s.

“C’mon…fuck, c’mon, mama, you’re almost there…. Aw f-fuck… almost there…” he moans with his brows knitted and through a clenched jaw.

“Daddy I’m g’na— I’m cummingimcummingimcumming—“

“Aw, fuck, asi— asi mami— ah, ah…” Miguel holds back choked whines as he get closer, not allowing himself to let go until he knew you came first.

You speak in gibberish before crying into your climax, Miguel letting out a long, exasperated groan when he reaches his. You can feel his hot cum overfilling you, making you whine as it leaks down your thigh.

After draining himself completely, making sure every drop was in you, he gently pulls out, “Fuck… you did so good for me, mama… so good.”

Miguel lets you rest against his heaving chest and soft belly, rubbing your back as you caught your breath. You smiled a tired smile when you notice how hard Miguel is breathing as well, knowing you worked him out, too.

“You ok, mamita?” He plants a tender kiss on your shoulder, making a trail up your neck and finally to your forehead.

“Mhm,” you hum, you look up at him and are met with his plump, wet lips, tongues becoming entangled with each other as he groans into your mouth.

“I say… we do cardio like this every day.”

A/n: Haiii, I hope u liked it <3 Love my man sm <3 None of my gym baes could ever compare to himmmmm😭😭😭

@angel-of-the-moons Ty Ty Ty my luv for planting the seed in my head <3

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

#I’d never skip the gym ever again #I’m doing cardio w him 24/7 idc #dadbod!miguel #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spider man 2099 #atsv #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel atsv #miguel o’hara atsv #spider man atsv #miguel smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o'hara blurb #miguel o’hara fan fiction #miguel o’hara fanart #miguel fanfic #miguel fic #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel 2099

[fortheloveofleon]

BABY FEVER

⊱ Pairing: Yandere!Miguel x Reader

⊱ Summary: Miguel misses the joys of being a father. He just wants you to understand the happiness a child can bring — even if he has to make you…

⊱ Contents: 18+, Yandere!Miguel, Mean!Miguel, Dark Content, Baby Trapping, Dubious Consent, Smut, BDSM (Bondage), Rough Sex, Choking, Breeding Kink, Blood Kink, Creampie, Slight Hint to a Mommy Kink At The End

You’re laid up on this lavish bed, sore hands clasped above your head in a pair of metal handcuffs. The tough material is etching into your skin, chafing and nipping each time Miguel thrusts into you.

“‘Guel,” you slur out his name, a shuddery breath escaping as he grinds into you harder, “s’ too much, I-I’m sorry.”

An angry mess towering over you, Miguel scowls at your pathetic begging. Silent but seething, the taller man merely runs his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, panting as he reaches down to grasp your face with his large hand.

Eyes locking with yours, Miguel draws his slick-stained cock all the way out of your tight cunt, just until his tip remains — then he pushes back in, hard and fast, earning a loud cry from you.

The mix of hurt and pleasure is a dangerous one, a welcomed warning that hums through your body as his speed of his thrusts pick up again.

Miguel doesn’t really care that he might be hurting you right now — quite frankly, he’s hoping you were in a bit of pain.

You deserved it.

You were such a slut, throwing yourself at all the other guys at Headquarters. He should’ve known better than to let other men get that close to you.

But of course — Miguel was insane, and delusional.

You had nothing done nothing of the sort, but only made the innocent mistake at smiling. A mere smile at Peter whilst playing with Mayday was enough to drive Miguel to this state.

He’s always been protective, obsessive, Miguel can’t even deny it.

“Ungrateful. Fucking. Whore,” he hisses, each word enunciated with a heavy surge of his hips — white fangs are bared as he leans in closer to you, breathing out a laugh at your dazed form. Tough hands find a home around your neck, clutching.

The grip is a reminder, a threat of what could always happen.

But it’s for your own good. How could a sweet girl like you survive in a big, bad world like this without him?

Your fingers grasp helplessly at his forearms as black dots speckle your vision. Eyes rolling back into your head, hiccuped moans pulse from you as his shaft slams in and out of you.

“I’m…” you choke out as a familiar syrupy warmth begins to tremor from your lower half, “I-I’m gonna…”

Your sentence is incomplete, stuttering to a close, yet it���s whole to Miguel — he knows what you need. You’re merely a finger stroke away from cumming your fucking brains out.

Miguel latches his mouth onto the side of your bruising neck, sharpness pinching your skin when he finally bites down. A sickening blend of pain and euphoria surges through you.

It’s like you hit Cloud Nine — you’re panting, whimpering, back arching and cunt clenching as your orgasm builds and breaks. Sweet, sweet ecstasy fills every ounce of you, and you can feel it so hard, it’s like you’re choking more from the pleasure than his palms.

A tangy metallic taste coats Miguel’s tongue and he can’t help but moan out with you at the taste. “Ha…mi corazón…”

A throaty chuckle vibrates against your skin as Miguel suckles at the bleeding marks, lips leading to press wet kisses. His thrusts have grown sloppy, greedy as he wants to find his own end.

The length of his cock is barely leaving your cunt, hips rolling rapidly with little rhythm as he grunts and groans.

All he wants is you.

The feeling of his body on yours snaps you of your daze as a daunting realisation comes to mind.

“Wait!” you rasp out, jiggling the cuffs above your head. “Guel, y-you need to pull out.”

Chest heaving, Miguel pauses, cock still buried deep inside you. Posted above, caging you in between his forearms, wordlessly questioning you.

“You’re not…you’re not wearing a condom,” you breathe out quietly, carefully. “You need to pull out.”

Miguel is silent, staring.

His fingers slowly brush away the damp hairs sticking to your face, rubbing his thumb over your plump lips, almost like he’s trying to remember it’s shape through touch alone.

If love had a taste, he thinks, it would be your mouth.

He kisses you, soft and gentle, and you can’t help but melt. Pulling away, Miguel cups your jaw. A ghost of a smile lingers, but refuses to show.

Sometimes, Miguel tries to consider the lengths of his obsession with you — where it stemmed from, how it started. He could never find a straight answer. But there was one undeniable truth.

Miguel is irrevocably in love with you.

He’d only accept death if you were the one holding that knife.

Miguel is in love. But he can’t say it. The last time he showed he was capable of loving something, the universe took it from him.

But he didn’t need to say anything… he could show you.

His voice is low as he shakes his head and speaks, eyes boring into yours. “You, are going to make a great mother.”

And God, the way your eyes widened could’ve killed him right there.

Without warning, he drives into your heat faster than ever, frantic and filled with a purpose once more.

“Miguel, please wait!” you whimper out.

The headboard bangs and creaks, slamming against the wall as fucks you faster than before. Every nerve of yours is aflame, overstimulated from the wave of your orgasm. Your mouth is agape, eyes tearing and Miguel only looks down with hooded eyes, smirking before a chuckle breaks from his throat.

“You’re mine,” he hisses out, hands groping your hips, plunging his cock deeper.

Miguel’s laughter mixes into a moan, soft but spiteful, filling and fucking you until he slams into you one final time, choked groans unravelling as he finally spills into you.

You twitch beneath him in that moment, legs shaking. He shifts, steadying himself so he doesn’t crush you beneath his weight. A few silent seconds pass, filled only with the sounds of your heavy breathing.

Like a cat, Miguel nuzzles into your neck, nipping at your skin before unclasping the cuffs, throwing the metal away. Heavy arms snake around your body, holding you captive once more. He kisses your neck.

“So,” he breathes out, “did I make you feel good…mommy?”

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel fanfic #miguel smut #marvel au #miguel x reader #dark content #miguel o’hara x you #yandere miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel fan fiction #miguel x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction

[whaddayadothatfor]

Eucteniza relata

Summary: After catching Miguel in the act, you realize you’re trapped in his web. Miguel, tired of your smart mouth and disobedience, has a bone to pick with you.

Content warnings: dub-con humiliation, spanking, dom/sub dynamics, faux!vampire!Miguel because I’m obsessed

AN: This man is an asshole, y’all. Yummy. This is also so so nasty. Did anyone watch The Invitation?? Remember the scene with the door? Those that get it, get it. Anyways, I hope y’all like it! Oops and before I forget, there will be a third and final part. See ya!

Taglist: @quaintii @sunflowercandie @villainarc-2 @battinsonwhore05 @friendly-reject @baker-and-fangirl @cynicallyaestetic @alnmpt

MDNI

This is the second part to Ctenizidae! Check it out here if you haven’t read it yet: Part 1

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Miguel lifts you up, holding your hips in his hands. He trails his fangs from the base of your neck to that sensitive spot right beneath your ear lobe.

He bites down gently, just enough to draw both blood and a whimper out of you. He tugs your hair back so he can do want he wants without interference, kissing and sucking and biting as he pleases, paying no mind to your choked-back moans.

When he’s had enough, he moves to whisper in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

“You know, I’ve had just about enough of that mouth of yours—“

“My m-mouth has done nothing to you.” Miguel grabs your cheeks and smooshes them together, making all your words slur together.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” he groans, his head tilting upwards in exasperation. “You never know when to shut up, you always have something to say.”

You glare at him. You want to say something, but then you’d prove his point. He continues, sparing no attention to your restraint. Rude. Well then, if he’s just going to ignore you anyways, why bother?

“Y’know I have a reputation to uphold—“

“That sounds like a personal problem.” He glares at you, and you remember the position he has you in. Caged in between him and the wall, stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“It’s about to be your problem.” He lifts you easily over his shoulder and carries you across the room, dumping you unceremoniously onto the bed. “I think you need to be taught a lesson.”

As he sits down, you scramble over to the head of the bed, but Miguel grabs your ankle and yanks you back.

“Oh no, you don’t get to run. C’mere.” He manhandles you over his lap. You struggle against him, but it only works against you, like a spider’s prey working itself deeper into the web. Miguel is relentless and patient. He holds you down with one hand, waiting until you tire yourself out.

“Are you ready now?” At your silence, he continues. “Here’s what you’re gonna do: you’re going to take this spanking, like a good girl. And afterwards, you’re gonna say thank you.”

“This is ridiculous—“ You hissed after Miguel slapped your thighs, one after another in quick succession.

“I wasn’t finished. Be quiet.” He rubs the warmed skin gently before continuing. “You really have a problem with talking back. I think being on your knees will fix that. But first—“

He peels off your jeans but leaves your underwear, just enough that you ass was fully exposed. You feel like a schoolgirl getting paddled in the principal’s office. It is humiliating.

He groans, deep and guttural as he gropes your ass. “Dios mío, este culo.”

“Wait, hold on—“ He doesn’t. He strikes your right cheek, then your left. He does it over and over, in the same spot. He doesn’t stop, not when you arch your back, nor when you’re flailing your legs or even when your soft cries turn into low moans. “I can’t, Miguel. Please.”

He pauses. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying yourself, princesa.” He squeezes in-between your thighs and drags his two middle fingers across your slit. “Not when the evidence is dripping from your thighs.”

He shows you just how you enjoyed his attention by shoving his fingers into your mouth.

“Suck.” He fucks your throat with his long, thick fingers, making you gag and drool around them. “Good girl. Now I’m going to give you something bigger to choke on. Get on your knees.”

“No, Miguel. If you think I’m going to suck your dick like this, you’re insane.” You refuse adamantly.

“You just love to argue, huh baby?” Miguel just shakes his head. “Or maybe you just like being forced to do what you’re told. Either way, it doesn’t matter.”

He manhandles you once more, rearranging you until just your head hangs off of the bed. “I know just what you need.”

#marvel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #fem!reader #smut #fanfic #fan fiction #spider man x reader #y/n #oscar isaac #oscar issac smut #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 smut #oscar issac characters

[sinnah8]

If universes aligned

pairing: Miguel o hara x Spidergirl!reader

Prompt: Miguel falling for Spidergirl!reader and being a complete simp for her whenever she is around him

a/n: I got this request from alathan13 ty! I added a bit of a twist. send me some requests!!!

Masterlist | ask

Miguel was stuck in a different dimension because of Lyla. The prototype for the watch worked but she couldn't get him back. So he decided to find a Spiderman and that's when he met Y/n Spider girl.

He couldn't stop thinking about Y/n once he came back after being with her for a month and getting to know her. Miguel knew he had to find a way to confess his feelings to her, even though the odds seemed against him.

One day, as fate would have it, Miguel managed to track down a dimensional rift that led him to y/n universe. Determined to seize the opportunity, he mustered up all his courage and entered the portal.

Emerging in a world unfamiliar to him, Miguel found himself in the heart of the city where y/n patrolled. He awaited her arrival As soon as she appeared Miguel's heart skipped a beat.

"Y/n!" he called out, his voice filled with a mix of anticipation and hope.

Y/n paused mid-air, looking around to locate the source of the voice. Her gaze fell upon Miguel, and recognition flickered in her eyes. Descending gracefully, she landed in front of him.

"Miguel? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice tinged with surprise.

Taking a deep breath, Miguel gathered his thoughts. "Y/n, I traveled across dimensions to be with you. The first time I saw you, I knew there was something special about you. Your strength, your bravery, and your unwavering commitment to justice... they've touched me in a way I can't describe."

Y/n studied him intently, her masked eyes revealing a mix of curiosity and confusion. "Miguel, this is unexpected. We come from different worlds, different realities. How can this be?"

Miguel's eyes met hers "I don't have all the answers, Y/n. But what I do know is the connection I feel towards you. I've fallen for you, and I can't ignore these emotions any longer. You inspire me to be a better person, to fight for what's right. I want to be by your side, no matter the challenges we may face."

y/n remained silent for a moment. "Miguel, this is a lot to take in. Our lives are intertwined with dangers. But I can't deny how I feel about you, even across dimensions. there's a reason our paths have crossed."

Hope surged through Miguel as he heard her words made him feel seen and understood. Y/n raised her hand to his cheek and kissed him on the lips knowing what she was doing was wrong but she didn't care.

#spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o hara #2099 #2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #marvel #marvel fan fiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfiction #2099 fanfic #into the spider verse

[beabidobi]

oohooo i saw you asked for ideas

i had this mig x civilian reader where the readers like rlly affectionate and hugs miguel a lot whenever he comes home and is physically affectionate

but like one day maybe through peter or lyla or someone she gets to know miguel normally finds physical touch annoying and she feels guilty

so she doesn’t hug him when he comes home and he’s like ???? but she’s reluctant to do anything for fear of making him uncomfortable or annoyed at her and it goes on for a while and mig is not afraid he’s done something because the only person he truly loves to be physically affectionate with now isn’t doing anything with him

and it’s all resolved because they communicate like good adults 😭😭

ahhh I love this

f!reader x miguel o’hara (although no pronouns are used I don’t think)

warnings: literally just fluff, teeny tiny sprinkle of angst

You’ve always been a very affectionate person, often wanting to be close to your loved ones as much as you can. Especially your partner Miguel, who you’d give most of your affection to. Kissing his cheek whenever you get the chance, sleeping against his chest and greeting him at the door with a hug whenever he arrived home. He’d return your hug everytime, which you always thought wasn’t just for your own benefit, but for his too. It came a bit of a shock when Peter mentioned he hated physical touch, finding it annoying and a waste of time.

While Peter was showing you pictures of Mayday being reluctantly held by Miguel, you were mostly tuning out his waffling until you catch him say, “But it’s Miguel, he hates people touching him.”

You already knew he could be quite distant sometimes, but you never thought he didn’t like your touchiness. You never once thought it was making him uncomfortable or annoyed, but maybe it was. “He does?”

“Have you met the man? He avoids it like it’s the plague. Apparently it’s a waste of his time.” Peter replies and goes back to scrolling through his photo album of Mayday.

After a long day of saving the multiverse, Miguel was ready to go home to his partner. Ready to indulge in your sweetness and love, which you were always eager to give. So when he arrived home and didn’t hear your footsteps rushing to greet him, he was concerned.

“Amor?” He calls, walking to the living room where your sat on the couch reading a magazine. [Love]

“Hey, how was work?” You ask, glancing up from the book.

Either he’s done something wrong or you’re upset about something else. “Same as usual, are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’m good. Do you want pizza tonight?” You didn’t seem mad at him, but then again you rarely were so he couldn’t tell.

“Sure, I’m going to get changed.” He says, disappearing into the bedroom. He changes into sweats and checks around for something he may have done. You were stocked up on toothpaste, he’d made his side of the bed, he’d even closed the toilet seat.

Miguel returns back to the living room, sitting on the couch next to you, fully expecting you to come and snuggle up to him or sit on his lap, as you usually do. But nothing. You acknowledge he’s there but make no movement.

“Did you order the pizza yet?” He asks.

You simply nod, “Yeah. Did you want something else?”

“No, I’m fine.”

He’s far from fine. He’s sure he’s on the verge of going insane at the distance between you two. “Do you want to watch a movie?” He asks, knowing you always like to lay on his chest when you both watch tv together.

“Sure.”

An hour later, the movie credits were rolling and you were still on the opposite side of the couch. You’d eaten and talked to him, but still didn’t come closer and it was killing him.

The final straw was when you both went to bed. You always slept with your head on his chest or spooned against his back with your legs entangled with his, but once again you made no effort to lie in his arms.

“Mi amor, what are you doing?” He asks, lips turned downwards in a frown. [My love]

“I thought we were going to sleep.” You reply, equal confusion written on your face.

“No, I mean why are you not touching me?” He asks, a rare vulnerability in his voice. “Did I do something?”

“What, no!” You exclaim, confusing him even further.

“Then what’s wrong?” You could’ve started bawling at the expression on his face. He truly thought he’d done something wrong, eager to fix it.

“You haven’t done anything, it’s just that, well, I was talking with Peter and he mentioned that you hate physical touch and I was worried you found me overbearing or clingy.” You explain.

“Peter.” Miguel scowls and his voice grows soft as he reaches to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Cariño, you should never listen to that idiot.” [Honey]

“So you don’t hate it?” You ask, relief rushing through you.

“Well, I do, but I’ve never hated it with you.” He says, continuing when your eyebrows furrow. “I’ve always disliked any touch because it’s not comfortable for me, that’s until I met you. I don’t think I can live without your touch, in fact I don’t want to. So can we please go to sleep, with you in my arms?”

You smile softly and nod, “Sorry for being silly.”

He shakes his head, smiling and pulling you into his arms. “Don’t apologise. Moral of the story, don’t listen to anything Peter says.” He grins, dropping a kiss to your head. “Te amo.” [I love you]

You laugh softly, returning the words before drifting off to sleep. “Love you too.”

reqs open!! ♡︎

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #fanfic #miguel x you #fan fiction #my fic #fic writing #oneshot #fluff #in love with miguel o’hara #atsv miguel #spider man 2099 #x reader #fiction #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #request #reqs open

[blackleatherjacketz]

If you are taking reqs for fics, you should totally do one where reader is sore from training or something else(😏) and Miguel offers to massage readers legs, in which turns into him eating reader out!

Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader

Summary: Miguel insists on helping you stretch out your hamstrings.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Mature Content, Mutual Pining, Sassy Miguel, Persuasion, Power Dynamics, Dom Miguel, Touch-Starved Reader, Avoidant Reader, Thigh Stretching, Thigh Riding, Thigh Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Miguel Using His Nose *Creatively*

Word Count: 1.7k

Notes: I hope you like this, Nonny! It got a way from me a bit:)

Read my other MIGUEL stories!

“You’re doing it wrong.” His voice is slick like oil as it spreads through the air and into your ears, coating you in its deliciously dark warmth as he approaches you from behind.

“Oh really?” You keep your palms pressed against the wall as that warmth intensifies, stretching the muscles in your calf as you feel the heat from his breath reach the back of your neck. “How so?”

“You’ve been groaning every time you stand up from your chair.” The weight of the mat beneath your feet shifts and bends with each step he takes toward you until he stops just a few inches short, inhaling a little longer than normal before speaking again. “That stretch isn’t going to help your hamstrings any.”

“No?” You keep your back to him, switching legs before continuing your usual stretches to ease your well-earned muscle pain. “Maybe my calves hurt, did you ever think about that?”

“I can help with those, too.” That dark, inky tambre oozes itself around your body, dripping down your torso and into your core as his words blow a few strands of hair away from your shoulder.

It’s only a matter of seconds now before he touches you, before that black abyss takes you under completely; rendering you helpless against his charm that you’ve been trying to ignore these past few weeks. Those innocent looks he stole from you across the room had quickly morphed into longing gazes that kept you up at night, spurning a fire inside that could only be stoked by one thing. You wonder if being submerged in this desire with him is something that could put this flame out for good; or if succumbing to your primal urges would only ignite this chemical reaction into a combustion impossible to recover from.

“By mansplaining my own stretches to me?” You bring yourself out of your own head and lean further into the wall, extending your muscle in a slow, aching release as he stands still behind you.

“I’m not…” he trails off, backing away only slightly. “I’m not mansplaining.”

“Really?” You finally turn to face him and notice that instead of his usual red and blue suit, he’s wearing shorts and a tank top to match your own. A fresh stain of sweat dampens the worn down collar that stretches across his muscular chest, testing your resolve even further as you try to keep your cool with a casual wink. “What would you call it then, huh?”

You turn to walk away from him, stopping only as he instinctively grabs hold of your arm in a quick attempt to keep you near. He steals another glance, stalling your departure with a gentle tug back in his direction, only this one lasts a little longer than those before it. This one allows you to see the varying colors of red, brown and black in his eyes as they carefully study your face, matching the color of that dark, salacious fluid that reaches the very tips of your toes and glues your feet to the ground.

Uh oh.

Now you’re sinking.

“You’re touching me,” you point out, glancing down at his hand before looking back up at his gorgeous face.

“Do you want me to stop?” The boldness of his question forces you to inhale as his fingers encircle your wrist, his calloused fingertips sending a rush of warmth up your arm as they gently pull you in even closer.

Well, do you?

“No,” you whisper, barely able to recognize your own voice as the word allows him to trace his way up your forearm. “No, I don’t,” you clarify.

“Then what do you want?” He asks again, his voice dropping an octave as it vibrates in his chest.

You shiver in silence as his thumb nestles into the crook of your arm, grazing back and forth over its delicate skin like a pendulum, raising the tiny hairs on your skin as he awaits your answer. His lips are closer than they’d ever been before, full and parted as you allow him to alter your center of gravity with another gentle pull. You’re close enough now to smell his sweat as it mixes in with the sandalwood of his cologne, that intoxicating concoction making it that much harder for you to resist sinking down any further.

“I want you to touch me.” You finally give in, figuring you have nothing left to lose with his breath now hot on your cheek. “I want you to keep touching me.”

“Good,” he smirks as if that’s all he’s been waiting for, nodding his head toward the space behind you. “Now get on the mat, flat on your back.”

Like one of his new recruits you follow his orders blindly, surrendering to this inevitable seduction as you cautiously lay down at his feet.

“Now, I know you’re allergic to accepting help from anyone else, but you’re holding back when you stretch, you know that?” He wastes no time in taking your foot into his hand before pushing your leg up toward you, straightening it out just enough to make you wince. “That’s why you’re still groaning every time you stand up.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” you laugh, trying to ignore his pelvis as it presses against you, stretching your inner thigh out even more than you were capable of doing by yourself. You groan again as he pushes your body to its limit, his palm snug against your calf as he extends it up to the level of your head, pinning your opposite thigh in place with his hip. You hiss as a sharp pain quickly follows, shooting its way up the synapses of your largest muscle as he continues to splay you apart.

“Miguel,” you stifle a whimper as he grins, a glint of his fangs showing as that pain burns its way through the rest of that muscle group.

“Oh, it’s gonna hurt before it feels better, mami,” he goads, stretching you out even further as his pelvis grinds against yours, the evidence of his arousal more than damning.

“I know, I just…” You pause as the expression on his chiseled features changes from playful to knowing, his endlessly dark eyes glancing down at your junction before looking back up at your face.

“You’re soaking wet.” He keeps his hand on your leg while snaking the other between you two, testing the polyester layer of your shorts for the moisture that you both know is there.

Words fail as your jaw falls open in disbelief, that smug look on his face interrupted only by a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes as he touches you.

“I know you’ve been trying to hide it for as long as you can, mami.” He rubs your swollen lips up and down over the cloth, forcing that all encompassing heat to burn like molten hot lava deep inside your core. “But I can smell it on you the second you walk into a room; the change in your hormones, the sweetness of your sweat, and even this.”

You moan pathetically as he pulls your shorts to the side, sliding his fingers beneath them to collect your juices and spread them up and down your length. “No panties either, huh? Turns out I was right about you.”

“Jesus, Miguel,” you plead, grasping onto his forearm just to make sure that he stays close enough to keep kindling your flame.

“Your body’s never gonna lie to me about what it wants.” He leans down and pushes his fingers inside of you, grinning against your ear as you nod helplessly in agreement. “No matter how hard you fucking try.”

He presses his thumb against your clit while kissing his way down your neck, shoulder and knee as he continues to hold your leg in its prolonged stretch. His hungry lips leave a delicious trail down the bottom of your thigh that grows more sensitive as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your burning desire with such delicate ease only he could bring forth.

“There’s no way you’re gonna relax enough for this stretch to work,” he teases. “Not like this, anyways.”

He kisses the skin around your hips, releasing his grip on your leg just enough to let it fall onto his shoulder as he lowers himself down your body. “Now, if only there was a way I could get you to relax...” He looks up at you with nearly blackened eyes, reminding you of that onyx slick as it mixes with the sparks and embers his fingers send into your core before he licks a stripe up your dripping wet center.

Without another word, he parts your folds with his nose before tasting your inner layer, savoring the mere taste of your scent as he rubs his face all over it like a warrior with his paint. He allows himself to get lost in your unique flavor, marking himself with your sex as he all but forgets to hold onto your thigh as his tongue traces over every inch of your lower lips. His mouth encompasses you entirely as his fingers continue to work inside you, pumping spark after spark of pleasure up into the molten core of your body before drenching your swollen bud in his sensual spit.

You find yourself running your fingers through his auburn locks as he takes your clit between his teeth, licking and sucking on it with eyes fixated only on you as your hips rock in tandem with the rhythm of his wrist. His fingers pound deep inside you as he hums against your bud, brushing against that bundle of nerves until that flame inside you finally bursts into an eruption of ecstasy you’d never even thought possible. Every nerve in your body ignites in a series of blissful explosions, catching fire the more he devours your raw flesh until you’re crying out and violently shaking beneath him, completely combusted.

That pain in your thigh seems to disappear entirely as a healing wave of warmth coats your skin and muscles, vibrating in your bones as he moans his approval into your well spent sex with one last lick.

“I think that oughta do it.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fan fiction #marvel #spiderman 2099

[melodygatesauthor]

Miguel O’Hara - Random Horny Thot #2 - Cock Worship

NSFW

----

You are a slave to Miguel’s cock. It’s that simple.

There’s nothing you want more than to be on your knees, shoulders brushing his inner thighs while the delicious musk of his thick cock fills your nostrils. You’re salivating at the scent, bringing your face closer and feeling the soft skin of his still flaccid shaft against your lips.

You can feel the blood rushing through the veins just below the surface; hear the quiet breathy moan that leaves his lips. You dart out your tongue, flattening and gliding it over the length of him. It tastes like…him.

He’s getting harder with every pass of your tongue over the fat head of his (too big) cock. He’s brushing your cheek and telling you how much he loves the hungry look in your eye. He’s hoping that you’ll devour him, bringing his cock deep down your throat until you’re choking and gasping for air.

You do…of course you do. You are a good girl after all, or so he tells you. You’ve got your hands on both of his powerful thighs, holding on for dear life while you breathe in the smell of his pubic hair as it brushes against your nose. You love it. It feels soft and inviting, like you want to keep going in for more…and so you do.

Miguel sounds good, as if he’s never fucked a mouth like yours before. He fills the room with his rough, primal growls like you’d never heard. He thinks it feels good too, your little throat stretching out to make room for his thick cock. You’re crying now, eyes stinging with the tears that ruin the makeup you wore just for him. You know how much he likes making a disaster of your beautiful face, red lipstick streaking along his cock from your lips, mascara staining your cheeks.

“Mm, así cariño,” he says, brushing his thumb over your cheek affectionately.

When you can’t handle it anymore, despite how badly you want to, you’re taking both of your hands and wrapping them around his girth. One hand simply isn’t big enough to fit around him. So you’re stroking along his spit slick length, jerking him and rolling your tongue around the head of his cock. You notice the way his talons are digging into the wood on the arms of the chair.

When he comes it’s a fucking mess. He’s bucking his hips forward and spilling into your mouth, and when you’re so full you can’t take any more, it dribbles down your chin. Even after your mouth is full he’s still coming…and now it’s on your face, in your hair, and later you’ll see that somehow, a little bit got on the wall a few feet behind you.

And because you love his cock so fucking much, you still can’t stop yourself from kissing it while it softens, like you’re thanking it for feeding you, as if it’s your lifeline, because sometimes…that’s how it feels.

——

Any of my blurbs can be used as inspo for a fic. Please tag me for credit. Thank you!

Random Blurbs Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fan fiction #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fic #across the spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara blurb

[of-cauldrons-and-inkpens]

You Missed My Heart: PART 2

PART 1 LINK      |      PART 2 LINK      |      PART 3 LINK

Description: Miguel had died months ago. At least, my universe’s Miguel had died. Maybe I should have noticed when I could feel him touching me in my dreams, but grief is a hell of a thing. That is, until I woke up in a house that looked just like mine, but somehow different.

Miguel had taken me from my universe and put me in one where he could relive his past, whether I liked it or not.

Word Count: 11,305 

Author’s Note: I swear I re-wrote this three different times and all of them were drastically different. I checked for typos, but I’m posting this at four in the morning so there may be a few. 

Content Warning: smut, mild breeding kink, reader is being held against their will, dub-con (if you squint), piv, oral, unprotected sex; Miguel gets injured at one point; Miguel being manipulative and an ass, bit of angst (I mean his wife and child are dead so yeah)

Minors DNI! Story is below the cut

I groaned as I opened my eyes. My face was pressed in the crook between where Miguel’s ribs and arms would normally meet. He had moved me there in the middle of the night when I had managed to drift too far away from him. I had tried to squirm and protest, but I ended up caving before he would let go. I knew he was stubborn enough to pin me there out of spite and it wasn’t worth it.

Miguel was still awake somehow. It was dark in the room, save for the faint light that drifted through the curtains. Whatever time it was, it was either too late or too early for him to be up.

“Go back to sleep.” Miguel said. His voice was stern but gentle. I slid my hands down and grabbed onto the edge of the blanket. I hauled it upward, pulling it over my head. He let out a low chuckle as he watched me try to disappear.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Just after three.” He leaned down and pressed a quick peck against the blanket that covered the top of my head. “Get some sleep.” 

I glanced up at the gap between his chest and the blanket. Moonlight streamed through the window, painting his features in soft lines and shadows. He looked angelic. He was focusing on something in front of him, frowning and furrowing his eyebrows every so often. 

What was he doing?

I gently pulled down the blanket so that I could see what he was up to. 

Miguel was propped up on a pillow that leaned against the headboard. His eyes were focused on his hands, which were held out in front of him, spaced apart by about six inches, palm facing palm. Threads glistened between his fingers in the moonlight. His fingers were twisting and weaving new threads around the ones that lay between his fingers. The thin webs had been pulled from his spinnerets in his upper wrists. It was like watching someone play cat’s cradle.

One of his arms rested on my back. It didn’t hurt; it wasn’t even uncomfortable, but it did hold me in place, only allowing me the bare minimum of space for my chest to move as I breathed.

“You should go to sleep, too.” I said. I turned my head back and buried my face in his chest. He smiled, continuing to work. 

“I’m not tired.”

I glanced up at him. His dark eyes were beautiful like this. His face looked peaceful. I was too tired to see if he was lying or not.

“Have you gotten any sleep yet? Any at all?” I asked. He shook his head. 

“I’ll be alright. Just close your eyes.” 

I nodded, too tired to argue with him. I started to say something, but the words slurred together until I fell silent. Sleep pulled me in, welcoming me warmly. 

“I know, sweetheart.” He whispered, never faltering in his work. 

Something clattered to the floor downstairs, ripping me from my dream.

I winced, feeling the sun burn my eyes as it streamed in through the window. I tried to push myself upward, but I was overtaken with a dull ache in all of my muscles. 

Fucking hell.

It felt like I had been in a car crash. Every part of my body hurt. But, the most noticeable ache was between my legs. I swallowed hard as I pushed myself upward. I needed aspirin. 

As I moved, I couldn’t help but notice a divot in the bed on Miguel’s side. It was lined with sheets that had been ripped through. The hole was a decent size; roughly the size of a fist and a couple of inches deep. 

It hadn’t been there last night. At least, I hadn’t seen it there.

I slid my right hand over to touch the edges of the divot. It was the perfect size to accommodate Miguel’s hand. But why was it there?

I winced, feeling a sharp pain shoot through my body. If he was in a decent mood, I could ask him about it. If not, it didn’t really matter.   

I leaned over and grabbed the bottle of aspirin. As I moved, a faint twinkle caught my eye. I flipped my hand over. In the middle of the night, Miguel had slipped something around my ring finger. It was a thin band that had been braided from webbing and then tied off on the front of my finger with a small knot. 

Huh.

I tapped my thumb against the material, expecting it to stick to my finger in the same way that the web had stuck to my ankle last night. But this one didn’t. It had been worn smooth by his fingertips. The material looked almost silver in the early morning light. When I pulled my hand into the shadows, it looked almost like braided moonstone. 

I wasn’t sure whether to feel violated by the fact that he had placed a wedding ring on me in the middle of the night, or impressed by the precision it had taken to make it. 

I turned my hand back and forth, inspecting the thing from all angles. If I had known him for any meaningful amount of time, it would have been a sweet and loving gesture. 

I groaned. It was a gift from the man who had basically kidnapped me from my home, but still, I needed to take whatever nice gestures I could get, no matter how presumptuous. 

I unscrewed the cap and dropped several pills into the palm of my hand. I pushed the first pill into my mouth. As I went to swallow, I couldn’t help but notice the faint numbness that lingered on my bottom lip. It was in the exact spot that his fangs had nipped, either on purpose or mistake.

That’s… weird.

I swallowed the pill and then leaned down to touch my thighs. Bright red marks covered my legs, showing off his handy-work. I quickly slid my fingers along the skin… only to meet the same result. 

The skin was numb. It was almost impossible to move the half centimeters of flesh that had been ever so gently nicked. He hadn’t bit me; not really. Just a graze was enough to do that. 

Jesus.

I winced as I downed the second pill. Then I pushed myself up from the bed and made my way to the dresser. I needed something to wear. But, I wasn’t wearing more lingerie. It already hurt to walk; I needed time to heal before I wore anything close to that again. I sighed as I stepped across the room, looking for something to wear. Miguel had laid his sweatshirt from last night on the dresser. I was sure that he had left it for me after my complaint last night. 

Maybe it was a peace offering. Or maybe the sex had been the peace offering and this was just him being nice.  

I quickly pulled it on. It was long enough to cover my hips and a good part of my thighs. I quickly snagged a pair of underwear from the dresser and pulled them on, as well.

Downstairs, something else clattered to the floor. What the hell was he doing?

As I stepped into the hallway, I noticed the boxes that had been piled up outside of the yellow door. I flipped open one of the cardboard tabs. Inside lay my things. At the bottom of the box, I noticed the sleeve of one of my sweaters. He had brought me my things, just as he had said he would. Did he ever go to sleep last night?

I padded down the stairs, making my way to the kitchen with every step. I figured that that was where he was. He didn’t seem like the kind to just linger around the house, looking for some kind of mindless activity to fill his time. He seemed too serious for that. 

I stepped into the kitchen and was immediately greeted by an unexpected sight. He was standing in front of the stove, pushing around eggs in a skillet. The downstairs was cold from the winter air but he was still wearing only a thin t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

He was a portrait of domesticity. 

I watched him closely as I stepped into the room.

“I made breakfast.” He said. 

“Did you get any sleep?” I asked. I couldn’t help but notice that the shattered plate had been picked out of the sink and had been thrown into the trash. He turned to meet my gaze. The dark circles under his eyes told me everything that I needed to know. 

“Miguel, you need to go back to bed.”

“I’ll be fine.” He frowned as he pushed the spatula around in the skillet. “I made coffee.”

“Thank you.” I made my way toward the coffee pot that rested on the counter beside him. As I did, his eyes never left the stove. I reached for one of the coffee cups that had been laid out for me. As I did, I glanced back at Miguel. God, he looked tired. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” I asked. 

He scoffed. “I sleep perfectly fine.” 

“Okay then.” I muttered. Guess that was a touchy subject for him. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed the coffee pot. I filled the mug with the dark liquid. As I leaned forward to slide it back into its original spot, Miguel stepped to the side and pulled open the door to the fridge. Without missing a beat, he pulled out a container of creamer and handed it to me, then slinked back to the stove before the eggs had the chance to begin to brown. 

“Thank you.” I said. Warm light from the kitchen caught the ring, making it twinkle again. I considered asking him about it, but I decided not to. Surely he would bring it up if it was something that he wanted to talk about. 

A dark strand of hair fell across his forehead as he focused on the skillet. “Do you need any help?” I asked. 

He quickly shook his head. “What’s on your mind?” I wanted to get even a scrap of conversation from him; I needed some idea as to what he was thinking about. Maybe I should just leave him alone. Maybe he liked to exist in silence. I mean, if nothing else, he seemed used to it. 

“Work. How did you sleep?” He asked. 

“Okay, I guess.”  I added the creamer to my coffee and then returned the container to the spot where he had pulled it from. I carried my mug back to the counter, watching as he lifted the skillet off of the stovetop. I lifted the mug to my lips but then suddenly jerked it back. The glass was hot; it burned the skin of my lower lip everywhere except for the small spot in the center of my mouth. 

“Fuck!” I touched the skin and was met with a familiar numbness. 

Miguel dropped the skillet onto the stove and rushed forward. Within seconds he had cleared the area between the stove and the counter, moving so that he was standing directly in front of me. He towered over me, wasting no time to invade my personal space. “Sorry, I’m fine.” I said. I brushed my fingers along my lip, grazing the burned flesh and then the numbed skin. It felt weird and I didn’t like it. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Let me see.”

“It’s fine. I just burned myself.” He shook his head before reaching down and gently grabbing onto my chin. He pulled my head upward. My eyes met his for a moment before he turned his attention down to the mark on my mouth. 

“Move your hand.” He instructed. I did as I was told and dropped my hand down to the cold stone of the counter. 

“Miguel, I’m fine. I promise.” He didn’t believe me; I could tell from the deep line that had formed between his eyebrows.

“Open wide.” He instructed. His thumb slid across my lower lip. The touch was feather-light; almost too gentle, too caring. 

“Your face is red.” He remarked.

“This is demeaning.” The words slurred together as he inspected my mouth. 

“Is your lip numb?” His perfected vision could see the minute scrapes against my skin; tiny cuts that had been collateral damage in the excitement of the previous night. 

“A little bit.” He winced, but quickly fixed his expression before I could comment on it.

“It should wear off in a couple of hours. You weren’t actually bit so the effects shouldn’t be too bad. Just be careful not to hurt yourself.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

“What if you had bitten me?” I asked. He released my jaw from his hold. 

“That’s not something you need to worry about.” 

“But if it had… let’s say I’m someone else and you bit me, what would happen.” His face twitched. Something flickered behind his eyes as if he was considering it. His eyes didn’t leave my face.

“That’s not… no.” 

“Miguel, it’s a basic question. I barely know anything about you. If you’re planning on keeping me here, then I want to know-” he cut me off.

“And I said no. Damn it, why isn’t that enough for you? What are you wanting from me?” His voice was sharp and cold, like metal. Suddenly, the device on his wrist let out a low chirp. He glanced downward. 

He gave a low sigh. “I’ll get you a plate. You didn’t eat anything last night.” He turned and quickly began to mess with the thing on his wrist. 

I glanced down at the counter. A chorus of beeps came from his wrist as he worked. I gently slid my teeth against my bottom lip; the numbness was strangely fascinating. 

Without a word, Miguel sat the plate down in front of me. Steam drifted off the fresh eggs that covered the plate.

“Thank you.” He didn’t answer me. His eyes lingered on my face for a long moment before he leaned back against the countertop.

He rolled his hand around his wrist, moving his eyes between me and the device. “I have work to do today. But I restocked the fridge so there’s plenty for you to eat. Feel free to help yourself to anything you like. The TV in the living room works, as does the stereo. Most of your books should be upstairs, so you should have plenty to occupy your time.”

“Thank you.” I said. I stabbed a bright yellow piece of egg with my fork. “How long are you going to be gone?” I asked. 

“Are you going to miss me?” He paused, waiting for a response. I nodded, partly because I knew it was the right answer and partly because I thought I would, even if just a little bit. He smiled, proud of my answer. “It shouldn’t be too long. Just a couple of things to correct, then I’ll be right back.” There was something about the way that he said the word ‘correct’ that made me wince. He meant kill; I thought of the blood on his face and knew what he meant when he said he fixed things. 

“Is there anything you think you’re going to do today?” Miguel asked. He wanted to know my plans for the day. Well, gee, Miguel, I’ll probably stay trapped here. 

Then something occurred to me. I was the only person here and I knew more of what was going on now. There was no reason I shouldn’t be allowed to explore.

“Can I leave the house?” I asked.

“And where would you go?” It seemed ridiculous to him to even ask. Why would I ever want to leave when I could sit in an empty house all by myself and pretend I wasn’t his prisoner?

“Out.” I said. “Maybe walk around the block. Is there another block or does it stop after what I can see from the front stoop?” 

“There’s other blocks. But I don’t understand why you would want to leave the house.” 

“Fucking hell, Miguel.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. I turned my attention to the plate. He ground his teeth together for a moment. He was choosing to ignore what I had said. 

“If you need something to occupy your time when I’m gone, I’ll get you a pet.” That doesn’t replace the fact that I wanted to leave the house. I wanted to pretend that my life was normal, even if there was nobody in Nueva York anymore. I could still act as if things hadn’t changed. 

“Ah, a pet for your pet. Doesn’t that seem a bit redundant?” I muttered. That jab had been entirely intentional. 

It was true, though. I was a pet to him; maybe I received different forms of affection than the standard house cat, but the same rules seemed to apply. He would come and go as he needed; I was to stay where I had been placed, always ready and willing to entertain when he came back. 

He rolled his eyes as he leaned against the counter. He continued to poke at the device on his wrist. “I’m ignoring you.” I rolled my eyes as I continued to eat. 

“It isn’t fair to lock me inside of a house and never let me leave. You ever heard of cabin fever? I’m going to end up going insane in here.”

“I highly doubt that.” His hair bounced as he spoke. He was shaking his head at me while he messed with his device. 

“Miguel.”

“You’ll be fine.” He said it like it was the end of the discussion. Hell, it wasn’t even a discussion; he just kept saying no. 

“Come on!”

“Is there something you’re wanting to say to me?” His tone was harsh. 

“Yeah, you’re really pissing me off.”

“You’ll get over it. You always do.” 

“Just tell me why. If you think I’m going to run away then where would I even go? There’s nothing out there. So why?” 

“It’s for your own good. Just stay in the damn house.” I rolled my eyes as I took a sip of the cooled coffee. 

“You never fucking tell me anything and then you get pissy when I ask questions.”

“I am not being pissy.” He shook his head and muttered something under his breath. There was a long moment of silence between us. 

“Don’t call me pissy.” He muttered. He sounded more annoyed than actually angry. He almost sounded like an annoyed child. I had to fight back a laugh at how petulant he sounded.

A weird silence hung in the air. I began to eat, ignoring how he fixed his eyes on me. Though, any time I would look up to catch his stare, he would glance back down and fiddle with his wrist. 

"I really do believe that you could start to like it here. I think you just need time. Then, you'll start to warm up to me."

He brushed his hair off of his forehead and let out a low sigh. "You do love me. You just need time." He said the first part for me. He repeated the second part for himself.

I did love him, at least a little bit. Even if just for the fact that he looked so much like another version of himself; a sweeter version… a softer one. 

Maybe he was capable of being that way. Or, maybe he was too far gone. 

His eyes moved upward to meet mine and I felt a sudden wave of shame wash over me. 

"You look beautiful this morning." He said. 

“Miguel,” I asked. His features softened at the sound of his name. “Is there any chance that I’ll ever get to go home?” 

He winced. “If you go back to your timeline, one of two things could happen. Either time will find a way to correct itself and you will die or everything will collapse in on itself. If that happened, it would kill every single person you’ve ever known and billions more.” A bright light shone from his wrist. 

It was time for him to go. 

He let out a low sigh. “I don’t…” His voice trailed off. He looked down at the ground for a moment. “I can’t send you back to die. I won’t.” 

I guess that was my answer.

He stepped toward me. His face had softened. “I want you to be happy and safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” I didn’t reply. He moved closer, stopping only once our bodies were almost touching. 

I looked at him, unsure of what he wanted. He leaned down, placing a finger under my chin. It was the gentlest touch he could manage, yet it was backed with unfathomable strength. He lifted my chin up to meet his gaze.

“I love you. I’ll be back as soon as possible. Be a good girl for me. Okay?” I nodded. He pushed a quick peck against my lips before he walked off, heading toward the archway that connected the kitchen to the living room. Once he vanished from sight, I heard him begin to speak into his device.

A pink and orange light enveloped the living room; it was so bright that I winced. The light vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

Then, just like that, he was gone. 

I sighed to myself. Well, no time like the present. 

I pushed myself up, grabbed my coffee mug, and headed upstairs.

He would be gone for hours. There was no harm in exploring, especially since he wasn’t here to stop me. If he didn’t want to tell me anything, then I would have to find it out for myself. After all, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. 

I stared at the yellow door upstairs. Not knowing what was inside was going to eat me alive. I knew it wasn’t an office; Miguel didn’t stay here long enough to do anything but drag me around and then try his idea of a romantic gesture. Maybe it was a storage room, but even then he was entirely too cagey about the whole thing. He didn’t strike me as the kind of person to have some kind of mindless hobby. 

Maybe he was living out the story of Bluebeard and there was something macabre inside. Maybe there was something perverse inside. 

It didn’t matter; I had to know. 

I pushed several of the boxes out of the way. I slid them several feet to the left. I could just move them back when I was done and he would never know. Stepping forward, I reached out and grabbed the door handle. Then, I gave a firm twist. 

It was locked.

Damn it. 

Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? He’s the one who locked me up. He’s the one who said I couldn’t leave the house. He’s the one that did all of this in the first place. 

I couldn’t help but notice that the locks on my door and this door were different. This door was aimed at keeping other people out of the space; mine was aimed at locking me inside, like a princess in a tower. 

I needed some way to get the door open. I was sure that I would understand this all a little better if I could just figure out why he was so determined to keep this a secret from me. 

Then, I remembered my Miguel fighting with the floorboard in our bedroom. Before he embarked on his noble mission to defeat the squeaking sound, he had bought a case of beer and a new set of screwdrivers. If this version of him was so determined to make a perfect copy of my house, then he would have added the set.

I dashed to the hall closet and quickly pulled out the black plastic case that rested on the bottom shelf. Bingo! I plucked the screwdriver from the box and then walked over to the yellow door. I knew that with the old style of lock, I just needed to get the metal inside of the keyhole to move. If it moved, then the door would pop open with no issue. 

I slotted the screwdriver into place and then twisted hard. At first, it didn’t even flinch. Then, after a moment,  the lock groaned and then popped open. I quickly twisted the brass door handle and smiled as the door opened. I pushed the door open wide and then flipped the lightswitch. 

What the fuck?

The room was small. Every wall had been painted a soft yellow; it was a step up from the stark white that the original room had been. A small stuffed elephant lay in the middle of a crib that was pushed against the far wall. A framed ultrasound sat on the bookshelf. Little pieces of a life; of hopes and memories, all packed away to be forgotten.

None of this was from my timeline. In my universe, this was just his office. It was where Miguel would disappear to for most of the night after returning from work. After he died, I locked the door and pretended the room didn’t exist. When the men from Alchemax showed up to take the cardboard boxes filled with his work, I didn’t even have the courage to peek inside of the room. The room was the black hole in the house, eating away at any chance of sleep or happiness that I had. 

At least that was something this Miguel and I seemed to share.

I stepped into the small room, moving toward the bookshelf that rested against the far wall. The shelf was the only thing that looked familiar. 

A box rested on the bottom shelf. I quickly dipped down and pulled it free. I flipped the lid and discarded it onto the floor in front of me. The box was filled with small photos. Some were older than others, each faded and weathered to different degrees. I sunk down to the floor. I moved so that I was sitting criss cross. 

I reached inside of the box and pulled out one of the photos. The picture was weathered, but I could still make out a version of me staring up at him with an adoring gaze. She wore a wedding dress and he wore a suit. 

Jesus.

I sat the photo on the floor beside me and then reached into the box and fished out a small handful. I started to sift through them, viewing little pieces of Miguel’s life as I went. When I reached the last three photos, I stopped. They were pictures of Miguel holding a little girl. She was small and perfect, with his eyes and his smile. 

His child. 

I winced as I looked at the pictures. The last photo was of Miguel and I standing behind her. She was sitting in a small plastic highchair with a cake in front of her. On it, there was a glowing candle in the shape of a ‘1’. Miguel’s mouth was open in the process of saying something as I laughed. It was a moment that was frozen, giving him a small slice of time to keep when it all disappeared.

Fucking hell. I leaned forward and put the pictures back in the box. I didn’t want to look at this anymore. I felt my stomach flip as a wave of nausea overtook me.

However, as I leaned over, I spotted several more photos in the bottom of the box. But, I did know these pictures. I just hadn’t known that they had been taken. In two of the pictures, I was inside of the bookstore that I had worked at. They were pictures of me, taken in my universe. But, when did he take them? After my version of him died, I didn’t go back to work. I was lucky if I left bed most days. So these pictures were older than that. 

Suddenly, I became aware of the footfalls that came from the stairs. 

Miguel was home entirely too early. 

And I was still in the nursery. My head was still spinning from the pictures. I tried to make myself get up and frantically put the pictures back, but I couldn’t make my body move.

I heard him begin to make his way toward the bedroom. But, when he saw that the yellow door had been opened, he picked up his pace. 

I didn’t look back at him when he stepped into the doorway.

I didn’t want to meet his gaze.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” His voice was lined with rage. I stared at the wall. I could hear him swearing under his breath, his tone flickering between pissed to sad and then back again. I glanced back to look at him for a moment. His face was tight and his eyes burned red. 

“This was your office… I’m sorry, his office.” I lifted my hand upward to point at the wall with the small window. The window had been decorated with pink curtains. “His desk was against that wall.” I glanced to the side of the room and then pointed at the left wall. “He kept all of his boxes against the wall. I only ever went inside of the office once and that was when I heard him and my dad arguing about something. But I never… I never found out what it was.” The screaming had happened two days before Miguel died and I couldn’t help but wonder if the two things had been connected. 

“I just wanted to know what was in here. That’s all.” I said. "Are you planning on locking me in my room again?" I asked. 

"No."

The man stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost. His features softened as he watched me. He walked deeper into the room, moving so that he was standing over me. He sat down on the floor beside me. His large frame was only a foot away from me; close enough to touch, but not so close as to scare me. As he sat there, I was once again reminded of how his body had always dwarfed mine. His body was large enough to provide me with either the utmost care or utmost cruelty, depending on which Miguel I got. 

“You had a child?” I asked. 

He winced. “I did.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” My voice was little more than a whisper.

“No.” It was a sore spot for him. It was then that I noticed that he was focusing on the far wall, unable to meet my eyes. 

I was also a sore spot for him. 

I looked down at the floor as he began to speak again. 

“All I’ve ever wanted is to keep you safe.” He said. His face twitched. His eyes began to fade from red to brown. He was reliving all of his failures, past and present. 

“I understand.” I said. He let out a dry laugh. 

“But you don’t. You really fucking don’t. Do you know what it’s like to watch you die in every timeline? Every universe? Either before or after me, there you go. Either you burn to death or are crushed or get killed in a car crash or die in some freak fucking accident… and I’ve had to sit and watch.” 

He shook his head. Several dark strands of hair fell across his face. “I’m not a good man. I’ve done… horrible things.” I flinched at his words. I couldn’t tell if it was self awareness or just simple self hatred. “I just wanted a part of you that was entirely mine. A piece of you that I can love and… keep.”

He said the last part so casually. It was as if it was all just a part of the daily dysfunction of a man with a savior complex and the full power to act upon it. He had everything a man or god could ever want, except for the power of self control. 

What he had done was unfathomably wrong, but the smallest part of me could understand it. The only real difference between us was that he actually could do something about it; when I lost everything, I could only lay in bed and cry. 

However, there wasn’t enough money in any timeline to make me admit that to him. Telling him I understood his actions would only feed into the delusion that this was right… that this was inherently good. 

I nodded slowly as I took in his words. He leaned back against his arms. He pushed his hands against the hardwood as he looked around the room, as if reliving a memory. His face was crestfallen. 

My fingers brushed his. He flinched, but then gave into the touch. I slid my fingers on top of his, pinning his hand between my skin and the cold hardwood. He sat still for a moment, taking in the small crumb of affection. Then, he lifted his pinky, moving it so that it slipped on top of my ring finger. 

He glanced down at our hands. His eyes became fixed on the small ring; he was entranced at the fact that I hadn’t taken it off yet. 

Miguel opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly changed his mind. He closed his mouth, allowing for the silence to overwhelm us. 

We were both kind of pathetic. But, I felt especially so at how I still wanted some kind of closeness with him. 

I didn't want to be alone, even if the only option was with the crazy man. 

I glanced up. My eyes met his.

I leaned forward, moving so that my face was only inches away from his. The room was cold and I was sure that he could see the hard goosebumps that had formed on my skin. His eyes danced over my face before drifting down to my lips. He looked like he wanted to tell me something, but it was as if it was stuck. Whatever words he wanted to say wouldn't come out. 

I filled the last inches of space between us. Slowly, I pressed my lips against his. Our lips moulded together, fitting like puzzle pieces. He let out a low groan.

He pulled his lips away from me, giving me a chance to catch my breath.

He lay his forehead against mine. Then he whispered something that was so faint, I couldn’t hear most of it. But, I could have sworn that the last words were a soft "I’m sorry."

The next few weeks, we existed as ghosts. He barely spoke to me. On the rare occasion that he was home during the daytime, I would often catch him staring at me with a weird mixture of adoration and sadness. He was gone until late most nights. I had taken to crawling onto the couch and falling asleep there most nights. The house was too empty; too quiet. He wouldn’t come back until late and would then, without fail, haul me back to the bedroom. I would awaken every morning to a cup of coffee on the bedside table. He would squeeze my shoulder gently, though he was always gone by the time I opened my eyes. 

My head lay against one of the pillows that I had dragged downstairs from the bed. I sighed as I turned over. The couch wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just weird to try and sleep when there was no noise coming from outside. I had gotten so used to the sounds of the city lulling me to sleep. Now, I would toss and turn for hours until I would turn on the TV for some noise. 

I pulled one of the blankets higher up on my body. The house was freezing. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. 

Just after two.

Where was he? He usually came back around one or so. He was late. Time was ticking on and he was nowhere to be found. 

Damn it. I winced, realizing that I was actually worried about him. 

Suddenly, a bright light filled the first floor. I jerked upright, turning toward the kitchen. “Miguel?” I asked. I quickly pushed myself up from the couch and made my way to the kitchen.

"Miguel?" I repeated. I flipped on the light to the kitchen and saw him standing there. He was doubled over with one hand grasping the back of a chair. Blood dripped from his nose onto the faded tile below. 

"You need to go to bed." His voice was rough. I stepped deeper into the room, ignoring him. He let out a groan as he tried to pull on the back of his suit. He reached for something, but he couldn't grasp it. He dropped his head, trying to catch his breath. I stopped several feet in front of him.

Slowly, he lifted his head. Blood covered his bottom lip. His face was bleeding from a cut on his cheekbone. It was a gash that was slowly oozing dark blood. 

"Oh my God. Miguel!" I rushed forward, filling the distance. 

"It's not as bad as it looks. They’ll heal, they just need a bit of time.” He said. Blood ran down his jaw as he spoke. He looked bad; bad enough that, if he had been the other version of himself, we would have immediately been on the way to the hospital. 

There were several gashes that had managed to cut through his suit, exposing the skin beneath. 

Dear God, what the hell happened to him?

"Go away." He said. He waved his hand, motioning for me to do as I had been told. He leaned over the side of the counter. Bruises were blossoming on his tan skin, painting him in shades of blue and black. 

"Just let me help you. Are there any bandages in the house?" I asked.

"I don't need help."

"Miguel." 

"What?" His voice was harsh; his words lined with actual pain. 

"Stop being so damn stubborn and just let me help you." I said. I walked over the lower cabinet and pulled out a hand towel. I stepped back toward him, hoping that he would soften.

Instead, he scowled at me. "Go to bed. You're just working yourself up over nothing."  

"This isn't nothing." 

He rolled his eyes as he stepped forward. "I'm completely fine." His leg went out from under him. I tried to catch and steady him, but instead, we both tumbled to the ground below. 

I watched as several of the more superficial cuts on his body began to close. 

"Jesus, Miguel. What happened?" He shook his head as he pushed himself off of the floor. 

"It's nothing. That's why I didn't want you to see any of this." He paused. "What the hell are you even doing down here?" He grabbed onto the counter to steady himself. Part of me expected to see him break the counter under his fingers. 

I pushed myself off of the floor and rushed to his side. "Is there anything I can do?" I asked. He shook his head. 

"I'm going to clean up. Go to bed." He winced as he stepped away from the counter. Based on the way he winced as he touched his side, he probably had a cracked rib.

I couldn't imagine anything that was strong enough to do this to him. Unless it had been something, or several somethings, that were all exactly like him. 

"I'm going to help you." I said. I eyed one of the deeper bruises that covered the side of his jaw. He caught me staring at the dark mark. 

"They'll heal, I swear. I can heal relatively fast." He said. Fear tore through me. What if he was wrong? What if he was lying? He hadn't meant for me to see him coming home. He had fully intended on keeping this hidden from me, regardless of how badly he was hurt. "The worst ones are the cuts but even those will be fine in an hour or two."

I had already lost him once…

He glanced over at me. Fear swirled in my eyes as I watched him. Based on the way that his face twitched, I knew he could see it. 

He glanced down at the floor. Then, he leaned to the side and caught my arm in his gloved hand. His touch was gentle, but commanding.

"Come here." He instructed. I shifted toward him, moving until his chest was almost touching mine. I could hear his steady heartbeat and feel the warmth that was pouring off his skin. 

"I love you. I promise I'm okay." His voice was no more than a whisper. 

"Just let me help you." I said. He sighed to himself, giving in to my attempt at kindness.

The downstairs bathroom was quiet. Miguel was perched on the edge of the tub, watching as I leaned over the edge of the basin.

I turned the metal handles to the tub. Warm water spurted into the bottom of the tub. I watched as it began to pool at the bottom. Outside, I could hear the thunder boom. Rain beat against the roof of the house, filling it with the soft sound of water hitting 

"This isn't necessary. You should go back to sleep." He said. He pressed the towel to his face. Most of the blood had stopped flowing. 

"I wasn't asleep." 

"Why not?"

"The house is creepy at night. It's too quiet. I'm used to actual sounds from the city and there just aren't any here."

"I'm sorry." 

"It's fine." 

Soon, the tub was filled three quarters of the way. I leaned over and quickly turned off the flow of water. I straightened my stance and then looked back at Miguel. He offered a soft smile. A bruise blossomed just below his eye, though it immediately began to fade away. 

"I was really worried about you." I admitted.

"I'm okay."

"Are you?" I didn't believe him. He looked rough. It was as if he had been dragged through hell. It hurt to look at him too long. 

"This is all… purely superficial. I'll be better soon." I crossed my arms. Worry and fear covered my face; it was impossible to hide. 

"Sweetheart, there's nothing to worry about." His voice was like warm honey. He lifted his hand upward and motioned for me to come to him. Without question, I did. 

One arm gently curled around my waist. The other drifted upward to ghost the side of my face.

"I'm okay. This all just…" he sighed. He leaned his face forward and gently touched his forehead to my stomach. Warm skin pressed into my shirt. I could feel him slowly inhale as he breathed me in. Then, he lifted his face, peering up at me in the dim room. "This is just how it is." His voice was no more than a whisper. 

"You look tired." He said. He noticed the dark circles under my eyes.

"You're one to talk." He let out a humorless laugh.

His fingers slid across my cheek, wiping away a dark droplet that had landed on my skin. The material on his fingers was smoother than I had imagined. 

"You don't have to take care of me."

"Well, you don't seem to have any sense of self preservation. So if I don't, I don't figure you'll take care of yourself." I said. He looked at my face for a long moment. A soft smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

"No, that's not it. I think you care about me." Pride bubbled in his voice. I rolled my eyes. 

"Strip and get in the tub."

"Yes, Ma'am." He taunted. He winced as he reached backward again, tugging at the neck of the suit. His usual gracefulness was gone. He groaned, pulling at the back of the suit to no avail. 

"Are you okay?" I asked. He winced again as he tried to grab onto something that wasn't there. 

"I got hit earlier and I think the thing broke. I can't get it to move." His fingers worked over the material but it was no use.

"Here. Let me get it." I said. He stooped downward, moving so that I could actually grab onto the back of the material. He awkwardly leaned over as I pulled at the metal on the back of the suit. It looked like there had once been a zipper, but the tiny handle had been busted. Below it were several small clasps that had been bent down to cover the path of the zipper. 

"They really did a number on you." I murmured. I pushed my thumb under one of the clasps. I bent it forward, moving it so that I could see the path of the zipper. I did the same for the other pieces of metal that had become deformed. Then, I pinched what remained of the head of the zipper. I pulled the zipper downward, hearing him sigh softly when I unzipped the material between his shoulder blades. His skin spread out between my fingers, warm and slightly wet from sweat.

"There you go." I said. I released him and stepped backward. He should be good to go now. 

I watched as he effortlessly peeled the suit off of his bruised body. The bruises were changing in color, some getting darker as others began to fade before my eyes. 

He pulled the suit off of his arms, then down his muscular torso. As he reached his hips, I looked away, suddenly very aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing anything beneath the skin tight material. 

My face turned bright red. I looked at the door behind us, waiting for him to climb into the water. "You're blushing." 

"No, I'm… just get in the water." I heard him chuckle as he stepped out of the material. He crudely folded the material and then tossed it across the floor. It landed in a pile beside my left foot. I rolled my eyes. 

"Sweetheart, you don't have to look away from me." He said. I heard the water move as he stepped into the tub. I turned around, watching as he sank into the bath. 

I watched a dark bruise on his bare collarbone fade into his skin before disappearing. It was as if it had never been there to begin with. 

He was always full of surprises.

Miguel leaned back against the cold metal of the tub. Outside, lightning shot across the sky. It filled the room with a sudden white light. 

“I’ll clean up the floor in a little bit.” He said. The tiles in the kitchen and bathroom were stained and slick. In the dim light, the droplets on the floor looked almost black.

“No, you’re not. You’re going to go to bed after this.” I said. “And you’re actually going to sleep.” 

"That's what you think." He muttered. 

"Are you always this stubborn?” I asked. 

"Only for you, sweetheart." 

I grabbed a towel off of the counter and gently dabbed it against his cheek. His eyes focused hard on my face as I tried to tend to his fading wounds. He was attempting to read my features. I sat down beside the bathtub.

“Do I want to know what happened?” I asked. It wasn’t a playful or light question. He could hear the weight in my voice as I cleaned his face. 

“You wouldn’t like me anymore if I told you.” It was such an honest comment that I could tell it pained him. If I knew what he did when he was away, then any chance of me loving him would vanish.

Maybe it was best that I didn’t know. 

"Are you in any pain?" I asked. He shook his head. 

Steam from the tub drifted upward, clinging to his strong chest in thick beads.  

"Why have you been ignoring me for the last week?" I asked. His face tensed.

"I haven't been."

I scoffed lightly as I gently wiped his face with a towel. "And you said I was bad at acting." 

"I've had a lot on my mind." He said. I nodded slowly. 

"You can talk to me." I said. He offered a faint smile. He couldn't, because it was most likely about me. 

"Are you mad at me?" I asked. He shook his head. 

"No, I promise." I looked down at the tile floor. I didn't know what to say to him. Something weird hung in the space between us.

Suddenly, his voice cut through the cold air. 

"Get in with me." He said. 

"What? No." I said. He furrowed his brow. He hadn't expected me to refuse. 

"Why?" he asked. 

"Because you're wounded and I don't want to hurt you."

He let out a low laugh, almost as if he was mocking me. "Believe me, it's impossible for you to hurt me. Now be a good girl and get in the tub."

"You know I'm not your pet, right?" He smirked at my words. A pet was exactly what he considered me to be; maybe a darling pet that he seemed to have a steadfast devotion to, but a pet nonetheless. I rolled my eyes and began to stand up from where I had been perched. 

"Come on, sweetheart. Just get in with me. Please?" His voice was warm, much like his eyes. I sighed as I watched him. 

A nagging voice told me to just walk off. Just go to bed and ignore him. He was clearly fine. Everything that he said would happen, had actually happened. He was healing up perfectly fine. He didn't need to be babied; he was a kidnapper, not a stray cat that needed to be brought in from the rain. But still, I couldn't make myself leave the small bathroom. 

"Please?" He repeated. I groaned before I stepped back from the tub. I grabbed onto the bottom of my shirt and pulled it upward. I hauled it over my head and then discarded it onto the floor. My pajama bottoms and underwear followed close behind.

Stepping forward, I felt the cold air bite into my skin. I winced before casting a leg over the edge of the tub. I had picked the opposite side of the tub to where he was sitting, though something told me he had wanted me to climb on top of him. 

I sank into the water across from him. I lifted my hands to my chest and quickly crossed my arms in an attempt at maintaining some sense of modesty. Miguel's eyes traced over me, drinking me in. His gaze was so intense that it made me squirm. 

"Stop staring at me." I said. 

"You're beautiful." His voice was low and warm. I readjusted my arms to make sure I was covered. I wracked my brain, searching for something to say.

"So, what's the thing about this timeline?" I said.

"What do you mean 'thing'?" He asked. 

"What makes it different from my timeline? I mean, there's absolutely no way that everything is the same. And, even with all of the people gone, there's got to be something weird here."

"Firstly, ouch. Bold of you to assume that my work isn't perfect." He lifted his index finger as he playfully chided me. 

"What's the second thing?" I asked. 

"Secondly, aren't we enough of a 'thing'?" We were both here. That was weird, as far as timelines went. We were both alive and okay, regardless of how we had ended up here.

"Come on. Surely there's something weird here. Maybe they call tuna by some other weird name or maybe the movie Titanic doesn't exist here."

"Well, you're the only person here, so you can call tuna whatever you want. I may mock you if you choose something ridiculous, but that's entirely your choice. Also, I don't think that any movies have ever come out here." 

I watched his face as he spoke.

Goosebumps danced across my skin as I sat in the water. "I think I'm about to get out. The house is too cold to be in here." I said. 

He leaned forward and reached out his arms. In one smooth movement, he hauled me upward and he pulled me into his lap, making sure that my back was pressing into his chest. He leaned backwards, lifted his right thigh upward, and promptly placed me there. His other leg spread outward. His warm skin pressed into my back. I could feel the hard outline of muscles as I sat there. I squirmed.

"This isn't fair." I murmured. 

"Sure it is." 

"How do you figure?"

"I dragged you over here, fair and square." He smirked. He pressed a kiss to the back of my shoulder. I rolled my eyes as I turned to look at the window. Rain beat down against the empty city. Clouds drifted across the sky, leaving several patches visible. 

"The stars are different here." I said. 

"Hmm?"

"The stars." I lifted my hand upward. I pointed toward the window to show him what I meant. "Pegasus is supposed to be right there. It's gone. The only one there is Andromeda."

Andromeda. The chained woman. 

The irony was not lost upon me. 

My ring was my chain; Miguel my warden. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to take the ring off or to truly push him away.

He pressed another kiss against my back. This time, I could feel the stubble of his jaw scrape against my skin. 

"You're warm." I murmured. He smiled against my skin. 

"I'm glad." He gently sucked on the soft piece of skin. I gasped, feeling his fangs graze for a moment. Though, by the time the sound had left my lips, he had already pulled back. 

"Sorry." He said. He inspected his handiwork on my flesh, making sure that he had not broken the skin.

I glanced over my shoulder, watching him as he slid his fingers along the skin of my back. He was enjoying getting to touch me. He could still see the novelty in how new it was.

When he shifted under me, I felt the hard shape of his erection brush the back of my thigh.

Without thinking, I glanced over my shoulder again. I leaned backward, moving until my back touched his chest. I looked up at him. His eyes were warm and soft. 

"What?" He asked. Without a word, I kissed him. He sighed against my mouth, moving slowly and carefully. As he did, I felt a familiar want beginning to stir inside of me. Slowly, I pulled away from him. I then tried to move off of his leg and was mildly surprised when he didn't try to hold me down. Instead, I lifted my hips upward and began to rearrange myself in the water, moving so that one leg sat on either side of his hips. 

I slid my legs around his waist and then pushed myself closer to him. The bottom of the cast iron tub was slick beneath us. It was hard to arrange myself in the water, but somehow I managed. Miguel leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against my lips. As he did, I lifted my hands upward and grabbed his shoulders for leverage.

“Careful, careful.” Miguel said. He placed a hand on the curve of my back to make sure that I didn’t slip in the water. 

“Aww, so you can be nice.” 

I smiled as I slid my hands across his strong shoulders. I could feel all of the muscles flex under my fingertips. A soft smirk painted his lips. God, he was gorgeous. It wasn't fair for one person to look this perfect.

But, looking at him, he looked like he was bone tired.

He leaned in for another kiss, but I bobbed backward. He already looked clean enough; I wanted to tell him to get out of the water and go to bed.

"What's wrong?" He asked. He looked hard at my face, searching for something in my features. But, before I could speak, he followed it up with another question. "Are you scared of me?" He asked. 

"What?" It caught me off guard.

"You heard me. Are you?" 

A little bit. 

"I don't think you would hurt me." I said. It wasn’t a lie.

“I would never hurt you.” His hands drifted to my face. Gently, his traced his fingers along the curve of my jaw, taking in every feature. “But, are you scared of me?” 

I knew exactly what he was referring to. The eyes, the fangs, even the sheer size of him was intimidating. But, under all of that, he was still just Miguel. Even if he wasn’t my version of him, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. 

“No.” I said. He offered a faint smile that didn’t meet his eyes. He didn’t believe me, but he seemed grateful that I would be willing to tell him what he wanted. 

“I love you.” He said. 

“I love you, too.” He smiled at my words. I knew that it would make him happy to hear them. They were only three little words, yet they seemed to mean everything to him. 

As I watched his face, I couldn't help but notice how exhausted he looked.

"You look tired. You didn’t sleep last night. You haven’t slept any of the other nights, either. I woke up to go to the bathroom around four and you were still awake. " I said. 

“Yes, I did sleep.”

“I saw you… Please just be honest with me.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“No, you never are.” He rolled his eyes at the accusation. “Why don’t you ever sleep?” I asked. Rain continued its assault on the roof, growing louder as the storm reached its peak.

“I usually can’t.” Thunder rolled so loud that I looked toward the window. 

“Bad dreams.” A dark tendril of hair fell across his forehead. I reached forward and gently brushed it out of the way. 

“About what?”

He shook his head before he pressed another kiss against my lips. That was his way of changing the conversation. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to talk about it.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered. His hand snaked between our naked bodies. Without hesitation, he grazed my clit with the pad of one of his fingers.

I gasped at the sudden touch. But, I didn’t move away. His index finger swirled over the bundle of nerves, forcing my toes to curl. I inched my body closer to him, begging for him not to stop. 

He rubbed faster and faster. I could feel myself getting closer to finishing. Miguel watched me with a burning intensity; his eyes were dark lust as he worked. I ground my hips against his fingers, feeling the pleasure beginning to grow in my lower stomach.

Suddenly, it overtook me. I gasped and almost fell forward from how suddenly a blinding warmth shot through me. Each touch was too much; it felt like I was on fire. Miguel caught me before I could tumble off of his body. He held me as I twitched on top of him, spasming from his gentle touches.

As I began to drift back down from the orgasm, I could feel his cock as it lay against his stomach. He was painfully hard. Every time I would bob a little too far forward in the water, I would brush into it, feeling just how desperate he was. 

“I think it’s time to call it a night.” I whispered.

���You don’t want to stay in here with me, sweetheart?” His voice was velvety and sweet; his little nickname for me was lined with lust.

“No, because I’m not on birth control. You’re going to end up knocking me up.” I said it partially as a joke. 

He didn’t laugh.

Oh.

“Miguel.”

“We have children in every universe.” He said it so softly and calmly that it was as if he was saying the sun was yellow and the sky was blue. It simply was the way of the universe; it was how things were and always would be. 

“We didn’t in mine.” I said.

“Because he died. Besides, it wasn’t for a lack of trying.” My face turned bright red. There was something in the way that he said the last part that raised a suspicion I hadn't had before.

“Were you ever watching?” I asked. 

“Not from outside of the window or anything like that, but I did catch… glimpses in your timeline.”

“Miguel!”

“I was working!” He defended himself. “I never watched went out of my way to watch you two when you were… intimate. The only times that I ever spied on you were when you were alone.”

“What do you mean when I was alone?” I remembered the photos of me that I had found in the box. 

“When he was at work and I thought something would happen to you; when I was worried about you.”

He was telling the truth, at least as far as I could tell. 

“Why didn’t you ever spy on him and I?” I asked. I expected him to say that he respected me too much to do that. Then again, he treated me like a pet, so it was rather questionable how much he respected me.

“Jealousy, mostly.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve been alone for a long time, sweetheart. He had you and he was always working; he was always gone.” He said.

“You’re always gone, too.” He frowned at the statement. 

Maybe all of the versions of him truly were the same. Based on how he winced, he seemed to be considering that fact.

“He couldn’t protect you because he was never there.” He said.

“Nothing happened to me. There was nothing to protect me from.” 

“But there could have been.” He was obsessed with the idea that I was fragile. Which, I mean, compared to him, I was. But he still didn’t have to be this worried. 

He was haunted by the idea of me dying and obsessed with the idea of saving me. Maybe it was to make up for his past failures.

“I’ve lost you in countless timelines. I could never risk it.” He winced. “But, you’re here now and you’re safe. You’ll always be mine and I’ll always be yours.” He said. We belonged to each other, whenever or wherever we were. The notion both charmed and chilled me. But, one of those feelings quickly won over the other. Or maybe it was just the lingering effects of the previous orgasm.

“Do you want me?” I asked. I was hoping to sound sexy; I just sounded pathetic. 

“More than anything.” 

I leaned forward and gently grabbed his cock. He groaned, lifting his hips  upward so that I could have better access. I slid my hand up and down several times before I moved my body closer to him. As I moved, he held onto me, making sure that I didn’t slip in the tub. I carefully lined him up with my entrance, feeling another wave of want wash through me. I curled one arm around his shoulder. 

“Ready?” He asked. I nodded quickly as I clung to him.

I whimpered when he slid inside. My fingers dug into his shoulders. He groaned as he sunk all the way in. I felt my body stretch, trying to accommodate him. 

After a moment, I pushed my legs into the tub and lifted myself upward. He curled one arm around my waist, watching me in wonder and awe as I slid down again, making us both groan. 

I lifted one hand off of his shoulder. His body had been through enough tonight. I didn't want to risk the one-in-a-million chance that I grabbed onto a sore spot. I gripped the cold edge of the tub to balance myself. But, just as suddenly as I had placed it there, it was pulled off. Miguel pulled my hand into his, lacing our fingers together. 

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against my lips. I smiled, giving into his mouth. The kiss was brief; it was broken when I gasped against him mouth, feeling a warm pleasure begin to grow inside of me.

I bounced my hips, feeling him hit deep with every movement. I moaned. My stomach was beginning to tighten. 

He tightened his hold on my hand. One of his fingers brushed over the ring that I was still wearing.

I was his. I belonged to him. 

As if he could read my mind, he pressed his lips against mine again. 

When he pulled away, he said "Open your eyes."

I did as told. My eyes met his as I slid downward on his cock. Then, before my body could meet his, he thrusted upward, making me gasp.

"Keep looking at me." He said. I nodded as I lifted my hips upward. He groaned, quickly burying himself deep inside of me. He wanted to watch the way my face twitched with pleasure when he fucked me. He wanted to see what he did to me; what power he had over me.

I tightened my hold on his hand. If he was a normal man, I was sure I would have accidentally broken one of his fingers from how hard I was gripping him. 

I lifted my hips, then brought them down on him just as he slammed inside of me. We did it over and over again, forcing out gasps and moans from each other. 

“Miguel, I’m close! Don’t stop!” I moaned. I was so damn close. I could feel the tightening in my lower stomach every time he sheathed himself inside of me.

Then, all at once, I felt a wave of heat wash over me.

I gasped, clenching around him as I came undone. Pleasure coursed through my body, making my toes curl and my head fall back. Miguel pressed a kiss to the base of my throat as he hammered inside of me, not stopping his pace.

After a moment, he let out a low groan. He moaned my name and I was suddenly very aware of the warm fluid that filled me. It was leaking down my upper thighs and into the water around us.

The pleasure began to fade away. I gasped, trying to catch the breath that I had been holding. Miguel smiled and leaned back against the tub, his body tired and spent. A mixture of sweat and water glistened against his skin. 

It was around three in the morning. I could feel the exhaustion beginning to sink into my bones.

I moved to climb off of him, but just as he had last time, he held me in place. One hand held my hips in place, pinning me on top of him. I sighed, giving up any notion of fighting. It was useless; his grip was ironclad.

"Let me hold you... just for a little while." His voice was soft. His other hand drifted to the curve of my back. He pulled me forward, moving me until my chest lay against his. 

"I'm tired." I murmured. 

"I know, sweetheart."

I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. I could hear his heart in my ear. Its strumming was low and steady. His skin was warm. "I missed you." he said. 

I wasn't sure if he was talking to me directly, or some distant memory of me. But I would take what I could get. 

"I missed you, too." 

He pressed a gentle kiss against my damp hair. Outside, lightning cut across the sky. 

@levisbebe @amplsblog​ @spider-biter​ @taleiak​ @ladyfairenvale​ (I tried to tag everyone who asked! I’m sorry if I missed you!)

#miguel o'hara #Miguel Ohara smut #Miguel o'hara smut #Miguel O'Hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #Miguel ohara x you #Miguel o'hara x you #Miguel ohara imagines #Miguel ohara fan-fiction #Miguel ohara fanfiction #spiderman99 smut

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

This is me and Miguel btw

#it’s actually a problem how down bad I am for this fictional man #ygmyhyk thoughts #miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #miguel spiderman #Miguel O’Hara

[cupcakeinat0r]

<3 Girl who’s horny 24/7 but only wants to have sex with fictional ppl <3

#this is fine. #I’m ok #I’m so normal #this is abt #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #fictional men #day 7665 without sex #I think I’m alright

[fortheloveofleon]

So, what if reader as spider person do smth WRONG like bad wrong, miguel got pissed (an understatement) and they run from miguel, they manage to hide from miguel for a good while but miguel eventually catch them, some fight happens and miguel has had enough he broke some bones and made sure the other spider person also couldn't do anything (the venom thing). The rest is up to you!

WICKED GAMES

⊱ Pairing: Yandere!Miguel x Spider!Reader

⊱ Summary: You decided to test Miguel’s limits and took something that didn’t belong to you. So, what’s the obvious response when the most terrifying Spiderman finds out? You hide. Unfortunately for you, Miguel enjoys the “seek” part a bit too much.

⊱ Contents: 18+, Yandere!Miguel, Dark Content, Scary? Content, Jealousy, Dub-Con, Non-Con, Dom!Miguel, Hate-Fucking, Face Slapping, Orgasm (M+F), Primal Kink, Biting, Creampie, Choking, Man-Handling, Hair Pulling.

Heavy footsteps fall to the concrete with each stride you take, lunging forward in a panicked haste. Soft breaths tremble in your lungs. The tightness in your chest grows and grows as you head further through streets.

Iridescent lights flicker above your head, and the smell of metal is making your eyes glass over. Even whilst slinking through these dingy streets and crooked alleys, you still haven’t entirely made out where you actually are.

And it’s all your fault.

Is it that bad you wanted to be treated like an adult?

You’re a grown woman. A Spider.

But Miguel refused to see you as such, always keeping an eye on you “just in case.”

You were sick of feeling like glass, and you were determined to prove yourself, so you made a wrong decision that just felt so right at the time;

You stole a portal watch from his lab.

Your naïve belief of thinking Miguel wouldn’t find out only made matters worse, and made him fucking livid when he did.

Thanks to a tip from Hobie back at Headquarters, you’ve managed to get a head start. So here you are, jumping from universe to universe, world to world, trying to escape the consequences.

After what seems like hours of running, you’ve arrived in some sort of warehouse, dead and silent. Dripping pipes and crunching glass are the only sounds accompanying your heaving breaths.

But just when you thought you’re safe, a sudden whirring noise rings through the air, echoing around you.

There’s a hovering gash, pulsing and glowing, omitting a flurry of blue particles. A burst of sparks, red and orange, rip open this cosmic, hexagonal wound to reveal a vacuum of time and space.

You make out a burly shape slipping out of it.

The portal leaves as quickly as it came, disappearing in a flash of light. A masked figure stands on the deserted warehouse floor, unmoving.

Using your webs, you pull yourself up to the beams of the roof, hiding and looking down.

You already know who it is.

Pulling the navy mask from his face, wavy hair ruffled and eyes dark, Miguel looks around the seemingly vacant room — you’re nowhere to be seen.

“I know you’re in here,” he drawls out, voice heavy. “It’ll be a lot quicker for me, and easier on you, if you just come out now.”

You say nothing, waiting with bated breath.

So does he.

He clicks his tongue, eyes rolling in irritation.

“Fucking…fine!” the brunette tuts, teeth gnashing together, chest heaving as he sighs. “You want to play a little hide-and-seek? Be my guest.”

Right now, you’re barely paying attention to his rambling; your gaze remains locked on a chance of escape.

Embedded in a wall across the room, is a vent.

You might get to it. If you’re quick enough.

Doing your best to stay quiet, perched on the balls on your feet, you slink across the metal beam, using only the webs of your palms to move with haste.

Shuddery breaths slip through your lips as you pull yourself closer to freedom.

“Oh, I forgot to mention one thing,” Miguel‘s voice echoes out from somewhere down below.

But, stupidly, you pause.

You take the chance to peek down, and the sight makes your heart fall — Miguel is stood by a light switch, one sharp finger resting against the button.

He’s looking straight at you, eyes crinkled in a humourless smile.

“We’re playing by my rules.”

And suddenly, the room flickers into a sea of black.

You manage to bury your scream somewhere between your chest and throat. One hand remains slapped over your mouth, tears pouring silently. You cling to the rafter, pressing your whole body down, swallowing wordless pleas.

Cold metal grunts beneath your nails. The sounds of creaking and shuffling echo around you, calling out in the dark.

Then, it’s eerily silent.

Hallowed breaths shake from your ribs. Your throat burns, and you blink rapidly, trying to find some sense of direction in this surrounding inky abyss.

But it’s no use; you need to get out here now.

You muster up the courage to drop to the floor, perching on the balls of your feet. Droplets of water splash around you, and force back a squeal, fists clenched, adrenaline rushing.

You swivel around, waiting for the reach of a clawed hand.

Still, nothing.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel’s fighting back to urge to pounce on you right now, forcing his hand away from his crotch. But the look of pure anguish on your face has his cock harder than ever.

You’re pivoting on your feet every second, trying to make out where he can be.

It’s like he’s everywhere.

“Y’know, I had to force LYLA to show me your location on the Quantum Map?” his voice travels.

Gasping, you turn, swinging at the dark. White, hot thrill pulses through veins, pulsing through your body, tempting you with a high you can’t find anywhere else.

“Threatened to dismantle her software,” Miguel chuckles. You can hear the smirk in his tone. “It was funny, you should’ve heard her beg.”

“See?” you breathe out, head swivelling. “Even your personal AI knows you’re a fucking psycho,”

“That’s a pretty ballsy thing to say for someone who’s scared of me,” the dark calls out. The sound of deep laughter chimes around.

You swallow hard, blinking — it’s not a secret.

You are scared of him.

A majority of people, in the Spider Society or not, are scared of Miguel. He’s used to the looks of agitation, the fleeting glances, the scurrying.

But for some reason, he takes great pride knowing he can make you twitch.

“Do I scare you?” he whispers, humming your name. He sounds so close, words brushing your ear.

Behind you, a heavy claw reaches out of the dark, running gently up your spine — a warning.

The movement has you rushing forward, scrambling away, hiccuping out a scream.

You start to run, panicked.

Where to, you don’t know, but you’re running, fast and blindly.

Shoes hitting the floor with each step, you stumble and drag yourself forward, staggering through this maze of black, feeling the walls for any sign of exit.

Miguel follows your movements, waiting for his moment to strike, hard and true.

He watches the way you pull the mask from your face, breathing heavily in frustration, nimble hands tugging at the bolted doors and windows.

He smiles, seeing the panic settle in on your features when you realise you’ve run out of web fluid, leaving you stranded on this warehouse floor.

Suddenly, he hears nails scratching the concrete. He watches on as you grope the floor blindly, feeling out for something.

“No,” you whisper to yourself. “S-shit, fucking shit!”

Then, it clicks. Finally, the last domino has fallen.

Miguel grins in the shadows, eyes resting on the puddle by his feet. A soft glow shimmers against the water, revealing something digital and sunken.

You’ve dropped your portal watch.

How could you have lost it? It was just on your wrist. How could have been so careless, so stupid? Now, you’re trapped.

No longer relying on your silence, you begin to kick hard at the chained doors, grunting and groaning as the iron jangles.

Right now, you don’t have the time to fucking critique yourself, you need to leave.

“Fucking. Open!” you breathe out, booting at the metal. The head of the lock begins to bend, the doors shaking under the weight of your blow.

But just as hope begins to beam, a sudden crackling thud booms above you.

You turn.

The end of the warehouse is flooded in light, fluorescents humming. As you peer down, a tall figure crouches, and stands, facing you.

Miguel’s grinning hard, fangs and claws on show.

Your stare, eyes wide, and begin to kick harder at the door.

Bang.

The second light follows, illuminating the ground with a musky yellow. That figure in the distance grows closer and closer.

You can hear his feet pounding against the floor.

Bang.

Just as the third light shines down, the door shatters out, and a scream crawls up from your throat.

Miguel lunges at you, fangs bared, tackling you to the ground.

Heavy hands wrap around your throat, crumpling your shrieks to mere cries as the pair of you topple.

You’re cursing, kicking, flailing as much as you could, pummelling at his chest, arms, anything you can reach.

The larger man has settled himself between your legs, pinning you to the floor.

“C’mon, tú zorra, keep hitting me,” he grunts, goading you with a grin. “Fucking see what happens.”

In the tussle, you manage to punch him hard in his ribs, releasing an audible crack.

Miguel sucks in a breath, cold through the teeth as his brows . His jaw is set, tense and square. Rich brown eyes growing ever darker.

Before you can even think, a fist locked in the tresses of your hair, yanking hard. Pain burns at your scalp as Miguel tugs your head to the side, exposing the flesh of your neck.

A flash of teeth, a shining wink of a blood-tinged fang. Then he bites down.

Hard.

The world blurs for a quick second.

You feel flesh tear, and the smell of hot, wet metal fills the air. Miguel is almost growling against you. Canines shift beneath your skin.

Something, warm and sticky, is dripping down your neck. The room feels so clammy all of a sudden.

Vision softening, everything is a wave of colours and sounds. You can barely slur out your confusion as Miguel’s hands run along the shape of you, ghosting your clothed cunt.

“Y’wanna act like a bitch, huh?” Miguel hisses — you feel fabric tearing, pulling against your skin. Goosebumps decorate your body as you lay half naked on the ground.

“Looks like I’ve gotta remind who fucking owns you.”

Two fingers push against your mouth, and you’re too weak to fight against them. Saliva escapes from the corners of your lips and covers your chin as Miguel’s digits press against your tongue.

He tastes like blood and salt.

Your eyes flutter shut as you moan around his fingers, blinking out tears.

“You pathetic little slut,” Miguel’s huffing out a laugh, grasping your face, thrusting his middle and forefinger back and forth, grinning as you choke.

Miguel feels your fingers careening against the stiff muscle of his forearm creeping along his shoulders to find home in his hair, ready to pull again.

He jolts, moving quick to pin them against the floor with one heavy hand— despite the Rapture flowing through your bloodstream right now, he wasn’t dumb to let you even attempt to get a hold on him.

He tears his fingers from your mouth, slamming his lips to yours, tongue pushing past your teeth.

You couldn’t even find the strength to fight back right now — all you can feel is him. His body on you, hands groping, his mouth melding against yours.

Miguel finds your futile efforts quite cute. But your struggling isn’t helping you at all, and it’s only turning him on.

He’s grinning against your skin, pressing soft kisses against your jaw, down your neck. The sudden switch has you tense, wary, like a deer in headlights.

“Turn over.” The sentence wasn’t a request, but a demand.

One that he wasn’t patient enough to wait for.

Within a second, he’s got you flipped over, face pressed against the cold flood, arms pinned behind your back. Your bare ass sticks up in the air, and Miguel strikes the skin hard.

Choked pleas fall from your lips, but that doesn’t stop him. One, two, three more times you feel the roughness of his palms against your ass.

Your skin is singing in pain, every nerve set aflame at each swat.

“Ngh, God! I’m sorry! ” you squeal out, “I’m sorry!”

Miguel’s jaw is set once more, eyes steely as he stares straight at your glistening cunt.

“Oh, you’re sorry?” he breathes out, each word dripping in ridicule. A rough finger presses against the hot wetness building between your legs, sticky and sweet.

“No, you’re not. Not yet.”

A loud cry escapes you as Miguel plunges his cock, swollen and hard, deep in the sweltering heat of your cunt. Sharp pain throbs within you for a brief second, pulsing between your leg.

Fangs bared, Miguel groans at your grip. “Fucking hell.”

Tears drip down your face, darkening the concrete as each drop falls with every surge of his hips, the fat of your behind smashing against his abdomen.

“Oh, my G-God,” you stutter out sacrilege, nails biting in your palms. “Fuck, Miguel.”

As much as you want to hate this, hate him, you can’t control how your body feels. Your hips appear to have a mind of their own, pushing back in his grip. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each move, walls hugging his length with a tightness he’s never felt before.

There’s a sweltering mix of pain and pleasure, sweetness and salt, swirling inside of you as he’s hitting every goddam spot. Right now, you’re in limbo, on edge, just waiting for that one moment to push you into bliss.

And Miguel knows it. He can feel it. Smell it. Taste it, practically.

Yet, he’s seething.

How dare you enjoy yourself after making go to all this trouble? How do you have the fucking gall to find joy in this?

Heavy grunts escaping through his gritted teeth as his stray hand releases abandon your clasped wrists, only to grip at the back of your neck and push your face further into the ground.

“Dumb. Little. Slut,” he spits, emphasising on each word with a further thrust of his cock, drilling faster, harder, in the hot, wet mess of your cunt. “‘Course y’fuckin’ enjoying this. Never known a girl more hungry f’dick than you.”

You could only hiccup out small pleas as the taller man berates you with scorching insults, accompanied with a mocking laugh that melts into a moan.

Miguel wants to last longer - truly, he does. Nothing is more a sight for sore eyes than the pleading, whimpering mess you are.

But the sounds you’re making and the feeling of your walls tightening in on him, pulls him closer and closer to release quick than he intends.

He can’t help himself.

“Take it, hah, you…fuck…mi corazón.”

You whimper, eyes slinking shut as you breathe out a choked, “A-anything for you.”

With those last three brazen words, Miguel gives one final thrust, leaning over you to bite down on the curve of your neck as he comes — you’re both seeing stars.

It feels like you’re melting, from the inside out.

You can barely comprehend anything but these ebbing waves of sweet pleasure humming from between your twitching legs as you come, your plumped lips caught between your teeth so hard, you can taste blood.

Miguel’s rolling his hips in time with yours, panting, whimpering in your ear as he rides out this high for as long as he can, whispering sweet nothings and broken promises against your body.

You can feel this white mess sticking to your thighs, smeared against your abdomen, dripping with small plinks onto the cold concrete.

Miguel presses open-mouthed kisses down your back, running his tongue over the indents his fangs left in your skin.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet.” A hand returns to the nape of your neck, clutching at your hair.

A familiar wave of dread washes over you.

“Just wait till we get back to the lab.”

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel fan fiction #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x you #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #atsv fic #astv miguel #yandere!miguel o’hara #dark content #smut #yandere smut #yandere miguel #reader insert #miguel x y/n #across the spiderverse

[everlastlady]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎 '𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

✰ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello! My little heroes, villains, and civilians. The first Miguel O 'Hara post. Hopefully it's good, I'm not really good with Spanish so I'm using a translation thing to help me with the language. I do plan on learning Spanish after I finish learning Italian on duo, anyway if you enjoyed this story then my request box is open. You can support me by blazing, commenting, hearts, or reblogging. Don't forget to eat, drink water, and take your medicine. Also support your local fan fiction writers.

✰ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬: kidnapping, drugging, manipulation, violence, lies, and stockholm syndrome.

✰ Part 2

• You are an absolute sweetheart to everyone at the society. Always making lunches for those who you were friends with or patching them up from missions. You always put others first, your smile could lit up a room. At first Miguel didn't think much of you, he honestly found you annoying and sometimes would have to tell you and Peter to be quiet whenever you both were trying to make Mayday laugh. " cierra el pico both of you, go do that somewhere else. " so when you and Peter left. Miguel sat there for a while wanting to hear your laugh again but not with Peter around, not with anyone around.

• He loved your cooking, he would tell you that he's only accepting your food out of respect. But he would ever last drop as if he was starving. He wondered what meals you would cook if you two were married, what dishes would you make whenever he came home from working. What lunches would you pack him. Would the kids help you with dinner. Miguel started asking you to bring him lunch everyday saying that he didn't have time to make his own and didn't want to spend money on take out. " Gracias cariño " he likes how your fingers brush against his whenever you hand him the bento box.

• Recently he stopped sending you on missions and is having you help him in the lab or having you in the medical wing to patch up other spiders. You didn't mind but you missed going on missions, and Miguel could tell but he knew soon that you wouldn't miss missions. And he was right, you started to distract yourself by stopping crime in your own universe and hanging out with the other spiders. Miguel didn't like this, what if get hurt in your own universe or worst fall in love. Miguel swore that he heard you talking to Noir and Peter B about this guy from your favorite coffee shop called Steven Grant. How you almost got hurt trying to stop a robbery in your neighborhood. He needed to plan something, it might be painful and hurt him emotionally but he needed to teach you a lesson.

• Boredom was killing you as you sat in the lab and started playing with paper clips but you jumped when Lyla flashes on your watch. " Woah, don't fall over and die (name), I'm blessing you with my presences to tell you that Miguel is sending you out on a mission since everyone else is busy or Miguel thinks they aren't capable. He thinks you can handle it so chop chop get to it! ". With that Lyla vanished. You let out a gleeful noise and put on your mask as you open the portal and jump through. You thought this was going to be fun and easy especially since you been training but you thought wrong. Everything in this universe was wrong; it was all dark and gloomy. Here you are running away like a scared child while bleeding. You suit in had claw marks and tears slide down your face. Crying into your watch for help. You were covered in claw marks, bruises, and your wrist broken.

• No one seemed to be answering their watches when you had Lyla contact Jess, Peter, Gwen Noir, Miles, and Hobie. No one picked up but Miguel did when you screamed for Lyla to call him. And when Miguel showed up he took care of the threat. " ¿Estás bien querida? You had me worried when you didn't return, come on let's get you to the medical wing. " Miguel picked you up, your injuries made you pass out but you could have swore that Miguel was smirking before you shut your eyes.

• You eventually woke up but you weren't in the medical wing, you were in a bedroom and it didn't belong to you. A delicious smell entered your noise and you looked down to see your wrist bandaged. You carefully got out of the bed groaning. Still sore from your injures. You left the bedroom and walk down the hallway and into the kitchen where Miguel stood cooking a delicious meal. He eas wearing a tight black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Miguel turned around and saw your confused look. " Ah! corazon your awake! I brought you here because your injuries were so bad that I decided to treat you, also I didn't want the others to feel bad for not answering you. Good thing I answered you or else you would have been dead, now you know why I don't want to send you on anymore missions, you aren't strong enough which is fine, you were made for better things. " Miguel turned around and went back to cooking. You stood there and looked down, was Miguel right are you weak?

• Miguel had you sit down at table which you did still looking upset. " Now don't pout, until your injuries heal you can stay with me. I'll tell the others that you are on vacation a well deserved vacation. You do so much for everyone and take care of everyone. It's time for someone to take care of you~ " Miguel lifted up the fork to feed you some of the food. A break did sound nice and you could try to mentally recover from what had happened on the mission. So you agreed to stay at Miguel's place until your injuries healed. It wouldn't take that long for you to get better right?

• Wrong..... you always felt so weak and sleepy after every meal, Miguel made for you from breakfast, lunch, dinner, and even small snacks. You body always ached, you threw up, felt dizzy, and tired. Miguel ran some test and told you that you were sick but didn't know what you were suffering from. When you wanted to leave because you didn't want to be a burden. Miguel shook his head telling you that you weren't a burden that he would take care of you and that he didn't mind the company especially after all he lost. That made you feel sad so you stayed. Miguel bought you anything you wanted to make you feel at home, he even brought your clothes and other items from your apartment which felt weird at first because you didn't give anyone your address.

• While Miguel was gone and didn't come home the usual time he did. You were hungry and Miguel always cooked for you. So you wanted to surprise him and cook a meal for him and you. As you were going through the cabinets. You find a strange green bottle with some purple liquid inside. You ask Lyla about it, as she was painting her nails and not looking at you, she said the ingredients along with the side effects. " Not safe for human consumption, why do you ask? " She called out. Your whole body froze, was Miguel drugging you? Did he plan this whole thing to trap you here. You ran towards the bedroom to look for your watch but couldn't find it.

• " Looking for this corazon, it's rude to leave without saying goodbye or even a thank you mi amor for taking care of me... " You turned to see Miguel holding up your watch. Before you could react, Miguel threw it down and stepped on it. The watch broke into pieces. " oops... " Miguel quickly walked towards you and caged you with his body as your back was pressed against the wall. Tears stream down your face, this had to be a nghtmare. " D-Did you drug me, why did you drug me!? Did you send me on that mission knowing what would happen to me!? " You screamed at Miguel. Who stared at you with those red eyes. " Yes... because I needed to teach you a lesson that you are weak and only I can protect you because..... (Name), I love you~ " you flinch when Miguel strokes your cheek and wipes your tears away. " You are sick... " You said in between panic breathes. " I'm not sick, I was doing what was best for you... for us and you'll understand that soon but let's get you calmed down wouldn't want you to pass out again... " Miguel leans foward as you struggled. Miguel bit down sinking his fangs into your soft skin as you scream. But soon your body froze. " Shhh, te quiero. " Miguel laid you on the bed and left the room.

• You stayed trapped in Miguel's home for weeks. He told the others at the society that you quit and didn't want anyone to contact you since you wanted to retire from being a hero and didn't want any reminders or memories of the society. Of course everyone was upset but respected your wishes, if only they knew that truth. Just because you were kind that didn't mean you don't have a fighting spirit. You always fought to escape and tried taking Miguel's watch but he always overpowered you and knocked you got, always yelling his lungs out at you. " 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙋 fighting me, I'm trying to care for us for you! I don't want to keep fighting you. But you leave me no choice but to do this..... " Those last words from Miguel made your stomach drop. He locked you in a room and only left you a blanket and a mattress. The room had a bathroom but no windows. " I'll let you out when you learn to be a loving partner. " And he left you alone in that dark room. The only time he came back in was to bring you food but said nothing and left.

• Being in that room was driving you crazy and the food wasn't good it was just microwave meals that weren't cooked all the way and the room was cold. You sat there on the mattress crying all day and all night. Screaming for Lyla but she didn't respond because Miguel instructed her not to. After a month you sat there feeling mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. The door opened as the hallway lights burns your eyes. Miguel stood there with his arms out while staring at you, he stood there waiting and you got up. Walking over you hug him tightly. Miguel smirked and hugged back as he planted a kiss on your head. " Have you learned your lesson, do you love me? " He asked while rubbing your back. You nod your head. " Then say it, say you are sorry and that you love me. " Miguel said while hugging you tightly so tight that he could snap you in half. " I'm sorry for being selfish for not appreciating what you do for me, I love you Miguel, please don't send me back into that room, I'll behave, I love you, I love, I love you. " You said in between sobs.

• Miguel smiles and kissed you. " Good, let's go get you properly cleaned up and a good meal~ " Miguel picked you up and did as promised, he gave you a bath, fresh pajamas, and cooked your favourite meal. The two of you even sat on the couch watching your favorite movie. What made Miguel happy was how you cling to him. How whenever he went to the bathroom you would panic and try to follow him. " Don't worry cariño, I'm just going to the bathroom I'll be back watch your movie and be good and I won't put you in the punishment room. " Miguel kissed you and left. That night you laid in bed with him and quickly fell asleep since you were in an actual nice bed. Miguel watched you sleep and was finally happy that you had you.

Part 2 coming soon comment if you wanna be tagged in part 2

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel fanfic #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel x you #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere stories #miguel ohara x gender neutral reader #everlasting writes🪻 #fandom #fanfic #fan fiction

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Miguel M@sterbating(Solo)

CW: NSFW, M@sturbating, heavy description of male gënitals, “bitch” used to describe a woman

Poll results:

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The lack of physical touch started to get to him. Miguel had been so sheltered from everyone, and it was getting on his nerves. Granted it was he who pushed everyone away, he gave them glares when they got too close, growling and flashing his fangs to scare them off. Yet here he sat in his office, wishing he had someone to hold, someone to fuck.

Miguel shook his head a little as the thought of self pleasure crossed his mind, shaking the thought away. How pathetic would that be? He’s so desperate to feel someone’s hands that he’d use his own? The thought alone was humiliating. He’s Miguel O’Hara, he could easily get some bitch to fuck. But he didn’t want just anyone… he wanted something special.

With a heavy sigh he finally gave into the temptation. He ordered Lyla to lock all the entrances before deactivating her with his gizmo. She may be AI but… do you really want some tiny hologram woman staring at you while you beat it? Yeah he didn’t even want to think of his AI assistant watching this. She’d probably never let him forget it.

Miguel fiddles with the gizmo a bit more, making his hologram suit dissolve. His large and stiff cock stands tall, the tip oozing precum. It twitched and throbbed as he looked at it pitifully. This was so embarrassing to him, he couldn’t explain it but the thought of touching himself in such a way felt… dirty… more dirty than fucking some random bitch. He truly couldn’t tell you his reasoning.

He took a long deep breath before bringing his hand to his cock, smearing the precum over his member as lube. He shuddered and closed his eyes as his finger tips slowly tracing every ridge and vein on his monster of a dick. It throbbed and pulsed under his fingers, he didn’t know he was this desperate until now.

Miguel carefully strokes his cock, letting out a low groan of pleasure as heat comes over him in waves. He covers his face with his free hand, steadily increasing the speed. His breath quickens as he wraps his hand around his girth. After waiting a beat he starts pumping his cock slow at first, picking up the pace as he feels an knot form in his groin.

A deep moan escapes his lips as he pumps his cock faster. “Mierda… mierda…” He mumbles pathetically as he jerks his cock. He adjusts his position, now wrapping both hands around his member as he thrusts his hips. His eyes are shut, and he imagines he’s fucking some bitch he thought was hot enough to deserve his time.

He groaned and moans more as he fucked into his hands like a desperate animal, mumbling swears in Spanish as he feels his climax approaching. His thrusts become erratic. He’s grunting and even let’s out a whimper pre two.

With one final pump into his fists he releases ropes of sticky white cum, covering his hands and the floor. He didn’t care about the mess right now, his mind foggy as he came down from the adrenaline. His breath was shaky as he panted, slowly stroking his length until he was soft again. He let out a small grunt at the slight overstimulation, but he pulled his hands away before it became too much.

He had to clean up before he activated Lyla, acting like nothing happened.

#i will say this… I am afab lol so if I get some detail wrong just… it’s fictional okay? lol #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #across the spiderverse

[jad3s1]

Yan! Miguel O’Hara x daughter! Reader

Summary ; you were from earth 2199, you and your father were living peacefully. Until your father from earth 2099 came to take you back home. It didn’t matter to him if you wanted to or not.

Warnings! Yandere / dark themes , bad writing , description of gore, Google translated Spanish , use of y/n (like once or twice idk), reader is 13 , and this is really short…sorry💪🏻🤨

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You were sleeping peacefully in your father’s arms, he had came home from work a few hours ago and now the two of you were curled up in your bed. Even if you were a teenager, you and your father had a strong bond.

A portal opens opens in your quiet room, a 6’5 figure stepped out. Miguel O’Hara. He walked up to you’re bed, staring down at your dad with an almost feral look. Then looking at you his face softened, he then carefully picked you up and placed you in your own pillow. Looking back at your dad, which was just a different happier version of him. Miguel’s claw extended and he placed it directly too your fathers neck, dragging it across his neck the blood spilling and the sound of your father choking on his own blood woke you up.

Staring in horror at the tall masked man who just killed your father. “mi dulce hija, you are safe now.” The man tried to comfort you, backing up you hit the wall as tears we’re completely fading your vision. “Get away you monster!” You yelled out. Your words hurt him deeply.

Miguel grabbed your ankle and dragged you back to him, he pulled of his mask and he looked exactly like your now dead father. Crying out even harder you also held a confused expression, he leaned over your neck and bit into you. It felt almost like a vaccine you would get at the doctors, feeling your body starting to go limp as you were still awake was scary.

“I’m just bringing you home, mi belleza.” Miguel picked up your limp body like it was nothing, holding a hand across your back and one under your legs as the portal opened again and he walked in with you in his arms

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It had been a few weeks, and you were still resting him. he had gotten fed up,Leading up to an argument.

“Why can’t you let me go! I’m not your daughter!” You yelled, you were both standing in the living room. “Because! I lost you once. And I fucking refuse to lose you again. You don’t know how long I’ve had to stare at a screen while watching some other version of me get to love you like I did. I’ve missed you for 5 years. You are still my daughter and I won’t let you leave.” There was a silence before he spoke again sternly “go to your room and don’t come back out until I tell you too.”

There was no use in fighting him on this. A little while afterwards you were laying in bed,curled into a fetal position. you heard a nock on your door, before Miguel opened it softly. “¿Mi vida? Are you okay? Listen I’m sorry I yelled, but I need you to understand why I’m doing this… it’s for your own good.” He spoke gently.

You stayed silent with your back turned, “y/n. You can’t ignore me forever.” He said, still calmly but he seemed like he was about to start yelling..Still no answer. Before he was about to yell, quiet sniffles erupted. Miguel sighed and walked over to your bed.

Sitting down on your bed he comfortingly pats your shoulder, “ I’ve never lied to you.” Miguel spoke firmly. “ well- “ you started off, “that’s not true —I’ve had you lie to me before many times.” Miguel only looked at you before repeating, harsher this time. “ I have never lied to you.” he said“ well that’s not true, what about when you said i could go back to my original dad” your eyebrows furrowed as you spoke.

“ I’ve been wrong ,but I’ve never lied to you , I love you mi hija” Miguel answered with his hand on your shoulder, finally turning to face him you sit up and stare at him for a few seconds. You throw yourself at him in a hug, he catches you and hold you tightly as you burry your head in his neck/shoulder. Muttering apologies as you hold onto him as tightly as you can, he pets your hair. “Shhhh it’s okay mi vida.”

That would have been comforting, if there wasn’t a sick grin on his face.

#yandere #yandere miguel o'hara #fanfiction #fiction #i don’t want to do this anymore #yandere fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #x reader #platonic x reader

[killykstudio]

Melancholia

Miguel O'Hara x Cheated on!Reader

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6;

Warnings: 18+, no minors, heavy smut, fingering , spanking , dom! Miguel, dirty talking, mention of mental illness, self loathing.

Summary: after taking care of you, Miguel decides that you deserve a punishment due to your behaviour.

Author's note: since there are a lot of Spanish sentences in this part I've put the translation near to them, so enjoy!

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"uno" Spank!

"dos" Spank!

"T-tres" Spank!

"cua-a-tro" Spank!

"c-cHinCO" Spank!

"chinco"(it's "chinco" (five))

Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank! Spank!

"m-miguel!" You moaned.

"Empecemos... De nuevo" (let's try it again). His voice was suave, sultry and deep. You whimper.

"u-uno" Spank!

...

You forgot for how long he has been torturing your delicate buns. You were still wearing his short , but their legs were pulled up enough to show your skin.He made you count all the slaps he gave you in Spanish. After all you were the one to ask him to teach you the language.Every time you inevitably got the numbers pronunciation wrong ,he would start all over again. at every hit ,you rewarded him with a moan from your plumb lips, that he has bitten to the point of draining blood. His name slips from your mouth like a prayer, but with difficulty , since he has put two fingers in your mouth. You were already a mess , drooling all over the sheets and feeling your slit becoming more and more wet at every slap.

"c-cin-quen-t-ta"(fifty) Spank!

"Bien..." His finger leaves your mouth with pop. A string of saliva still connects them to your mouth. He leans back, takes off his shirt, takes both of your wrists and ties them together. Then he props your ass higher and takes off his shorts from you.

"tan mojada... Solo por esto, muñeca? (So wet... Only from this, babydoll?)

You whine at the cold air on your slit. He takes with his huge hands your peach cheeks, opening them further , a string of cum leaving your cunt.

"esto coño es solo por para mí ¿Tengo razón? (this cunt is only for me , am I right?)

"what are y-" Spank!

You gasp by the sudden sting. Your cunt clenching at nothing.

"solo español" (only Spanish) his severe voice sending shivers to your spine

"s-í" you cry out

"bueña muñeca... Mereces una recompensa" ( good "girl"... You deserve a prize)

Immediately your cunt was filled by two thick fingers.

"ah! Miguel!"

He starts pounding into you with such a fierce speed, touching all your weak spots. Your mind starts going dumb. He doesn't seem to slow down. You present him with your cutest sounds.

"Miguel!....Fuck!" Spank!

Meanwhile destroying your body with waves of pleasure he takes his shorts stained by your juice and puts them in your mouth to ease your moans.

You are drooling all over the sheets. You nails digging so hard in your palm. You can feel it , your climax approaching. It feels divin-

"que maravilla"(wonderful).your eyes widen, your cunt clenching at nothing and your body squirming in search for him. He just pulled out his finger from you , leaving you desperate for your release.

He takes of his shorts from your mouth.

"Repite después de mí" ( repeat after me)

"Mi amor" (my love)

"M-Miguel pleas- Spank!

"Se honesta, ¿lo haces a propósito? Te gusta ser azotada por mí" ( be honest, you do it on purpose? You like being spanked by me)

"repite,mi amor" ( repeat, love)

"Mmi a-amor"

"Buena" (good girl)

He flips you over your back and leans down over your slit , just his breath almost making you cum.

"te amo" ( I love you) he rolls his tongue on your clit. The feeling makes your eye roll in your back

Slap!

You gasp in pleasure and arc your back . This time he gave you a less hard slap on your slit.

"te- te amo"

He does a long lick from your hole to your pulsing clit, then he sucks on it and release it with a pop ,only to continue doing cats licks on it.

"quiero que estemos juntos..."(I want us to stay together)As he saying it you feel his breath and his tongue playing on your nerves

"q-quieRo q-u-e estEmos jUntos" at this point you are a babbling mess.

"para siempre" (for ever)

"pa-pa-para siiemp-Ah!

Three fingers slip inside your folds, the sudden stretch making you see the stars.

"deja ese pendejo y quedate conmigo te tratare como te mereces..." (Leave that bastard and stay with me ,so I can treat you the way you deserve)

His speed increases more and more with you becoming more and more near your release

"Miguel! I'm cu- "Slap!

"FUCK!" slap!

Your vision is becoming more blurred, your nerves are on fire , your body it's starting to shake-

"Acaba para mi , muñeca" (cum for me , babydoll)

you raise your head and you meet his gaze...

"Fuck!" You cum just by his expression: full of lust , red eyes , his mouth and chin dirty by your juices, his curls in disorder. Fuck he looked so pussy drunk.

He carries you through your release, sucking your sensible bud and getting his finger out to plant his hand on your bladder. This makes your flames turn into an explosion of white pleasure. You scream his name again again

"Miguel! Miguel! Migue-

"¿Sí?"

Morning light hits your eyes , making you find cover under the sheets.

As your sleepiness was leaving your body and your brain started igniting your nerves back, you realised.

It was just a wet dream!?

"everything okay y/n?" You hear Miguel's voice from another room.

What the fuck? Why did I dream something like that... I mean...no,please... I can't be this stupid... Did I fall in love with him?! Just from an act of mercy?!Oh, God! I'm completely crazy! completely gone ! Also a maniac. He would think I'm repulsive if he knew. Poor Miguel being stuck with someone like me, he would be ashamed to have someone like me to like him. I feel so sorry for him, I mean...Wait...when did I fall asleep?... everything he said meanwhile he brought me to his bed...Him teach me how to say muNeCa...was... Me dreaming or...

Fuck! You feel... sticky down there... so you bring two fingers on your covered slit and touch it to check

You are soaking wet

"¿Muñeca?"

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Author's notes: Yikes!! It was so difficult to write smut , but here we are! I think it was time for something spicy after all the drama even though it's just a dream. Anyway part 5 has been released, so go catch it! And thank you for reading!

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #itsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spider man #spider man 2099 #atsv smut #spiderman astv #astv #astv miguel #fan fiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you