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#spider-man reader insert
soullessdianthus · 10 months
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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚
Warnings: yandere themes (manipulation, kidnapping, imprisonment), smut (overstimulation, dubcon/noncon, breeding kink if you want to interpret like so)
Word count: 1.6k
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A sound of pouring rain tapping over the window kept you awake. You glanced over the glass and saw the same image as for the days before - dense, forest line cutting the grassy, wild meadow off. The temperature inside and out was warm and it almost felt like summer in the countryside of your homeland. But it was all an illusion.
A high-tech screens had been put inside the window frames to imitate your well known surroundings. He put an effort to make this place look like a decent place. Somewhere you would feel comfortable. But this wasn’t even a real home, it was your prison. 
After you interfered a little too much with the canon events in one of the spider-verses, Miguel O’Hara visited your world in person. He demanded an explanations from Peter Parker, a friend from college, about your doings. 
Because you two learned lately about the up-coming death of uncle Ben and tried to avoid it by all means. And you almost succeed. Almost.
Miguel, a tall man with a dark look on his face, threatened Peter about the consequences of avoiding such occurrences. Parker appeared to be frightened of the stranger as Miguel’s eyes seemed to glow brightly red from frustration. 
Those piercing eyes finally found your form, standing still behind your Spiderman and only then you processed what you just heard. 
━ Wh-What? It was OUR idea to save your uncle! ━ You interrupted those two men, gesturing with your hands. But Peter didn’t even bother to look at you, he didn’t have enough courage to do so. He tried to frame you and put all the guilt on you. Which in the end, somehow worked out. 
He agreed to that mysterious spidey-guy from another universe that someone had to bear the consequences of messing up with the timeline. And Parker pointed at you. An ultimate betrayal, ripped your heart apart. 
Soon after you found yourself in that damn prison with a bracelet over your wrist to “stop you from glitching”. Whatever that was supposed to mean. 
Miguel was some kind of boss around the place you found yourself in. At least that's what Lyla told you, a artificial intelligence present in the technology around you. It was him who was responsible for you from now on as he visited you every day. 
At first, each time you saw him, you tried throwing things at him purely out of rage - a book, a small picture frame or a chair, but each time he managed to catch or turn down anything you tossed. He kept trying to explain to you what was happening and why he couldn’t let you go back into your world. Miguel stated that it was dangerous enough when a non-variant person was messing up with the timeline. 
But was this all true? There was no one else you could ask for a second opinion, you had to believe, everything Miguel told you was the truth. Obviously, you questioned everything about him and this place. It felt like you were losing your sanity and a part of yourself. 
The well-built man with brown, combed hair was very patient and understable with your rage and sorrow. Until he was not. 
O’Hara had enough of your tantrums and one time he scared you truly. Eyes turning bloody red, his veins popping out and his teeth turning into long fangs. He charged at you, shoving your whole body to the wall behind. When your eyes were filled with fear and lungs emptied themself due to the force he pushed you, Miguel contained himself and moved away quickly. 
You rarely saw him in this form, but when you finally did - you kept behaving well, not wanting to anger him again. Because you knew nothing about him. What if he was able to hurt you? Or even murder you? 
Since then, you tried to suppress any anger and try to figure out how to return to your world, your life. And the brunette kept coming back, each day just to visit you. In the end he was your only company. 
Miguel brought you new books or art supplies if you asked Lyla or him directly. The man would spend some time with you - cooking, watching movies, anything you liked to do. But it was months ago. 
For the last couple of weeks, you were practically silent and apathetic. Curling inside the armchair near the “window”, napping or sobbing quietly. You’ve been in this prison for too long and it began to crush your spirit. 
He acknowledged the change in you and tried talking about it. He kept assuring that he has to keep you here for the world’s sake and balance. Because if someone messes up with the canon again, the universe will collapse. You reprimanded yourself for leaning into his chest when he offered you a comforting hug. Because how could you ever want solace from your captor? 
That evening was no different. Miguel visited you after work and found you sitting in silence on that damn armchair. When he crouched down, trying to catch your sight, you scooted backwards in the seat. 
━ What’s wrong, cariño?
━ I want to go home. ━ Your voice full with sorrow gained his attention. Where was your spirit he adored so much? The pain in your voice almost made him feel bad. Almost.
Miguel reached towards your exposed calf and started rubbing it with his pointing finger. 
━ This is your home, tú lo sabes. [sp.: you know it] ━ His voice sounded peaceful when he reached both of his arms in your direction. His embrace was welcoming, but you knew better. It was like a sweet flavored poison, spreading slowly under your skin, killing you slowly. ━ Come here.
You pushed firmly against his shoulders as you jumped out of the chair and took a few steps back. 
━ Miguel ━ you said his name loudly, gaining his full attention. You were being hysterical again. ━ I’ve been here FOR MONTHS. I had life before, I had A PURPOSE. You took it from me!
He tried, he really tried holding himself back this time you talked back. But your whining became annoying and Miguel just knew what would make you feel better. 
He stood up to his full height, easily towering over you. Brunette came closer, taking each step slowly, like he was giving you time to calm yourself or at least apologize. But you didn’t even back out. 
Miguel was leaning to look into your glimmering eyes and he saw how much you hated him at that moment. “We need to work on that temper”, he once told you, but you thought nothing of it. 
His little, feisty nymph. That’s what he liked to think of you. 
━ Fine ━ he growled right in your face, before grabbing your arm. ━ I’ll give you a purpose. 
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The sound of your heavy panting echoed through the room. You tried straightening your hands again, but unsuccessfully as your muscles gave up a long time ago. Only his strong hands kept your ass higher than your head, by the tightening grip over your already bruised hips. 
Miguel kept thrusting into your tight cunt until you were a sobbing mess. He already pushed you over the edge at least three times, devouring the little noises you made and how your pussy clenched around his swollen shaft. 
Brunette kept one of his palms spread between your shoulder blades, keeping your upper half down, making your spine arch better. 
The sweat covered the back of your bent knees, him sliding in and out of you with ease, because of your wetness. Miguel certainly knew where to touch you to make you break into pieces between his fingers. 
━ See, doesn't that feel good to be by my side, cariño? ━ He leaned over your puffing frame, cheek dipped in the sheets while he kept fucking you stupid. 
━ Mig-Miguel… I can’t… n-no more…. ━ You whispered to him, feeling as each thrust of his hips pushed his cock deeper inside of you. The coiling sensation started to build up again between your trembling legs and in stomach. ━ Please!
━ Just one more, darling. ━ He heard you clearly, but yet he kept sliding in and out of you violently, chasing his own sweet release. 
Miguel took his hand away from your back and sneaked between your puffy lips. He spreaded them, opening you up and making it easier for him to find your clit. And when he finally did so, the brunette started rubbing it in a rhythm that quickly made you reach your another orgasm that night. 
Your body tensed suddenly and then collapsed into his pelvis, sinking his swollen cock deeper. When your cunt fluttered around him uncontrollably and your eyes rolled backwards, he came inside you, clenching his teeth. 
He tilted forward and placed both of his strong hands on each side of you, while coming down from his high. He noticed your grip tightening over bed sheets and smiled, before giving you a tender kiss on the temple. 
━ Mi pequeña ninfa. Do you understand now, that only I can protect you? [sp.: My little nymph]
Miguel loved his girl no matter if she had a bad day or not. He was going to make sure, no one will ever take you from him. You’re his precious troublemaker, aren’t you?
━ You belong with me. ━ He growled into your ear.
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cosmosis · 11 months
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MOVED TO @seratopia
miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - surprise visit modern au!
an unfamiliar secretary won’t let you into the building to visit your husband, Miguel, at his office
Visiting your husband at work may as well be the best way for you to spend your day off. He’s been working hard, his passion truly bursting at the seams when he talks to you about the latest improvement project he’s been working on for the past three weeks. 
You’re walking down the sidewalk in an outfit you knew would make Miguel go crazy, holding a nice bouquet of flowers in your arm. You decided men don’t get flowers enough, so you’re here to fill in that gap. He really deserves more than flowers anyway. 
With the badge embedded into your watch, you scan your wrist against the access monitor on the wall. The doors automatically open, and you feel a nice gust of air conditioning run into you. 
The office is very modern, clean, and sleek. All around you are advanced units of technology; a result of your husband’s successes. It smells the same it always has; clean, crisp, and slightly minty. As you walk through the doors, you’re greeted with the exact same things you always are; same lounge chairs, same grand elevator... 
Though, you don’t recognize the secretary at the desk. 
She’s blonde, red lipstick smeared onto her tight lips in an unwelcoming frown. A matching pearl set adorned over her crisp, dark blue blazer. 
Usually, you’d say hi to the secretary you knew, Lyla. You assume she got fired, which was a real shame, you love her sass. She was always so kind to you, saying hi with a smile, or offering to help guide you through the office and such. 
But instead, you walk right past the desk, digging through your memories to find how you managed to find Miguel’s main office last time. 
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?“
Her voice is just as snarky as you had imagined. 
“Visiting Miguel?“ You pause, your patience already growing extremely thin for the new secretary. You’d probably chat about this to Miguel later, maybe bat an eyelash or two to convince him about hiring someone different. 
“Nuh uh! Miguel O’Hara is busy right now, not open for any visitors at the moment.“ She replies, fixating her eyes on the large monitor in front of her. 
You pause for a moment, critically thinking things through for a moment. 
“Oh! I get it. M’am, you haven’t met me before, have you?“ You ask, trying your best to not crinkle the flowers in your hands. She raises a single eyebrow, glaring as if you insulted her mother. (Which, you might as well should do.)
“I’m Miguel’s spouse. He lets me visit him whenever, I even have my badge right here-“
She holds up a single manicured finger. 
“Nice try, but my charts right here say that Miguel is busy at the moment. Try another time, maybe send him a fan letter or something.“
Your blood starts to boil as the new secretary has a satisfied smirk on her face. 
Instead of choosing violence and risking your hair getting ruined, you opt for the better option. Glaring at the desk manager directly in the eye, you pull out your cellphone from your pocket, manually pressing the contact button for Miguel. You wait for the phone to dial, pressing the cellular to your ear whilst examining your own nails. 
And finally, he answers. 
“Hm? You need something, honey?“
“Miguel.“
Miguel on the other line, freezes to a halt. Now, he knows he’s in trouble. Carefully, he clears his throat. 
“What is it, sweetie?“
You take a deep breath. “Your... secretary isn’t letting me into the office. Will you fix that, please?”
Miguel pinches between his eyebrows, groaning. 
“Of course, hun. I’ll be down in a sec.“
“Thank you, Miguel.“
The call ends, but the secretary still stares at you like you’ve thrown up all over her salad. She almost looks like she’s going to laugh, which makes you even madder. 
Within literally a few seconds, the elevator whirs to a halt, the top light switching on with a chime. As expected, your husband walks through the sliding doors, clad in a crisp white dress shirt and office pants. He’s so undeniably gorgeous, you almost consider forgiving the secretary. 
But, you don’t. 
“Ah, Miguel, this p-“
“Shut your mouth for moment, would you?“
The woman is taken aback, red bursting onto her cheeks as her fake smile melts into a frown. Her mouth is left agape, watching as Miguel saunters over to you with a smile. 
“What happened?“ Miguel asks, his Office Face™ dissolving into a genuine smile. He slots his hands to your waist, silently peering at the flowers in your arms. 
“Well, I was going to come surprise you... but then she said that you were busy.” You reply, pouting. 
“Aww, baby, it’s okay.“ He smooches the top of your head. “The flowers are pretty. I’ll handle this.“
Miguel then swerves around, this time with his Office Face™ on. He keeps his hand glued to your side, each step of his getting louder and louder as he makes his way towards the desk. 
“Tiffany.“
Tiffany, in question, shudders, keeping her eyes glued to the floor while a shit-eating smirk finds its’ way onto your face. No remorse whatsoever. 
“From now, until tonight, please let my partner into the building whenever they like.“
“Yes, sir. Why until tonight?“ 
“Because I’m firing you from any future stand-in’s, or any sort of work in here for the matter.“
Miguel: 1 Tiffany: 0
Tiffany looks like she has so much she wants to say, so much that she could scream at this very moment... but instead, she stays silent. You can see a vein practically ready to burst at her temple, her jaw grinding her teeth in her mouth. 
“I will dismiss you at the end of the day, Tiffany. I expect you to cause no more trouble until then.“
Tiffany is left utterly speechless, her jaw left slightly agape. Miguel ushers you by your back towards the elevator, poking and prodding his finger at the flowers in your grasp. 
Automatically, the elevator doors smoothly slide open, and you both step inside. You stare at the glass view outside, watching as the two of you get higher and higher above the city.
“I even had my badge, and she didn’t let me.“ You frown, indulgently leaning into Miguel’s chest. 
“I’m sorry, hun. Lyla’s out sick for a bit, so she was the only substitute I could find for today.“
Apologetically, he rubs your back, secretly praying that you’d forget about the whole ordeal so you’d pay attention to him instead. 
“S’okay. Thank god Lyla wasn’t fired.“ You mumble, breathing a sigh of relief. 
“She’s annoying, but she does her job well.“ Miguel remarks, and you gasp, personally offended on behalf of your beloved Lyla. 
“No she’s not! She’s super nice, actually.“
“Whatever.” Miguel scoffs. “Kiss me.”
“No. You called Lyla annoying.” 
these oneshots have really skyrocketed my account! thank you guys so much for the positive feedback, i love loveee reading all the comments i get! please stay tuned for more!
- cosmosis <333
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© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.
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renoed · 11 months
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wound too tight | h. brown
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❥ — PAIRING hobie brown x gn! bassist! reader
❥ — SUMMARY you and your neighbour are the loudest people in your apartment building - drowning out the sound of each other's music with your own. You hadn't realised that your neighbour saw it less like a competition and more like a collaboration.
# A/N i keep seeing “drummer reader” this and “drummer reader” that so, as a fellow bassist, i’m giving us little guys some food
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Your neighbour did not like you.
Luckily for them, the feeling was mutual.
Whenever you had a spare second, you'd take the opportunity to grab your bass and unwind, pulling out a CD you had burnt with all the songs you could play. You had strong feelings about paying a subscription fee to listen to music without ads, so you opted for totally legal youtube to mp3 converters.
You had never really been a noisy neighbour, keeping your amp as quiet as possible and stopping as soon as you knew people would be going to bed. Generally, the people that knew you in the building were fond of you.
So when the old lady in the flat next to you moved out, needing to live with family for the support, and a young man your age turned up, guitar case slung over his shoulder, you were curious. Eager to be friends, even.
The first week was quiet. There was an occasional clatter on the wall that connected your flats, but other than that you could've forgotten your old neighbour had even left. You occasionally saw him entering his apartment as you left, or vice versa, and he'd spare you a momentary glance as you offered a smile. A little rude, in your opinion, but not uncommon.
After that first week, your curiosity had died down and you had been following your regular routine, sifting through your CDs. You had one with a specific set of songs and you couldn't find it anywhere. After an hour, you had turned your entire apartment upside down to no avail and frowned at your own mess. You'd clean it up later.
Not bothering with a CD, you plugged it into your amp and checked the tuning of your bass, instinctively playing the familiar bassline of Boys Don't Cry - it had become habit for it to be the first thing you played, having been the first song you learnt.
What you didn't expect was, hardly five minutes later, an incredibly loud guitar strum to echo throughout your flat, barely muffled by your neighbour's walls. You listened in (not really having a choice due to it's volume) and recognised that he was playing a song you knew; one of the ones you had on that missing CD. It was a favourite of yours.
Biting the inside of your cheek you listened to him finish the first verse, aware that you couldn't practice with him making so much noise. When he reached the chorus, however, you used your foot to bump up the volume of your amp and play along, hoping that he could hear you (and that he was smart enough to realise he had been disturbing your practice).
It carried on like that for at least an hour, both of you gradually increasing the volume in an attempt to overpower the other.
When you finished, you immediately felt guilty for being an annoyance to just about everyone else in the building. You'd apologise for the disturbance the next morning.
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That morning, you made a quick trip to your local cornershop, buying some baking ingredients so you could apologise with more than just a promise not to get carried away again.
None of your neighbours disliked you, easily accepting the apology and baked goods when you sputtered out an explanation for all the noise. A couple of them even invited you in for a cup of tea, which was always welcome.
"That boy," the middle aged woman across from you leaned closer, a devious glint in her eyes, "the one that just moved in, are you friends?"
"Uh, no," you tilted your head to the side, feeling like you were 17 again and being questioned by aunts about 'when will you bring someone home?', "we haven't even spoken, actually."
"Oh," you watched her deflated, "that's boring. I thought you two would've been fast friends."
It was difficult not to laugh at her lack of subtlety and you took it as a sign to leave before you had to dodge any more questions. Maybe in another universe she was a pestering aunt - you didn't think you'd hate that.
As you walked across the hall to your apartment, you noticed your neighbour was leaving, no guitar in sight.
You caught eyes momentarily before letting unlocking your door. As you made your way inside, you couldn't help feeling like there were still eyes on you.
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This became a frequent routine - you'd practice bass, only to get interrupted by your lovely, polite neighbour deciding he wanted to play guitar whenever you didn't want him to, and a war over who could play louder would ensue.
It would've been funny the first time, but it was causing you to lose enjoyment out of practicing and a significant portion of your paycheck was being spent on ingrediants that you didn't even get to enjoy the results of. You were certain that the patience of your other neighbours were running thin, too.
So, like any normal person would, you began waiting for the familiar click of your neighbour's door closing before you even thought about touching your bass. The door, for whatever reason, had always been a sound you could hear from your apartment - you'd mostly tuned it out but now it proved vital in letting you practice bass in peace. And it worked.
For all of two days.
The last thing you expected when walking past your neighbour on the stairs was for him to reach out and grab your arm, stopping you in your tracks. His fingers were calloused, undoubtedly from guitar, but soft on your skin.
The contact made you turn to face him and you both stood like that for, what felt like, minutes. Just looking at each other. You hadn't noticed all his piercings. You hadn't noticed that he was as attractive as he was irritating.
"You the bassist?"
His words took you by surprise. Obviously he knew it was you - you didn't live with anyone, so there couldn't be multiple suspects.
"Yeah, I am."
His face broke out into a smile, grip tightening so he could pull you into him, slinging an arm over your shoulders. He smelt of aftershave and what you could only think to describe as an old library.
Since he had moved in, a word hadn't been spoken between you - a smile hadn't been shared. Now he'd nestled you under his arm, after just one admission from you.
"Mate," he was buzzing, "you are the sickest bassist I think I've ever heard. Every time you play I gotta join in, you're jus' too good!"
All ill-will towards the man melted away at his words: he was just joining in. It was cute, almost.
"Thanks," you offered, "I hadn't realised that's what you were doing, to be honest."
He didn't respond, catching sight of the plastic corner-shop bag in your hands. Flour, eggs, sugar, chocolate chips. Today you were making chocolate-chip muffins, it was one of the bakery recipes left in your cook book that you hadn't tried yet.
"You baking?"
"For the neighbours-"
"For me?" his smile only brightened, unintentionally leaning closer to you, "What's the occa-"
"To apologise for someone's noise," you shot back, not missing a beat. The statement had paused him in his tracks, lips pursed together and arm dropping away from you. It felt like you were missing something as he pulled away. If you didnt know better, you would've thought he hadn't even spared a second thought to your neighbours, or the volume of his amp.
"Hadn't really thought about that, I guess."
He'd proven you wrong; you didn't know better.
With the lull in conversation at his statement, you took a step away from him, offering your sweetest smile as you outstretched your arm with the bag, "I think I'm overdue some help, don't you?"
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reblogs are hugely appreciated ♡ [part two, three | masterlist]
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keenzinemugstudent · 1 year
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(Miguel yelling at Miles)
Y/n: What's the problem? Why you yelling at him like that tho?
Miguel: Yelling?
Y/n: *Gets in his face* YELLING!!!!
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hanasnx · 6 months
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closure
MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: sexual content | booty calling spider-man :)
PETER PARKER doesn't understand why he keeps letting you do this to him. Over and over again you tell him friendship is all you want, yet at the late hours of the night— since you know he's already up— you ask if he can afford a break. Like an idiot, he swings by. Doesn't even get the chance to take off the suit before you're shoving him down into a seat, straddling him to rub yourself all over his bulge.
"Hey, easy," he tells you, "you're gonna leave a wet spot." To protest you, his gloved hands cup the plush flesh of your backside, lifting you over him. That spider-strength has you weak in the knees, eagerly latching onto his neck over the cloth. A gasp emits from him as he maneuvers his erection from the confines of his suit and you mouth at his pulse point.
"Want- you, Spider. Need you." At the invoke of that nickname, he lulls his head back and you bite onto him in your enthusiasm. A delicious and low groan pours from his throat, from both the sensation and anticipation of being inside you again. Obediently, he lowers you, nudging your entrance with the head of his cock until he feels a give. You suck in a breath to feel that stretch, no one stretches you like Peter does.
"Fuck," he drags out the word, slowly reintroducing you to his every inch. Impatiently, you push down, as if you could ever hope to overpower him. The man has lifted buses. "Wait a second, baby, wait," His fingers dig into your skin, warning you that you're going too quick for your sake.
"I can't wait any longer, you took so long getting here," you whine, burying your nose into the crook of his shoulder. You can smell his sweat through it, the musk of recent exercise, prowling the streets of Manhattan looking for trouble. "Just fuck me already?"
Pete can't believe this is working on him. Yet again bowing to your whims because he's that desperate for your attention, that desperate for your touch. He can't lie, your impetuous begging for him and his dick strokes more than his ego, length twitching while half-seated inside you. "You want it that bad?" his tone betrays his hope.
"Yes! Yes, please, Pete," With your plea, your grip on him inflects with your syllables, rutting your body against him for any kind of friction, while his halt remains infallible. No matter how you wiggle, he won't let you sink further. At first it was to keep you from hurting yourself, now it's because he likes hearing your bargain for him. Those addicting lips glide up to his ear, and he can feel your breath on the shell of it through his mask. "Need my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."
"You're gonna pull that card? Seriously?" his indignant question is adversely punctuated with a buck up into you and you cry out. It got you fucking wet. It spurs him on, working himself up to a steady pace as he fucks you. He can hear the sounds of the city through the open window, if sirens flew by right now he's not sure he'd have the strength to leave you.
Putty in his hands, your body acts as fluid as he uses it, and you're so grateful you reached out to him. Fucking a superhero is thrilling enough, but fucking Spider-Man has a perk you can't pass up. That spider bite may have gifted an extra couple inches to his cock, but you're more interested in his power to fuck you like a sex toy. Along for the ride, you bounce on him because he's moving you. Like you're nothing. Out of instinct, your lips clumsily find his on the cloth as you brush noses. Your tongue peeks out, the felt drying the tip and his lips shift under your touch.
Breathless and amused, he asks, "Are you trying to french me through the mask again?"
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stormy-skyzzzzzz · 10 days
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okay but imagine sitting in your partners lap and whispering “talk nerdy to me, baby”
and then imagine them rambling on about random things they learned or something new they read that day.
(guys i love when ppl ramble about random things)
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pastelclovds · 11 months
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I just know Spot uses his powers to watch Reader from afar, but not in a creepy way at all, just in a lovesick puppy crush way. Reader doesn’t mind at all, and when they acknowledge his presence by saying “hello” to him, Spot just squeaks and quickly disappears into one of his spots. I just love dorky shy guys. 🤍🖤
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merowkittie · 10 months
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hiii! I was thinking about fem reader asking hobie to pierce her nipples bc she thinks it’ll look cute to which he agrees. but when he gets them done he’s literally so horny bc of how hot they make fem reader look..
hope you have a great day/night <3
Thanks :), you too, sweets!
Piercing Problems — Hobie Brown
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Summary: Hobie gets a little horny while piercing your tits.
Warnings: lots of talk about your boobs / very suggestive / not proof read I’m sorry but it’s 2AM / talks of needles, piercings / a short smut scene (a flashback) / umm I think that’s it..
Sorry is he’s ooc, still trying to figure out his character also this was rushed because this was requested a good week or two ago..
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Hobie was back at it again with piercing your body.
He had you sitting on the counter in your shared bathroom. Your locs were put up in a bun behind your head with some pieces hanging out and framing your soft face.
You were dangling your legs from your sitting position, swinging them back and forth, waiting for your boyfriend to finish getting his stuff together to pierce your nipples.
To say you were scared was an understatement. You were sure this would feel like you were dying and you were 100% sure you’d pass out in the process. Hobie had told you that you didn’t have to do it but you thought about all the perks about getting them.. and they were really cute!
“Ya ready, love?” He turned to you with a sharpie in hand. He walked move in front of you to be standing between your legs.
You nodded your head and lifted your shirt up to reveal your hardened nipples. They were cold from the chilly air of the bathroom. Hobie cupped your breasts, fondling them childishly.
You kicked him in the thigh and sighed. “Stop! Mark the area already and pierce it.. I’m going to piss on myself, I’m so fucking scared Hobie.”
He looked at you and rolled his eyes. He pressed a kiss to each of your nipples and then to your lips as a way to reassure you. You knew he knew what he was doing but he liked to play a lot.. too much.
Here’s how the conversation went with him to even agreeing to pierce your nipples in the first place:
“Mm.. fuck! Hobie, please..!” You placed your hand on his head somewhere in his wicks and tugged his further into your body.
His lips were attached to your nipples and his fingers inside of your cunt. His fingers were pumping in and out of you at a fast pace. Your hips were meeting his motions but stopped after you felt your cunt start to squeeze him hard and your stomach felt so full.
“Please what, babe?” He stopped his fingers for a moment, waiting to here the words he was looking for from your pouty lips.
You whined and whimpered at the loss of his thrusting fingers. You tried to move on your own but he held down your hips with his free hand.
“Please.. Please B, I need to cum so bad! I need you..” you looked at him with your lust blown eyes and he nodded, biting at your nipple which made you yelp.
“There you go, baby punk. I’ve gotcha ya. Lemme hear those pretty noises, yea?” He smirked up at you when he saw your eyes roll back in your head as his fingers started their movements again.
When you two finished, you kind of just laid around watching movies and talking mindlessly about stuff. Your nipples ached because of all the biting and sucking Hobie was doing to them. They were so sensitive. Though, how would it feel if you had piercings? I mean besides the feeling you thought they’d look cute on your breasts.
“B. What do you think about nipple piercings?” You peered up at him.
He didn’t say nothing at first, seemingly in thought and then nodded.
“Yea, they’re hot. What about ‘em?” He questioned, his eyes now on you. He knew where this was going but he just wanted to hear it from you.
You hummed. You didn’t know if you were very sure about your decision so you sat in silence for a minute, thinking it over. The pros and cons. The pain, pleasure, what about it be like? Then you were like fuck it.
“I want ‘em. I think they’re cute. What do you think, querido?” You bit your lips in anticipation of his response.
“I think you’d look quite lush.” He smirked at you. Instantly agreeing with this decision and he wouldn’t mind piercing it for you.
Now here you two were in your bathroom, at probably four in the morning, piercing your nipples.
You prayed a good six times during the prep process. You really weren’t one to handle pain well. A bit dramatic people would say.
After Hobie marked little dot indications on your nipples he placed the clamp on one and you gasped.
“What the fuck. B! That shit hurts. Is it supposed to feel this tight?” You winced as he adjusted it a bit and grabbed the needle.
He shrugged, “I wouldn’t know, lovie. How did it feel when I pierced your stomach?” He raised a brow waiting for you to respond.
You thought for a second and it felt pretty similar.
“The same way.”
“Then you’re good, shut your gob.”
You huffed and playfully kicked him again. He was getting annoying.
“Alright Alright. Don’t move, I’m gonna pierce ya now.” He grabbed the needle from the napkin he placed down besides you and steadily aligned it with the mark on your nipple. “Count with me, one?”
You felt the needle start to poke you and sucked in a breath, Hobie gave you a look and you let out a shaky breath. “Tw- FUCK!”
Before you got done saying two Hobie already put the needle through and slid the bar through your bud and quickly screwed the ball onto it.
“Oh my god, Hobie. Are you mental?” You stared at him wide eyed. Your face scrunched up in disbelief and confusion. You had tears coming down your face and you didn’t know what to do with your emotions at the moment.
He snickered at your reaction and clamped your other nipple, preparing for the next piercing. He cleaned the needle he used and the bar. He already cleaned the area he was gonna pierce and marked it. He thought you were doing alright, could tone it down with the screams cause it was, super early in the morning. You guys didn’t need another noise complaint.
As he started to line the needle up with your nipple he asked you a question, “Did you know Gwen and Miles kissed? Finally, right?”
“What!” You exclaimed and then that turned into a muffled yelp as he did what he did last time, slipping the barbell in and quickly screwing on the ball.
“Yup. Lad took forever!” He chuckled.
Once he finished cleaning any blood from the piercings you took a look at them in the mirror. Your tits looked beautiful with the shiny silver of the piercing sticking out of it. Hobie was behind you admiring his handy work.. and how your nips looked. His hands came crawling up your aides and he cupped the bottom of your breasts, holding them up as they sat perky in his hands.
He kissed your temple and rubbed his hands up and down your stomach and back to your breasts. You knew what he was doing and you felt butterflies in your chest at his movements.
“You like them?” He asked you. It wasn’t really a question more of a statement.
“Hell yea. They’re awesome, B.” You smiled, tilting your head up at him and kissing his jaw.
He hummed and pinched your sensitive nipples, earning a whine and a playful swat from you. You could feel him press against you and you knew he was hard from just staring at your tits with the newly added piercing.
“You know.. I should repay you right?” You turned around and placed your hands on his chest. Looking him in the eyes you bit your lip. He nodded, as if to tell you to go on, “Do you want me to help you out with that?” One of you hands traveled down to the bulge in his boxers. Rubbing it slightly causing him to groan.
“Mhm.. I want a view of those tits when you ride me.”
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justice-maul · 9 months
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Can I request Tom's peter parker x male reader
Peter hasn't seen his bf for a while and when they finally meet they try to have sex and make out but are getting interrupted by the avengers every single time. Getting Peter annoyed little by little until he finally reaches his limits and tells the avengers to leave them alone since he is going to get fucked by his bf and doesn't want any interruptions
With a breeding kink, eating out peters ass, playing with peters pecs, praising kink
Thanks :)
«Temptation» Tom!Peter Parker x Top Avenger Male Reader
Word count: 1,366
Author Note: thank you anon I love this request so far it’s one of my favs! English isn’t my first language!
WE WERE JUST AT 400 A FEW DAYS AGO AND NOW I HAVE NEAR 800 FOLLOWERS?!?! YALL ARE THE BEST I LITERALLY LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH ❤️
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Warning(s)⚠: Sub Peter, breeding, rim job, breast/pec play, nipple play, p in a, and of course, praise
It’s been so long since Peter has seen let alone touched his boyfriend, with the constant missions you two weren’t able to do anything together but finally, you two were both free and he was desperate to just feel you…
You two were in his room on the bed with Peter in your lap straddling your waist, his hands rested on your shoulders, your lips on his just as desperate to taste him as he was eager, you gently sucked his lip between your teeth, nipping at his bottom lip signaling him to open his mouth just enough for your tongue to slide into his warm wet mouth
But suddenly there’s a knock on the door and both of you are forced to pull away as Tony comes in to grab Peter for yet another time-consuming project, and it wasn’t the first time the Avengers had cock blocked both of you
Last week you were on top of him your hands trailed down his pants and felt up the fat of his ass as he let out a soft noise of pleasure in your mouth before Sam sent you a text to help him train. After a mission, Peter and you were desperate to feel each other as he palmed your cock but Steve sent out a message to all the Avengers for a long meeting
You can see that it was starting to get to Peter so one day as you two were on your couch in your bedroom you gently gripped his thigh moving your hand deeper in between as you began to kiss his neck in order to calm down his nerves, he let out a little whine as he’s been needy to just feel any sexual contact these past few weeks
Your lips gently sucked on his neck, pressing in hickeys to his skin as you began to leave light bites along his nape letting your teeth graze his skin causing him to let out louder noises but just as your hand moved to his pants one by one the avengers all came into the room
You saw Peter’s hands clench into fists as he watched all the Avengers swarm into your room and began to talk as if you two weren’t even there trying to spend time together alone and he couldn’t help but just snap, finally reaching his limit and stood up
“All of you, get out NOW!”
He yelled, it was unusual to see Peter yelling at anyone but it was clear he was pissed. “You have been bothering us all week can’t you leave for one day?!” He snapped and slowly the Avengers began to leave and he slammed the door shut behind them making it clear that he didn’t want anyone to disturb him
He let out a sigh of relief and turned back to you and you couldn’t help but just chuckle and you grab his waist pulling him in against your body and smashing your lips against his and soon you two were on the couch again making out, your hands snaked up his sweater lifting up right above his chest and began to gently grope his pecs
"Your body's so beautiful baby" You whispered against his lips causing him to shudder as your hands felt up his pecs gently squeezing and groping the fat, Peter was always incredibly sensitive and his chest was one of his weakest areas, especially his pink little buds
You pushed him against the couch getting in between his thighs as you began to grope his chest, feeling the supple skin against your fingers through his sweater was already driving you crazy and causing him to make the most pornographic noises only by you just you barely touching his chest
“Keep making those pretty noises for me sweetheart," you manhandled him on his knees with his ass raised in the air and removed both his pants and underwear, his sweater being the only piece of clothing left. He hid his face on the armrest as you grabbed handfuls of his cheeks
You waste no time in spreading his plump ass making his pink hole twitch as your breath fans over it jerking forward when you press your tongue flat against his rim and you began to take long strips along his hole making him whine pathetically which turned into a string of cusses as you pushed your tongue inside his slick heat
You can barely make out anything he was babbling but you continued to fuck his hole with your tongue, pulling back for a moment, you licked your own fingers, coating them in saliva before pushing two inside of his heat, your tongue joining them, spreading him open while enjoying the way he arched his back against your face
Your cock throbbed and harden between your legs, leaking precum into your boxers as it begged for attention when you finally were able to scissor and put three fingers inside him, is when you decided he was ready and pulled your fingers out of his cunt unbuckling your belt
When Peter saw you pull out your hardening length he felt a wave of nervousness and excitement coursing through him as you gently flipped him over on his back. Slowly, you began pushing into him inch by inch, “You're taking me in so well Peter, just relax for me baby, I’ll always take care of you,” you continued to praise him even as you bottomed out letting him adjust to your size
“I’m ready… you can start moving now…” he said nervously but you both knew when it came down to it he wasn’t shy about wanting your cock at all “Fuck, you feel so good,” you groaned feeling his tightness wrap around you, you began moving slowly inside of him his eyes locked in yours the entire time as you made love to him
“You’re so fucking beautiful Pete,” you added, your voice full of praise making him moan softly “I can’t believe I get to be with you like this…” Wordlessly, Peter pulled you into a passionate, heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth feeling your passion for him growing with each passing moment.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as you continued to thrust into his sloppy hole. "Fuck, baby, you're so fucking sexy," you whispered against his lips making him whimper. "I can't get enough of you." You deepened the kiss, your tongue tangling with his. Peter’s brain turning to mush as he whispered “I love you” over and over again, against your lips
“I love you too baby, M’gonna fill you up so fucking good, gonna make you mine…” your voice thick with lust as you began to thrust harder and faster, slamming your body into his with each movement making him babble and moan loudly from your length dragging along his heat
“Come on baby, let me hear you scream,” you added with your eyes locked on his “Let me hear how much you want it.” He yelled out wordless moans, screaming for your cock so loudly there was no way the Avengers hadn’t heard you two now but neither of you cared at the moment
Your hips moved faster, fucking into him relentlessly “Gonna cum, gonna cum, f-fuck!” You felt him tighten around your hardness making you groan loudly as he screamed, your thrusts becoming sloppy as you both came together, feeling your cum gushing out of your cock filling him up, and his shooting out over his own stomach
“Feel so full…” he said breathlessly, you put a hand over his lower abdomen and pulled out, watching as his cum seeped out of his messy hole, “That was just what I needed,” he said panting and resting his head on the armrest as you chuckled and gently helped him to the shower to get you both cleaned up.
Let’s just say when you guys both came out of your room no one made eye contact and made sure to always ask you two if you were busy before bothering either of you, some of the Avengers made jokes about it (especially Tony) and every time they did Peter would groan and hide us head in his hands making you laugh
If you want more… check out my Masterlist
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r0ttingj3lly · 11 months
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Miguel is so damn hot. AND THE MOVIE HOLY SHIT!
anyways I’m his wife it’s canon
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lilmaravilla · 6 months
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Barbie with a Sassy Boyfriend (E42! Miles Morales x Reader)
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warnings: not edited. a few curse words and a small humorous argument will be present in this story. please let me know if there are any mistakes. miles can be a little sassy and dramatic. summary: you had asked miles to watch the barbie movies but through text he told you no. literally sassy miles finally agrees to watch the movies with you
being in a relationship with miles meant cute dates, cute love letters (mostly from you) and all the cute stuff that most couples do. though, there were also arguments like every other couple that were either serious or just plain full of sass. one thing to know, Miles is part of the sassy boyfriend apocalypse.
currently, you were being a victim of his sassy ass arguments at the moment and all because he didn't want to watch a barbie movie with you nor have a barbie movie marathon. here you were standing in the middle of the mall, with your friends waiting on you, aggressively typing on your phone. this boy didn't want to watch those "weird girly ass movies with no plot" according to him.
mami u know i don't want to watch them weird girly movies with no plot.
nah, don't be disrespecting elina and bibble like that! >:(
WHO? ma what is u on about bro? u know i ain't about that
SO NOW I'M BRO??? :o well, congratulations. i'm CRYING. you made me CRY!
baby
no. now is not the time for pet names. outta here with that.
nah i'm calling u a baby i'm insulting u
oh fr? like that? in that case. . . yo forehead big as shit with them braids
don't hate me cuz u ain't me ;) im sexy and i know it ma and it ain't my fault u don't got good taste
you stared at your phone completely dumbfounded. there's no way miles is this sassy. you have confirmed you're a victim of the sassy boyfriend apocalypse.
჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻
"nah, my homie bibble ain't do shit. he ain't touch no damn burbuja. como me molesta esa sirena," miles spoke, eyes glued to the screen. somehow miles had agreed to watch mermaidia with you after you called him an uncultured swine.
"just keep watching the movie," you rolled your eyes and chuckled at how entertained he was by the movie.
"aight my bad. sorry you don't like my voice," he joked, causing you to roll your eyes again.
there was a comfortable silence until you spoke up.
"can we dress you up as bibble?"
"don't push it, ma."
჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻
author's note: i got the messages idea from this meme. also, this is the first time i write a story with Earth 42 Miles so please let me know if there is anything i can change. if you have any requests then please let me know! thank you <3
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periprose · 6 months
Note
Playstation Spidey is sooo blorbo- I love himmm. May I request something where Pete and Reader have been too preoccupied with studying and taking exams all week that when their date arrives on Saturday, they don't do anything but makeout instead cause they miss each other so much?🥲 (I just wish I had a Peter Parker to kiss😔)
I love him too and this idea is just 🤌🤌. I hope it's okay I made this a friends to lovers instead? :)
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Your phone buzzes with a new message from Peter.
Peter: hey we still good for Saturday? the study date at the library?
Peter: sorry for not picking up earlier. Phys 403 is kicking my ass 🥹
You giggle to yourself. Peter had been so excited to see you this week- he was terribly busy with internships and FEAST and every single exam that was assigned this week.
You had half the workload he did, and you struggled to finish things, so you had no idea how he did it. It was quite irritating, not being able to catch up with Peter as often as you'd like, but you were hanging on for Saturday.
Even now- he strangely missed your calls and would usually pick up ASAP- and May's told you he's not at FEAST, so it's really confusing to you where he'd be. But you're not concerned, because you have exams to study for.
You: Yea we're still good pete
You: don't stress about it. worry about your exam
Peter: 🫡 will do ma'am
You laugh, picturing Peter saluting to himself.
/
The timer for your Shakespeare exam just rings as you hand it in to your professor, who gives you a firm, steely nod. You know how strict he is- he doesn't always allow for students to hand in things after the time's up, and even as you leave the classroom, you hear students pleading with him to let them hand in their exams.
You shrug to yourself, and turn the corner of one of the many hallways of Empire State University- bumping straight into Peter.
"Oh-!" You topple over, and although at your trajectory in the air you should've fallen over Peter, he somehow has enough strength to keep you upright in the air, holding you gently by the waist, and before you can think too much about his surprisingly strong capabilities, he's set you down again already.
"All good?" Peter asks, and you nod bashfully.
"Yeah. Just finished my Shakespeare exam. Not sure if I did all that well." You tell him, and Peter raises his eyebrows.
"With Strict Dr. Powell, huh?" Peter gives a wary glance past your shoulder, and then leans in extra close, seemingly not noticing how you fail to maintain eye contact. "Just between you and me, I'm pretty sure he's not actually tenured."
"What?" You stare up at him in surprise. "How else would he be qualified to teach a fourth year English course?"
"Well, let's just say I did a little sleuthing after getting a C- on my last essay. I know, I know what you're going to say-" Peter shushes you as you laugh, taunting him about an unusually low grade. "It was on Asimov, you know? Father of Science Fiction?"
"I think that was H.G. Wells, Pete."
"Right, whatever." But Peter's features bristle with that familiar fondness for you, and you smile softly at him as he continues. "I knew even if my essay wasn't perfect, a C- was really lowballing what it should've been. So I searched some of the school records, and he's actually named Powalski. ESU's letting him stay tenured even though he's only been a professor for five years. My guess is that they owe him some kind of favour."
"And that's why our poor student body has to worry about failing English classes this year, when they should be easy. Because of one crazy professor." You surmise, and Peter nods. "Still, I can't believe you went through the school records! How did you even access them?"
"Uhhhh..." Peter shrugs as he starts backing away, a slightly flustered look on his face. "Parker luck?"
"Peter, I thought that was supposed to mean bad luck." You retort, laughing over his antics.
"Yeah, I never said I wasn't in hot water for doing that." Peter jokes, and he flashes a peace sign at you. "I gotta head to my Physics exam. Talk to you later?"
Before you can respond, Peter suddenly squeezes your shoulder in a quick move, and he takes a moment, staring at your face, and your mouth, before dashing off. "I'm sure you did great on your exam, regardless!"
"Thanks." You're left with a sheepish smile that you shake off your face when Peter's far in the distance, unaware that he's got the same expression on his face.
/
Peter's kind of struggling a little bit with physics.
Sure, he's a total brainiac, and he's sure to ace it even with his current mood- he's just terribly distracted.
You smelt really good today. Like warm, vanilla-cinnamon goodness. Peter's heightened senses tell him you've got a new perfume.
But he's more focusing on your lips for some reason. Ugh, no. Peter knows why he focuses so much on your lips- you just happen to smile in the cutest, sweetest way.
And just now- you had laughed in the funniest way, your lips curling into a pout that Peter was sure was seared into his mind for good.
Oh, no. I'm a total goner. He gets back to his exam, ignoring this urge to kiss you.
/
There's a knock at your apartment door just as you're finishing tidying up. Your living room tends to be pretty ugly, and the last thing you want is for Peter to think you're a slob.
Peter calls your name through the door. "I'm not going to think you're anymore messy than I am. Stop cleaning! We gotta leave soon if we want to make it for our allotted study room time, and I just need to use the bathroom."
You shake your head, give yourself one last glance in the mirror, and then open the door.
"Finally. God, dude, you would think your apartment is a pigsty or something. I'm only going to be in here for five minutes." Peter jokes. "You would hate to see mine."
"Is that why you've never invited me there?"
"Uh, yeah. Otherwise you could crash whenever you wanted to there." Peter suddenly turns red. "I mean... you know, you're always tired after class and your apartment is further away from ESU than mine is."
"It's fine, Peter. No need for rambling." You reach forward, wanting to take the books out of his hands- you notice a slight scar on his palm. "Hey, what's that?"
"Ah, just an accident at Octavius' place. No big deal, it'll be gone before I know it." Peter randomly opens a door. "This the bathroom? No, it's a closet. Darn these misleading doors..."
"Down the hall, to the right, Peter."
He nods, and you suddenly feel a wave of giddy energy as he's gone. Yes, you've crushed on Peter for a while- you just don't think it's going to go anywhere since you're both so busy.
You're reapplying your lip balm when Peter wanders back to you a couple minutes later.
"Ah, should we go?" You say, slightly muffled as you continue reapplying. It's a delicious honeydew flavour- you can't help but eat your lip balm off your lips from time to time.
"Yeah..." Peter struggles to say something, anything, and you catch his eyes drifting from yours, to your lips.
"Is something wrong?" You look up at him uncertainly. "There wasn't enough toilet paper, was there?"
"Shoot. Might've used the last bit, sorry." Peter jokes, but he turns quiet, and he grows a little pink.
"Well, if that's all, let's get going." You put your lip balm back in your pocket, and move to get your coat out of the closet, but Peter grabs your arm with that too-quick motion he always seems to possess.
Peter wordlessly cradles your face- there's something echoing through his expression right now, affection, the kind, softness you've always known him to possess, but something else, too. Yearning.
You can't help but smile up slightly confused at him, not sure of his intentions, and while you're not stupid, you're not going to assume anything.
Peter doesn't hesitate and simply leans in and kisses you, a soft kiss that turns a lot more firm as you're pulled inwards by his hands, and you eagerly kiss him back, and you feel him grinning widely when he knows that you've wanted this as much as he had.
It's easy, it's always fun when it's with you, and he figures you both need stress relief anyways. Rather than studying chemistry in the library.
You reach upwards, and run your fingers through his brown, soft hair, and Peter groans ever so slightly against your mouth, which pleases you.
Suddenly he lets go, deeply red and looking a little woozy, but he still holds you close. "Sorry, I- I got a little carried away there."
"Don't be sorry. I wanted to do that too." You admit, a little shyly. "Are you okay with not studying?"
"Really? That's what's on your mind?" Peter looks genuinely a little aghast, even if he is joking. "I must've not kissed you hard enough."
Peter brings you to your couch, where you kiss him again, taking the lead in a way that makes his stomach flip-flop, not dissimilar to the way he feels when he free-falls off a building. You clamber onto his lap, trying to be gentle- and he pulls you down fully on him, wanting to feel every inch, every millimeter, even, against his body. There's an excited thump in his body for every squeeze he makes against you, and he feels his restraint leaving him when you suddenly sweep your tongue into his mouth.
Even when you leave room for air, Peter is insistent, reaching forward with more little kisses all over your cheek, and you reach back again for him, pressing your lips against his, feeling like there's no need to ruin this time with talking.
He really likes that. These are precious moments, few to be found considering how busy you both are, and Peter intends to make the most of it.
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hanasnx · 6 months
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i don’t know your thoughts on sub!peter but imagine riding him bro!!!!! like i think he definitely would be a whimpering and whiny mess for sure
MINORS DNI 18+
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”Wait— wait,” PETER PARKER’s plea brings a smile to your face, reminiscent of the times you’ve tickled him and he begged for mercy in a lighthearted way: telling you to wait, and offering to launder your money for you as long as you’d put your hands away. There’s no way you’re letting him off that easy. You raise yourself, stimulating the half of his cock inside you, and his breath hitches in his throat. “Wait!” There’s a curl to his lips, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs.
“‘Wait?’” you parrot amusedly, “You wanna wait, baby? Can’t handle it?” you jeer, clenching down on his head on purpose as you raise your hips. His head throws back into the pillow, and his jaw tenses.
“Baby,” a most pitiful sound emits from him, and it only spurs you on, slamming back down onto him. “Fuck!”
“That’s right, Petey, you’re stuck with me all night. No waiting.” You pick up the pace, getting it steady as he moves his hands to claw at the sheets, afraid he’ll hurt you with how hard he wants to grab. A sweet mock sob ushers from his throat, peeking at you as you roll your hips on him.
“I’m gonna cum,” he whines indignantly, and you laugh at him.
“Yeah? Yeah, Petey, you gonna fucking cum? Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you through it. It’ll get sensitive, but you can handle it, right? Can’t Spider-Man handle it?”
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madlittlecriminal · 7 months
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Brinca Encima de Mi ⥓ Miguel O'Hara × Female!Reader
Request: no, but they are open
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected, riding, praise, little to no plot, slight breeding kink if you squint, short
for the month of october, im writing smut only. if you have any smut requests, send them in :)
rough title translation: "Bounce on Top of Me."
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You couldn't think of a better way than to spend a Fall afternoon by cuddling with your boyfriend and watching thriller movies, right?
Wrong.
Miguel O'Hara was a man of many things and one of those things was having one hell of an attraction towards you. Not only did he love you or find you insanely attractive inside and out, you always got him hard no matter what you did.
It didn't make it better when he came across a song out of curiosity and played it. The Spanish filth that filled his ears and engraved in his brain made him smirk and head to you.
Which led you to now; you were on top of him, riding his thick cock and moaning as you gripped his shoulders to keep steady.
"¿Estás bien, querida?" (Are you okay, darling/dear?) He asked. "Mhm." You hummed as you bit your lip, grinding your hips against his. He chuckled and rested his hands on your hips as he guided you up and down his length. "You feel so good around me, baby girl. You have no idea crazy this pussy of yours makes me." You moaned in response as you felt his cock reach deeper inside of you.
One hand moved away from your hip and went down to your clit. He began rubbing it softly with his thumb, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. "Oh fuck!" He groans as your pace quickens, feeling your walls clench around him. "Yeah baby? You wanna cum all over my cock?" You nod as you whimper at his words while he chuckles, moving his hips to pound into you. His thumb was still rubbing your clit, but he kept his pace the same.
Your grip on his shoulders tightened even more as you felt yourself getting closer to your release. "Miggy-" he nodded. "Si, mi amor. (Yes, my love.) Cum for me." His raspy and deep voice went straight to your cunt, making you clench around him as you came. He continued to thrust into you before coming inside you.
When he felt you rising off of him, he groaned and pushed you back down, making you moan. "Don't move." You rest your head on his shoulder and he smirked. "Good girl."
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beatificwrites · 10 months
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LAST MINUTE RENDEZVOUS ☆
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader
a/n: let’s pretend miguel can choose when he wants his bite to be venomous
content: +18, co-workers w/benefits, cursing, public sex, implied spider!reader, biting/fang kink, rough sex
premise: your boss unexpectedly has you for himself right in his office
wc: 1.8k
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"Uh…yes, Miguel?" You asked, unsure of why you were needed.
Miguel had called you to his office, explaining that the matter was urgent, so you expected a couple of your friends to be here as well if this was some sort of top-secret thing. You were all his best fighters.
After scanning the room and seeing that there were only you two, you wondered if this was about what you and Miguel had going on.
"Come here," he beckoned with a tilt of his head.
You shoot a web and swing your way up to the platform. You stand a few feet away and wait for him to speak again.
"Did I do anything out of order?" you asked, thinking about whatever it was that you could’ve done.
"No, you’re doing just fine," he assured you.
You disliked his serious tone, so you decided to switch the mood by feigning offense at his opinion on your work ethic.
"I’m doing just fine?? Do you not see me busting my ass every day?" you asked incredulously.
He rubbed his temple and said, "Fine, you do great, but it’s almost as if every spider does the same thing." He commented sarcastically.
"Yeah! Well, it’s a bit insulting that you think I’m doing just fine!" you stressed.
"Alright, I’m over this-
You cut him off. "I think that I deserve to be recognized by my boss for my incredible work and contribution to saving the multiverse!"
"Enough," he sighed as he grabbed his nose bridge.
You continue, loving how fast you can tick him off. "I mean, really, I’m doing just fine?! I practically risk my life every day in order to save other lives and, technically, every life that exists within the massive web of universes." you rambled.
"Ay, por dios!" he shouted, "just shut up."
Miguel was already in front of you before he harshly grabbed your waist and the back of your head with his huge hands.
You let out a chuckle, but your heart started to beat intensely, as it always does whenever he has his way with you.
He wasted no time in connecting your lips, and he pulled your smaller frame into his contrasting, large one. He let his hand on your waist slip onto your hip, then your plump ass. You shuddered at his rough touch.
He gripped your backside before giving it a light smack, and you moaned into his mouth, allowing him an opening. His slipped in his tongue, then he tapped your thigh as a signal for you to wrap your legs around him. Once you had latched onto his waist, he moved you over to his desk and trapped you between his muscular arms.
Said arms’ naked form was exposed once Miguel powered off his suit, leaving him in only his briefs. You did the same as he moved from your mouth onto your now-exposed neck. The remaining pixels of your suit dissolved, and Miguel seemed like a starved madman as he sucked on all the spots he knew you loved. You could feel the marks he was going to leave, begin to form across your jaw and neck.
"Eres bellísima, como siempre." [you’re gorgeous, like always.] He complimented you as soon as your half-naked form was unveiled.
You gave a shy smile as he admired and reveled in your beauty.
Miguel ripped off your underwear with zero hesitation, and it was at that moment that reality hit, and you realized that he was about to have his fair share of you on his desk. Everything had happened so fast.
You put a hand to his chest and said, "Wait, what if someone walks in? There’s no way we can explain ourselves."
"No one’s gonna disturb me while I’m busy researching anomalies," he reassured.
"Besides, I run this place. They wouldn’t say a thing to me," he stated with a shrug.
You were mind-blown by this newfound recklessness. For someone who wanted to keep this deal private, those sure weren’t the words you were expecting to hear.
You said no more and left it at that. Once you felt his tongue lapping over your now moist cunt, his actions seemed so urgent and desperate, like he needed you right now. That explains his unusual attitude.
His hands were now on your thighs, holding them apart. You let a handful of whimpers escape your lips as you reached to tug on his brown locks.
"Ugh, you're so good," you praised in between moans. You were struggling to keep your thighs upright, so Miguel's grip on them tightened.
He proceeded to eat you out, and at every tingling sensation, you pulled on his hair even more. Your head fell back as soon as you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer. You could feel the pressure building in your lower abdomen.
Miguel watched you intently from underneath the entire time, relishing in seeing you become undone before him. You looked so hot from his perspective.
You felt one of his hands leave your thighs, and two of his fingers entered your dripping cunt. You couldn't help but moan out loud at the intense feeling of his tongue and fingers simultaneously working on you.
"No tan duro, princesa." [not so loud, princess] he warned.
You weren't exactly sure about what he said, but you assumed you were probably too loud. It's just that you were so immersed in him going down on you.
He continued to suck on your folds as his two digits pushed in and out of you. He deepened them and slowly curled them to hear how you'd react. He could feel his cock begin to twitch at your non-stop whines.
"God, you taste so sweet," he groaned. The speed of his fingers began to escalate due to his patience wearing thin; he needed to be inside you already.
"Oh, fuck!" you wailed. It only took a few more laps for that wave of pleasure to wash over your entire body and leave you panting.
You clasped a hand over your mouth, forgetting you weren't laying on his sheets but rather sitting on his work desk.
Miguel glossed over your remaining juices until he had wiped you clean. He got up from his knees and leaned down to kiss you once again. You tasted yourself through his tongue, and he impatiently grabbed the back of your sports bra to pull it over.
You pulled your lips away and let him take your bra off. His eyes took in the delightful sight of your breasts, as if he hadn't seen them countless times.
"Come on, turn around for me," he ordered.
You promptly did as told, and he took out his hefty length to rub it against your soaking folds. Once he felt that you were comfortable enough, he slipped right in.
"Fuck..." he groaned again. "You're so goddamn tight."
He began to move at a medium pace, and he watched how your ass rippled against his shaft. You yelped when he gave it another smack, and another.
Miguel clamped his hand over your mouth so that nobody could hear your loudness.
"Gonna have to shut you up myself since you can’t be quiet," he muttered.
His other hand abruptly pulled up your thigh, and with the hand around your mouth, he brought you closer, making your back flush against his torso. You unconsciously wrapped your arm around his neck for support.
You were wailing uncontrollably. His closeness made his cock sink deeper into your core, and you could feel his body heat. The two were driving you mad. The way he was manhandling you made your cunt soak even more. God, he was all you needed.
He grew progressively rougher, and his thrusts became primal. He felt so good inside you; he needed this. He couldn’t wait till the end of the day; no, he needed to feel you now. Your tightness, your scent, your muffled moans—he was drowning in you, loving the state that you were in. You drove him insane.
"Shit, you’re taking me so well, mama," he grunted.
Miguel could hear your faint moans intensifying; he knew you were close. You could tell he was too when you could hear his gruff moans slip out.
At this moment, he took his hand off your mouth to clasp it over your breasts instead. He was so deep inside that your bodies had become one at this point.
"Me vuelves tan loco, lo sabes? Te sientes tan bien." [you drive me so crazy, you know? you feel so good.] He whispered in your ear.
You were panting, trying your absolute best to suppress your moans.
"I can’t take it anymore, Miguel..." you trailed off breathlessly.
"I know, mama, I know," he consoled as he kept at it.
Within a few thrusts, Miguel had lost his mind; he was close and needed you in his mouth.
"Carajo! [fuck]" he gritted through his teeth.
To hide his moans, his fangs unleashed themselves, and he sank them into your neck without a second thought.
Instead of crying out, you remained completely still in his hold as those last thrusts continuously hit your spot. An overwhelming amount of pleasure was passing through your body, and if he hadn’t been holding you, your body would’ve hit the floor already; you were physically numb.
Miguel released himself from your neck and hastily pulled himself out of you before placing your stomach flat on his desk so he could coat your bare ass with his seed, his favorite part.
He then lapped at the blood that dripped from the bite. In contrast to his roughness, he gave you a soft peck on the lips as an apology.
You remained in your post-climax haze as you simply hung over his desk. Still in awe of what just happened. Your boss just fucked you in his office, but everything's okay somehow?
"Sorry, I know we don't usually meet here, but I just couldn't wait until tonight." He reluctantly admitted.
"Hey, it's alright. I wasn't doing anything anyway." You chuckled, trying to hide the way you were freaking out inside from hearing him say that.
He grabbed a cloth from inside one of his drawers and wiped your backside. As soon as it was rid of his mess, his calloused hands rubbed over his hand marks, soothing your soreness.
Then Miguel picked you up and sat down in his chair with you on his lap. He figured this position would be more comfortable for you. Even though he knew your super strength could heal the pain in several minutes, he still felt bad.
There was a comfortable silence as you lay in his lap, neither of you wanting this bliss to end. Your eyes were closed, and he admired your half-asleep face. You were gorgeous in his mind. However, you reminded yourself of what this was and how he doesn't care for you beyond that.
You suddenly got up, and Miguel's brow furrowed. Though he also reminded himself of what this was and how this was all it was going to be, He silently watched you put on your underwear, then switch your suit back on. That was his queue to do the same.
"Uh, tomorrow night, your room, same time?" you asked before leaving.
"Like always," he bluntly replied.
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moon-rivr · 1 day
Text
so real
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part three of congratulations series masterlist
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: more angst 👹👹, depressive thoughts, use of a vape, drug addiction (rapture)
synopsis: miguel’s boss, tyler stone, offers him an.. alternative route to deal with his grief
author’s note: CAN I TALK MY SHIT AGAIN 🗣️‼️ anyways i’m sure you all knew by now but none of this is 100% canon :3
word count: 6.3k
Church bells echoed through his head time and time again, the relentless sound practically playing on cassette in his head. The sound was accompanied by the sounds of Tempest's screaming, screams of anger and fear combined. Screams that would engrave themselves into his very being, reminding him of his failures.  Why didn't you save me? I trusted you!
He patted the spot where you'd laid to him next to him, finding it empty. That was enough to wake him up from his restless slumber. He scrambled up to his feet, his mouth open to call out for you but nothing came out. All that was running through his head was the worst possible outcome, of finding you seriously injured or possibly even unconscious. The only thing he could do was listen as you called out to him: Miguel. Miguel. Miguel.
"Miguel."
"Miguel," his eyes snapped up open, realizing that was just another dream. He looked down to see that you were laying down next to him, your face grimacing as you wiggled. Oh shock. He'd clung on to you too tightly, practically almost squeezing you against his body. His grip immediately loosened, your body immediately relaxing. The loss of contact was evident even if you'd only moved a couple inches away from him.
His very being craved to be next to you, as selfish as it was. Your comfort was the only thing that he needed now, more than the very oxygen he inhaled.
"I'm sorry about that," he muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep and from all the crying he'd done just a couple hours prior. "It's okay, just go to sleep," you mumbled groggily, still half asleep. You rubbed your eyes, looking over your shoulder at him through half lidded eyes. You'd never seen him look so.. miserable. And yet, you had no idea who he couldn't save. You had no idea how to help, all that you could really do in this position was stay where you were and offer him your presence.
Sleep did not come back to him after that, despite how comfortable your body felt next to him. Every time he shut his eyes, the image of Tempest's rotting corpse came to the forefront of his mind. How no matter how hard he'd tried, he had nothing to account for that in the end. All that he had to account for the amount of effort that he'd put in was the amount of guilt within himself, the amount of blame that he placed upon himself for not doing more. Even if the rational part of his brain tried to convince him that he did the most he could.
He looked over at you, entranced by the small fall and rise of your chest as you slept comfortably next to him. The way your mouth slightly parted to let out a couple snores. Silently admiring all the little things he took for granted in the few times that he had you in his bed. Probably would be the last time that he got to see you in such a vulnerable position. "I love you too, chiquita. It's always been you," he whispered, kissing the top of your head before closing his eyes once more.
He was tempted to pull you back into his chest once he saw you stirring awake, a yawn escaping from your lips. "Morning," he spoke up as he saw you get up from the couch, stretching your arms out. You looked restless, probably from the uncomfortable position you'd been forced in. "Morning," you didn't even bother looking back at him, going over to the kitchen to get started on making a fresh pot of coffee.
Miguel leaned against your kitchen counter, his attention solely focused on every single one of your movements. The coffee pod that you'd chosen to put in the machine- a vanilla espresso. The amount of sugars and creamers that you'd set down on the counter. The slight curve of your body as you leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The way that you tried to avoid his not so subtle staring, your eyes flickering to all the small surfaces around.
"Why'd you come to me last night?" you decided to bite the bullet and ask the question that'd been rummaging through your brain all night long. For claiming to have nothing 'serious' with you, he was sure comfortable coming to your apartment at wee hours of the night. Not that you discouraged that activity by any means, though. Maybe you were more responsible than you would've liked to admit.
"Because I needed you."
"You can't do this to me. Treat me as if I'm nothing to you and then seek me out when you're at your lowest."
"I never treated you as if you were nothing to me."
"And yet, we were nothing serious? Or are you going to deny saying that?" You were expecting for him to have some kind of comeback to that, but he stared down at his coffee like it was single-handedly the most interesting thing in the world. The silence almost suffocating, you could almost see the gears turning in that big head of his.
"Look I don't know what happened but serio-"
"Tempest.. passed away last night and I couldn't save her. No matter how much I tried to."
Now that had stunned you into staying quiet, an apology at the tip of your tongue. For what, exactly? For making assumptions or to offer your condolences? Both, most likely. But before you even got the chance to open your mouth, he was already speaking again. "The engagement was a farce. She needed access to insurance and she only managed to get that through being with me."
"And you felt as though you couldn't be honest with me? I know that we've slept together and I don't know about you, but I've spent longer than that loving you," you told him, setting your coffee mug down on the kitchen counter. A stupid mug that he'd gotten for you, World's Best Girlfriend Situationship.
"Look Miguel, I get that you're going through a lot but you can't expect for me to be here only when you want me to be around. I think I deserve more than that by this point."
You were so right. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but how could he say that when he'd treated you just the way you described ever since you came back? Even if he said so, he knew that his words wouldn't be enough to convince you otherwise. He stared at you in silently, his face conveying the pain that he wouldn't dare to voice out loud. Don't fall for it. Don't. As much as you wanted to comfort him, as much as a part of you couldn't bear to see him so upset, you needed to put your own needs above his own for once.
"Finish up your coffee and grab your clothes from the drier. I'll be here when you're ready to treat me like I mean something to you, but up until that point, I don't want to see you."
Miguel tried to prolong the couple sips of coffee he had, taking a few drops every two minutes. Anything that would give him the excuse to be around you longer than he should've. "I'm sorry," he spoke up, watching as you paused in cleaning your mug before resuming. "What's the point of saying sorry if you haven't done anything to change it yet?" your words came out so hushed, his ears practically perking up. If you'd noticed that he wasn't finishing up his coffee, you hadn't bothered to say anything just yet.
Miguel lost track of how many times he'd passed the sponge by the mug, lost in his own thought. How is it possible that he lost two of the people he cared about in less than 24 hours? He could practically see his own reflection in the mug by the time he decided to put the sponge down, rinsing the suds away. He walked over to the laundry room, grabbing his clothes before making his way out of your apartment. "Bye," his words were barely audible, unable to look at you or talk to you after how the last exchange had gone.
This time around, Miguel drove with extreme caution. Almost as a way to overcompensate for his rash behavior last night. He didn't even bother slamming his hand against the wheel when a car merged onto his lane without using their turn signal. At least he didn't have to go into work until Monday, leaving him enough time to seep into his self loathing. And to think about the fact that despite the fact he'd dreamed about the day you'd move back to Nueva York to be with you, it was starting to become more and more unattainable.
He was tempted on calling out on work when Monday rolled around, saying that he needed some time to grieve. But all that he'd been doing at home was look up at the ceiling and think about different alternatives. Alternatives where he wasn't a screw up. Alternatives where his efforts actually counted towards something, where he was actually saving people. A different alternative where you didn't hate him, where he was less of an idiot to prove to you just how much you actually meant to him.
Sleep didn't come to him that easily either. He'd spend hours counting sheep and listening to white noise only to find himself groaning into his pillow. Every position proving to be futile in his restless nights, the image of seeing Tempest in that hospital practically tattooed at the back of his eyelids every time he closed them. His eyes burned from how long he’d kept them open, his head pounding as it urged for him to take at least a nap. Not that he would listen.
Awake or not, his life was starting to become a continuous torment. Every day was the same miserable cycle, though he wasn't making any effort to change it either. Maybe he deserved to feel the way he did right now. It's what he told himself anytime that he was starting to feel the numbness get overwhelming. That he didn't deserve to have some relief from this grief. The days blurred onto one another to the point where he couldn't tell the distinction between them until he looked down at his phone to check the date.
Get up. Drink coffee. Eat two bites of an overpriced sandwich he'd buy at Alchemax. Work. Close eyes. Repeat until exhaustion.
Upon grabbing a fresh lab coat from his closet, he caught a glimpse of the suit he was supposed to wear for the wedding. The wedding ceremony that would've happened tomorrow. Instead, it would now be his funeral suit. He pushed the suit to the back of his closet, pulling his dress shirts over it to conceal the fact. Just looking at it had proved to be an eyesore. He grabbed the first pair of socks that he found, not even bothering to check that they were the same pair before putting his shoes on. Spoiler alert: One was bright red and the other one was a dull purple.
He ran a hand through his messy hair, the action doing completely nothing to aid the bird's nest in his hair. Hairs stuck out from every end and there had even accumulated a gloop of dry hair gel on his scalp. He was a mess in every sense of the word. If that was even a strong enough word to describe his current state. He wasn't even sure when he bothered to take more than a five minute shower, maybe a week ago? Though he told himself that a couple days ago so he wasn't truly sure how much time had really passed.
"Puta madre," he grumbled, a couple of the comb's teeth falling from the sheer force that he'd exuded into just trying to run it through a couple strands. Miguel tugged on the comb with a bit more force, though it wouldn't go through no matter how much he wanted it to. He set down the black comb, rummaging through his cabinets to find a new one. He'd be lying if he said that the sight of seeing Tempest's stuff mixed in with his didn't make a couple tears run down his cheeks. From the halfway finished hair products to the new perfume that she was wanting to try out.
After breaking a couple more brushes, Miguel decided to give up on the effort to fix up his appearance. Not that he even needed to put that much effort, much of the interns didn't even bother to put on deodorant before they showed up. He'd completely forgotten about the work meeting that was set up for today, stepping into the room about ten minutes later. The attention of the room went to him immediately, the loud slam of the door behind him doing nothing to aid the situation. He muttered a half ass sorry before going to sit down.
Gloved fingers snapped in front of him, disrupting whatever little train of thought was coursing through his head. Miguel couldn't even bother to hide the irritation in his face as he turned to look at Aaron, raising his eyebrows as he waited for the shorter man to speak. He was almost tempted to laugh at the way that Aaron had to huff out his chest to put on an intimidating facade. Trying so very hard to present the small bit of authority that Tyler Stone had placed upon him. And failing, truthfully.
"Get your head out your ass and listen closely. Mr. Stone can't handle any mistakes in this project," Aaron's voice seemed so far away, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing that he did mattered, anyways. He couldn't keep the girl. He couldn't save anyone. Aaron's voice faded out into a low hum, a garble of technical nonsense. How the project at hand could put human lives at stake if done incorrectly and of how it could improve lives if it actually worked. Nonsense he's heard time and time again.
He didn't even realize he was dozing off, his body slumped against the rolling chair behind him. "Wake the hell up or you're fired in the next five seconds! Mr. Stone requested to see you in his office," that same damn voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard broke him out of his slumber, a large palm slamming on the desk in front of him. Miguel grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, willing himself to wake up before getting up from his chair. He ignored the small snickers that followed after he departed the room.
Miguel took the opportunity to step into one of the bathrooms, taking the opportunity to look over himself before he appeared in front of Mr. Stone. He didn't need to receive a lecture on unprofessionalism on top of the lecture he was probably going to receive already. Not that he cared all that much, but he wasn't sure just how much more yelling he could take with the steady pounding in his head. Rumors floated around people getting fired for even looking at Mr. Stone in a way that they shouldn't have, his ruling over the company an iron fist.
He splashed some cold water on his face, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the last remnants of sleep that lingered behind. The water did nothing to aid with the redness in his eyes, the sleep deprivation apparent to anyone who would spare a second glance. Luckily enough for him, Mr. Stone couldn't care less if his mental health was deteriorating. He grabbed a bottle of eye drops from his coat pocket, squirting some of the substance into his eyes before making his way over to Mr. Stone's office.
Miguel brought his hand up to the large wooden door, knocking on it twice. He looked up to see the camera hanging above the door now pointed towards his direction, the stare from it lasting for a couple seconds than what was necessary. A loud buzz came through the large doors before they opened to reveal the space that was Mr. Stone's office. If it could even called that. While interns were forced to work downstairs in cubicles with a half-functioning air conditioner, Mr. Stone had a tiger rug placed in the center of the room.
Miguel almost felt bad for getting the floor dirty, his eyes shifting to what else the office had to offer. Large windows that went from the top of the wall down to the floor, presenting a perfect view of the Nueva York skyline. The sunlight coming through the windows reflected onto the gold podiums that he had set up, the sight almost painful to look at. Mr. Stone turned around in the rolling chair he was on in a villainous fashion. Miguel was almost surprised that he didn't have a white cat on his lap to finish up the touch.
"O'Hara, right?" While Aaron tried so hard to exude power he didn't have, all Mr. Stone had to do was speak. He could almost feel the temperature drop a couple degrees from the sheer coldness of his voice. "That's me, sir. I heard you wanted to see me," Miguel spoke up, clearing his throat. He stood at a distance, not making the slightest attempt to move closer unless Mr. Stone asked for him to do so. Mr. Stone stayed quiet for a couple seconds, analyzing him carefully from head to toe before speaking,
"We're testing out a new drug at the facility. It's completely safe for consumption and I believe it's what you need to get over this grieving period."
"Excuse me?" It was the first time that Miguel had heard of an employer actually promoting the usage of drugs, though it was no secret that a majority of Wall Street in Nueva York was high off cocaine just to get through business meetings. He expected Mr. Stone to tell him that it was a test, to see if he would take the bait but all he got in return was more silence from the man. Suddenly, he stood up and dusted off his suit. A suit that probably cost more than his apartment building if he had to guess. "Please, follow me. I have something to show you."
Tyler unlocked a steel door with his ID badge, the temperature inside the room enough to make Miguel shiver underneath the thin white lab coat he had on. He wanted to turn around, tell Tyler that he wasn't interested in this anymore but a green vial was placed in the palm of his hand. "Look, I'm not telling you that you need to take it but just know that we have the resources here to help you," Tyler really was trying to amp up this caring persona up to the max with his soft way of talking.
"Just think about it, okay? You have full access to this center of the facility from now on in case you do end up taking it," Tyler finished up as the two of them stepped out of the room, leaving Miguel with a decision to make. A decision that had he been in the right state of mind wouldn't even be up for debate at all. And yet, here he was actually considering going through with what Mr. Stone had told him. By the time that Miguel came back to the conference office, he found the room void of anything other than the things he left behind. He stuffed the vial deep into his pocket before going to pick up his things.
Miguel held the vial between his thumb and pointer finger, analyzing what he could about the drug. From what he could discern from the bottle, the drug didn't seem too different from over the counter pain prescriptions. But he's seen things over the months, seen the way that Alchemax deliberately failed to mention certain ingredients just to get FDA approval. The way that they put human safety at the bottom of their priority list, funding for research at the top. Of the experiments locked away in the basement begging for some kind of mercy, for the chemicals to stop making every breath impossible.
And yet, with that doubt in his mind, he injected the drug into the first vein that he could find on his arm. The pounding in his head dissipated to a low hum, the pressure from his body relieved. He felt the best he had in days, the exhaustion from his body was something of the past. He felt like he was on top of the world, like he was able to run a marathon and win first place. Everything seemed much easier now, making him even wonder what he was even depressed about. There was truly nothing else that could replicate the blissful feeling inside of him.
Funny to think about how he'd gotten on his brother for having a vape a few years back. A 'Very Juicy Mango Pod' that was on the market for lasting longer than normal vapes. Half the school had been indulging in those substances just to get through the day, something that he hadn't dabbled in and quite frankly would never dabble in. He hated that feeling, the feeling of having no control over his body. Of only being susceptible to that temporary euphoria. The feeling of only having relief with one hit of those things.
"You know that stuff's gonna fuck up your lungs, right?" His tone was condescending, only because he truly did care about Gabriel. He wafted the thick smoke blown at his face, his eyes narrowing slightly upon seeing the stupid grin on Gabriel's face. "That's just a rumor, hermanito. You can't really say anything until you try it out," Gabriel retorted, dangling the small bar in front of him. Miguel took the vape from his hands after what seemed to the forth dangle, hesitantly bringing it to his lips. He inhaled, the smoke traveling down to his lungs immediately.
He coughed, his body immediately rejecting the substance. How anyone liked that stuff was beyond him. He practically tossed it back to Gabriel, the touch of the bar almost enough to disgust him. "Just.. don't get hooked on that stuff, I care about you too much to lose you," Miguel told Gabriel, sitting down next to him. It was one of the couple times where he expressed love for his brother verbally rather than letting his actions do the talking. "I know and I won't, I promise," Gabriel's voice was full of determination, an arm slung around Miguel's shoulders.
The next morning when he woke up to go to school, he found Gabriel's small stash of pods and bars tossed in the depths of trash can. Some of which he'd barely bought at an outrageously high price from a plug. Though when Miguel had asked him about it, Gabriel simply shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I don't want to give you reasons to worry about me. You do that enough as it is," Gabriel assured him, letting him know that he'd done him a favor. "I know it was hard but thank you," Miguel told him, the two going out for lunch after school that day.
The low hit him harder than he could've expected. It hit him when he was at home, watching the news on TV. The reporter was babbling about some robbery that happened on 54th Avenue, but all he could think about was when he would be able to get his next fix of the damned drug. His mouth practically salivated at the idea of having it in his system once more. Within that need however, there also resided a deep feeling of guilt. A guilt that was clawing him from the inside out, yelling at him to stop what he was doing. That Tempest, his mother, Gabriel, and you would all be disappointed in what he was doing.
"Shut up, shut up!" He yelled at nothing in particular, tossing his remote control at the TV with more force than necessary. The TV changed into an array of colors before shifting into black and white, the remote almost cracking the screen upon further inspection. He paced around his living room floor, the pounding in his heart difficult to ignore. Sweat dripped down from his forehead despite the fact that he turned the AC to the lowest he could without freezing to death, his body begging for just one more hit. Just one.
The urge to have more of that small green vial overwhelmed every sense of his being. Just five minutes without the drug made him feel like he was drowning. He thought he felt pathetic before but this was a new low even for him. Sitting down on his bathroom floor, injecting a fresh vial of Rapture just so he wouldn't feel like he was completely losing his mind. It didn't even feel pleasurable as it did the first time, but it did help with bringing back his body to stable levels. It helped him to forget the small voice in his head that was screaming at him to be rational.
The red beaming light from the camera placed on the steel ceilings of the laboratory seemed to mock him every time that he approached the storage room. Despite how many cameras were placed across the laboratory, he couldn't help but feel that this one was zeroing in on every movement he made. On every new vial that he grabbed. Almost as if Mr. Stone was checking up on him, checking to see if he fell for his carefully woven trap. And he did. His pockets were stuffed full of vials, trying to assure that he wouldn't have to go without them.
He was starting to become a brainless zombie. Coming into work with the illusion that he'd be able sneak in a couple vials of Rapture during his lunch break without capturing anyone's attention. Though, rumors had been starting to circulate. Hushed whispers about how the one with the most promise at Alchemax was now a drug addicted fiend. Not that anyone would ever said that to say his face, the whispers died down every time he was in close proximity.
“Hey, have you talked to Miguel recently? He hasn’t been answering my calls and that’s just not like him, y’know?” Gabriel called to ask you around three in the morning. Clearly the brothers had a taste for waking you up at the ass crack of dawn. “No, I haven’t. I haven’t talked to him in like three weeks, I wanna say. Let me know if you hear from him though,” you responded, rubbing your eyes as you tried to stay awake for Gabriel’s sake. “I will, thank you. And please, don’t give up on him. I know he’s an idiot but his heart’s in the right place.”
You looked down at Miguel’s contact information, wondering if you should call him. You did tell him to leave you alone if he wasn’t willing to prove himself to you. And if he hasn’t answered his own brother’s phone calls, then why should he answer yours? After letting the thought seep in, you decided to dial his number. You were hoping for some kind of miracle, that you’d be the one he would make an exception for. “Please leave your message after the beep. BEEP!” Was the only response you received though.
“Hey, I know I said I wasn’t going to talk to you but please call me or Gabriel. Just let us know you’re alive, please. He’s really worried about you. Okay, well I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Bye.”
Calls from Gabriel went unanswered along with the thousand voice messages that he'd left, asking him how he was and expressing concern for him. "Llámame cabron, que estoy preocupado por ti.” I've asked around and no one's heard from you in a couple days. For your sake, I hope you're not dead in a ditch," was what the last message had transcribed to, Gabriel's voice a pitch higher. Usually, Miguel wouldn't have let his brother worry this much about him but he couldn't feign being sober to save his life.
He couldn't take it anymore. The urge that he had to feel that high, even for a couple seconds only to end up feeling like complete crap after he'd taken it. The lows were what got him to get up and inject that poison into his system, the thoughts in his head too much to bear. If he thought that it was bad before the drugs, it was much more worse now. The images of Tempest were much more vivid now, he could practically feel her cold fingers on his skin as she pleaded him for something. He couldn't make out what that something was, it was just an endless string of 'please.'
He was taking the drug more so out of obligation. His body goes cold after a few minutes of sobriety, trembling as his grip on reality starts to waver. The drug offered him shorter periods of relief with every new vial that he inserted into his body, but it offered him some kind of relief. Even if it was just fifteen minutes of letting him forget about the misery that his life was. It wasn't until he looked at his reflection in the mirror that he realized how truly screwed he was, how much he'd been disregarding his own health.
Miguel could hardly recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror. He let out a small gasp when he stuck his hand out, his reflection meeting him halfway. Was this what he had become? His eyes lacked any signs of energy, dark circles ringing underneath. He wasn't even sure when was the last time he managed to sleep more than twenty minutes at a time. His stubble was in patches, a couple splotches of red skin from the scratching he had been doing. He couldn't take looking at this stranger anymore. He punched the mirror out of fury, the pieces shattering below him.
What haunted him the most about looking down at those pieces is that he still saw the reflection of that stranger looking back at him.
After doing some extensive research on all the chemicals that Rapture contained, he came to a conclusion that he already knew at the back of his head. There was no way to break the addiction, not without death involved at least. The drug was unlike any others that he'd seen, the chemical components much higher than some of the hardcore drugs on the market. It changed his genetic makeup to the point where he needed the drug as much as he needed oxygen to breathe. Even slow withdrawals from the drug was a guaranteed death. Every treatment was futile against said drug.
Miguel didn't even want to think about what Mr. Stone was capable of doing if he caught whiff that he was trying to break loose from the viscous cycle he was in. He seemed so eager to get Miguel to take the drug, surely he must've known what effects the drug would take on his body. All the research that he did was on a private network in the safety of his apartment, where he could keep the information safe. He'd come up with one final conclusion, that he needed to change his genetic component back to what it was before getting hooked on Rapture.
Maybe he shouldn't have been so cocky in his own abilities. He really should've done more research on what the dangers of altering his DNA would be. Though, anything would be a relief from the constant nagging in his head for more. More. More. More. The straps on the side of the capsule he was standing in secured him into place, a low hum from the machine next to him indicating that it was ready to start. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, all while hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Though, anything would be better than what he was going through right now.
Aaron truly didn't expect anyone else to be at the lab at this hour, even the workaholics at the lab had their limits. He was there to pick up a couple files that he needed for one of the reports Mr. Stone had asked for, but how could he possibly miss out on this opportunity that just presented to him so perfectly? Even through the green rays of the machine, he could see Miguel O'Hara standing there in his full glory. Attempting not to grimace from the burning sensation coursing through his very veins. Oh, how'd he dreamed of this moment.
All the times Miguel poked fun at him, the times that he'd belittled his work, and all the times that he'd managed to outshine him were the perfect motivation for Aaron to code spider DNA into the system. See how he likes that. The studies on animal DNA altering humans wasn't promising, a 99.999% mortality rate as of yet. He didn't care. Nobody would find out about what he'd done, he knew Mr. Stone would remove all the security footage if it came to that point. He amped up the machine to the max, staring at the capsule eagerly.
Agonizing screams followed soon after Aaron departed from the scene, a traitorous laugh escaping from his throat upon realizing what he'd done. "AARON!" Miguel's yells echoed into the steel hallways, bouncing off the walls though Aaron was less the wiser. It was truthfully the best melody that Aaron had heard in his life, hearing one of the men he hated the most cry out for help without actually receiving any aid. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Miguel's voice was raw from the screaming he'd been doing. The machine beeped loudly, indicating that the genetic splicing was now finished.
Miguel stepped out of the chamber, wobbling and stumbling through the laboratory floor before touching what he assumed was a table. He gripped the edges of the table, blinking rapidly to ease the blurriness that clouded his vision. Everything felt odd. His body didn't feel like it belonged to him, it felt like it belonged to some monster. Long claws protruded from his fingers, scratching the table the harder he tried to hold onto. He ran his tongue through his teeth, letting out a small groan upon feeling a sharp sensation on the side.
Fangs..? No, he must be daydreaming. Some after effect of long term exposure to Rapture. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to wake up from this torment, he remained still. Footsteps pattered in the hallways, a reminder that someone else had been witness to this situation. Miguel ran faster than he was ever able to, tackling Aaron onto the ground in a matter of mere seconds. Miguel gripped Aaron's arms above his head, paying no attention to the sound of ripping flesh. All that Miguel knew is that he needed answers and he needed them now.
"What the hell did you put in me?!" The accusation didn't come out the way he expected it to, a lisp in his words. Aaron winced in pain from the prickles that Miguel was inducing with his claws, a self satisfied smirk on his face at seeing what he'd managed to reduce the man to nonetheless. "ANSWER ME!" Miguel's voice boomed through the empty hallways, echoing throughout the dead of night. He swore that the vein throbbing in his forehead was about to pop the second that he saw Aaron laughing.
Miguel tossed Aaron to the side without any regard to where he landed, going back to the lab to look for any hints of what Aaron had coded into the system. He went back to the previous code, seeing that some form of spider DNA had been entered into the system. He shouldn't even be alive right now. Not when all the other people who'd gone through this procedure morphed into a version of the creature before ultimately exploding. His head was spinning with the realization, not even bothering to notice the fact that he didn't need the drug anymore.
He looked down at his phone, his finger hovering above your contact name as he debated on whether or not he should call you. Before he got the chance to make a decision though, police sirens blared loudly out of the building. The sound seemed to rattle his head, his ears all too sensitive to the sound. Miguel got down on his knees, pressing his hands to his ears in hopes that it would alleviate with the pain. It did not. All he could do was hope that the sound would soon go away while he curled up into a ball.
"NYPD! Come outside with your hands up!" A man's voice boomed through a loudspeaker. Miguel looked around, trying to find a way out of the facility. He could hear the boot stomps from the first floor, every possible exit blockaded by the police. So he did the most logical thing he could think of. He jumped out of the window and swung? Wait, what? Sure enough, he looked down at his wrists to see a small pocket shooting out white webs. Though, he really should've been paying more attention to the sights in front of him.
THUMP
He crashed face first into a building, a measly web falling from his wrist next to him.
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