Miguel O'hara Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

Alright

*clasps hand*

I love you so very much, and I’ll be watching you from your window. (Inside joke)

How about… cowboy!Miggy spectating a gal and her pals, she’s challenged to ride one of those rodeo bulls by her friends and fell like, three seconds in. Obvi she failed, so she has to go get another round of shots for her friends. So he took the opportunity to offer some lessons with the cowboy himself😇

EL TORO 🐂

✭ 18+ Cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader ✭

✭ summary: losing a bet with your best friends, you buy drinks after failing to stay on a mechanical bull for eight seconds, but before you buy another round of drinks, a local cowboy helps you…

✭ content warning: sexual innuendos, Miguel is a little unhinged, dry humping, grinding, cumplay (?), cum-eating (?), semi-exhibitionism, hook-up with a stranger, and alcohol is mentioned. VIEWER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

✭ word count: +1.8k words

✭ a/n: AUGHHHH cowboy! Miguel has me in a chokehold omfg. but here you go, pookie! thank you for your undying support and love! Your wish has been granted 💋 (if there are flaws, I apologize in advance 🩷)

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

Orange opaque lights make up the dimly lit bar. Locals from around were either at a table, drinking away from those green beer bottles you grew familiar with ever since you were younger, or seeing your uncles consume those bottles at a baptism or a wedding banquet. Or you saw the occasional burnt middle-aged man sitting at the island counter, rambling to the bartender about his day, complaining about his cattle or the weather. But for you, you came to the bar unwillingly, as your best friends insisted that you liven up the environment.

But really, it was a pathetic excuse to get you out of your grandparent's bungalow home and to meet someone.

・º♢

"Come on! It'll be fun!" Xina urges, flashing her signature smug smile that always appears when she's up to something mischievous. It was always the same arrogant look she did whenever y'all were kids when she got extra chips or a cookie from her pantry closet. Hell, it was the same look your other friends gave you whenever your grandmother or grandfather offered them fresh fruits from their farm.

"No," you quickly retort, sipping your cocktail. "Please!" MJ pleads, grasping your wrists and seemingly ready to kneel. "PLEASE!" Xina soon exclaims, joining MJ to cause a scene with those around you.

"Xina, MJ…!"

"PLEASE!" They draw out the last syllable together, their voice taking on a childish tone reminiscent of when they were eight years old, fleeing from a honey bee or spider. "Okay! Okay..." You groan out, shaking your head in defeat.

"Yes!" Xina pumps her fist in victory before removing your fruity margarita from your hands and placing it on the table. "Now get on! And if you don't last eight seconds, you pay for our next round of drinks!" A low groan emerges from the back of your throat like alcohol stinging your esophagus, ready to escape. But your body, unfortunately, didn't want to do that for you so you could weasel out of the bet. You look back to see MJ at y'all's table, keeping an eye on the drinks while looking at Xina guide (dragging) you across the bar.

Your shoes squeak against the wooden floors as you get pushed to the mechanical bull area. "Just stay on there for eight seconds, and you don't have to pay for our round of shots." You and Xina passed through the semi-packed bar, occasionally brushing shoulders from a couple of guests in the bar. But one character caught your attention, nearly knocking you off your feet.

His russet brown eyes burned into your soul while his cowboy hat shielded the glisten in his eyes, giving him a dead look by any bystander who dared to make eye contact with him. His eyes match yours, lingering on your orbs. The prolonged millisecond of eye contact seized when he smirked, his eyes lingering on you and you only.

His hands, weathered and rugged, bore the marks of hard work - dry, with occasional scars and scratches, yet exuding strength. They were the hands of a hard-working man, capturing attention as much as his eyes did, capturing attention as much as his eyes did. His shirt was unbuttoned, clearly showing a bit of his chest and hair peppered. Oh, how it would feel to be held in those strong hands... Or how his hands would hold onto your hips while bouncing on his dick—

"C'mon! It's your turn to get on!" Xina urges, directing your attention away from the man and to your inevitable end of the night- falling off a mechanical bull within three seconds.

/

You sit at your table, hair somewhat touseled about while you order the next round of drinks for you and your rowdy group of friends. You looked at the half-assed served shot glass and glared at your best friends as they took their shots. With a sigh of defeat, you walk to the bar counter and take a seat on the wooden stool, covering your face and hiding away the embarrassment.

You settled onto the bar counter, absently running your finger along the smooth rim of your shot glass. A sense of intrusion picked at your gut as you felt someone trespassing on your personal space. Glancing to your left, you saw the familiar figure of the man from earlier, seated a few stools away. Your eyes dart back to the tiny glass in your hands, playing with it.

"You couldn't last eight seconds."

That sounded more evocative than it had to.

"Excuse me?"

"3.4 seconds." He adds, not acknowledging the rhetorical question you spat out. "You're those women having to give up straddling like how a car needs an oil change."

What the—

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"You lack balance, sweetheart. And movement." He lifts his shot glass, calling the bartender to refill his shot glass. "It’s straightforward."

"Oh yeah, since you seem to know everything about it, give me some constructive criticism then." You reiterate, knowing that this man was going to play the smartass card with you by sharing information that is useless or already known by the public.

"You’re not engaging your core, and you don't have any balance on your hips." He sighs before mumbling about city folk and getting off his seat. "C’mere." He waved his hand over, ushering you to get close. You didn't know if it was your being an actual dumbass, but you got off your seat and made your way over.

"M’kay," He sighs before getting off his seat and touching your hips. “It's all here, sweetheart. You have to move with the bull; it's called inertia," His hand rests on your hips and squeezes that specific area. "Always move in the opposite direction of the mechanical bull."

"If the bull moves forward, you move back. And if the bull moves back…?"

"I move forward?"

He nods before patting your tummy. "And engage your core a bit. You have abs under there, sweetheart."

His words of advice continue but they muffled out while taking note of his hand resting against your soft stomach, feeling the heat of his palm.

You take note of his words and stop. "Wait, how do you know how to do this?"

"Take it or leave it." He mumbles before he takes his shot and slams the shot glass down. "Actually," He clears his throat and sighs. "Tell them you want to redeem yourself, then tell your friend, the one who dared you to ride the bull, to buy the bill, and I owe you a drink if you make it past eight seconds."

"And if you don't, you owe me a drink."

He removes his hands from your soft stomach and sits back on the stool. "It’s your decision, sweetheart."

You think momentarily, considering the options he placed on the table. The idea of not having to pay a tab and getting a free drink sounded satisfying.

"Will you show me how?"

"Sure, why not?"

/

Sitting on his lap in the darkest, dingiest parts of the bar was not in the plans, but your pigheadedness said otherwise. You straddle down on his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders. "Keep your balance, sweetheart." His right hand pats on your hip before bucking his hips against yours, earning a low groan from him.

"Engage your core and move in the opposite direction of me." His warm breath fans your face before he bucks his hips once again to your clothed sex. A soft mewl escapes your lips, feeling his clothed bulge against your clothed entrance.

"You can do it, c’mon…”

You pathetically moved against his aching bulge, pushing your moist gusset against his denim jeans. "There we go, move your hips to gain balance, move with me."

His dick twitched underneath you, pushing up to be free from its constraints. You slowly gyrated down, bucking your hips against his movement, creating a comfortable tempo.

A choked groan verberates your chest, sending the sensation to Miguel, earning a low moan from the man. "C'mon, keep it up." He jerks his bulge upwards, finally finding its way in between your clothed folds. You wailed, feeling his length now against your clothed clit, rubbing against the sensitive bud slowly and deliciously. You could sense the arousal trickling down to your soaked gusset and gathering the slick arousal in the cloth. "You can do it."

You patted his shoulder and took in deep breaths.

"Try again." His usual staid words slowly evolved into breathy whimpers. Miguel's words of affirmation slowly died, becoming breathy moans and grunts. The typical demands slowly turned into begging as you continued to push downwards, feeding the desires you two desperately wanted.

"Muneca..." He rasps out before you see his hands scramble down to his belt.

The sound of his belt clinking was enough of an indicator, but you knew what was next. The sound, let alone left you salivating with anticipation.

"Grind on the length."

Oh... Oh.

Glancing down, your eyes widen at the sight. Sure, he was pushing seven inches but the girth... With your left hand, you move the gusset of your underwear to the side and slowly guide your aching core down to his length, slowly enveloping his length into your soaked folds.

A low groan verberates your chest cavity, soaking the length of your slick, sticky arousal. The slippery sensation of your clit gliding down Miguel’s length, creating delicious friction.

"C’mon, move your hips."

Your body went on autopilot on that demand, relying on your slick arousal to move fluidly on his length. "You're a fast learner, aren't you?" He groans out quietly, still holding onto your hips.

Soft pants and groans filled the small space and evolved into loud guttural groans from both of y'all.

"Sweetheart, slow down a bit." His breathy request fell on deaf ears before you did as he demanded. "You're humping me like I'm your pillow." He groans out before he adjusts you off his length, feeling the slick linger onto his skin.

He takes his pointer and middle finger, gathers the slick off his length, and places said fingers at the bottom plush of your lips, lightly tapping them, almost asking for permission. "Seems like you understand what I say," He pats your rear lovingly with his free hand before you suckle on his fingers, tasting the mess you left behind. He hums while you clean the pads of his fingers clean.

"Now, ride the bull for me." He demands.

/

The walk back to the lively scenery returned you to your senses as you prepared to confront your little group of friends. The conversation jumped about like crickets hopping around a long grassy field. It felt like there was no point in being driven before you challenged them against their better judgment and bet. Xina's lips pursed straight, and she nodded to her other girlfriends. The group looked at each other momentarily and caved in, just to see themselves embarrass themselves for the second time that night.

But it wasn't going to happen again...

Straddling down on the pseudo-bull, you looked out to the semi-lively bar, seeing your friends watching from afar and your 'mentor' looking at you while taking a shot. With a raise of his brow and tipping his cowboy hat, a surge of content rested in your belly.

hello there! 21, but going on anon. could i request a pregnant reader who is feeling incredibly insecure about her body. after an instance where a woman openly flirts and asks miguel out in front of her, she breaks down crying. miguel reassures her and they start having the craziest, wildest, hottest sex imaginable

GROWING PAINS

✭ 🔞 Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader ✭

✭ summary: pregnancy is a challenge, not for the morning sickness or having the urge to pee every other step but for the outside challenges that create tension.

✭ content warning: mentions of morning sickness (if you have emetophobia, skip the first five paragraphs), degenerate home-wrecker, comfort, pregnancy sex, and p-in-v penetration.

✭ word count: +2.1k words

✭ (a/n): let me get a crack at it 😋 I had fun working on this 💜🪻 (if there are errors I missed, please let me know!)

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

The nausea of the day came in like waves during a full moon at the beach. The smell of toilet water and bleach greeted your nose while kneeling in front of the toilet before you. Dry heaving became a regular habit as the smell of toilet water didn’t contribute to the nauseating sensation.

“Are we okay, cariño?” His voice sent chills down your spine as you rested your head on the toilet seat. “No…” You whined, sounding like a child who had their toy taken away. “C’mon, don't rest your head right there…” Miguel cooes to you.

A low groan escapes your throat as you wait in anticipation to throw up, already wanting the feeling to pass by. “Do you want some tea? It'll help with the morning sickness.” He suggests to you before kneeling next to you and rubbing your lower back slowly.

“Yeah…” You groaned out before your body lurched another heave out of you.

“It’s okay…” He whispers quietly and holds your hair back. “Let it out if you need to.” He blows air to your face, cooling you down from the warm sensation you feel all over your body. But the salvation in your mouth still lingered.

“Thanks…”

/

“Miguel!” You called out to him from the bathroom, looking down at your swelling belly. “Yes, cariño?” He steps into view, returning from his morning workout. A soft kiss on the forehead gives you small butterflies in your stomach before you remember why you called him in.

“Can you please get more coconut butter at the store? I need some more for the stretch marks.” You raised (his) your hoodie to reveal the glistening stretch marks and slightly swelling belly.

“Hmm, did we run out already?” He makes his way over before he ruffles your hair and looks through the medicine cabinet. “Could have sworn we had some.” He mumbles before his palm rests on your belly, allowing his thumb to caress the marks.

“No, we ran out.” You add, getting on your tiptoes to peek at the medicine cabinet for the umpteenth time.

He nods after his eyes mindlessly scan the pill bottles, toiletries, and some of your make-up items. He clicks his tongue and moves his palm away from your belly. “Yeah, I'll get you some more, cariño. Let me jump in the shower first and then go to the store. I don't need to smell like sweat.”

The comment made you pout. The post-workout smell always lured you in, like catnip. You could cling near him and bask in his smell if you wanted to.

“Do you want to join me?” You nod eagerly, taking off the hoodie and tossing it at him.

/

“Do you want to go to the bathroom, sweetheart?” This is the same umpteenth question he asked you while you walked around your local mall down. “No, I'm fine.” He lightly squeezes your hand and gives you the look. The “you better go” look, as Miguel always fell victim to making frequent stops in gas stations or stores to satisfy your bladder whenever the two of you drove around.

“Just go, baby…” Miguel sighs, patting your lower back before he playfully spanks your rear.

You huff before you shuffle into the public restroom while resting your hand on your swelling tummy.

The sight was always amusing for Miguel; it was adorable—the sundress, the comfy sandals, and your hair neatly done. But the adorable sight was interrupted almost immediately. Two hands grasp his arm with such a grip that it can make anyone’s muscle ache from under the skin, even enough to bruise the muscle. Miguel shrugs it off and looks over to the source. “Aren’t you handsome?” The voice coaxed him before her hands squeezed his bicep. He shrugs his arm away and looks over to the bathrooms instead.

“I’m married.” Miguel’s statement lingered in the air before she looked at his arm and took in the sight of him like he was a tall glass of water.

“So am I.” She giggles before she looks up at Miguel with doe eyes. The discomfort arose in his stomach as if he had had a terrible dinner waiting to be released.

“Where’s your husband then?” He questions, hearing the fear in his voice. He shrugs her hand away from his arm again and waits at the bathroom in anticipation for his little wife, you, to return. But the yapping woman continued to speak, not getting any social signals that Miguel wasn't interested.

“He’s at—” Her words cut off before her features go ghost white, enough to mistake her for a blank piece of printer paper waiting to be scribbled on with a permanent marker.

“Miguel.”

A smile of relief paints his features as he walks over to you and gently takes your hand. Your attention is on the woman, seeing her twirl her hair with her fingers. She only giggles and immediately stops when she sees your swelling belly underneath your sundress. “Oh honey, I bet you can't satisfy your husband while you look like you're about to pass out.” She continues to yap, not caring about the looks of disgust from other women around the area. “Cariño, let’s go.” Miguel urges, not comfortable with the woman now harassing you and, arguably, your unborn child.

“Married men are allowed to cheat on their pregnant wives…”

You open your mouth, only to get tugged away from her by your husband, who does not want you to make a scene in such a public environment.

“Not interested. I love my wife dearly.” He steps in, lightly tugging you away from the uncomfortable space.

But hearing the words wasn't enough. For the past few weeks, you've been down on the stoops. Despite being your second trimester, the morning sickness faded away but lingered like a bug—the stretch marks on your belly, the constant bathroom stops, and the aching feet.

The weight of a burden rested on your shoulders like you were carrying pails of water up a mountain with your heart. It pulled you down into the earth’s core.

“C’mon, baby…” He pleads once again, gently tugging you away from the degenerate woman.

/

The car ride back home from the mall felt like the most uncomfortable situation for Miguel. Sure, it wasn't his fault, but it damn well felt like it was when this woman threw herself at him, having no good intentions.

Despite him pushing her away with his words, she relented nonstop, picking and picking at Miguel like a vet ticking fleas away from a stray cat.

He glanced at you, but you turned away from him while sitting on the passenger side, looking only at the window. He occasionally squeezed your thigh while trying to engage in a conversation. But it always ended immediately with your simple one-word answers.

/

Your portions were smaller during dinner. A small scoopful of your dinner was ‘enough’ for you.

“Cariño,” His voice breaks the silence on the dining room table while you move a small broccoli around with your fork. “Is that all you’re going to eat?”

“Yeah, I’m okay with this.”

He frowns at the meek portions. This was your favorite dinner throughout your pregnancy. Now? You eat as if it were the thing you despised the most.

“Cariño, can we talk about what happened?”

“No, no, we don't.” You intervene, stopping his words.

He furrows his brows, and the subtle pout on his lips says that he isn't going to let this go. “…yes, we do.” He steps in, gently taking your hand in his.

“Cariño, honey.” His eyes soften, allowing his thumb to massage your knuckles in small circles.

“I am sorry—”

You shake your head, looking up from your plate. “No, don't apologize. It’s not even your fault.” You put his words to an end before you slide your hand away from his. “I feel…”

You sit back in your seat and put your hands up in defeat, feeling tears form. “I don't know.”

Nothing came to mind. Your brain was murky like muddy water on the side of the road. “I feel bloated and unappealing and pent up.” You expressed many words, but none nailed the coffin of feelings that were forming in your heart. His palm finds its way to your cheek and lovingly cups it while wiping away your tears.

“Hey,” His mellow tone greets you but doesn't fully envelope you. “Please, cariño. Take a moment to breath.”

“I don't know,” You sniffle a bit before looking at your swelling belly. “I don't like being unappealing.” The words finally found on your lips, spilling out like word vomit.

“No, baby. Look at you. You are beautiful.” He places his hand on your belly, slowly moving the sundress around with his touch. “You are carrying our baby, our beautiful baby. You've been nothing but glowing. You are glowing to the point where you light up a room. You make rooms look good. A room where our family will grow, all thanks to you.”

You laughed through your tears, hearing his ramble. But the simile managed to put the tears to an end. “You make spaces look good, feel good.” He slowly helps you from your seat, easing you to your feet. He stands behind you, bringing you close to his chest. His hands slowly move, soon placing them on the bottom of your swelling belly, lifting the belly upwards, easing your lower back.

You stagger back in relief, resting back on him. “There we go.” He whispers, seeing your brows relax and your eyes close blissfully. “But I think that woman is right. You look exhausted.”

You hum to his statement, caving in to his warmth and touch. “Yeah,” You exhale. “I am exhausted.”

“Do you want me to take care of you?”

“…please.”

/

"Let me know if it's too much, cariño." He whispers, slowly laying you down on your shared bed. Your back decompressed against the mattress, earning a sigh of relief from you. "It's never too much." Your reassuring smile puts him at ease in his lower stomach. "Just let me know, please." He still pleads, taking off his sweatshirt and disregarding it to some odd corner of the room. "Let's lift this..." His hands work their way to the hem of the dress, lifting the skirt up.

"Lay on your side for me, nena." He demands, slowly helping you lay down and surrounding your belly with toss pillows.

The sound of his zipper filled the space, causing you to look over your shoulder and see Miguel immediately taking off his pants and boxers. His hands pull at your underwear, revealing your core, waiting for him and him only. The sound of the bed settling down increased the anticipation, feeling him bring you close to his chest before his hand fondles your breast ever so gently. "Take a deep breath-"

"Just put it in, Miguel."

Your demands come true as you feel the same familiar stretch at your core, earning a low moan from the both of you. "There we go." He groans, grinding his bulbous tip against your cervix.

"Harder, Miguel." You plead to him, feeling the soft grinding and his length rubbing against your puffy clit. "I don't want to hurt you or the baby." He whispers, keeping the soft motions.

"You won't hurt me or the baby. I promise.” You sigh and only push your rear to his hip. “I can handle it.”

That sentence is enough for Miguel to cave in and come to his desires. “Oh my god…” You sigh, pushing down onto his length. The slow strokes savored your gummy walls as if you were the main dish at a fine cuisine. “Look at you, so pretty.”

The slow strokes slowly became harsh and rapid. Gushing and slapping filled the space as you felt your nails claw at the bedsheets. “You like that, huh?” He breaths out before he lets go of your breasts and holds onto your hip instead. The single twitch on his cock sends you into a chokehold, leaving you clawing for more.

“Yes, keep doing that.”

A small smirk forms on Miguel’s lips before he keeps the same tempo before he slows down. “Oh, this?” He picks up the pace, similar to before, but with heavy thrusts.

“Yes, that,” You breathe, crashing your hips against his.

“Only for you, cariño.”

The rapid thrusts are enough to sway the bed from side to side, allowing the bed to creak with every motion. Soft pants from your lips escaped before you took Miguel’s hand. “Are you doing well, cariño?” You drunkenly nod before raising your leg and feeling his hand grasp onto your knee, allowing easier access and movement.

“I’m close, Migs.” You buried your face onto a decorative pillow, muffling the moan that slowly evolved into a soft cry of pleasure.

“Together, cariño. Together.” He groans, keeping the same delicious friction. The sensation of his length against your puffy clit creates mouth-watering friction, enough for you to move in sync with his motions.

“It's so good…!” You babble over and over again, tears of ecstasy rolling down your cheeks. “We’re there, almost there.” He groans out before the two of you collapse onto each other. “Oh my god…” You whined out as Miguel’s rapid breath fans your skin. “You okay, mamás?” He gives you a forehead kiss before he slowly pulls out and only nuzzles close to your neck.

“I feel better than ever.”

This blew up…

NOTHING BUT TROUBLE

credit to: @mar_mar0u on Instagram/ @/marmar0u on X and Tumblr!

✭ 🔞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✭

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: cat and mouse chase? more like a cat and spider chase…

✭ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader and miguel have an established relationship, suggestive comments? miguel being a complete flirt, the reader being fed-up, make-out session? flirty interactions, soft smut, miguel is uncircumcised, soft dom miguel, reader is a little assertive in bed, dick-grabbing (?), and this is hella cheesy (idc I had fun)

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: >1k words

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: my doing 😛 (my indecisive ass CANNOT) this took forever to work on as my ass got too indecisive on how to write it and how to execute it

to my cat owners, tell your cat I said: psst, psst. 🐈‍⬛🩵 (specifically to the cat that lives on my campus)

𝒀𝑶𝑼’𝑹𝑬 𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑨 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳 𝑰𝑵 𝑫𝑰𝑺𝑮𝑼𝑰𝑺𝑬

º・🤍 º.▫︎º・

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who loves to mess with you whenever he has the chance. He would do ridiculous burglaries to get your attention. He is like a cat running to chase a laser point to catch it but fails every time. But when you see him, he always gets away… He would break into a pet store to free the cats, to get your attention.

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 would find ways to flirt with you, no matter how innocent it sounds or how sexual it is. And do you like it? A little too much. The pickup lines got cleverer every time you ran into him.

“You're the only woman who turns my world upset down.” He sneers, hanging upside down on a lamppost with your webbing around his ankle.

“Uh-huh…” You huffed out, not paying attention to him.

“You got my blood rushing, and I'm not talking about my head. It's going to my dick—”

“Okay, enough.”

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 is like a stray cat whenever he comes into your apartment. This man would crawl into your apartment and start with his late night “𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑬𝒁𝑽𝑶𝑼𝑺” with you.

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who makes biscuits on your blankets and pillows half-asleep, somehow ripping your blankets. Because of this, he would buy you new blankets every other week, going into different stores to not see the same workers every other week.

He becomes domesticated—

When you're not home, he washes your new blankets with your favorite laundry detergent and always leaves a rose on your bed, no matter what. The thorns are always snipped off. He doesn't want you to cut your pretty fingers :(

(As a bonus, he trims the thorns with his claws.)

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 make sure that you get home safely. Every night, between 9:30 and 10:15, he stands on the roof of a building across from your apartment, waiting to see your window light up with that familiar warm light.

A sigh of relief escapes his lungs when he sees you enter your apartment after returning from your high-demanding job as a photographer (and New York’s superhero).

Seeing you drop your bags and remove your sweater was a good indicator for him that you were ready to settle for the night. Especially when it's a weekday.

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who loves long nights with nothing but intimacy, especially after you had a long night. The sensation of being free from his suit while being bare in bed with you brings serotonin to him, enjoying the soft touches and caresses. The touches slowly evolve into gropes, to the point where he is on top of you, planting soft kisses on your cheeks and temple.

He loves holding you close while slowly stroking his length against your puffy clit, enjoying the hood of skin stroking the vein on his length. The slow rub is enough to pent you up, enough for you to grab his length gently and pull him closer to your entrance. Seeing you tug at it, he chuckles, guiding him closer to your gummy walls.

"Seems like you know what you're doing, sweetheart. Go on, it's yours."

Between the gentle pinch of your thumb and pointer, you gently pinch at his foreskin, pulling it down to see the familiar mauve tip you love to see when he's pent up. You again pull at his length with such vigor, finally inviting the bulbous tip into your soft, warm, gummy walls. "No foreplay?" He quips before he feeds your needy pussy more of his length, slowly and gently. Your fingernails rake down his back like a rake gathering leaves in a yard. When he bottoms out, a breathy moan escapes from deep in his chest cavity, a groan that pleads to be let out from such pent-up stress and frustration.

"Home sweet home," He sighs, grinding his aching tip against your g-spot. You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary commentary, wanting this man to shut up. But the unexpected thrust sent you into heaven and back to earth, grasping onto your bedsheets as if it would anchor you down from the heavenly sensation while a guttural moan escapes.

"Good, good. You're doing so good." He croons while slowly pulling out and thrusting his length back in, grasping onto the fat of your hips, allowing his claws to sink into your soft skin while keeping up the same smooth pace. The sight of your soft breasts rippling against his thrusts awakened something in him, allowing him to eagerly take your nipple in between his teeth, allowing his canines to graze against the sensitive bud every other second.

But he always lets you finish first, no matter how long it takes for you to finish. It could be an hour, and he's not going to stop until he wants you to squirt on his cock, soaking both of y'all and the fitted bedsheets. But it can sometimes get the man pussy whipped, literally.

Groans slowly turn into mewls and resort to sloppy, makeout sessions with you, wanting to block the sounds he was producing. In between kisses, he whispers in between the kisses and breaths soft praises while he gently strokes his cock, yearning to be indulged in your warmth. The usual stoic expression wipes away like a spill off a kitchen counter, changing into a lolled expression, seeing your chest rise and fall rapidly. But the moments while you finish, he accompanies you, holding you close to his chest, muffled groans against his skin.

"Good job, sweetheart. We did it."

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who loves to cuddle with you after. This man loves sleeping on your bed while you play with his hair. He groans from the back of his throat, mimicking the sound of a cat purring. The vibrations return to you, creating a funny feel against your skin.

He denies and denies that he purrs, but the vibrations from his groans don't help his case.

He yaps in his sleep, too. He mumbles, barely coherent nonsense.

But you don't mind it as he sleeps like a dog (cat) on the floor.

Hmo but

What if Miguel finds out you used to date the Harry Osborn from your world? You and Harry used to date but broke up on friendly terms but then you meet sometime where Miguel’s visiting your world for a date, and then his possessive instinct is like: She’s mine 😏

Then ✨smut✨ and ofc he has a marking kink

INTERLINKED

credit to @r3ds_art_ on Twitter and Instagram!

✭ 🔞 Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader ✭

✮ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: possessive (adj.) → demanding someone’s total attention and love. having the knowledge that you used to be with someone left a sour taste in miguel’s mouth. especially knowing that you are still in good terms with them to this day.

✭ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: biting kink? (idk what it’s called), cumplay (?), unprotective p-in-v, semi-exhibitionism (y'all get caught), possessive behavior (kinda?)

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: +1.7k words

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: mwehehehe (once again, if there are errors i apologize in advance as i felt like i read this multiple times and don't see any errors) enjoy!

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 | 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃

Harry was your first love. Something so fleeing that if you were to blink or glance at it, it disappeared instantly. It blurred into your life the way acrylic colors blended to create a clash of colors like a summer evening in July. It was all tangy and sweet, with a scalding, sweaty undertone. Beautiful yet uncomfortable to endure.

He was sweet, resembling a sweet syrup in any refresher you would get in a coffee shop. Sweet, yet messy. The sap wasn't noticeable until it became unbearable to have in between your fingers.

Enduring the sappy-like texture on the tip of your fingers, wiping the mess clean from your skin, bonding with Henry became inevitable. You didn't want to let him go, but it was for the better for each other.

But after growing out of each other, things ended with a silver lining—growing and learning within a long distance from each other.

Then, you met Miguel.

Another man from another dimension.

Meeting someone from another world was not on your bucket list, let alone in the span of goals you had for the next few years or so. But Miguel managed to tergiversate his way into your plans (and heart). He fit right into your life like a puzzle piece you didn't know was missing.

And you love it.

/

“Is your dish okay? Because if it isn't, I can send it back and—” You fade his rambles with a gentle touch on his hand. “Yes, it's perfect Migs. Thank you.” The sound of cutlery clicking on the white ceramic plates complimented the ambiance of the warm-lit dining area.

Small chatter created a cozy environment that made anyone lull to sleep. “And please, don't yell at the chef like last time.” You forcefully giggle and can almost imagine the events playing out like a storyboard.

“They didn't give you the grilled chicken fillet.” He grumbles, looking away from his dish and to the side, keeping his gaze on the maroon carpet. “Hey,” You gently cupped his cheek, disregarding your silverware. “It’s okay. Sometimes, we make mistakes on off days. It's nothing new.”

“I know,” He pouts. “I just want you to have a warm meal.”

“And I'm grateful for your well-being. Just don't yell at the chef and make them cry again. Please.” You plead, gently rubbing his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. “…okay.” He grumbles in defeat, taking your hand away from his face and gently holding your hand with a reassuring squeeze.

“I won’t.”

/

You worked on your dish, taking in pasta forkfuls and grilled chicken. Miguel keeps a close eye while eating his dish, savoring his fillet mignon. You basked in the silence, probably in your little world while with him. But a single greeting broke the mellow silence. “Hey,”

It wasn't just a simple “Hey” to get someone’s attention. Instead, it was an exasperated one. The exhale is a sign of relief—the relief of seeing someone familiar after a long period of time. A sigh that read, “Oh, it's been a while; I missed seeing you..”

Miguel’s head turned for him without his brain enabling his thought process. “Oh, hey, Harry.” You smile, showing off your little dimples to him. “What brings you here?” Harry makes his way over to the two of you, unaware of the daggers that Miguel was throwing at him. “I’m here with Miguel. My boyfriend.”

Harry turns his attention to your aggravated partner, oblivious to the aura Miguel sent. “Already moved on? That was fast.”

Not an amusing joke, even for Harry. He lets out a forced laugh, hoping to drown out the awkward air around them—it only made it more suffocating to be in that bubble. “It's been a couple of years.” You laughed, trying to ease the unsteady environment. But it was laughable beyond that point.

While exchanging words, Harry’s wavering eyes remained on you, taking in every feature about you. “You work here?” You ask as you look up at Harry. “As a server only.”

Your smile, cute dimples, everything caught Harry’s attention. It felt like he was looking at the playing field and wondering if he was about to get to second base. The conversation dragged like a snail, going slowly for Miguel.

“But it was nice seeing you.” The only best solution was stepping on the awkward waters rising as Harry nodded and sighed. “Yes, it was nice seeing you too. But let me know if you guys need anything.” With a simple nod, he walks off almost in a rushed manner.

/

“Jesus.” Miguel was now away from the warm dining area of the restaurant and now in the men’s room. He stood in the handicap stall momentarily, burying his face into his palms. The last thing he needed to happen was for you to lecture him on his behavior, especially now that Harry had dropped by unannounced.

“You’re exaggerating, you're exaggerating.” He repeats the mantra, sounding like a possessed man. If anyone were to walk in, some eye brows would have been raised. But after repeating the phrase a couple more times, he stops and rubs his eyes, much to his doctor's dismay about the habit.

“It's fine.” He thinks, reaching for the stall door to step out. But the sound of a familiar voice and a different voice enter the washroom. “Who was that woman who you greeted earlier?”

“An ex,” Harry states matter of factly.

“You miss her, don't you?” The other voice inquires as if they anticipated drama. “I've seen the way you look at her.” The other voice adds. “Yeah, but just as friends! It's been a while since we last spoke.”

A little, just a little?

“But she's with someone else.” Harry stumbles his words, attempting to redeem his words.

“And you don't seem okay with that.” A lingering silence suffocates space immediately. A sigh from Harry fills the space, shattering the awkwardness.

“I'm okay with it. I just miss her company.”

The corner of Miguel’s lip subtly twitches, a sign of irritation. He waits, waiting for the two men to finish their discussion. It wasn't until ten minutes later that they finally left. Almost as if he were following behind, Miguel steps out of the stall silently, feeling his senses get overwhelmed with his typical possessive return once again.

/

“Keep it down for me, bebe. Can you do that for me?” He bites down on your neck and nibbles on your skin. The flat of his tongue lathers against the bite crevices, soothing the dull, aching pain. “Your canines…” Your comment fell silent before his lips kissed the now red mark against your flesh before his hands worked quickly to raise the hem of your skirt. “Shhh, we don't need to get kicked out, do we?” He whispers. The family bathroom immediately got filled with scuffles and moving around of clothes. His ring and pointer finger ghost at your clothed cunt, dragging the tips of his fingers down your entrance, feeling the dampness.

“I just bit you, and you’re all riled up? Pobrecita.” He pouts to you and slowly moves the gusset of your underwear to the side gently with a tug. “Just keep it down for me, okay? Can you do that for me?” His gentle movements drew out soft whines and moans from your mouth like word vomit while his fingers traced your entrance, drawing out your glistening arousal.

"Just be quiet for me," he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, helping himself to another bite of your soft skin. He follows his fingers, delving into your fluttering wall, eagerly taking his fingers in. "Shhh..." The sound of wet, sticky gushes fills the family room bathroom, with your mess dripping down onto the floor and occasionally on the bathroom wall.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, occasionally feeling his two fingers curl slightly. You bit down on your bottom lip, humming out your pleasure to the rhythm of his finger moving in and out.

"Don't make a mess, I don't want you to ruin my watch."

The soft thrusting of his fingers moved rapidly, pulling his fingers out completely before shoving his fingers back into your needy pussy. The rapid thrusts became too much, releasing your mess along with your cum all over the floor before you. "Ay, ya te dije." He pulls his fingers out, shaking his hand dry and lifting you up on the sink counter. "I told you to not make a mess." He put a resting finger against your fluttering core, lightly pushing down to soothe the stretch.

"Spread for me a bit, nena." He whispers and grasps onto your thighs, helping you. You could already imagine the mess you left behind the counter, leaving a glistening mess on the marble. You open up for him with a meek "Okay." You feel your legs trembling against the cold marble. You watch on as Miguel hurries to take off his pants, shoving the pants down quickly and dragging you close to his aching member.

A soft moan escaped your lips, feeling his length rub against your core and clit, lightly thrusting his length in between your entrance. "Let me just prepare myself," He whispers, slowly collecting your slick against his length. You let out a whine before you let out a moan, feeling his tip occasionally slip in between your folds. He thrusted his tip in a couple more times before he continued to grind his length against your clit.

“There we go. Let’s get you comfortable.” He whispers into your ear before he slowly pushes himself in, earning a loud moan from you. He immediately covered your mouth, muffling your beautiful sounds.

“Shh, be good and keep it down.” He whispers while gently pushing his tip against your cervix, occasionally earning a soft cry in pain. You felt him slowly pull out and keep a gentle pace. “Is that better, nena?” He croons into your ear. He grinds his length into you, trying to keep your moans and mews at a limit.

“So good, cariño.” He whispers. “Come on, hold on for a while.” His fingers trace the soft red marks on your neck, putting pressure to soothe the pain.

“I want us to be in here for a moment.”

/

The two of y'all rushed out of the bathroom, getting chased out of the restaurant by two servers. “And get out of here! Never come back!” They yell out as soon as the two of you scurry out while adjusting your clothes. You exchanged breathy laughs with each other when you felt the cold air nip at your skin.

“I told you to keep it down.”

LAURO AS ALWAYS, YOU HAVE OUTDONE YOURSELF!!! EEEEE

Hey there! I've never made a request before, I hope it will not make you uncomfortable 🙏🏻 could I please request a fem!Reader pegging Miguel? Like he's always the Dom one in the relationship and reader wants to try something new and be the dominant one for one time and Miguel is a bit uncertain in the beginning but turns out he loves it so much! (also because the one who's pegging him is his beautiful, beloved sexy girlfriend 👀)

[Is It Tight?]

lab tester: Anonymous Participant 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader

summary: Miguel lets his girlfriend guide him to the edge. 

content warning: basically a PWP (but of course I hint at plot/characterization because I have no self control), 18+ so MDNI, pegging, butt play, cunnilingus, fellatio, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), butt plugs, a little bit of dom + sub dynamics (I can't resist a subby Mig, SORRY!), softness!

word count: 4.7k, halfway proofread

a/n: You don’t know how happy I was when I read this omg. I was NOT disgusted but ecstatic. This is my first time writing pegging, not my first time thinking about man (specifically Miguel’s) butt. 

“You want to do what?”

You lean on his moving chest, the room hot after your previous encounter.

“I want to…fuck you!”

“That’s not what you said.”

You pout and sit up a bit. You thought the bliss of him just fucking you within an inch of your life would be enough to easily convince him to do anything.

It usually worked but this ask was a lot more risque than your other asks. Maybe you should have asked him while he was deep in the valley instead. 

“You always make me feel so good, I just wanted to do the same for you this time.”

“You do make me feel good,” he brushed a stray hair on your cheek. “This is something else entirely.”

“I know but,” you climbed on top of him, face leaning over his. “I just wanted to try something different.”

You ran your hand down his neck to his sternum, tilting your head to the side, watching as he raised an eyebrow at your act. 

“Don’t you want to explore a new side of pleasure with me?”

Your hands made their way to his chest, rubbing across his nipples. You bite your lip just thinking about him sprawled out against the bed, mind filled with nothing but bliss. He would look so beautiful with your hands gripping around his waist. 

How would he sound?

Would he call your name with that pretty voice of his? Would he grunt and grip onto you? Would he enjoy the view of you working into him?

“You really are enjoying the thought of this, aren’t you?” Miguel gave you a deadpan look, but his neck was on fire. 

“Yeah,” you reply, shifting to press your breasts against his torso. You drag his left hand and bring it right in between your legs, watching his eyebrows raise as he feels the building slick. “It excites me.”

You keep Miguel’s heated gaze as he slides over your entrance, fingertips rubbing side to side. You spread your legs wider, enjoying the way that Miguel was eager to dip his fingers back into you. 

You let him play, tightening around his fingers as he groaned at the sound of you getting wetter and wetter. You were dripping with both the past and the present sessions and riled up from your thoughts. 

Still, you had a plan. 

“But, I know it can be a lot,” you say right as Miguel started to rub his head over your lips. You roll over and put on your slippers, “So I won’t bring it up anymore.”

You bend to grab your clothes from the floor, air cooling your naked body. You start to head towards the bathroom when Miguel sits up and grabs your wrist to pull you back into bed. 

“I-I’ll think about it,” he breathes into your skin. You bend your neck, letting him continue to kiss along your skin. 

“Really? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. It should be something you’re sure about.”

“If it’s with you, I’m willing to try it.”

Bingo.

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” Miguel wraps your legs back over his hips, mouth preoccupied. “One more round?”

You card your fingers through his hair, humming as he takes your ass in his hands, swerving your hips over his dick. 

“Miguel,” Lyla’s holographic body popped up next to the both of you. 

“Lyla, no-”

“Lyla, yes! You’re needed at HQ. An anomaly broke out in the therapy hall.”

Miguel grunted and knocked his head back onto the wall, “Ok, ok. Just give me a second.”

“There’s a lot of emotional spiders listening to a Green Goblin reenact their uncles’ death right now, so you might want to hurry.”

“I got it,” Miguel groaned. “You can go now.”

Lyla snickered before she flickered away.

“Well, babe,” you pat Miguel’s chest. “Duty calls.”

You stand up and laugh at Miguel’s reluctance to move. You pull him to the edge of the bed and he only leans on your stomach with his arms wrapped around your thighs.  

“Will I see you tonight?” he whines. 

“Only if you’re not busy at work. I’ll be here.”

“Alright,” Miguel says. He grabs you and hoists you over his shoulder. “Five minutes in the shower.”

You laugh as he brings you to the bathroom. 

What’s a little irresponsibility for a man who’s constantly saving the multiverse?

Getting him ready was a slow and steady process. 

It started with butt grabs. 

You’ve always noticed how good he looked from the back, but you also know how sensitive guys could be about that area of their bodies. 

The first time you patted his ass, he almost jumped out of his skin, cursing like a sailor. The second time he was a little bit more prepared, albeit a bit peeved. The seventh time, you were slapping it with ease. By the fifteenth time, you were grabbing handfuls to squeeze and he was just letting you have your way.

Next, you decided to introduce some butt play into y'all’s regular sex life. When you grabbed his ass to guide him while he was slamming into you during missionary, it was such an exciting sight watching him get riled up by your encouragement. 

Then one night, he had you on your back, one leg in his hands and the other spread to the side. He was diving deep into you, lips against yours as he whispered out praise. You ghosted your hands from his balls to his taint to his hole, pressure building as you tapped against it. Miguel came with a shout, nerves tight. 

You raised your eyebrows as you felt him shake above you, “Did you like that?”

“I don’t even know what just happened.”

Later, this move extended to you adding lube and sliding your finger past the rim. Miguel would have to slow down out of fear of finishing too soon, his pride too butthurt from the last time. This went from one finger to two. At three, he was whining in your ears and pushing back against your fingers and forth into your pussy. 

His words were incoherent, eyebrows pinched downward as his hips found the perfect balance of pushing and pulling.

“What was that?” you say with shortened breath, his hips drilling harder and harder.

“I feel so good,” he pants out, eyes heavy. You lean up to kiss him, happy with his progress. 

The feeling of you clenching around him and filling him up was enough to knock him out for a night.

Then you moved on to butt plugs, which you lovingly decided to buy in the color of his suit. 

“Look,” you said, holding the freshly washed plugs up. “I bought us a couple’s set!”

Miguel just stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips. He looked unamused, but you’ve been with him long enough to know it was masked excitement. 

When you made it a competition, something Miguel couldn’t refuse after all of these years, he was all ears. 

The challenge was to see who could go a full workday without removing their plug. Whoever won had full range to do whatever they wanted to the other for a day, whether that meant teasing, kissing, or fucking. 

It was fun, a bit risky, but overall right up Miguel’s aroused alley. 

What Miguel didn’t understand was how much it was going to affect him. 

You were going to be sitting down most of the day, with occasional movement for meetings or consulting with your coworkers. 

Miguel was going to be moving constantly through universes, running up walls, jumping through the air, and using his sheer strength. 

You tried to warn him of what was to come, not wanting him to be too out of the loop. 

“Nena, how bad could it be? It’s not even as big as three of your fingers,” Miguel said begrudgingly as he laid over your lap one morning. 

“Hey, if you’re confident, then good for you,” you reply. “Let’s play.”

You lubed down the blue plug and worked it in slowly, watching Miguel’s body for any discomfort. You felt his body tense up as you got closer to the base, his hands gripping the couch under him. You twist it a little, earning a hitched breath from him.  

Then you push it all the way in, red base pretty against his dark skin. You press it, watching his thighs shake the more you add pressure, then pat his butt. 

“All done!”

“That’s it?” Miguel asks, looking back to you with a perplexed face. 

“Yep. It’s in and snug as a rug,” you pull at it just to show him. 

“Ah,” he hums and then swats your hand away. “Don’t cheat. And where’s the other one? Let me put it in.”

“I put it in after my shower this morning. I wanted to focus on you in case something went wrong or you changed your mind.”

Miguel stood up in his birthday suit, arms crossed and eyes soft, “That’s sweet of you. I would have loved to watch my girl while I slid it in, though.”

You moved your lips to the side, heart pounding at the thought of Miguel watching you clench and quiver around nothing while he messed with your plug. 

“Next time.”

“Yeah? Can I see?”

You stood up and turned around, bending far enough to where your pencil skirt rides up your ass. Miguel comes closer and moves your panties to the side, cursing as he sees the blue jewel sitting above your entrance. 

“You’re going to make me late,” Miguel started to palm down your legs, squatting to get closer to your sex. “Eres mi deblilidad.”

You felt his breath on your skin, heat pooling to your core as he started to kiss through the fabric over your clothed clit. 

You grip the back of the coach, knees buckling as he moves to spread your ass further, thumb pulling at the line of your panties. He licks upwards then pushes his face further in, nose digging deep into you and his other thumb pressing against the plug. 

“Baby,” you sigh with bliss, back arching the more his tongue devoured you whole. “We need to go. I-I thought you said no cheating.”

Miguel only let out a sound of satisfaction, completely ignoring your words. You started to push back against him, hand grabbing his head to gain purchase. You could feel the moans you were trying to hold back leave your throat. Miguel only joined you, loving that he had you stuck like this. 

Your watch buzzed and the time on there caused you to panic. Your heart picked up and you involuntarily squeezed around Miguel’s tongue. He grunted and moved his head more. 

“Shit,” you gasp, not registering if it was because of Miguel or the fact that you only had so much time to freshen up and beat Nueva York traffic. You tried to pull away, to no avail, “Miguel, I need to go.”

“I’ll swing you there.”

For what felt like forever, Miguel had his face in between your thighs, hands kneading against your skin. You yelled his name as he didn’t let up, face dripping with you. Only when you finally came, Miguel was satisfied, drinking up every last drop. 

When he leaned back, you fell forward on the couch, turning to give him a look of annoyance. He only gave a toothy smile, tongue wiping over his fangs. 

“Are you going to HQ like that?” you huff, looking at the completely drenched face he was sporting. 

“I have a mask for a reason.” He patted your hip with a smirk, “Good luck today.”

You watch him stand up, eying his body, “I could say the same to you. That looks like it hurts.”

You both look down at his erection standing tall and proud. 

“I’m sure something will annoy me enough for it to go down as soon as I step foot into the building.”

The day went on smoothly for you, a glow to your skin and a reminder of how it affects your strong-willed boyfriend. 

For Miguel, it was hell. 

He was fine when he was standing up, reading over file after file, but when he had to move, he felt he might topple over. 

After helping Ben tackle an anomaly, his thighs kept quivering. Ben started a soliloquy about the hard work of a man that goes unnoticed and Miguel tried his best to lock himself back in his office. By the time he made it to the edge of the platform, the contact of the metal floor to his ass had him gripping the edge for dear life. 

He laid back, breaths coming broken and fast, wondering how you were possibly managing. 

Just when things couldn’t get worse, you sent him a message, tone happy and bright saying that you and the plug were still going strong. Miguel opened the message, fingers shaking, and it was a picture of just your ass, plump and perfect with the plug still there. 

Miguel just about came right there. 

He let the platform up, high enough to feel like no one could see or hear him, and disengaged part of his suit. 

He was red with embarrassment, but he knew you were going to want a progress check from him. He sucked it up and angled his watch in a way that got the plug lodged in him, his poor dick leaking like a fountain. 

Your reply was instant, praising him for keeping it in, calling him pretty, and making steamy promises for tonight. 

Miguel kept his day going, the red and blue plug pushing and prodding at the most inconvenient times. 

When he got home, dragging himself through the window, he wasted no time turning off his suit and taking you into your arms, dinner be damned. 

The sex was loud and frantic, Miguel entranced by the blue jewelry making an appearance every time his hips met with your ass. He was practically salivating over it. 

When you snuck your hand behind him while he was pressing you into the mattress to tug at his plug, he screamed and came within record time, venom dripping from his fangs onto the pillow. 

He stayed inside of you for a while, heart beating like a drum. 

“I guess that means I win,” you say. Miguel is fully on top of you, mind gone. “Nice game, baby.”

“Mm.”

The day was finally here. 

The day you were going to peg your big, strong boyfriend. 

You were so excited you were buzzing. 

You sat on his couch kicking your feet when you found the perfect strap-on. A dildo that was pink, sparkly 6 inches, and a bit narrow. The harness matched with the front having a dark pink lace design, the straps black, and the rings rose gold. 

Your cuddle session with Miguel was interrupted when it came, Lyla excited because you were so excited as you ran to the door to grab the box. 

You went straight to cleaning it, with Miguel leaning over the counter as you boiled the dildo with a stunned expression. 

“What have I gotten myself into?”

“You’ve gotten yourself into a world of fun!”

Now here you both were on his bed. You sat on your legs while Miguel sat with his legs spread around you. Miguel was in briefs while you chose to go with a comfy set. 

“Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

“Good.”

You lean forward and hold his face in your hands, slotting your lips against his. Like a magnet, Miguel’s hands find your waist, mouth opening with ease. 

It’s intimate and soft how Miguel pulls you closer, falling back onto the bed with a chuckle ghosting his lips at your panic. Like this, you can see that there’s some excitement hidden in his eyes, despite the way he’s been pouting all day. 

You continue to kiss him all over, a move that he usually does to cheer you up. It works as Miguel relaxes more into the bed, hands rubbing up and down your back.  

Your mouth attaches to where his jaw and neck meet, sucking the skin. Miguel’s breath hitches as you continue, leaving evidence of love down his neck. You rub yourself against him, grinding at a slow tempo. Miguel’s hands grip at your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. 

He shuddered as you slid your hands down his arms and chest, eyes locked onto yours. You inched down his body, mouth leaving wet kisses on his skin. You latch onto his nipple, biting softly and pulling causing his stomach to move. Your other hand massaged the opposite peck, kneading at the soft skin. The pressure on just him alone had him more sensitive than usual.

“Color?”

“Green.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, the air around you both warm and quiet. 

You slid your hands to his underwear, bending as you went to kiss his bulge. Miguel twitches as you run your tongue over the cotton, your hands pulling slowly at the band. His length lays half-hard as you slide the underwear down his legs. 

When you get them off, you dust your hands across his pelvis, watching as his cock moves from your hands being so close but not close enough. You run your nails over his skin with a smile on your face. 

“C-can you take your bra off?” Miguel touches your arm.

“Of course,” you cross your arms and yank it slowly from your skin. Miguel watches the way your breasts bounce out of the fabric. “Better?”

He nods his head. 

You look back down and see that he’s harder than before. You chuckle as the sight. Sometimes, he was so simple and you adored it. 

You take him in your hand, moving from the base to the tip, taking some of the precum and spreading it around his head. Miguel breathed through his teeth, still sensitive. You reached down to kiss the tip, hands still moving around his girth. Miguel grabbed onto your head, eyes foggy as you looked up at him. 

You slide your mouth open and take his length halfway through. One hand cups his balls and the other grazes the skin under his his happy trail. You can feel him tensing and relaxing, fingers in your hair scrunching together. 

You go farther, gagging when it reaches the back of your throat, constricting over the head. Miguel curses, s’s and m’s lining his teeth. You bob your head up and down, hands moving to his hips when he starts to buck up into your mouth. 

You feel his hands getting even tighter in your hair and your name is in the air. You pull off with a pop, much to Miguel’s dismay. 

“Can’t keep going or you’ll cum,” you remind him with a pout on your lips. 

Miguel just grunted and held an arm over his eyes, chest rising and falling with great speed.

You grab the lube at the other end of the bed, uncapping it and pouring a generous amount onto your hand.

“I’m gonna start off with one and we’ll build up. Color?”

Miguel turned his head to the side, eyes still closed, “Green.”

You nudge his legs open with your knee, choosing to finger him this way to watch his body language. You push one of his legs up, laughing to yourself when you can practically see the irritation in his temple.

Like this, you could see what was going on. In your mind, he was open and waiting no matter how much he pretended like he wasn’t

You take your finger and rub it around the hole, watching as his hips jump. 

“Relax, Miguel. It’s just me.”

“And you’re about to put half of a Subway sandwich in me.”

“Technically,” you slip your finger in, using his bickering as a way to get him to relax. “That sandwich is smaller than my strap.”

Miguel clenches down on you as you start to move. 

“Oh? Are you excited by that?”

“No,” Miguel says petulantly. He’s still clenching onto your finger like a vice as you go in and out. “Not entirely.”

You tilt your head and run your free hand over the hair on his torso. You keep going until you get his length in your hand, tugging lazily at the base. This gets Miguel to redirect his focusing, moaning move both hands. 

“It won’t be bad, baby, I promise. Just trust me.”

“I do.”

“I’m going to put the second finger in, ok?”

He nods, hips moving up into your hand. 

You take one finger out and press two against his rim. You inch forward slowly and press your free thumb over his taint. Miguel trembles like a leaf as you get to the base of your hand. You let go of his dick and redirect your focus to his chest. 

“Color?”

“Still green.”

You reach to kiss the middle of his chest, “You’re doing really good. We’re almost to the best part.”

After a while of stretching your fingers and twisting your hand, you move on to add the third finger. 

You push, meeting a bit of resistance, so to relax him again, you have him look at you so that you can kiss him. 

You lick at his lips, causing him to open his lips immediately. You dip into his mouth, the pace of your hands matching your tongue. Miguel hums and grabs onto your arms, mouth tilting to deepen the kiss. He’s so distracted that you tilt your wrist to switch angles, he jolts, body practically jumping from the bad.

“Do that again,” Miguel gasps against your lips. 

You slide your fingers in again, rubbing over the knot again. 

“Fuck!” Miguel cries, eyebrows pinching up. “What…¿Qué es eso?”

You smile and kiss the corner of his mouth, sliding in and out again just to see him react, “That’s your prostate, Miguel. I know you know what that is.”

Miguel’s head lolls to the side, eyes unfocused. 

“Or are you too full to think?” 

Miguel’s hands tighten around your forearms, little moans escaping as you keep a steady pace. You’ve never heard him like this before. So whiny, so wanton. 

“Amor, please.”

“Please, what?”

“I wanna cum.”

“Do you? But we just started, baby.”

You pull out your fingers and lean back, Miguel agitated and his hole clenching at nothing. 

You hurried to put the strap-on on, pulling everything in place. 

“Color?” you ask as you coat the dildo with lube. 

“Green but, I wanna,” Miguel pants. “I need to turn over.”

“You ok, baby?”

“I wanna last.”

You could feel the cool air hit your wet panties, Miguel’s complete 180 making you want him more. 

“That’s fine, go ahead. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

He turned over on wobbly limbs. If this weren’t such a serious situation, you’d call him your baby giraffe. He hit the bed like a sack of potatoes, arms giving out. 

You lean up to kiss his cheek, “If anything hurts, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

You slide his legs open and take a cup of his ass in your hand. His hole was still wet from earlier, clenching and unclenching. You pour a hefty amount of lube on there, his body jumping from the coolness. You rub the small of his back in consolation. 

You toss the bottle to the side and spread your knees. Inching forward, you press the tip against his hole, slowly breaching past the rim. Miguel’s back muscles start to constrict, his arms moving under him. 

He relaxes a bit when you reach to rub his back, a move that calms him on his toughest of days. 

You move further until you bottom out, hips pressed against the plush of his ass. 

“Color?”

“G-green.”

“I’m going to start moving,” you say lowly. 

Your hips slide back and ease forward, the sound of it already extremely wet. Miguel makes a stunted sound, vibrations trickling down his body. You do the motion again, this time with a little more force and Miguel is moaning into his arms.

His back looks beautiful, taunt muscles moving in tandem in reaction to your cock moving in and out of him. His skin is getting warmer, heat is building in his thighs and his core. His ass is bouncing with every snap of your hips. 

You grab his waist and push your weight on harder. Miguel’s voice breaks at this, filling up the bedroom easily. The bed creaks with the force of you swerving in and out, the perks of a penthouse being no close neighbors to listen to the sound of Miguel’s needy whines.

It feels like you’ve been at it for a while, and still, you haven’t found his sweet spot again. With a shift in position, you lean over his body, breasts pressing into his back, and lift your hips up. You slam back down with overwhelming force. 

Miguel yells, hands clenching the sheets below him. That was it, that was the spot. You move to jerk your pelvis again, enjoying the sounds of Miguel absolutely losing it. 

“Bebé, así, así,” Miguel moans out. 

You reach to move his head to the side to hear him better, “Feeling good, Miguel?”

His words are gibberish, barely comprehending what’s happening past the feeling of your cock dragging against his hole. 

“You feel so good to me,” you say against his ear. “You’re doing so good for me, too. Look so amazing on my strap. ‘M so wet just looking at you, baby.”

At your praise, at the mention of your pussy, Miguel is biting onto the pillow below him. His hips are stuck in a loop of grinding against the mattress and pushing back for more. 

“Oh, god,” Miguel cries, fangs starting to drip. You looked at his hands, and sure enough, his talons were gripping into the mattress. “Shit, shit, shit!”

You switched to squat above him, gaining an even deeper angle.

“And you’re so messy,” you say. You’re honestly winded but the sight of your boyfriend sprawled out like this is spurring you on. “I bet your big dick is just dripping, huh?”

Miguel nods, eyes squeezing tight as his back arches. He wanted more, needed more. 

“You want to cum, Mig?” 

“Yes! Please, please, please,” Miguel was shaking with fervor. 

You stopped moving and pulled out, which caused Miguel to just about sob. 

“Why did you stop?” he whined, looking back to you with the saddest eyes. He was shaking like a leaf, hands trembling, and saliva down his cheek.

“Because I want to see your face when you let go.”

Out of the pure adrenaline you had, you helped to flip his body and spread his legs up. Thank goodness for his flexibility from being Spider-man, otherwise, this position was never going to work. 

You lined your cock back up, peppering his pouting face with kisses as you started to move again. From this angle, you could really see his face contort and twist from everything you were giving him. His eyes would roll as you drilled into his prostate, his hips would jump if you grazed his nipples, and he would practically melt once you looked him in the eyes. 

“I want to kiss,” Miguel breathes. “Please.”

You grant his wish and lean your forehead on his while you push into him over and over. His mouth is open and his breaths irritatic. Your breasts bounce with the effort you’re putting in. You can see that he’s close, upper lip still moving up in the way it does when he’s about to empty into you. 

You lick into his mouth as you take his length in your hand and give it three strong pumps. 

Miguel shouts your name as he cums, hands and talons still gripping onto the mattress so as not to hurt you. He paints you both, body shuddering and chest pressing into yours.

He’s so, so gorgeous. 

After a while of breathing, you take your strap out and straighten his legs out, not wanting him to be uncomfortable. 

“Miguel? Baby?” You rub his chest to bring him back down to Earth. “Can you hear me?”

“What,” Miguel took a deep breath, “the fuck.”

You burst out in laughter at his reaction. 

“I’m assuming that means you had a good time?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes.”

“You feel lighter and less tense, right?’

Miguel squinted at you but nodded his head.

“Good, good,”

You went to get a warm towel to wipe him down, a session of cuddles needed after such mind-boggling discoveries for him.

“You know…”

Miguel sighed, “What?”

“We should try the dildo that ejaculates next.”

Miguel stiffens, “Now you’re just going too far.”

I hope your first time submitting a request brought you great satisfaction!

As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ₊ ✩

EEEEE—

Hey Lauro! 🩵 Jelly 🪼 , aka @lazyjellyfish300 , and T 🩷 aka @tarjapearce!

Thank you for sending the ask!

But to answer the question, here is the list!

NOTHING BUT TROUBLE (Black Cat! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader)

this has fic had been in my mind for the longest time and only saw the light of day recently! it took so long as I was indecisive on where this was heading, specifically for black cat! Migs 🐈‍⬛🩵

GROWING PAINS (Miguel O’Hara x pregnant! fem! reader)

this one was actually my most challenging one actually because i had to do a lot of research about pregnancy 🥸 but i enjoyed writing the smut for this but only see this fluff/smut a start on improving dialect.

EL VAQUERO (cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader)

on a drive to Waco, Texas, this masterpiece came to mind after listening to country music and sipping on Dr.Pepper. this is a short but sweet smut written by me when I woke up from my nap in my sisters car lmao

DON’T PUSH IT (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! reader)

my first popular smut. oh man, oh my. when I first published this, I never saw this going anywhere tbh. When first starting tumblr, I had little to no activity. but this was the fic that started it all. (gonna rewrite it one day dw )

PUTTING THE FLAME OUT (fireman! Miguel O’Hara x chubby! fem! reader)

okay, this is one of my favorite ones because I have a guilty pleasure for firemen (sue me—) and because I chatted with a bot on character ai. I had so much fun writing this and actually had the confidence to post here (lmao)

Here is the link to my masterlist if you all want to get freaky 😏 other than that, thank you to all my supporters. You all encourage me to pursue my writing and to improve 🥹

requests will open soon, but not right now. Have to get original ideas out first 😋

18+ mini–drabble | miguel o’hara

music conductor miguel o’hara x fem! reader

content warning: MATURE CONTENT IS PRESENTED, VIEWER’S DISCRETION IS ADVISED. smut (obvi), fingering, overstimulation, performer and conductor dynamic (ik this fucked up but my blog, my rules. Imma bend the rules a little. 🥸)

main masterlist.

Just thinking about music conductor! Miguel O’Hara…

His hands work on you like a bassist knows how to work on a robust and stringed instrument. He knew how the curves complimented his hands, especially the way the pads of his fingers always had tiny crevices indented on his whorls.

But instead of his fingers getting indents from horsehair of the instruments, they have wrinkled a bit from being inside of your wet, puffy walls.

His calloused fingers from adjusting the double bass’ strings rubbed against your sensitive nub before his thumb lightly pushed on the sensitive flesh. “Aguantate, si?” He placed a gentle touch before gently swiping your clit, earning a moan he desired to hear.

The sweet sounds made him feel alive. They reminded him of the stringed instrument he used to play back in the day vigorously before putting it down and holding a baton in its place. But now, having you on his lap and knuckles deep in you, it felt cathartic.

“You must keep a steady tempo. Don’t rush or drag. It creates a dissonance in the orchestra.” His fingers soon vigorously thrust into your wet core, creating a small mess on the floor. Your once steady breathing increased while withering against his body. “If you rush, you’ll stick out like a sore thumb and leave everyone behind. Everyone has to finish together.”

Your eyes dart back down to his fingers, seeing them move in and out of you effortlessly. “But if you drag,” The rapid movements seized as he did heavy, dragging thrusts into your needy pussy. “Sure, you'll catch a breath, but like I said, everyone needs to finish together, and if you slow down, you'll turn the piece into something else.”

“Verdad, mi alumna?” He pulls you back from your high with a gentle kiss to your temple.

“We should stop…” You groan, kegeling on his fingers inconsistently. The sensation drew a soft chuckle from him, keeping the slow tempo.

“Do you want to? We haven’t reached the climax of the piece.” He pushes, curving a finger against you before going at a steady pace. “…no.”

“Don’t worry. You'll finish on time, and it’ll sound beautiful.”

XINA WHEN I CATCH YOU 🥸

Gym Rat Miguel Part 11 | chapter on AO3 for easier scrolling

content warning: fluff, some hurt/comfort?? angst??? bittersweet moments???, recreational use of zaza, some nerd talk, 18+ so MDNI, p in v sex (first time 😗)

word count: 10.1k, halfway proofread (don't ask me NOTHING...)

shout out to @hyjionie and @hwasoup for one of the ideas here! 😗 you guys will know it when you see it!

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel whose mom was driving him crazy. The flight for New York was at 7 am and somehow she was up running around the house at 2 am.

“Miguel! Get up, we have to go. Now!”

“Ma, no one is even driving on the road right at this hour. There's no traffic."

"Which is why you need to get up and move. You know Gabriel takes forever. Get up!"

GymRat!Miguel who groggily put on his clothes. It was the hoodie you got for him for Christmas with the doodle of the two of you on the front. If he was going to be stuck in the airport for hours, he might as well be comfortable.

GymRat!Miguel who looked made sure that his laptop was loaded with things to do.

He could catch up on shows he knew you watched so that you could have someone to rant to about them. He could listen to that one podcast you mentioned just because you mentioned it. He could read that one manga you were raving about because he was not going to compete with fictional men, and maybe, he could steal ideas from it.

GymRat!Miguel who went to wake up Gabriel before their mom's voice pierced both of their ears again.

He opened the door to see Gabriel staring bug-eyed at his wall while he ate a bowl of cereal.

“Did you go to sleep?” Miguel asked, closing the door and walking closer.

“No,” Gabriel said. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Miguel ran his hand over his hair, curly strands bouncing back, “Promise me you’ll try to sleep on the plane?”

Gabriel took his bowl to his mouth, slurping up the last drops, “Only if the voices let me.”

“Right,” Miguel says then takes his bowl from him. “Maybe you can have a conversation with them right now.”

“And maybe I will!”

GymRat!Miguel who stares at the bags his dad has stuffed into the trunk with awe. 

“Pa, you know we’ll only be there for three days, right?”

George presses against the trunk with a little more force than needed, “You never know what could happen, mijo.”

GymRat!Miguel whose bones shake with exhaustion as he stares out the window on the way to the airport. Maybe it’s due to the lack of sun, but he’s never felt a cold summer night. 

GymRat!Miguel who sighs as his dad argues with the staff over a suitcase that Miguel knew would be too heavy. He’s not even sure what his dad has in there.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks that TSA is having a field day despite his family being one of the few coming in at this hour. 

The man in front of him was taking way too long to pat him down and he got the hint was Miguel scowled at him.

GymRat!Miguel who had about four hours to kill before the plane came, so he decided to walk around the airport with Gabriel and pretend like they were a spoiled set of twins shopping casually in France.

“What do you think about this, Mimi? A little chic, no?” Gabriel held up a Gucci scarf to his green hoodie. 

Miguel stuck his nose up, “No, Bribri, it’s so yesterday.”

“Ugh,” Gabriel put the scarf back like it was on fire, “You’re so right. Thank god you’re here or I’d be so lost!”

GymRat!Miguel who feels like he’s back at home with Gabriel as they try their best to avoid the luxury brand store staff. Every time one would get close, they would giggle and rush out of the store. 

GymRat!Miguel and Gabriel who crash back at their terminal with enough food to feed a family of five. 

“What is all of this?” Conchata asks as Miguel hands her a coffee, a frustrated look on her face.

“Ma, it’s almost the crack of dawn and we’re hungry. Big boys gotta eat,” Gabriel said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

George reached in one of the bags and grabbed a sausage sandwich, “He’s right, Conchata. We can’t survive on two bites.”

Conchata eyed her three boys with her arms crossed, “All of it better be finished and I don’t want to hear one complaint about your stomachs.”

Miguel just snickered. It’s not like she bought the food anyway.

GymRat!Miguel who is watching an older couple meditate at his terminal as the sun begins to rise. 

“Yo,” Gabriel says. “That looks relaxing as hell. I’ma join them.”

GymRat!Miguel who is wheezing as he watches Gabriel plant himself between them to spread his arms and breathe at deep paces.

GymRat!Miguel who is thankful that his parents bought better-than-Economy seats, but that still didn’t stop any of the O’Hara boys from feeling like they were in one of those miniature museums. 

Both his dad and Gabriel were already tall, but Miguel was more than tall with a heavier body to match. If another compartment almost smacks him in the face, he might lose it.

GymRat!Miguel who takes off his headphones when Gabriel grips his arm.

“The voices,” Gabriel whispers. “The voices are here.”

“Are we doing this the whole flight?”

“Miguel, what if they tell me to do something drastic?”

Miguel looked to the window next to Gabriel and then up to the ceiling, “Three hours.”

“Three hours in which my brain could be infiltrated!”

“I’m closing my eyes, Gabri.”

“But-”

“Closing!”

GymRat!Miguel who used the flight to catch up on sleep and listen to the playlist you made for him. You gifted it to him earlier this month and said it would grow more and more. Miguel loved it because it showed that you were thinking about him, daydreaming about him. It also meant that he could connect to you more. 

No sound of crying babies, no smell of the artificial air packed tight, no light from overhead, just you and him in his mind, dancing on clouds. 

His heart felt like it followed the tempo of each song that played, the words and melodies taking over his mind. 

GymRat!Miguel whose mind wanders by the time the second half of the playlist starts. It was sensual and intimate in a way that passed the sticky sweetness of the first half. 

He was thinking about the nights when it was just the two of you and a bed. He could feel your body tangled with his in the sheets and your eyes piercing his skin. He could see you in front of him as the music played, the words glowing on your skin and the harmonies bounding you to him.

GymRat!Miguel who is yanked out of his fantasy of him pressing you up against a wall when his body jerks from the turbulence. 

He opens his eyes to see Gabriel knocked out and not a clue in the world.

GymRat!Miguel who is always reminded how idiotic people can be at the airport. 

Standing in the aisles is not going to make the people in the front move any faster.

GymRat!Miguel who could finally stretch his legs once he exits the terminal.

“If I get on another plane where a kids stares back at me the entire flight again, I’m going to spin my head like an owl,” Gabriel mumbles as he cracks his neck.

GymRat!Miguel who has a time laughing at his dad slowly losing his mind. 

First, he complained because his fabric luggage was lopsided and twisted from its buckled components, extra bag barely hanging on. 

Second, a wheel on his luggage was a few more spins from giving out. Every time the bag would skirt across the shining floors of the airport, George would grunt in frustration and yank it back. Gabriel almost pissed himself leaning onto Miguel from laughing. 

Third, the ride to the hotel almost gave him a heart attack. The cabs in New York were fast and no-nonsense when it came to getting people to their destinations. The cab drivers were also known to bob and weave into lanes like it was nothing. At every switch of a lane, George was mumbling prayers into the air. 

Conchata kept a hand on his shoulder as best as she could from the middle back seat, but George’s grip on the handle was turning white as he tried his best not to yell into the driver’s ear. Gabriel was filming him from the left side, wheezing like it was the funniest thing in the world. 

GymRat!Miguel who dropped his stuff off, took a nap, and used the rest of the afternoon to walk around Times Square. 

“You refused to go to a Broadway show with me but mark my words, you’re going to one with me before the year is over,” Gabriel pointed his finger at Miguel. 

“Unfortunately.”

GymRat!Miguel who watches as Gabriel dance battles with the random people in costumes in Times Square when they try to heckle him. 

At first, Miguel was worried for him trying to navigate such a bustling place, but there are moments like this that show him that his little brother has always been quick on his feet. His little brother was light years ahead of him in so many aspects and he couldn’t be prouder. 

GymRat!Miguel who probably filled his phone with more pictures and videos of Gabriel experiencing New York for the first time than were necessary. 

He couldn’t help it. His baby brother was soaring.

GymRat!Miguel who sends you places that he wants to visit with you. 

Envisioning you in his hoodie or with a fluffy, long scarf and walking down the sidewalk hand-in-hand with you had him excited to see you again. You would shine so brightly under the Christmas lights.

GymRat!Miguel who didn’t get back to the hotel with Gabriel until the evening. His parents both snoring in the room across the hall. 

GymRat!Miguel who still manages to get up early enough to hit the hotel gym before he and his family go tackle Gabriel’s dorm room. 

GymRat!Miguel who feels like the only other lady in the gym is trying her best to follow everything that he does. 

So much room in the tiny cube of a gym that they’re in and she moves to wherever he is after five minutes. 

GymRat!Miguel who is annoyed when she taps him in the middle of his set. He removes one ear of his headphones and tries his best to stop the disgusted look on his face from forming. 

“Hey! Sorry, I was wondering if I could use this machine! I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“After I finish this set,” she jerks back at that. “I’m using it right now.”

“Well, I just thought that-”

“Ma’am.”

“I’m 22! Don’t call me ma’am.”

Miguel’s eyebrows went up. He could hear Gabriel in the center of his mind calling her a “hard 22,” so he just put his headphones back on and continued to work through his set. 

GymRat!Miguel who thinks that interaction ruined the girl’s mood but he really didn’t have the energy to be concerned. 

He had to freshen up for breakfast. 

GymRat!Miguel who feels absolutely cramped when he steps into Gabriel’s dorm. 

“It’s not bad!” Conchata rubs Gabriel’s back as he looks around with his mouth in the shape of a line. “Once we clean it and set up your things, it’ll be just like home.”

Gabriel puts his hands on his hips, “Home doesn’t look like cell block 1.”

“At least the window overlooks the city,” Miguel says. 

The door behind them opens with George poking head inside. 

“Mijo, we need to set some ground rules. Your suitemates have no idea how to organize.”

“Did you go in their rooms?” Gabriel asked in disbelief. 

“It’s not my fault they left the door open!” George puts his hands up. 

GymRat!Miguel who works harder than he did for his own dorm. Every piece of clothing was in its rightful place, every surface was sparkling clean, the bed was made with minimal pillows and a giant RJ churro plushie, and there was an odd-shaped humidifier plugged up on his desk. 

“I’m putting your cleaning supplies in the corner of your closet, so this room should stay clean,” Miguel grumbled as he stuck a mini vacuum against the wall.

“Whatever, mom,” Gabriel replied.

“Gabriel,” Conchata had a hand on her hip and a finger pointed at her son. “Don’t whatever him. He’s right. There’s no excuse for this room to be a mess.”

Miguel and Gabriel stood in shock at Conchata’s quick defense.

“Are we in the twilight zone?” Gabriel asks out the side of his mouth.

“Maybe it’s the air pressure,” Miguel whispers back.

GymRat!Miguel who equates Conchata’s growing softness to the fact that not one, but two of her boys will be leaving the nest. 

The sentiment is sweet, but by the fourth time she just lets him and Gabriel roam the busy streets, he’s internally freaking out. 

It was far different from the woman who pinched their ears when they tried to sneak sweets into the shopping carts or the woman who had her shoe locked and loaded for when one of them did anything to annoy her. 

GymRat!Miguel who stays up late to talk all night with Gabriel about anything and everything.

“Which one of these do you think is better?”

Gabriel reaced into his backpack to unfold two flags, one with Jungkook over the Mexican flag and a Weenie Hut Jr. sign.

“Well, I definitely feel like there’s a clear answer.”

“You’re so right,” Gabriel says and folds up the Spongebob sign. “It’s better to represent.”

Miguel only sighed, “If that’s what you insist, Gabri.”

GymRat!Miguel who hugs Gabriel tight as their parents pack the cab back to the airport.

They’ve dropped Gabriel back at his school and said their goodbyes all morning. Miguel feels like he’s fading away. He bites his lips in order not to cry, but it’s hard when Gabriel's hands grip his hoodie like a lifeline. 

“Knock em’ dead, baby bro.”

Gabriel leans back with a wet laugh, “They won’t see me coming.”

GymRat!Miguel who waves out the window as the cab drives off. Gabriel waves back with both hands and a smile on his face. 

Miguel keeps looking back and Gabriel is still standing there. He wants to tell the cab to turn around.

After the fourth look, Gabriel is no longer looking at the direction the cab went but to a girl who also seems to have said goodbye to her family. He’s talking animatedly, arms moving as fast as the words fly out of his mouth. 

Miguel turns back around and pulls the strings on his hoodie hard, eyes welling up with tears. 

“Ay, pobrecito,” Conchata pulls Miguel into her arms, kissing the top of his covered head. “I know, it’s ok.”

Miguel’s lungs take in chopped breaths, hands never moving from the strings. He doesn’t know how to stop the tears from falling. 

“George, you too?”

To Conchata’s other side, George was looking out of the window, sniffling with a fist covering his mouth. 

“It feels like just yesterday I was teaching how to kick a ball!”

Miguel blew out some air, “That probably was yesterday. He sucks at soccer. And football. And kickball.”

“How did he ever make the basketball team?” George says, voice riddled with sorrow. 

“His height, pa,” Miguel’s throat was tight again. “I didn’t call him beanstalk for nothing.”

The two of them lean onto Conchata, snot and tears crowding their faces. 

“Lose one baby and I gain two more,” Conchata sighed as she rubbed their backs, barely space in the little cab. 

GymRat!Miguel whose eyes remained puffy and swollen the whole trip back home. 

GymRat!Miguel who had to go back to school as soon as possible. 

He loved his parents, but being in the house without Gabriel took a lot more patience than he was willing to give. 

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see you coming while he's looking for you around the Student Center. 

The campus feels a little different since he’s become more familiar with it. Now he’s got shortcuts and pathways down. He knows more places to hide away in and he carries more tips to survive than he did his freshman year. 

A tap on his shoulder has him turning around. He spins, looks down, and his mood immediately lifts. 

You’re standing there with a pretty smile on your face in the midst of the bustling crowd. Miguel bends down to pick you up, arms wrapping around your thighs, mindful of your skirt. You laugh his name out as you cling to his shoulders. 

He kisses your lips, mouth warm and cozy like the sun shining through the window in a cool room. 

“I missed you so much,” he breathes after two heavy pecks. He moved to the corner of your mouth to your nose to your cheek. “‘M happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you, too,” you run a hand through his hair and cradle his face, looking into his eyes. “Are you alright?”

Miguel puts you down, knowing your limit for periodic PDA was nearing its end. 

“Better with you here.”

“Really?” You lean into his chin on his chest with hearts in your eyes. 

“Absolutely,” he plants his arms around you. “Been replaying your playlist for me. You want me to be your good boy?”

Your eyes get wider and you bury your face in his chest. 

“Why are you hiding? You should have known I was going to ask about it,” Miguel chuckles as you groan. 

“You’re using it against me.”

“No, I just want to confirm!”

The irritated face you gave him was too much, he had to tease you more. 

“Just say the word.”

“Hmph,” you lean back as Miguel grins. “Well, be a good boy and help me find our friends.”

Miguel let you pull him, smile loopy, “Whatever you say, baby.”

GymRat!Miguel who is glad to see his friends again. Peter, MJ, Jess, and Ben are sitting at one of the high tables and they all greet you both with smiles. 

“The lovebirds are here!” Peter reached to shake Miguel by the shoulders. “Good to see you both alive.”

“Never better,” Miguel replied, holding the seat out for you to sit on. 

“Look at him,” Jess snickered. “His eyes are practically shaped like hearts.”

“It’s ok to look away from her Miguel,” Ben said. “She’s not going to disappear.”

“C’mon guys, leave them alone. Haven’t you ever had someone you’re head over heels about?” MJ asks.

“No,” Ben and Jess say in a monotone voice.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone someday,” Peter quips as he wraps his arm around MJ. “Someone to stare at like they’re the only ones at the table.”

Everyone looked at Miguel talking to you as you tapped on your phone. He would whisper something in your ear and you would push him back with a shy laugh. His hands rubbed on your shoulders and your thighs. 

“Movie night might be insufferable,” Ben sighed.

Jess leaned back, “A girlfriend or boyfriend would suffice. I’m not picky!”

“I am,” Ben says with raised eyebrows. “I need someone to acknowledge my beauty.”

GymRat!Miguel who does in fact become insufferable during movie night. 

Flashing bright colors are painting the white dorm walls, lighting up the room, and the two of you are cuddled together on his bed. It’s way too cramped and Miguel could barely fit on the thing by himself, but somehow, he has you laid in his arms, a blanket covering you both. 

He’s not even sure what movie is playing on the projector because his mind is too focused on you. His hands keep wandering your body under the thick blue fluff. He’s watching you body jump and listening to your breath hitch as he kneads your thighs, your sides, your stomach, your chest. 

He really did miss you and he wanted to take this time to become acquainted with your body again.

But you would kill him if he let his thoughts take over and sink his hands under your clothes. 

So he settled with touching you and kissing your neck occasionally, your mind to preoccupied with the movie before you. 

GymRat!Miguel who insists on a snack run and makes you tag along. 

Does he want snacks? Not really.

Does he use it as an opportunity to make out with you on the outside of his car? Absolutely.

“Mig, mm-” you melt into him as he pries your mouth open. “I thought you said you wanted milkshakes.”

Miguel cages you against the car, pans down to your chest, then back up to your eyes, “My milkshake is right here, though.”

You scoff, hit his chest, and push his arms to walk around to the passenger seat.

GymRat!Miguel who has milkshakes ready for everyone on their way out to their own dorms. He spent way too long playing with you in the privacy of his car.

GymRat!Miguel who by his second day of classes thinks he has the ideal fall semester schedule planned.

He’s still blocking things out on his calendar, but his classes are a bit more spread out this time, which means more time to be with you. 

With your stacked studio classes, he was going to take every opportunity he could to see you. 

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to take up a basic game programming class as an elective. What better way to nerd out than to get insight on how his favorite games worked?

Learning C++ and Python, breaking down the technical side of things, making his own small games through engines; Miguel was beyond excited, to say the least.

He walked into the empty lab, scoping the classroom out for the best seat. The perks of being early. 

GymRat!Miguel who is scrolling through his watch later list while he waits for class to start. Maybe he could finally watch the Let’s Plays he’s been piling up. Maybe character builds would be better. 

“Hare-Hare, is that you?”

Miguel stopped, that nickname something he hadn’t heard in forever. 

He turned to his right with a smile on his face, “Xina?”

“It is you!” 

Miguel stood to hug her, his body rocking from the weight of her, almost knocking him over. 

“It’s been so long,” she breathes out. Her hands slide down his arms. “Have you gotten even bigger?”

Miguel laughed, “Probably.”

Xina’s eyes flitted over his body and back to his face. 

Miguel sat back down, “You look different, too. Is that a tattoo?”

“Y-yeah! You like it?”

It was some computer code in a spiral shape on her arm. It was really different for her. A far cry from the conservative, shy girl who left the South. 

In fact, the outfit she had on was something she would never wear. It looked like something that Lyla or Tempest would throw on. No collared dresses or long socks over stockings, just low-cut skirts and flowy-sleeved tops. 

“It’s pretty cool. Do your parents know you have it?” 

She shuffled the sleeves of her shirt back down, “They weren’t too fond of it, but what can they do now.”

Miguel smiled softly, “Lyla told me you were coming down here. I guess I just didn’t believe it until I saw you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been pretty good. Just trying to readjust. It’s a lot different here.”

Miguel raised his eyebrow, “From China or from up north?”

“Um, from up north. It’s a lot slower.”

“Really?” Miguel watched as she picked at the mountain of bracelets on her arm. “Hopefully not too much slower. I want you to enjoy your time here.”

More people started to fill up the lab, dropping their backpacks and pecking on their phones. 

Miguel rolled his chair closer to Xina, “What happened up there? Is everything ok?”

Her eyes shifted nervously, voice tight, “Lyla didn’t already tell you?”

“She can say a lot of things, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

Her shoulders dropped and whatever thoughts that were clouding her mind disappeared. 

“I’ll-” the professor heads to the front of the class. “I’ll tell you one day.”

Miguel nods, dropping the subject. 

GymRat!Miguel who is really excited about the future of the class after the first initial day. 

The professor seemed to have a lot of knowledge involving the industry, and even if Miguel couldn’t see himself really tapping into the industry, he enjoyed the banter. 

“Class seems like it’s going to be fun,” Xina says as she walks next to him, bag patting against her hip. 

“That’s a sentence I’ve heard no one ever say.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Xina pushes his shoulder and Miguel fakes being knocked over. “This is coming from the man who got excited about encyclopedias being available for checkout.”

“There was good stuff in there! Not my fault that others didn’t catch on.”

GymRat!Miguel who chats with Xina like old times. 

She looked different, but the core of her was still there. Still the sweet, reserved girl that he remembers. 

“Ah,” Xina looks down at her phone. “I gotta go. Me and my roommates are having a house meeting.”

“You got a quad suite?”

“An apartment! You should come over sometime. We’re going to have a little housewarming party soon.”

“Cool, I’ll be there. See you Thursday?”

Xina grinned wide, hands folding together in front of her, “See you Thursday.”

GymRat!Miguel whose time with you during the day was limited to lunch time. Your studios were stacked along with some general ed classes and he hated it. 

“Miguel, stop pouting, I’m here now!”

“That’s until you have to go mix your paints with others and cut floorboards.”

“I’m not mixing paint with others,” you reach to wipe some salad dressing off of his lip. “I’m mixing paints with other paints. And mineral spirits. And turpenoid.”

Miguel slumped down his chair, petulant. 

“Why can’t I just sit next to you and encourage you?” Call you pretty, stare at you, hold you. 

“Because it’s a college course just like any other class. I just can’t just walk into your labs unannounced.”

“If it were one of my lectures, you probably could.”

You left out a soft breath through your nose, “True. Too bad my classes are three hours long, babe.”

Miguel groaned, “I should have switched my bio class to yours.”

“So you and I both could be distracted all day? Not a chance.”

“No,” Miguel held out the vowel. “I wouldn’t get distracted, I swear! We’d sit at the front of the class to ensure it.”

“And somehow, you’d still find a way to distract yourself.”

Miguel puffed and folded his arms.

“How so?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you shake your cup, seeing if you had any drink left. “Writing me messages on your notes app, spamming emojis, sending naughty pictures in the middle of class.”

“That was one time.”

“One time that my professor almost saw the hairs leading to your-”

“So what you're saying is, you don’t want my chest in your phone?”

“No! I never said that!” 

Miguel smirks and you fall back into your chair with your heart pounding. 

“You’re so mean, I’m going to class early.”

“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Miguel held your hand to stop you from leaving the table, pulling you to his side. 

“Let go, I’m going to class.”

“Let me walk you there at least?”

Miguel wrapped his arms around you and moved his head wherever your gaze went. 

“Fine, hurry up.”

GymRat!Miguel who finished his lunch in two bites and reached for your portfolio. 

GymRat!Miguel whose heart swelled as you swung his hand on the walk to class. 

“I think we can still make more time for just us. There’s the weekends, your birthday, fall break, winter break, our anniversary,” you sang as you looked up at him. 

“You excited?”

“To spend time with you? Always.”

Miguel felt his cheeks warm at the simple statement. 

“Are you?”

“If I’m not excited to be with you, you’ll know I’m being kidnapped.”

“Stop,” you giggle. 

“It’s true!”

GymRat!Miguel who lingers in the art building while you wait for class to start. 

“Is there anything in particular that you wanted to do for our anniversary?”

You fan your eyes up, “Hm. I’m not picky. As long as it’s close to school. We can save the bigger trips for the future or holidays.”

So no sporadic trips across the country. He can check that off his list. 

“Your face is telling me that you were thinking of something else.”

“No…”

GymRat!Miguel who after two weeks of class could definitely say that his elective was taking more brain power than his science classes combined. 

It was fun, but god, he didn’t understand the point of his professor insisting that they learn C#. 

“This is so stupid,” Miguel grumbled after the third failed attempt to get his program to run. “I think I’m in hell.”

“With me here? No way,” Xina snickered beside him. 

“Yeah, you’re right. Still doesn’t change the fact that this is a program that is completely useless to not only me but the rest of this course.”

“It literally can’t be that bad”

“Look!”

Miguel showed Xina his code and the lack of progress that it seems like he made. 

“That’s ‘cause your lines are wrong, silly.”Yo

She leaned over him, tapping at his computer. Miguel noticed that her tattoo was on display today despite the cool chills coming in as fall approached. 

“There. That should fix it.”

Miguel ran his program again and was filled with relief when it actually did what it was supposed to do. 

“You’re a lifesaver.” 

“Anytime,” she beamed and fanned absentmindedly. “I’m always here to help. I definitely need your guidance for quantum physics.”

“What do you need that class for?”

“My advisor suggested it, but I’m starting to regret it and I can’t afford to drop it.”

“Tell you what, you help me with coding and I’ll help you with physics. Fair trade?”

“Plenty equal to me.”

GymRat!Miguel who smells Xina’s perfume as she helps him for the third time that class. 

It’s sweet and earthy. It reminds him of the time you fed him ice cream on a campus bench not too long ago. 

“What is that? It smells good.”

“Really?” Xina looks over to Miguel with a smile. She leans back and twirls the black strands of her hair. “You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Thank you.”

GymRat!Miguel who gets invited to Xina’s apartment-warming party. 

“It’s pretty small, and I’ve only made a few friends here so far, but I would love for you to come.”

“For sure, for sure. Should I bring something?”

“No, just you and your body will suffice.”

GymRat!Miguel who laughs with Xina as they exit the class. 

“I’m just saying that if you have time to make merch for your games immediately after the first patch of it does numbers, then you have enough time to improve it and make other parts faster.”

“Game developers have families to feed, ya know?” Xina states. “They can’t just sit at a screen all day, they need quick money like the rest of us.”

“So you sell plushies instead? Whatever happened to ‘hi, hello’ or ‘this is how progress is going this month.’”

“Miguel!”

He turned to where he heard his name, that voice like music to his ears. 

“Bebé!”

GymRat!Miguel who runs to you and spins you around like he hasn’t seen you in years. You squeal into his neck, excited because he’s so excited. 

He puts you down and stands in shock, checking his watch, “I thought you had studio right now?”

“Critique ended super early, so I wanted to surprise you!”

“So the rest of your day is free?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Miguel would punch the air with glee if he wasn’t in public. 

GymRat!Miguel who turns when you peek your head past him to see Xina standing with a small smile on her face. 

He slots his hand into yours and pulls you over. 

“Xina, meet my girlfriend. Bebé, meet Xina.”

You reach your right hand out, introducing yourself. Xina takes your hand with a grip like a blood pressure machine and a quick introduction. 

When you take your hand back, your eyes do a double take between the two, Miguel oblivious to what just took place. 

You clear your throat, “Do you guys take the same class?”

“Yep, we-”

“We go way, way back,” Xina grins. “Like trading silly bandz and Pokemon cards back.”

“Oh shit, really? So you saw Miguel in his baby days. What was he like?”

“Please don’t say anything embarrassing,” Miguel groans out. 

“Yeah, tell me something good. Something juicy.”

“Hm,” Xina tapped her chin. 

Miguel shook his head behind you, hands clasping together in a pleading motion. 

“Miguel had a crush on me.”

That’s not what he expected Xina to say and from the raised eyebrows on your face, neither did you.

“That’s,” you rock on your feet and adjust your backpack, “definitely something.”

“Yeah! He was so cute running around handing me flowers with the roots still attached. I was too busy trying to be the best ballerina around, though. Right, Hare-Hare?”

“Right,” Miguel looked to the door. “Uh, we’ll see you around Xina.”

“Yeah, see you soon,” her fingers twinkled, chains on her nails dangling. 

GymRat!Miguel who kept waiting for you to say something as you both walked to his car. 

He was excited to eat dinner with you for once, but your silence was scaring him. 

“What’s wrong?” He breaks, sick of his aimless thoughts. 

“I don’t know, Hare-Hare, you tell me.”

“Amor, don’t be upset. It was such a long time ago.”

“That’s fine, I don’t care about that. Why would she bring it up in the first place? I don’t even know her like that.”

“I think she was just nervous, she’s not usually like that.”

“Compared to…?”

“Compared to the kind person I know her to be. Look,” Miguel reached for your hand, voice steady. “I’m sure she’ll open up to you as I’m sure you will to her, ok?”

You blew out a deep breath, “Ok.”

“Trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“Good,” he pecked your lips. “Now let’s go get pizza. I’m starving.”

GymRat!Miguel who still brought a gift to the apartment warming. It felt rude to not show up with something. 

You had recommended a candle, so Miguel went and got something that smelled similar to Xina’s perfume plus a candle warmer in the shape of a flower. 

He knocked on the door, a gift bag in his hand.

After a few seconds, it swung open with a guy who he didn’t have to bend down to look at. 

“Woah,” he said. “You’re huge.”

“Uh, thanks? Is Xina here?”

The guy was brushed to the side to reveal a frazzled Xina. 

“H-hey, Miguel! You came!” Xina clung to him, fingers clammy and breath burning through his shirt. 

“Yeah, of course. Was this the wrong day?”

“No! No, no. You’re right, come on in.”

GymRat!Miguel who felt that the apartment was really nice and Xina’s roommates were a rambunctious bunch. 

Although, he expected the event to be a bit more relaxed. There were people crowded together in the living room, some screaming at a game on the TV, some making their mark on the couch, others dancing out on the balcony. 

Miguel was anxious to say the least. 

GymRat!Miguel who was pulled into Xina’s bedroom, the stench of that sticky, sweet perfume filling his nostrils. 

“Sorry about that, I didn’t know it would get this wild.”

“It’s fine,” Miguel shuffles the bag into her hands. “I just wanted to give you this, then I’ll be on my way.”

“Aw, so soon?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some stuff to catch up on.”

He wanted to get out of here. 

His eyes panned around her room, the style of it matching more to her past self. White lace, lilac and soft pink bows, tiny bunny and hamster families sitting on a shelf above her desk. 

A poster from a franchise that she swore she hated but he loved. Funny. 

Xina dug into the bag pulling out the candle warmer, “Miguel, this is so cu-ute! It’ll be perfect on my desk.”

“I thought you would like it.”

“You do know me very well,” she pulls out the candle and holds it to her nose for cartoonishly amount of time. “This smells fucking amazing. It’s like, like the inside of an ice cream bucket. But in a jar.”

“Xina,” Miguel sits the candle down before she moves the wicks up her nose. “Are you high?”

“Only a little…un poco,” she holds her fingers in a pinch. 

He pushed her hand away from his face. 

“They’re not making you take anything, right?” He pointed back to the door. 

“No, I wanted it to. It’s nice. You should try it sometime. Relax a little.”

Miguel watched Xina’s eyes for a moment, searching for anything, something about how she really felt. For the moment, they were only cloudy and unphased. Miguel supposes that he should be like that too. 

“Maybe another time. I think I’m gonna go.”

“If you must,” she pouted and hung on to his shoulder until they reached the door. 

GymRat!Miguel who finally breathed easier once he was in his car. 

He wondered what to get a person to help them come down from a high easier. 

GymRat!Miguel who didn’t care what Lyla had to say, the arcade was a great idea for the 1st Anniversary date. 

He had it all planned out: pick you up at your dorm door, drive you out, about an hour to the closest city, spend the rest of the night exploring the city, come back to the hotel, breakfast in bed, an afternoon at an art class because you wanted to see him paint, an evening at the arcade, and a night to complete out his Mission B: Virgin No More. 

It was perfect. Immaculate. Sublime. 

GymRat!Miguel who took the term passenger princess more seriously than he needed to. 

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?”

“Nope. Just sit there and look pretty.”

“I might fall asleep.”

“You’ll still be pretty either way.”

GymRat!Miguel who has the most fun going to random stores with you. Sure, there were some boutiques where the owners looked at you both like extra heads were sticking out of your necks, but there were also stores that were cozy and warm. 

You both stayed in the nooks and crannies of stores looking at trinkets, jewelry, books, anything. 

“Miguel, look!” you hold up the tiniest pair of baby shoes he’s ever seen. “How precious is that?”

“Put those down, I don’t need any new ideas.”

“You had old ones?”

GymRat!Miguel who buys a giant puzzle for you both to complete together. It’s a watercolor painting of the night sky and the bright day blending together. 

It was the two of you together in one piece, he had to get it. 

GymRat!Miguel who is giddy that you bought a set of matching silk pajamas for you both to wear. 

He knew you were definitely going to get hot in them, but what are hotels for if not turning up the A/C and cuddling together under the thick, starchy comforters? 

GymRat!Miguel who keeps staring at you through the mirror as you brush your teeth. There’s a fluffy headband keeping your hair out of your face, and you’re only wearing the top of your pajama set. 

He’s no better, only rocking the pants. 

“What?” you say with foamy toothpaste flooding your mouth. 

“Nothing. You’re cute.”

You spit out the toothpaste, “You’re cute!”

GymRat!Miguel who holds you close as you take a bunch of mirror selfies before you both head to sleep. 

GynRat!Miguel who knew this day was starting off right when you came out of the bathroom with your stomach showing. The shirt is like a blessing, mesmerizing in multiple areas, hugging your skin tight but loose enough for him to stick his hands under it. 

“Amor, I don’t know if you know this, but,” Miguel pulls you in between his legs. “We’re supposed to actually make it out of the hotel room today.”

“And we will,” your eyes sparkled. “So until we get back, be good.”

Miguel groaned and peppered searing kisses across your skin, hands hot on the pocket of skin he could see, squeezing and gripping. 

“Do I get a reward?”

You lean and whisper in his ear, breath tickling his skin, “A really, really hot one.”

Miguel's eyes are opened wider when you stand back, neck burning. 

“You’re killing me.”

GymRat!Miguel who really sucks at painting. 

“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”

“Well, to start off, your brush isn’t even clean.”

You guide his hand to his water cup with a giggle, “None of your colors are going to show up if you keep dipping them willy-nilly.”

“Ok, but how come your hearts are so much better than mine? We both followed the teacher.”

Your eyes looked from your uniformed artwork, colors tangling together intricately and shapes flowy to Miguel’s canvas that had dripping paint, a bad mix of oversaturation, and wobbly shapes. 

“You know, I’m not completely sure how you managed that, babe. What matters is that you did it with love,” you say noticing both of your initials in one of the best hearts on the page. 

“Maybe you’ll be better at pottery? Mosaic?”

“I think you just enjoy laughing at my expense.”

GymRat!Miguel who rolled the sleeves of his sweater up when it was time to play arcade games. 

He had to look good, show off, and earn prizes. 

You watched with heavy eyes as he geared up to play the boxing game. 

He made the boyfriend outfit look even more yummy, with his button-down peeking from under his blue sweater to match your outfit and his big jeans hugging his waist. 

With a heavy swing, the machine seemed like it lifted off the ground with the force he gave it. His face was so serious as he waited for the score and you were inching closer to insanity. 

The machine faltered, red dashes dancing across the screen. 

“Did you break it?”

“Uh. I hope not.”

After what felt like a moment in which you both probably should have run away or called a worker, the machine blinks back to life. 

“No way.”

A max score of 999 stared back at you both and the card machine lit up with rainbow colors. 

You held his hand in yours, looking at his knuckles for any bruises or blemishes. When you stared up at Miguel incredulously, he had a goofy smile on his face. 

GymRat!Miguel who may have been more competitive than he needed to be. 

You yelled as his score kept inching away from yours on the basketball arcade game. 

“You’re, like, as tall as the machine! You’re cheating!”

“It has nothing to do with height, chiquita.”

You groan out a sound of frustration as you miss your shots, messing up your streak. 

The timer goes out, Miguel winning by a landslide. 

You push your head back as Miguel celebrates. 

GymRat!Miguel who keeps this song-and-dance up for the rest of the night. Sometimes you would win, sometimes he would win. 

His final strike was when you both were in one of those FPS games that required you both to be crammed inside of a dark box. 

“Miguel, stop taking my fucking shots!”

“Oo, she’s getting feisty with me now.”

You thought quickly and leaned over. With an eye on the screen and the intention to rile him up, you moan his name right in his ear, breath needy and warm. You lick at his jaw to seal the deal and turn back. 

Like paper, Miguel folds, and his aim becomes absolutely terrible. 

“W-why would you do that?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to feel that bad as “Player 1: Bunny WINS” and “Player 2: Bear LOSES” jumped across the screen. 

You kiss Miguel on his cheek as he readjusts his pants with a frown on his face. 

GymRat!Miguel who could hear his heartbeat in his ears on the elevator ride back up to the room. 

You were holding onto the giant plushie he gave blood, sweat, and tears to earn, saying that it reminded you of him. 

Miguel, on the other hand, was digging his nails into his palm and opening the collar of his sweater sporadically. 

“You alright?” you say, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I might pass out.”

“Miguel,” you hold him close as you both walk to the door. “You gotta calm down.”

“I am! I’m just nervous.”

“You’re shaking.”

Miguel’s hands tremored as he ran the key card over the censor.

GymRat!Miguel who let you hold his hands as you kissed over his wrists. 

He was so dear to you. His presence, like a beautiful spark.

“You’re so sweet.” A kiss to his palm. “The sweetest there is. I adore you.”

Miguel took a shuddered breath as he watched you, heart rushing to his ears.

GymRat!Miguel who is more calm when you both start to remove your clothes. It wasn’t steamy and desperate like he imagined. It was slow, intimate, and quiet. 

It was like seeing you all over again for the first time when he helped you take off your shirt. It was like stepping into new territory when you held his jeans so he could step out of them. You both took turns taking off an article of clothing, savoring the moment. 

Miguel fumbled a bit when he was met with you the clasps of your bra, fingers knocking against each other.

When the time comes, after what was an hour or so of touching, feeling, and existing within each other, your hands fumble with the condom.

Miguel feels out of his body as you slide it down with care, hands moving as if you were molding clay. 

It wasn’t until he was on top of you that he felt that this was really happening. The foreplay between you a spot of comfort and habit.

After so long, he finally slid in deep, the pit of his stomach quivering. You were so unbearably tight.

“Y-you ok?” Miguel squeezed onto your hand, watching your eyebrows knit together. 

“Yeah, it’s just,” you chuckle, breath almost gone from the feeling of him. “You’re really big.”

Miguel’s face shifted from worried to shocked. 

“Oh! Well, I guess that’s a good thing?”

“You don’t have to guess, I can feel it.”

Miguel twitched and jolted involuntarily, causing you to whimper, your words going straight south. 

“Miguel! Stop moving.”

“Sorry! You’re really tight right now and I’m trying to focus.” 

“God,” you sigh and let your head drop to your pillow. “Are we even doing this right?”

“No clue.”

Miguel kissed your collarbone as you wrapped your arms under his. He continued to kiss across your shoulders, lips light and airy. Up your neck to your jaw, he could feel you relax and breathe a little easier. 

He grazes his mouth to your cheeks, humming as you move them closer to his lips. He kisses your temple, your eyebrows, your forehead. At your nose, you start to giggle, Miguel’s kisses leaving flutters on your skin. 

Miguel joins in on your joy, grinning as you try to return the pecks. 

“Ok,” you whisper. “I think I’m ready. You can move now.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I want you to make me feel good. I want you to feel good.”

Miguel looked at your eyes, waiting, wanting, open. He couldn’t help but to think how lucky he was to have a girl like you who was just so beautiful and lovely. 

His body is pressed against yours, the plush of your chest molding onto his. Your legs were wrapped around his thighs and your fingers danced across his back. 

He takes a hand to hold the side of your face while the other one is pressing you even closer to him. He moves out as best as he can, the warmth of you an addicting feeling, and slides back in slowly, a shallow thrust to start off. 

Your breath was hot against his mouth as you shuddered. Miguel groaned, feeling the heat of you through the thin condom. 

He moved again, watching as your face twisted and turned. Your hands are pressed against his back, palms applying pressure until the feeling stretches to your fingertips. The pricks of your nails dig softly into Miguel’s skin, muscles moving as he tucks your hair away from your face. 

By the third thrust, Miguel is moaning out, overwhelmed with you everywhere. When he breathes, you breathe. When he tightens his hand on your back, you tighten yours. When the feeling of you becomes too much to bear, you’re right there with him, eyes heavy and wet. 

Everything was heightened, from the sound of the bed squeaking as Miguel’s hips moved, to the little sounds you made when he inched in deeper. He’s scared he might shout in your face due to how good you feel so he presses against your lips, grunts coming out with each thrust. 

You take him with stride, hands balling up to fists as he gets deeper and deeper. 

His name from your lips is broken down from two syllables to four, enunciation clear enough for Miguel to know that he’s doing something right. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead, gaze reaching Miguel’s soul. “Please.”

“I won’t.” He would never leave if he had the choice. “Am I, shit, am I doing good? Do you feel alright?”

He shifts back to see your face and his heart speeds up watching you under him. Your arms fall to the bed and your mouth stutters open as Miguel continues. 

Your eyes drip as you let out staccato moans and Miguel leans down to kiss away your tears. 

“C’mon, bebé, let me know.”

You nod your head and cry out when Miguel goes even deeper. He hums against your mouth as a thank you. 

“Miggy, I,” you stop as you take a breath. 

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

A rush of heat from top to bottom filled Miguel’s core. The air left his lungs swiftly and came back in twice as fast. His back shook, nerves like a spring. All he could hear was your breaths, all he could smell was your warm skin, all he could taste was the lingering touch of your tongue, all could feel was the hot valley of you, all he could see was you.

He dies and comes back to life, sight piecing together that the stars and hearts were not part of you but they were just his muddled brain taking you in like the first day he met you. His throat burns like he swallowed hot coal. 

Your mouth is moving but he still can’t connect the words yet. He feels himself floating away. 

“Baby?” the way that your hands grip his body ground him. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Miguel nods, eyes blinking fast. “What just happened.”

“I think you came?”

Miguel looked down, and sure enough, you were right. 

He doesn’t remember you getting any relief. 

“Can I-” he groans as you clamp down on him when tries to pull out. “Can we do that again?”

You nod your head, “Please.” 

GymRat!Miguel who, after a brand new condom and a clearer mind, realizes that he has a lot of work to do. 

He knew that you were his everything, but he couldn’t deny that he was a little embarrassed. You swore to him that it was ok, flattering even, but Miguel isn’t buying it. 

Your legs were bent at his sides as he lifted your hips off the mattress. He held them up as he stroked deep and focused on the sound of your breaths. 

“B-baby,” your voice is stunted as Miguel keeps a steady tempo. “Look at me”

Miguel groans into your neck, shuddering from the sound of your voice and your hands rubbing his sides. Your moans were high in your throat, breaking as Miguel’s hands pushed and pulled at your skin. 

“I can’t.”

“Why,” your words fizzle as Miguel hits a sweet spot. “Why not?”

“If I look at you, I’m gonna cum.”

Miguel goes faster as he feels you constrict against him. The bed creaks as the sound of him delving into you gets louder and louder. 

“Oh,” your nails scratch his back. Miguel matches your voice, desperate to please you. 

You open your mouth again, a three-letter phrase ghosting your tongue. 

“D-don’t,” Miguel’s hips freeze and unfreeze as he hears the first vowel leave your mouth.

“I wanna see you.”

Miguel shifts, eyes finding yours, and he knows he won’t make it. 

He tells you just as much and you pull him closer. 

“Te amo, mi luna.”

Miguel cries as he feels the air leaving him. He reaches down to touch you, your body jolting when his fingers graze your clit. 

You cum around him and he pushed through, waiting until you were shaking to let go. 

“You,” Miguel leans his forehead on yours. Both of you are shaking, blood pumping with adrenaline. “Play so unfair.”

“But you love me?”

He cuddles into your thumbs wiping at his eyes, “So much. I love you so, so much.”

You kiss him, feeling warm and satisfied, sighing as he melts on top of you. You run your fingers through his wild hair and scratch at his name. 

After a while, Miguel perks up, eyes sparkly and big like a little puppy. 

“A-again.”

“What?”

GymRat!Miguel who pulls you to the edge of the bed by your legs. You yelp at his strength and the icy pricks of the hotel A/C coating your overheating skin. 

Miguel slides back in with a practiced ease, the angle different, but not unfamiliar. 

He held your legs and hips from the bed, watching as your body moved from the faster momentum he produced. 

Your voice reaches the ceiling as your hands grip for anything. Seeing your reaction, Miguel grips your hips and your stomach, angling even deeper. It was fulfilling until your hands landed on your chest, stopping them from jerking so.

Miguel pulled your wrists together and down, watching as your arms framed your chest. He moans out your name, eyes stuck on the picture presented before him. 

How could anyone ever believe you were not beautiful? 

GymRat!Miguel who can’t help but to ask for one more round. In your disheveled state, you tell him it’s the last one. 

The sounds leaving your bodies were enough to make the bed blush. It was something so perfect about the whispers you mewled into each other's skin contrasting the wet sound of Miguel slapping into your wet entrance. 

Somehow you were nearly bent in half, knees almost next to your ears, as Miguel’s feet were planted on the bed. You didn’t even know your body could do that. 

At every smack of skin, Miguel was moaning your name louder and louder, mind completely gone. 

“I’m, ngh, gonna cum!” Your voice comes out at a volume that matches his. 

Miguel nods, encouraging you to release, kissing along your skin. 

You shout as he swerves his hips, melting your cour as he slides along your sweet spots. 

“So good,” Miguel says, balls twitching against you as crumbles to the bed. “So amazing. Mi luz, mi sol.”

The two of you catch your breath in the dim hotel lighting, jolting with aftershocks of your anniversary. 

GymRat!Miguel who held you on his chest as you slept, lips pressed against the top of your head. He checked his phone before going to sleep, wanting to set a timer for the morning. 

A Game Exchange’s Worst Nightmare

Miggy Mig MC: I did it

Winner-Winner: ???

Ly(ability)la: Only you would announce losing your virginity like that

Tempie: omg

You’re not a baby anymore 🥺

What am I gonna do

Winner-Winner: WAIT

LESGOOOO

Tempie: I never thought this day would come

Winner-Winner: you was tearing it up wasn’t you? 🤪

Ly(ability)la: you’re so annoying

Tempie: like I didn’t prepare fast enough

I

I WASNT READY

Winner-Winner: I hope you did that trick I taught you

It gets em every time

Guaranteed banger

Tempie: This actually ruined my night

Ly(ability)la: Temp is losing it and so is Wins

Congrats to you ig

Winner-Winner: I bet she’s KNOCKED OUUOOT

Ly(ability)la: is being normal like not in your cards or…

Tempie: I think I’m sick

Miggy Mig MC: .....

Gabri 🤏🏽🤡:

“I did it”

“No fucking way"

"NO FUCKING WAY"

"AND? AND SO?"

“It was just as good as you say. That’s all I’m saying.”

"I feel like I need to throw something on the grill"

“Not too much Gabri”

GymRat!Miguel who wrapped his arms around you as you fixed up something the next morning. 

“G’morning,” you say to a heavy Miguel leaning down on you. 

“Super good morning,” his hands reach to cup your left breast and your stomach under your robe. He left a long kiss on your shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”

“‘M getting your gift together.”

“Another one?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well, let me step up my game.’

GymRat!Miguel who sits with you on the bed as you both trade gifts.

“Aw, Miguel! How am I supposed to eat these? You look so cute here,” you took a piece of candy in your hand and looked his face planted on it. 

“Like this,” Miguel takes your hand and guides the candy to his mouth. 

You smile watching him, body warm. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches your eyes glow when you see the dolphin charm with the date that you two took our first date. 

“Put it on me?”

Miguel slid the jewelry over your skin, watching as gold danced against your skin.

GymRat!Miguel who feels like crying when flipped through the scrapbook you made. Each section matched a song in the playlist you made for him. 

It was so thoroughly crafted and thought out that Miguel couldn’t stop the waterworks. 

“Why did I think that outfit was cool?” Miguel laughed wetly as he saw a picture of you both at a pumpkin patch.

“You look adorable,” you catch his tear on your thumb and hug his side.

GymRat!Miguel who drops you off at your dorm with kiss after kiss to your lips. 

Jess opens the door with a dramatic sigh, “The two of you are glowing. How cute.”

GymRat!Miguel who reaches back to his night with you every time he’s sick of the class he’s in. 

A little bit dangerous when it comes to his labs, but everything is reminding him of you. He can’t even look at his blanket without thinking about the way your shirt draped your body. 

Maybe he should make love to you with it next time.

GymRat!Miguel who is in a daze during his programming lab. 

“Earth to Miguel. Did you finish the mini code?”

“Uh, yeah,” Miguel replied to Xina. 

“Good, because I need you to check this equation really quick. I need to turn it in later this week.”

Miguel leaned over to Xina’s laptop, arm reaching across her. 

“So,” she slides her nails up his arm. “What do you think?”

“It’s fine. This part is very wrong, though.”

She squeezes at his muscle, chest pressing on him.

“Are you cold or something?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Because,” Miguel slides her laptop in front of him. “You’re really touchy today.”

“Miguel, I’m always touchy.”

She puts an arm on the back of her rolling chair and leans on her wrist. 

“True.”

“Is there a problem with friendly touches?”

“No, Xina. I’m not like that.”

“Ok,” she holds her hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That,” Miguel says turning to her, “Being weird. Overstepping.”

Xina folds her arms and nods her head, “I got it.”

GymRat!Miguel whose time with you dwindles within the next couple of weeks. If it’s not studying, it’s the robotics team. If it’s not the robotics team, it’s his class schedule never matching yours. If it’s not your studios, it’s his study sessions with Xina. 

Currently, she was sitting beside him on the first floor of the library, head on his shoulder as she sighed over a new formula. 

“This is so gross,” she said, wiping away eraser shavings.

“Did you even try?”

“Like, once. That was enough.”

GymRat!Miguel who gets your text and looks up to where he knew you’d come from. He felt like he could feel you close, but the entrance was so far away he couldn’t see. 

He got up for a second, turning and standing tall to catch a glimpse. 

“I know you’re not about to give up this. You said it was easy! That’s not the Miguel I know,” Xina grabbed his wrist, hands unbearably hot. 

His phone buzzed again. You said you were going back to your studio. 

He sighed and sat back down, mind foggy.

divider by: @thecutestgrotto + @adornedwithlight 🩵

a/n: Y'all know that gif with the smoking duck? I feel like that but I would replace the cigarette with an Icee or something.

If you want to be on the taglist, sign up here! Make sure to have your age in the bio or somewhere on your blog!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx

@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu

@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

@questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @calig0sto @tatatida @haveclayeveryday

@corpsenightmarebride @earth2fae @maiyart @feegrh32 @darkstarlight82

@ladysimp @sonicbutbutter @relatednative @slowlyshycomputer @nuetralcolorsenthusiast

@maxlinpetersen @beyondstarlight @Madeofstar-dust @leoeloo @just-simpins-blog

@poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhidedout @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@snakelore @pigeonmama @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli @koikohib

@jayskookies @xo-zeze @planetxella @thedevax @stressed-cherry

18+ mini–drabbles | miguel o’hara | 02

nerdy! miguel o’hara x fem! reader

✮ content warning: MATURE CONTENT IS PRESENT, VIEWER’S DISCRETION IS ADVISED. smut (obvi), overstimulation, cunnilingus, light fingering, and female ejaculation.

✭ author’s note: hello hello! i now have ao3! i’ll post my longer fics there instead of here! and here is a small drabble i worked on while sick! fevers always come in clutch…

main masterlist.

“Jesus…” Your jaw drops down, laughably down to the floor. “Oh my God!” Your moans fill the dorm before your hand caresses the back of his head, tugging at his wavy hair. With a heavy hand, your hand slapped against the nape of his neck and pulled him closer to your warm core. His hands squeeze your thighs in response before he allows the tip of his tongue to lick your entrance slowly from the bottom to your puffy clit. The wet muscle lingered before he eagerly took the bundle of nerves between his teeth, grazing his fangs.

“Careful…!” You slap the back of his head and scoot his head away from between your legs. “Sorry! Sorry…” He mumbles and places a gentle kiss against your clit, slowly pulling away. His face is coated, making it look like he helped himself to a serving of a sweet treat but went overboard. He licks his lips, licking the clear, slippery, and stretchy discharge. He looked like a kitten who fell into a bowl of milk face-first.

He resorts to soft, gentle nibbles against your clit before smoothing it out with the flat of his tongue, feeling the aloe vera-like sensation against the puffy ball of nerves.

“Better, thank you.” You sighed, back to basking in his touch and kitten licks. His eyes dart up, looking at you, seeing your head thrown back into your silky pillows. His mind did a double take, his sanity staggering at five miles per hour. What if he…

Those staggering ideas halted as your hands touched his face, removing those rectangular frames. His vision clouded, creating a jump, contrasting his once-assisted 20/20 vision—chills course down his spine like a snake climbing a tree. But it didn't phase him physically as he continued to bask in your warmth and taste. "Right there..." You exhale before you comb his hair back and pull him close to your needy pussy.

His nose smashing against your wet clit was not on his plans, especially on a Thursday night when he should be studying, not memorizing your taste (or anatomy) like he had a test over your warmth and taste.

"I'm close..." He hears the soft announcement but continues to savor you in bliss. He's listened to the words in some videos but didn't expect to hear you say them. His hand rests on your lower stomach, his thumb slowly rubbing the sensitive nub. "Keep it there!" The pitch in your tone jumps drastically before you wrap your legs around his head, trapping him like a spider grabbing its prey with sticky webs of deception.

The subtle nibbles and licks continue before a warm fluid waterboards him. He spits the small fluid out and kisses the inside of your thigh firmly. "Holy shit..." You reach down and gently wipe away the clear liquid off his chin. "Didn't mean to waterboard you." You giggled as you saw Miguel wipe away the mess you left on his nose. lips, and chin. "Didn't know that you were capable of..."

"Female ejaculation."

“Yeah, that…”

Imagine dbf Miguel…

art credit to a lovely moot here @gltzpzy your art gives me life 🙂‍↕️

Wearing one of his undershirts, you stand idly at his door. You shake your head in disbelief, feeling childish at the idea of you being at his bedroom door at four in the morning. With a fist, you raise it to knock on the door but fail. You didn't want to interrupt his seven hours of sleep.

“This is stupid…” You think as you slowly back away from the door.

The floorboard under your feet creaked, creating a loud groan from your heavy weight against the sensitive wood. You scrunch your brows and close your eyes shut.

“¿Princesa?” His voice sends vibrations down your spine. “Yeah?” You croak out, your tone cracking.

“Are you having trouble sleeping, princesa?”

“…no?”

The silence was enough to tell you that he raised a brow from skepticism, and you could feel it through that wooden door.

“Okay, maybe I am. I keep hearing the neighbors singing drunkardly. And I wondered if I could sleep in your room tonight.” Silence sags the cold air, but the sound of the bed creaking from the other side of the door is enough to sink a sense of guilt into you.

The door swings open, and the smell of his cologne lingers in the air before the sensation of his hand ruffling the crown of your head. “C’mon in,” he sighs before gently tugging you into the room.

The sight of his messy bed, mostly bedsheets, indicated that he was enjoying a good night's sleep before you interrupted.

“Get into bed. I warmed it up for you…” he grumbles, a half-ass attempt at a joke. He combed his bed hair back before he took the left side of the bed, allowing you to take the right side.

The moment your body landed on his mattress, the softness and warmth enveloped you like a crispy burnt marshmallow on an autumn evening. “Ven para acá, princesa.” He waves his hand over after he settles down on the bed.

“¿Just get some sleep, m’kay?” He sighs, pulling you closer to his chest while rubbing a gentle hand on your arm. “¿Duérmete, okay?”

You nod before you snuggle closer to him. “Es hora de dormir, ignora los vecinos.” He sighs, his lips resting against your temple. “Duérmete…” He mumbles.

Bonus:

The shock of waking up to 300 pounds against your chest is enough to scare anyone, especially if this 300 pounds embracing you close with no escape, especially with a loud snore filling your ears at eight in the goddamn morning.

“Dammit, Miguel.”

UNDER THE STARS ⋆⭒

⋆｡°✩ part two to: NOTHING BUT TROUBLE

credit to: @mar_marOu on Instagram & @/marmarOu on X and Tumblr!

✭ 🔞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✭

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: sometimes, a hero and a vigilante need a break from the hectic city environment.

✭ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃. miguel and the reader are in an established relationship, brief mentions of kleptomania, exhibitionism (both of y'all literally don't give a fuck but seriously, don’t do freaky stuff outside), cumplay (?), cum eatting (we are going there too), uncircumcised peepee 🤭, hard? dom! miguel, assertive behavior from the reader, cunnilingus (f! receiving), unprotected p-in-v (please go to your local planned parenthood to educate yourself), and heavy breeding kink. (he scrambles your eggs 😝)

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: +1.6k words 🤭

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Nothing But Trouble blew up overnight! thank you for your undying support! it means a lot to me 😭 if there are errors, i do apologize, it's been a month since I looked at this. I'm slowly getting back in the groove.

here’s to my followers! y’all live in my basement now 🐈‍⬛ 🩵

The low clouds in Nueva York cascaded onto the ground, creating a murky environment in now empty streets. It was a quiet night, even for Nueva York. Within the apartment buildings of the hustling city, many were home, sheltered away from the smog air. Some were fast asleep in bed with their blankets, and others were cooking a warm meal for the evening. But for you, you were dragged out of your soft, cozy bed past the window edge decorated with many potted plants and small trinkets. You were now climbing the fire escape, wearing your pajamas and a simple black sweater.

The cat dragged you out into the cold environment, away from your warm, cozy bed. You yawned as you climbed up, swiftly up the fire escape, feeling the now wet bars against the palm of your hand.

The memory of seeing a text message from Miguel immediately came to mind when your slipper fell off your foot, causing you to shoot a web at it to retreat.

The "I want to see you real quick" text meant nothing but trouble from him. He was always up to no good, leaving a little mess behind, like a cat playing with a ball of yawn, only for the poor creature to be tangled in its consequence with big, teary eyes.

Nonetheless, you continued your climb up, finally reaching the rooftop.

The cold air nipped at your skin, piercing its cold air needles through your sweater and pajamas. Bringing your hands close to your mouth, you exhale warmly to your freezing digits, rubbing your hands, seeking friction to warm your dead, lifeless fingers temporarily.

You stand idly, waiting for his arrival.

A puff of smoke escaped your lips while you yearned for your return to your warm bed and away from the cold weather. Then, your vision darkened. A pair of large hands shield your eyes from the skyscraper lights of Nueva York. "Miguel!" You squeaked, reached to grasp his hands, and forcefully attempted to pull them away from your face. "Seems like you're happy to see me." He croons against the shell of your ear. His voice vibrates against your eardrums, reverberating down to your core. "Tell me why you're here...!" You finally pull his hands away from your eyes and turn around to see him.

"I can't see my favorite person in the whole wide world?"

"No, no, you can't."

"Ouch, I'm hurt." He feigns pain, placing a hand against his "aching" chest cavity. You chuckle, delivering a punch against his shoulder, and sigh. "Really, why are you here?" He chuckles at the question, his palm rubbing away the aching punch that blossomed under his skin. "I have something for you-"

"Did you steal it?"

He frowns at the question. Sure, it was a given that he tended to snatch the next shiny thing in sight, but this time, it was... different.

"No...!" He hisses. "I bought it with my own money." He reaches down to his toolbelt and grabs a drawbag. He opens the tiny draw bag and retrieves a small royal blue box. "It's for you." He tosses the box to you. The little box jumps around your hands before it settles down on your palm. "I hope you like it." He huffs a bit of his cheeks while watching closely.

Your hands move independently, opening the tiny container. The velvet plush container revealed a heart-shaped necklace; the midnight blue stone glistened in the moonlight, shining independently. "Miguel...?"

"Now, don't get sappy on me." He scoffs, displaying a frown. Behind the frown, a smile waits to be displayed. He browsed at multiple boutiques, hoping to find something that was meant to be for you. Something that stood out from the rest. Simple, but it was made for you. "You got this for me?" You pout and soon retrieve the necklace from the velvet box.

"Do you like it?" The question felt boyish, even for him. But it was such a cute action coming from him.

"Yes! Oh my god! Help me put it on!" You bounced on the balls of your feet, ready to be climbing on the walls. "Put it on me, put it on me!" You repeat the phrase as a mantra, handing him the necklace to help you put it on. His frown breaks as he chuckles and assists you put the necklace on. "Do you like it-" He repeats and immediately gets jumped into an unsuspecting embrace. "Stop asking the question! Yes, I love it!" Your laughter fills the space as Miguel's hands work to get a proper hold of your bottom. Your laughter filled the space before the slowly descended to soft giggles and sighs.

His nose nudges against the tip of your nose, slowly creating a gap of silence between you. "Hi..." you whisper, nudging your nose against his. "Hey, " he croons as he nuzzles closer, planting a gentle kiss against your lips, molding your lips perfectly. You hum at the contact and enable the soft kiss. His fingers dig into the plush of your bottom as his claws sink deep into your skin.

Soft suckles and sighs fill your personal bubbles before pinning you down against the ledge. Your hands grasp Miguel's bicep before his chuckle greets your ears. "C'mere..." His hands move to hold onto your hips and drag you closer to his hips, rubbing himself against you at a slow, agonizing pace. "Even when it's cold out, you are warm."

You turn to look down, seeing the hustle and bustle of the streets, the lights looking nothing but a speck of light. "No one is gonna see us." He hums before he nuzzles his way to the crook of your neck, slowly placing soft kisses and trailing them back to your lips.

"Are you sure?" You push the question and lean closer to the soft butterfly kisses against your skin. "It's dark, no one is going to see." He rubs his straining member against your aching core, fluttering and waiting to be penetrated. His hands tug away at your sleep shorts, desperate to cease them off your body.

The thin line of arousal builds up against the gusset of your underwear, the slick, clear arousal clinging against your folds. "Let me get a taste." He pulls away the gusset, his fingers feeling the warmth and heat against his digits. "Look at that; you were already preparing for me..."

He kisses his way down to your core, almost moaning at the scent. You were his catnip, the temptation luring him to you, to roll his tongue at the liquid, sticky ecstasy, to drown in it.

His nose budgets against your clit as his tongue laps at your entrance, collecting the taste. The cold air, accompanying his warm breath, nipped at you as your walls clenched around nothing. You are opened up to him like a blooming flower, exposing more of your now sensitive clit. “You are too sweet…” His voice is muffled thanks to his tongue licking your entrance from the bottom to the top.

Your eyes shoot open when you feel his middle finger linger at your entrance, tracing the opening slowly. Your breathing catches you, also as if you were sprinting in a marathon. He pulls away from the intimate kiss from your lips, his lips coated in your mess. "C'mon… let everyone hear you." He purrs and pushes two fingers in, feeling you clench against his digits. "Easy there, quierida." He keeps at a steady pace, immediately hearing the wet slaps. "There we go, there we go..."

The small whimpers evolved into full moans, your moans only audible to him but immediately drowned out by the sound of honking cars and noises in every other corner of the gloomy city's lively life. "Let me hear you, let me hear..." He slurps the sticky discharge before he is immediately shoved into you by your hands. You wailed out, squirming about before he pinned you down. "Open your mouth, now." His demands muffled, not daring to move away from your puffy folds.

You did as he said and screamed out an orgasm, nearly waterboarding him. He pulls away from your puffy folds and is wholly doused. You croak out a noise, ready to say something, but get stopped. “Just keep your mouth open.” He pulls down the zipper of his suit before he frees the strained tent between his legs.

Not earning a warning on time, he spits into your mouth, giving you a taste of your cum. The strong tangy taste and substance stayed in your mouth as you kept your mouth shut in shock. "Swallow it." He heaves before he reaches down between the two of you and lazily pumps his aching cock. You reach down and pull back at the foreskin gently, allowing to see the mauve tip peek out from the extra skin.

You grab his cock, pulling him close to you and pushing him into you. He groans softly at the sensation as he rocks himself in and out of you.

You swallow your cum and bounce on him, following his lead and feeling the familiar pressure between his tip and G-spot. You flutter against his length, trying to create a consistent rhythm, but the rhythm comes out staggered and messy. "You've been working on your kegals? You little slut." He hisses while pushing you down on the ledge.

"You're getting there. I can feel it." Strands of hair begin to stick to his forehead, and sweat soon drips down onto you, landing on your blouse and occasionally on your face. "Together now, you can do it. Hold it, " he demands as the pace increases. You look over at him, mouth agape and eyes pleading. Your hands grasp his exposed bicep, fingernails leaving crescent indents and red streaks.

"No, I know what you're thinking. Not yet." You pull him close, feeling your lower stomach bubble like a witch's cauldron. He leans down, planting you a harsh kiss, his tongue creeping its way to yours. You eagerly oblige, still tasting yourself on his tongue. "Now, go ahead." He rasps, rubbing his thumb against your clit. With one final thrust, you splash the two of you, your mess landing on the floor beneath the two of you.

"There you go, I'm so proud of you." He leans in to kiss your temple and nuzzles close. He slowly pulls out and looks at your pully walls. Not even a moment later, his cum spills out of you, dribbling down past your swelling folds. "Hold on, nena." His fingers gather his cum and push his cum back into you slowly.

He pulls his fingers out, residue lingering on his fingers before he licks the mess off.

"Don't waste a drop."

Work in Progress (18+)

I have plans I cannot share with you because the haters will sabotage me.

I have plans I will not share right now because the haters will sabotage me.

ORAL FIXATION !!

₊˚ʚ 💉 ₊˚✧ﾟ. sweet tooth . 🦷🍨

☆ miguel o’hara x fem! reader ☆

☆ summary: a simple consult with the oral hygienist.

☆ content warning: cunnilingus, oral fixation, throat fucking, throat bulge (not mentioned but implied), choking, cum (lots, lots of cum), semi-voyeuristic behavior, latex glove kink (?), light degradation, and hair pulling.

☆ word count: 837 words

☆ author’s notes: yeah… I went to the dentist. my sick and twisted brain got to work after the consultation.

"Good girl."

".!"

Sticky as tree sap outside the bumpy bark, your saliva dripped down to the exam room's smooth grey wooden floors. A thin coating of precum and spit glistened from your chin down to your chest. A satisfied hum from the back of your throat resonates a low, lively vibration near the back of your tongue. Your knees ached from the textured wooden floor while your hands grasped his seat's sides, nails digging into the cushion.

Red knees and indented skin showed your shame. It created a sight of illusion. You only came in for a consultation, but the drool and precum in between your cleavage said otherwise. The red wine color tint on your lips contrasted your white teeth, but the color clashed so well with Miguel’s mauve tip.

"You said your jaw was hurting? Doesn't look like it now." He gently thrusts a bit of his length into your mouth, earning a gurgle-like moan.

"Shhh, I'll make it fit." Your eyes widen to the size of charger plates used during dinner time at an Olive Garden.

The bulging, misty look greets Miguel, but within your pupils, with a mere glance, anyone could have missed it.

The space is dominantly characterized by a wavering implication of ardor, which shows the intoxication behind the smudged pencil eyeliner and dilated eyes. Miguel’s gloved fingers weave into your hair, securing a hold at the back of your head. The lilac latex in his hands immediately clings to the rubber, creating more uncomfortable hair tugs. Some tugs were enough to catch a breather without his dick in your mouth.

The sight of precum decorating your lips like lipgloss churned. Then, an idea came to him, unwarranted.

The palm of his hand cups your chin, his fingers and thumb digging into the plush of your cheeks. "Open up." His words were vile, like a plague, but enticing to pursue immodest actions.

Through the grasps between his fingers and thumb, you nod, his cock near your cum-covered lips. He wears a dern expression when he sees you nod as he removes his hand from your hair and works his belt out of the belt loops of his pants instead. You open up barely enough to let the mushroom-like tip in between your lips and teeth, grazing the sensitive, taut skin. "A little more, querida."

The angry aching around your wisdom teeth knawed, a blade twisting deep into your gums, the blade's tip twirling at your nerves like cooked noodles gathered around a fork. While attempting to open, he thrusts his hips, his length choking you.

His happy trail tickles the tip of your nose, his fingers immediately weaving into your hair and keeping you there. He slowly pulls out but pulls you away from his happy trail, enough to give you more air to breathe. But the sensation of his now irritated tip found its way back in. "Let me know when you can't breathe." The muffled, wet gurgles filled the room.

The gentle humping against your throat overstimulated, but feeling lathered against the back of your throat was enough implication of what was going to happen. Miguel thrusts himself back in and doesn't allow any room for you to back down.

"Take it, sweetie." He urges, but the subtle drip of his precum landing on the floor with a 'plop' finally pushes the limit. You gurgle your words, but his length makes them inaudible. The words merge into vibrations and gnaw at the sensitive tip.

Despite him being in an uncomfortable position, his hands grasp your throat and gently squeeze your throat.

The soft thrusts evolved into harsher ones, and your nose got tickled by the sensation of his pubic hair tickling you. His fingers probed at your throat, his latex fingers feeling around until he seized and squeezed firmly. You gurgled and could feel your gag reflexes kick in. The mere panic in your eyes with your tears created a titillating sight.

Your hand continued to pat his thigh, an indirect beg for him to go easy on you.

But it only encouraged him to push down more, feeding you more nearly. "Stop it." He snaps, his hand grasping onto your wrist and pinning your hand down on the chair. "You can handle it."

"Stop squirming..." He groans and pushes himself, enough to feel the back of your throat. The soft thrusts evolved into rapid ones, feeling the mushroom-like tip bullying its way down, begging to be enveloped by your throat's warm, velvety walls.

The harsh, precise motions became sloppy, spit leaving puddles on the floor, his boxers, and chair. His low groans grew more audible, but he kept his mouth shut. He lets go of your throat and hair and seizes his movements. The warm fluid coats your aching throat, allowing it to work as aloe vera against irritated skin. The sensation overflowed, leaking out of your mouth. He pulls out his softening dick and cups your chin gently. His thumb wiped away your spit and his cum. "Doesn't seem like anything is hurting anymore."

Tag List: @cherrysxuya @awkward-platypus @pheebslu @bbb1rd

✓ el perdedor.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ till death do us part

miguel o’hara x fem! reader ✓

summary: Here's to the fools who dream.

content warning: bittersweet content, a “what-if” is questioned

word count: >1.0k words

author’s note: augh, the last fic I wrote was a major flop 😭 (tbh, I was expecting it because I wrote it as a joke, but some people didn't get the notice 😭) but here you go, something new and not weird 😭

♡ NOT PROOFREAD!! ♡

The knots in his stomach continued intertwining into a heap, and he could not find where they started or ended. It was enough to make him throw up. The sensation didn't make him anxious; rather, the events unfolding before him terrified him. Time slipped through his fingers like silky hair in between his fingers.

The FaceTime call was fresh in his mind. He could even recall the events he did beforehand.

It was out of nowhere, quiet literally.

He lay in bed alone, the right side empty, hoping for someone to use that side one day. But for now, the unused pillows would be his companions. The low vibrations of the mobile device buzzed obnoxiously loud, with your picture flashing on the screen.

He taps on the green button with squinted eyes. The light from the device aches his eyes as he adjusts to the dark contrast. The video call loads and the sight on his screen sink into the pits of his stomach—a shining diamond ring. “What is this?” It’s the only question that escapes his mouth. “Oh my God, Miguel! I'm engaged! He asked me!” The obnoxious, cheery tone filled the space.

Your cheery tone contrasted the sense of dread in Miguel’s gut. He never knew that your now-fiance had the nerve to pop the big question. But seeing the glistening diamond before him answered all of his doubts. “Oh wow, that’s crazy…” He mindlessly mumbles and rubs his eyes, the strain aching. His mind plagued him as you continued to ramble on and on about the date before your partner asked the question. It was too soon to happen, way too soon.

“But you better RSVP for the wedding!” He snaps awake from his clouded mind and mindlessly nods. “Yeah, of course.” He mumbles, combing back his messy, wavy hair. The call abruptly ends, and the silence weighs down on Miguel’s shoulders.

What if he pursued you like his gut told him to? Or what if he decided to homewreck the happy relationship?

He shakes his head at the idea and could never see himself getting in that sticky situation, with the high possibility of breaking your friendship and trust you had in him.

The bride reveal. This is a new tradition Miguel didn't want to be a part of but decided to play along because you really wanted him to partake in it.

Miguel is greeted by the sight of you in a lavish wedding dress. He turns around to see you smiling and bouncing on the balls of your feet. “What do you think?” you gleam, showing the ecstatic energy coursing through your veins. “You look amazing.”

More words wanted to pour into a waterfall full of exemplary words, but then words would barely get a sliver to describe your glowing features. “Really?” You pry before you squeal in excitement. “This day feels so surreal.” You beam.

He forces a chuckle before his hands adjust the veil. “I bet it does.” He pushes the words out of his lips. He sighs softly and covers your pretty face with the veil, adjusting the dainty fabric. “There we go…” He mumbles. He playfully flicks the tip of your nose, earning him an exclaim from you. A question escapes past his lips while placing a gentle finger on your nose to soothe the slight sting.

“Are you having cold feet?”

In his selfish yearning, he wanted you to say yes, to run away together, get married in Vegas, and elope. But your shaking your head confirmed that the yearning will never happen—not in this lifetime. He nods and pats your head. “Make him happy, okay?” He exhales.

You nod eagerly before you are called over to your father’s side, ready to walk down the aisle.

He looks on, seeing you hurry along to attend the service you were going to celebrate with your soon-to-be husband. You glance over your shoulder once more, giving him a smile. He returns the smile, hiding the sliver of pain in his glistening eyes.

The midnight blue sky paints the horizon as Miguel stumbles back into his penthouse. The bed left unmade, except the right side, covered in unwanted pillows.

The night ends with the right side of his bed staying cold as you become his sister-in-law by the end of the service and wedding venue that only served weak champagne that could barely muffle out the aching pain in his chest.

Bruh Xina pissing me off wtf—

Gym Rat Miguel Part 14

content warning: none!

word count: 3.4k (shoutout to the BETAAAA @slushycoookie)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

It was cold.

So cold.

The last thing he remembers was the prickles of the concrete through his pants.

Everything kept replaying in his head as if he were watching it unfold before him again. He still felt the way you pushed him, parts of his body flashing from where you shoved. The expression on your face was scorned and burned into his memory. The corners of your lips were deep, your eyes lost all color, your hands were trembling despite the steady tone in your voice, and you fought to keep the tears from running. It pained him.

He hurt you again and it was all a misunderstanding, again.

How was he so bad at this?

Miguel felt scared as he failed in opening up his constricted throat, but he couldn't stop it.

He kept thinking that maybe you would come back, maybe you were just around the corner waiting, but it feels like it’s been forever since you ran out of his room.

He needs to call you.

He needs to see you.

He needs to be near you.

Why can’t he?

“Miguel.”

A harsh hand shocks his shoulders, shaking him until the pivots and brick of the wall behind him scratch across his skin.

“Hey. Listen to me. Can you hear me?”

A frantic voice reaches the end of his ears, but it sounds far away. Was it his name? Were they talking to him?

It’s still so cold. His feet feel numb and his fingers won’t move.

The voice stops calling him and the hills in the wall are back in their rightful place, digging into his skin.

He wonders if you’re cold too.

The breath is knocked out of him, his eyes focusing on the ground under him. The air comes back into his lungs just as fast, the wind aiding him.

When did it start raining?

“Miguel,” he’s shaken again, but he can look up this time.

Peter squats in front of him with a worried face, orange bucket knocked over by his side.

“Did you just pour that on me?” is all Miguel thinks to say, his voice scratchy and almost gone.

“I panicked, ok? It was either this or the ambulance. It’s so weird to just drag your body back inside. Come on, get up before our RA actually does his job.”

With more strength than Miguel thought he had, Peter yanks him up and supports his weight, counting even steps as he guides him to their dorm room. The blood is slowly flowing back to his fingertips and the difference in temperature makes the hair on his skin rise.

One guy walks past the two of them with a look of curiosity, but the sense to not ask. Miguel starts to register how this looks.

Peter gets the door open fast and drops Miguel on a beanbag.

“You know, I didn’t expect for your party to turn out this wild. However, I also would have expected you to crash out back here. Or there. Or just, not in front of the dorm.”

Miguel’s body slumped and the events of today came crashing back onto him. He laughs, feeling the tears of his face mix with the water dripping from his hair.

He did have a party today and he did fuck up today. Majorly. The heels of his palms dig into his eyes as his body jerks, unable to keep up with his sobbing.

His roommate panics, “Did I say something wrong?”

Through what feels like a torturous hour, Miguel tells Peter what happens.

He was devastated.

It’s like a punch in the gut to repeat the words you said to him. They were like a betrayal, salt to the wound that was the finicky air between you both. He should have done more to communicate with you but instead he was leaving things up for chance.

You didn’t leave room for if’s or maybe’s and he stood there like a bumbling idiot, fighting to have you hear him.

On top of that, today was still his birthday. The party that one of his oldest friends gave to him sucked. A pack of gum would have been a better gift and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why Xina did this.

Through this same hour, Miguel can’t stop crying. He can’t stop thinking about you and he wants to tear his heart out.

It’s not until his head hits his pillow that he has serenity, body tired from the day.

He thinks he’s called your number over seventy times. After the tenth call, the line didn’t connect. By the twentieth, there was only one ring and an automated tone.

By the thirtieth call, he’s trying not to freak out. By the fortieth call, he’s checking instagram to reach you there, but of course, you’re nowhere to be found.

By the fiftieth call, he’s sending message after message to the brick wall that is your number. At sixty, he’s considering digging up your school email from last year.

At call seventy-one, he’s wondering if carrier pigeons still exist.

It’s almost noon and Peter threatened to put his phone in a box if he didn’t stop trying to call you. Miguel hasn’t really moved since last night, not because it hurts, but because the warmth of the bed still felt like you were with him.

He hasn’t gotten up to eat or workout which is not the norm. He wasn’t hungry and his limbs felt extremely heavy.

Peter left to go find him something quick and easy, but Miguel isn’t sure if would be able to stomach it.

His phone buzzes, and a small part of him perks up hoping that it’s you.

Gabriel’s picture lights up the screen, a silly photo of him with his crooked goggles on inside of the water. The hope in him dies a little more.

He presses the green button and buries himself further into the sheets.

“What is up! I’m guessing you had a wild night last night since you didn’t call anybody.”

“I-“

“But before you tell me everything, I’ve got to catch you up. First of all, a squirrel stole my Aki-way sandwich. I knew Alvin and his brothers were giving their species a run for their money, but what did he say fuck me for? Then, it’s been a freaky ass club trying to get me to join in on their sexcapades. Dana said I could have eye candy, but the people in there honestly give me the heebie jeebies. Oh! I am now a godfather to several tiny doodles. My roommate’s dog unfortunately went on the prowl.”

Gabriel paused.

“Miguel, what’s wrong? You haven’t given your obligatory one to two sentences to break up my yapping.”

“Break up.”

“What?”

“She. She broke up with me.”

The silence was so long that when Gabriel started laughing, Miguel’s nerves jumped in his skin.

“That is actually so funny, like seriously. You got me,” Gabriel focuses the blurry screen back onto his face. “Are you crying?”

Miguel dropped the phone on his bed and sat up, bringing the collar over his shirt over his eyes and back down.

“Miguel, I thought you were joking. Please tell me you’re joking. This isn’t haha funny.”

“Why would I ever joke about this?” Miguel picked the phone back up, voice raw.

“Well, what happened? I don’t understand! You were so excited to see her yesterday. And- and you guys just had your anniversary.”

“I know that. God, I-I know that.”

“And I’ve never seen you this head-over-heels for anybody, not even for that girl that entertained you for like a week in high school. Did you do something?”

“Gabriel, please let me talk.”

His brother made a face as if milliseconds were too long of a time to think.

“This semester has been tough on both of us and we, no I, haven’t been making time to see her. It’s either studying or class or something else that gets in the way.”

“That’s not enough to warrant a break up. You’re not that shallow and neither is she.”

“She thinks I cheated on her.”

Gabriel sits up and tilts his head with a frown, “Huge bomb to drop out of nowhere. She’s all you can talk about sometimes, as in you can’t think about anything else besides her. And if school is causing you guys to not meet up, when do you have time to cheat?”

“I don’t! Even if I were to be in an alternate world where I’m this sleazy, terrible boyfriend, I wouldn’t have time. I go to the gym, I go to class, I go to the library, I go to my dorm. It’s because Xina is always-“

“Pause,” Gabriel put a hand to the screen. “Stop the fucking music.”

“What.”

“What do you mean Xina?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean?”

“Xina. As in the one who kicked me out of your room when we were younger?”

“Yes.”

“As in the one who didn’t give you the time of day for years, but became friendly once you beat her highest test scores.”

“Yes.”

“As in the one who completely flipped the dynamic of your friend group.”

“That’s-“ Miguel falters, but Gabriel keeps going.

“The one who was at our house constantly, especially when she found out that your dad owns the biggest tech company ever.”

“She didn’t-“

“The one who mom conveniently likes.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“The one who’s been pining after you for years.”

“No, she has not. Why do people keep saying that?”

Gabriel barked out a laugh again, harsh. “Miguel, I love you, but you can’t be this much of a dumbass.”

Miguel clicked his teeth as Gabriel continued, over this conversation.

“Do you see the connection I’m making here? Or should I spell it out further. Because it’s so clear to me what’s happening and you don’t even have to finish the story.”

“The story is that my girlfriend just dumped me because she thinks that I’m cheating on her with Xina-“

“But why, Miguel? Why does she think that?”

“I,” he takes a breath and thinks back to what you told him while you were hurt, vulnerable on this same bed. “I have been spending a lot of time with her, but only because we share classes. And because she’s my friend. I don’t want to be with her.”

“Does Xina know that?”

“Of course she knows she’s my friend. I have no reason to not be her friend.”

Gabriel made a noncommittal noise.

“What the fuck does that mean, Gabriel?”

“Don’t get pissed off at me because I’m not gonna coddle you for being an idiot.”

Miguel wanted to end the call, but he knows it’s only going to rile Gabriel up more.

“It’s so blatantly obvious that Xina likes you. Not as a friend, but as someone to date, whether it’s superficial or not. I’m not sure how you went so long without noticing, but here we are. Every time you’re with her, you entertain her, and now that you have, shit, had a girlfriend, she’s realizing that it’s too late.”

The knot that was lodged in his throat earlier was unfurling. Maybe it’ll finally come up, but he’s not sure as what yet.

“I made it clear that I,” the words get gargled in and thrown back out, “had a a girlfriend. And even when I didn’t have one, Xina never gave me exact words-”

“Oh my god, Miguel. She didn’t have to! You’re friendly, you’re considerate, you’re caring, and she’s used that to her advantage. Please, open your eyes.”

It’s not that he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to believe that someone he knew for this long would hurt him in this way.

“She was with me every chance she got. In classes or studying or going to the gym or just relaxing.” Purposefully taking his time.

“Out of everyone I introduced her to, she was only weird to my girlfriend.” When she wasn’t the center of his attention.

“She took my phone-”

“Crazy work, by the way. The phone and the weirdness.” Gabriel chimed in.

“-to silence my notifications, to block my girlfriend’s number. And I didn’t realize it, because I trusted her.”

“And that makes a lot more sense,” Gabriel laid down in his bed, face as stern as his mom’s. “Glad we got here. So what are you going to do now?”

He didn’t even mention what Andrew told him, about how he mistook his friend for something more. Is that how others saw them when they were walking around campus too?

Is this how you felt when you saw his phone?

Miguel sat up and hung his legs over the bed, “I want to puke.”

“Hold it in, big boy. This isn’t a marathon.”

“It feels like it.”

Miguel snatched his phone and went to the bathroom, stomach rolling like converse in a dryer.

“You need to find a way to talk to everyone, especially your girl. You need to explain yourself and the situation,” Gabriel’s voice echoed off the tiles. “You’re good at talking, no matter how long it takes you to realize things.”

He chuckled listening to his brother, sliding to floor. The room was hot and saliva was building on his tongue.

“I don’t think she wants to see me.”

“Maybe give it a week? Try the middle of the week if you can’t wait that long.”

He doesn’t know how he can reach you besides showing up outside of your door or your class. Isn’t that creepy?

Maybe he can catch you in the cafe.

“Gabri?”

“Yeah, Mig?”

The noise from his throat enters the air before his words do. All he sees is the white of the toilet and the fuzzy brown of the hamburger bath mat Peter insisted on buying.

“I didn’t think you were serious!” Gabriel shouts over his gagging.

Nothing was even coming up, just bile and the buildup of his feelings since yesterday.

“I’m turning you down,” Miguel can feel Gabriel grimacing without even looking at him. “You’re really lovesick. What are you going to do when you guys get married?”

His stomach lurched again.

“Will I even make it that far?” An image of you at the alter flashed by, and when he lifts the veil, the look on your eyes as you stood in this bathroom is painted on your face.

You might leave him at the alter. Forget the alter, you might not ever look at him again.

He coughed and heaved over the bowl.

“I hope you don’t do this when you actually talk to her, Miguel.”

“Shut. Up.”

In the brightly lit bathroom laid out on the floor is how Peter found him. By this point, Gabriel was practicing his instrument under the guise of calming Miguel down.

He leans over him with his hands on his hips, “Don’t tell me you got into my Twisted Teas without me.”

Gabriel paused his music to let out a sharp laugh.

“No,” Miguel groaned and put an arm over his head.

“He’s been crashing out for the past forty, almost fifty, minutes,” Gabriel says. “But now that you’re here, I’m gonna clock out. Let me know what you decide to do Miguel.”

Peter holds a bag up and smiles, “How does some warm, yummy potato soup sound?”

Miguel bolts up and gags.

“Not a fan favorite, I see.”

By Sunday, he’s able to get up with heavy eyes do some light walking around the park, the autumn sun a nice change of scenery.

He wonders how you’re faring.

A part of him hopes you’re not like him: sick, exhausted, and aimless. Another part of him, as crazy as it is, wishes for you to yearn for him as much as he’s yearning for you, to feel what he’s feeling, to care as much as he does.

He’s seeing you everywhere.

In the leftover box of cookies left on his desk, he thinks about how much time you could have spent on writing the messages.

In the figure of you both showcasing a night where you looked at him an aura of comfort.

In the brown bear keychain on his backpack that mocks him.

In the stickers on water bottle that he picks at while he walks.

In the lockscreen of you that he took of you as you were laid under him. You were in his hoodie, under his blanket, and staring up at him like he was giving you the world.

Perhaps he hit his head somewhere between Friday to today.

His throat is still throbbing from the crying, from running out after you in the chilled night without his keycard, but his head is clearer.

Now, he’s ready to think about how to approach you.

By Tuesday, everything seems to be blurring together. The only thing that has stayed consistent is the gym.

The gym gives him peace in a way that the right corner of his dorm doesn’t. It doesn’t change, only giving to him what he gives to it.

Maybe that’s what happened with you and him. You’re only giving him the pain that he gave to you.

He doesn’t want to go to class, but he can’t afford to not go.

So he drags himself to the computer lab.

Sitting down, he tries to think about what he wants to say, rolling the words over in his head.

“Miguel!”

Irritated is the first feeling that sits within him and the smell of that nutty sweet vanilla wasn’t helping.

“Dude? All of a sudden you don’t answer your phone?”

“You would know a lot about that, huh?”

Xina laughs and shakes the mouse at her computer, “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t have the patience for you to act like everything is ok.”

“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you do some extra partying without me?”

“Xina,” Miguel turned to her, eyes tired. She was wearing another bright set today and the words that Gabriel, Tempest, Lyla, and Winston were telling him echoed through his mind. “What was the point of the ‘party’ you threw for me?”

“You’re upset over that? A simple college party?”

“That’s not what that was. You didn’t throw that for me. So please tell me why you’ve gone so far as to push my girlfriend away?”

“What?” Xina’s face switched like a light. “You must be joking.”

“Xina, I know you went in my phone and blocked her number. Why did you that?”

He’s giving her the floor to answer. To tell the truth.

“Of course this is about her. I, I just can’t”

“You-you can’t what, Xina?” the pitch of his words match her, head shaking incredulously.

“I can’t believe one girl is about to ruin an almost two-decade friendship because she can’t stand the fact that you have friends that are also girls.”

“You’re not serious.”

“No, you,” she points a nail at him, “are not serious. This is so fucked.”

“What’s fucked is that you’re avoiding my question, when all signs lead back to you.”

She stares at him, lips tight, “And you’re sure of it.”

“Who else would it be?” he motions to the space around him, “We’ve been tied at the hip this entire semester.”

“So this is seriously happening. Right here. Of all places.”

“You don’t get it, Xina. All of these years, I was the one who defended you. When everyone told me to leave you alone, I stayed by your side because I knew the real you. This,” he moves his hands up and down, “is not you.”

The face that Xina wears sours. For a second, Miguel wonders if, even in this situation, he was still wrong.

“So why aren’t you fighting for me anymore?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper. “Miguel-”

“I’m not going to fight for someone who is willing to hurt me in this way. I’m not fighting for someone who won’t even give me the truth when I’m begging for it.”

She pats at her cheeks, a useless action to stop the tears that start to hit her sweater. Her eyes find Miguel’s and she searches for something, anything, but his face is still.

“Understood.”

Just as quickly as she came in, she left.

Once again, Miguel was left questioning what he did.

divider by: cafekitsune + adornedwithlight + strangergraphics 🩵

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx

@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu

@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

@questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @calig0sto @tatatida @haveclayeveryday

@corpsenightmarebride @earth2fae @maiyart @feegrh32 @darkstarlight82

@ladysimp @sonicbutbutter @relatednative @slowlyshycomputer @nuetralcolorsenthusiast

@maxlinpetersen @beyondstarlight @Madeofstar-dust @leoeloo @just-simpins-blog

@poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhidedout @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@snakelore @pigeonmama @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli @koikohib

@jayskookies @xo-zeze @planetxella @thedevax @stressed-cherry

📂— DIA’S KINKTOBER M.LIST

Hey guys! It’s dia and welcome to my kinktober masterlist! 🦇🍭

I'm excited to participate in this event as I’m ready to write outside of my comfort! This has been something that I've been looking forward to since last year! So please be nice 🥹 Other than all that, enjoy your visit here on this blog, and HAPPY OCTOBER!

grab your snacks and drinks because let’s get this movie night started! 🍿🥤

MOVIE PREMIRE | KINKTOBER: MIGUEL O’HARA 🕷️

↳ RATED: X FACTOR (CONTENT NOT MADE FOR EVERYONE, SEQUENCES OF EXTREME KINKS AND ECCENTRIC BEHAVIOR)

THE FOLLOWING CONTENT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR YOUNG AUDIENCES. VIEWERS' DISCRETION IS ADVISED

📄 — OCTOBER 2ND | TAKE A SEAT

↳ face sitting → a wild west au with a twist! an outlaw crashes at your B&B and makes himself welcome in your tiny business.

📄 — OCTOBER 9TH | FULFULLING

↳ tba →

📄 — OCTOBER 16TH | DEEP DOWN

↳ tba →

📄 — OCTOBER 23RD | TOO MUCH

↳ tba →

📄 — OCTOBER 29TH | cumming soon

📄 — OCTOBER 30TH | cumming soon

📄 — OCTOBER 31TH | cumming soon

©monarchberrysblog ➣ don’t steal my work or repost it on other platforms (ex. Wattpad, AO3, Fanfiction.net, etc)

📄 — take a seat (wild west au)

now presenting…

𐚁⊹₊ ⋆ kinktober | day one → face sitting

🔑 outlaw! miguel o’hara x fem! reader 🔑

🌵 summary: an outlaw crashes at your B&B and makes himself welcome in your tiny business.

🌵 content warning: edging, arousal from suspension, fingering, cunnilingus (fem! receiving), a surprise at the end 😗 as I mentioned before, this isn't like my usual smut. VIEWER’S DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

🌵 word count: >1.0k words

🌵 author’s notes: this is my first fic where I bend the rules. I hope y’all enjoy it! I did a lot of research for the last segment… oh my, oh lord.

🌾 not proofread! 🌾

link to → kinktober m.list

Credit given to @bluesidez for giving me light inspo for this! (They are working on a somewhat similar AU, so please give them all the love and support!) 💛🩵

A warmness crept into your eyes, pleading for you to release the waterworks. But you kept it in, not wanting to embarrass yourself. The only things that were escaping from you were your soft moans and sighs.

The soft kisses to your lips became hungry, desperate—a man seeking hydration from being out in the desert for days without water. “Miguel—” You choke on your words and grasp his thick, wavy locks, only pushing him towards your core. He forcefully pulls away, a mischievous look on his face. The wetness coated his chin and lips while an intoxicated shade of crimson was evident in his eyes. “Use your words.” He demands. He places a heavy hand down on your abdominal area, keeping you down on the mattress. “Oh, fucking hell—” Your breath staggers like a train’s engine as you thrust your hips up to his mouth.

“That works, too.” He breathes out. His canine grazes at your clit before licking a slow strip up, keeping his eyes on you like a predator looking at his prey. But the shade of crimson in his eyes only darkened when an idea crossed his mind. He slowly pulls away, licking his lip and looking at the sight before him. “C’mon… take a seat.”

“Excuse me?” You tilted your head up from the soft pillows, the edge of the build-up of stimulation fading along with your excitement.

He removes his undershirt and sits beside you, getting comfortable against the bed. “Take a seat.” He repeats, soon pointing at his face. You exhale a sigh of disbelief while you find your words, which you have been struggling to do all night. “I’m not going to sit—”

“Take a damn seat. None of that hovering bullshit.” He snaps, his hand gesturing you to come closer. You did as he demanded, straddling his face but not wholly putting your weight down.

His hands guide you up to your hips and waist and yank you down to his mouth immediately.

Instead of the soft kisses he exchanged, his lips and tongue moved fervor, savoring you as if you were his favorite meal. “Give me a moment…!” Your hand reaches down to yank Miguel’s hair to pull him away. He only moved closer, not giving you a breathing chance to recuperate.

You collapse onto the flimsy headboard, resting your forehead against its top. The soft kitten licks soothed your fluttering core, his tongue lingering on your clit.

You sighed contently and settled down. But after a few soft sighs and breaths, a soft push against your entrance staggered your breathing. Miguel’s finger gently nudged into your fluttering core, slowly sliding in. “There we go…” The wet gushing sound echoed throughout the space, voiding the space of silence. A loud, obnoxious moan escaped from the back of your throat, a loud, high-pitched sound you could have never imagined that you could conjure up. You roll the curb of your forehead against the headboard and move against his fingers, running away from them.

“No, no…” He cooes to you, pushing in a second finger. “Don’t run away from me now.” Miguel’s voice is muffled as he dives into another kiss, still making his fingers into your greedy entrance. His fingers curl slightly, pushing down on your g-spot. The slow, warm build-up formed in your lower stomach, and it was only a sensation that you were familiar with. A sensation that told you to get off.

“Wait! Stop! I need to go!” Your eyes dart down to Miguel, but he ignores your pleas. “You’re doing fine, sweetie.” His words are muffled, continuing his feast in between your legs. “I think not, I’m about to—” It was too late. A warm stream leaked out with the bubbling sensation, soaking the pillows and Miguel. You exhaled a sigh of relief, no longer feeling the bubbling sensation in your lower stomach.

The movements within a few seconds flashed as you were now laying on your back on the bed and feeling a cold barrel against your puffy clit. “Huh…?” You attempt to peek down before his hand meets with your neck and pins you down onto the bed. “Stay still.” He commands, moving the barrel up and down the bundles of nerves. “Take it easy…” He whispers before the said cold barrel slips inside with ease. You pursed your lips and inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, I'm not gonna pull the trigger.”

Your inhale of air came to a seize. When did he grab the colt?

“Unless you want me to.”

“No…” You choke out. The engraved patterns on the barrel rubbed against your clit slowly, as if the bundles of nerves traced the design and wanted to memorize the texture. “Good girl.” the once cold colt mellowed out with your warmth, fogging the barrel. The thrusting of the weapon became futile, becoming more of an impossible task. “You’re close, aren't you?” He darkly chuckles as he continues with the same steady motion before you soak the colt, adding a coat of shine to the weapon. “No…” You feign confidence but fail the moment you kegal onto the barrel and finish, coating the silvery gun with a shimmer.

He pulls out and leans down, giving your entrance a deserving kiss before towering over you and rewarding you with a soft kiss. “You did so good.” He whispers, his voice sending goosebumps down your spine. He collapses next to you and pulls you close, rubbing a gentle hand down your spine. “You did good.”

tag list: (if you like to be tagged please fill out the google form on my pinned post)

@hyjionie @zaunsin

Might be an angst 🤨 idk just yet, I'm improving on the angst department

Since Miguel’s b-day is in a week, would y'all like a fic unrelated to kinktober? 😗

HEHEHEHEHEHJEJEJE

snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst

warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)

a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!

main masterlist.

You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly. 

When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow. 

“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.

Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.

“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

A beat of silence. 

“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard. 

You took a step back. “My universe…?”

After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”

You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best. 

But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.

It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.

Right?

“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him. 

The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto. 

Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you. 

“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!” 

Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.

“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”

Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air. 

Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view. 

“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless. 

Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.

Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples. 

Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense. 

Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.

Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”

A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”

“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.” 

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal.”

With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.

“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”

You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained. 

“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.” 

There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.

You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”

Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.

If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.

“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”

The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.

“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.

“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”

“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression. 

“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”

You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!” 

His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”

“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”

With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out. 

“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”

Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”

Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.

Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”

To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.

“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence. 

You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”

The months pass by in a blur. 

You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him. 

“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier. 

“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”

You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.

“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”

With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”

The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal. 

Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.

As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip. 

“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.

Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”

Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.

Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.

But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.

Then there was you.

It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.

Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—

To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.

It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face. 

“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”

“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”

“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”

Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”

Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps. 

You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.

“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.” 

“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”

You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”

“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!” 

You blinked.

“What?”

Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.

“What?” he parroted.

“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”

“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?” 

Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”

You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.

Miguel was crazy about you?

After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).

“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”

“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.

He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”

“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”

Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”

There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.

“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited. 

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago. 

You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips. 

With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.

“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”

A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.

The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?” 

Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.

Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.

You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite. 

“Oka—mmph!” 

His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper. 

When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.

“He was right,” said Miguel.

“Who was?”

“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”

At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”

You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”

His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you. 

When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.

He was falling in love with you. 

The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.

Cece has updated. I repeat, Cece has updated!!

A Second Chance PT 9

Summary: After the loss of his daughter Miguel wants nothing to do with kids that is until he impulsively offers his pregnant neighbor a job at the Spider-Society.

Tags for this chapter: Grumpy x Sunshine, Double life, Secret Identity, FLUFF, Vulgar language, Miguel x reader, Spiderman 2099 x reader, them being awkward, Reader going into labor......8.8k words

AND BEFORE Y'ALL SAY ANYTHING YES IK I TOOK FOREVER AND I'M SO SO SORRY!!! There's not really much to say other than I started working my school load got worse and when I finally got to writing and wanting to edit I was sick really bad for damn near a whole week. BUT I'M HERE NOW AND I'M PRESENT! I tried to let y'all know I'm alive by answering some anon asks, comments etc. Another thing Idk if it's because the tag list is too long but for the past 3 or 4 chapters as the tag list grew Tumblr was giving me a major problem uploading the chapters. And I know we only have one more chapter after this but unfortunately, I can't add any more of you guys. So if you want to get notified for the last chapter and future stories that I have you'll have to follow me and turn on notification. I'M SORRY LOVELIES.

Disclaimer there will be descriptions of a woman going into active labor. (Nothing too vivid) Although everyone's labor story is different and of course, people who have been pregnant will be able to explain and give a better description. I have not been pregnant before so I don't have a proper understanding of what really happens during that time. Just wanted to give you guys a heads-up and apologize if I got anything wrong. Mwah<333

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

You stare at Miguel in horror as he slowly closes his eyes.

“M-Miguel..?” Your voice is so small you can barely even hear yourself. Immediately you place your fingers on his neck to check for his pulse. You meant it with every fiber in your being that you wouldn’t know what to do if you lost him. You want him there with you…you need him.

You let out a strangled cry when you managed to feel his pulse. You look at Lyla as you wipe your face. “L-Lyla where are they he's still alive but he needs to-”

“They're on their way, it has to be through a helicopter the roads well…you know” You nod your head before you gently begin to stroke his face with one hand as the other rests on your stomach.

You can hear the helicopter coming from a distance. So you place a kiss on his forehead before Ben helps you up as the paramedics emerge from the helicopter a few feet over. You watch as they slowly begin to load Miguel onto the stretcher that they have. Gathering the information that you need from the paramedics to locate him you wait until Peter gets help before allowing Ben to take you home.

As much as you protest against it he didn't allow it. Nor did Lyla. All you wanted to do was go straight to Miguel but that wasn't even an option. Their reasoning “Miguel would kill us if he found out we allowed you to walk home by yourself, especially after all this”

Once reaching home you try your hardest to calm yourself down for your sake and the baby's. You quickly grab your hospital bag just in case and fill it up with snacks you plan on staying by his side for as long as you can before you are forced to leave.

•°~°•

Finally making it to the hospital and given today's current events everything is a mess. Doctors are running everywhere, patients are overflowing the hallways, there's clearly no room for them. You gently cradle your stomach as you take in your surroundings there's blood…. everywhere. Some people are screaming out in agony while others try their best to apply pressure to their wounds.

You make a beeline for the front desk and ask for Miguel O’Hara. It takes a few minutes for the receptionist to find Miguel but when she finally does you have to try to keep your cool when she says you can't be allowed to see him. You blurt out that he's the father of your child and she looks at you up and down before giving you the directions to his room.

You decided to go by yourself because you knew the Spiders were busy. You know that they have bigger things to worry about and…it just doesn't seem fair. Plus you're positive that they'll get here eventually. He is their boss after all. You have to count even numbers in your head to keep yourself focused. This is the only way that's preventing you from crying. You just can't believe that it has come to this. Ben almost died, Miguel almost died and so many innocent people got caught in the crossfire. None of this would've happened if it wasn't for your ex.

None. Of. This.

You know he said that this isn't your fault but as you pass by taking note of the amount of injured people and the amount of people covered in dust from the fallen buildings you are slowly starting to think otherwise. You try to blink back your tears as you finally reach his room. Taking a deep breath you enter as you exhale. From the distance, you can see there are bandages wrapped around his left arm, his forehead, and even his abdomen. Slowly you pull up a chair next to his bed holding onto his hand before gently brushing his hair back. As you examine his features you take note of his busted bottom lip and the lack of color in his face.

You hate this…you hate this a lot. He's like this because of you all of this the pain, the suffering everything is because of you. You place a gentle kiss on his forehead before deciding to give your doctor a call. Granted you are sure that she's probably busy but you want to check in to make sure everything is alright with the baby.

•°~°•

Each day for the next 3 weeks you stayed in Miguel's room for 5 hours. You couldn't help it not being there with him not knowing if he's going to be okay not knowing if he's making progress. Not knowing if he's going wake up….

You hate every minute of this.

You hate that as each day goes by you're dealing with the horrible aftermath that your ex created. It's in the news, and the newspapers, multiple streets are still closed off because of all the debris that still litters the roads. It’s devastating how dreadful the city of Nueva York has become although not many people voice their opinions you can see it all around you. While you go to the grocery store and go to and from the hospital then the Spider Society. You can tell that people are visibly shaken up by the attack and each time you do you feel yourself slowly being ripped apart.

Pausing in your tracks you stop staring down at your stomach as you feel her moving around. She's been moving around way more than usual, it feels like but your doctor said that it's normal around this time.

You've been trying to keep yourself busy by helping out at Spider Society in any way that you can but they don't really allow you to do anything. You can tell that everyone feels sorry for you as you walked along the halls, saw their small smiles and felt the reassuring touches on your arm. Deep down inside you know that they know who Spinebreaker was to you. Maybe they are just too scared to say anything.

You are pulled out of your thoughts when you feel a breeze as a doctor passes by. Holding your stomach you gently begin to walk towards Miguel's room. You're 37 weeks pregnant and honestly, you're just ready to meet your baby girl. On top of all of that the stress and your constant worrying about Miguel, Peter and the rest of the Spiders, and just everything else. It's not making things any easier.

•°~°•

You sit in Miguel's room across from him crocheting socks for your baby. Is it selfish for you to hope that he wakes up before she gets here so you won't be alone? You're scared….really scared that you'll have to do this all on your own. Although it's still early your stomach has dropped. It's not completely low but it's lower than it was this morning. Since Jess just had her baby you've been asking her any questions that you could think of so you could be ready.

You let out a deep sigh as you stretch your neck. Deciding it's time to take a break you put the yarn down on your lap and sink further into the chair as you begin to rub your stomach. You're hungry again but the last thing you want to do is get up. Your stomach is grumbling or at least you think it is. You decide to hum a song that your mom used to sing to you when you were younger before closing your eyes.

You don't know how long your eyes were closed but when you open them you watch Miguel's fingers twitching. You think nothing of it because his fingers have been twitching before over the past 3 weeks. But the longer you stare you realize that it's tapping to the beat of the song. Beginning to sit up straight you quickly begin to hum the song a little louder. You gently sit on the bed, careful not to sit on him. You begin to stare at him before placing a gentle hand on his face as the other one rests on your stomach. The minute his eyes flicker open you can already feel your tears fighting to break through. Too scared to speak and too scared that you’ll end up scaring him in the process you sit there quietly stroking his face as he begins to rapidly look around the room.

“Y-You’re okay just in a hospital. Everything's okay now….he's gone. He can't hurt me or anyone anymore” You watch as he opens his mouth presumably to speak but nothing comes out.

“It's okay take your time”

You watch as he slowly manages to bring a hand to rest on the opposite side of your stomach.

“Are you guys okay?”

Quickly moving your hand that’s on your stomach to rest on his you rapidly nod your head.

“Y-yeah we’re okay….hungry but okay,” You say in between short laughs.

Watching as he slowly begins to move you give him some space as he sits up. You begin to stand so you can help him prop up pillows behind his back but he waves you off and moves over patting the bed so you can sit. Happily following orders you take a seat as you begin to wipe away stray tears.

“I’m sorry”

Immediately your eyes meet his and you look at him confusedly. “Please don’t apologize to me otherwise I’m going to be crying for the remainder of my pregnancy” And of course, he doesn’t listen.

“I’m sorry……for leaving you….both behind for so long I-” You cut him off with a shake of your head as your tears begin to fall all over again.

“We’re just glad to have you come back to us….it’s been hard without you” Miguel looks at you then his eyes dart down to your stomach before he slowly begins to take off the bandages on his abdomen as the sun peeks through the curtains. He takes a peek checking to see if there are any wounds and to your surprise his stomach is bare. As if nothing ever happened. You quietly watch him as he begins to assess his wounds. Not sure of what you should do you let him do his thing. But you feel like you should call a doctor or nurse in here.

He begins to roll his neck and stretch out his arms and legs as popping and cracking sounds fill the air. “How long?” You rest your hands under your stomach before you find the courage to answer him.

“Uh…it's been 3 weeks Miguel” A beat passes before he speaks again and with the look on his face you know that it isn't anything good. You open your mouth to speak just as he begins to rip out the IV from his arm. A loud sound from the machine fills the room Miguel pays it no mind as he begins to get off the bed.

Slowly you begin to get off the bed. “Miguel wait you can't just-”

He cuts you off.

“Let's go didn't you say you were hungry” You stare at him in bewilderment. “I-I mean yes but you can't just-” Before you finish your sentence nurses and doctors run into the room and immediately begin accessing Miguel and coaxing him back into his bed. You step out of the way so they can do their thing.

“I'm fine just get me my papers so I can be dismissed”

“No you were just in a coma for 3 weeks we need to check to make sure-” He cuts them off with a brush of his shoulders.

“I'm fine just let me go”

You watch as the doctors begin to fix the IV and the nurses begin to assess his wounds…that uh no longer exist.

“Sir you can't just leave—Oh your wounds are….”

“Yeah I know my wounds are healed, can I go now?”

You get surprised when one of the doctors turns to you. “Can you please convince him to stay?” Your eyes dart to Miguel and you guys stare at each other for a bit and before you can even say anything you watch as his shoulders sag and he lets out a sigh.

“Fine but make it quick”

•°~°•

For the next hour, Miguel's doctors and nurses check on his vitals, his heartbeat, and his blood pressure. They even called in the physical therapist so they could do a few exercises with him just to make sure everything was okay.

You both are currently walking to the parking lot in silence. You try to follow him as much as you can but he even slowed down for you and you still can't manage. Keeping your hands under your stomach as you watch him walk only a few feet in front of you a small smile emits on your face. You're just really happy that he's back and for the most part, he seems to be doing well.

You look down at your stomach before you decide to slowly rub it. You wonder to yourself how big could you possibly get.

“What are you over there smiling about?” When you look up you see that he has his hand out for you and that he stopped walking. You reach for it and he intertwines your fingers together before you both start slowly waking again.

“Nothing I'm just happy you're here I really missed you” He looks at you briefly and squeezes your hand.

“I missed you too” You walk in silence and by the time you reach your car, it takes you both 2 minutes to decide who's going to drive.

“Do you even remember how to drive?”

“I was in a coma, not 6 feet under” You roll your eyes as he gets into the driver's seat and the ride back home falls in comfortable silence. When you finally reach your place you stand there shifting your feet as you look up at him unsure of what to say. Prior to all of this, you both shared something, exchanged three words, and a kiss. You told him you loved him and he said it back…did that actually mean something or was that all in the spur of the moment. Deciding to do what you do best you start up a conversation in hopes of getting over this…uh awkward state.

Here goes nothing.

“Did you grow you look taller”

“You look healthy”

You pause realizing you both spoke at the same time. “If by healthy you mean big sure I gained weight in these past 3 weeks''

He sighs before he answers, rubbing the back of his neck with his right arm. “Well, it looks good on you” You give him a small smile before you begin to fiddle with the doorknob.

“If you say so…I'm just ready for her to be here. I'm ready to meet her, hold her, touch her. I can't wait Miguel” You place a hand on your lower back before rubbing your stomach.

“I…can't wait either” You lock eyes with him for a brief moment and as you smile at him you swear you catch him doing the same.

“Really?”

“Really”

Silence fills the hall and Miguel takes a step closer to you. He takes a deep breath before he takes his left hand to cradle your face.

“Listen, I meant everything that I said before-” His words were cut off by the flashing of his watch. Damn, you forgot you got another one from Lyla for him.

You tuck some of your curls behind your ears as you let out a nervous laugh.

“Duty calls I guess” He sighs before he swipes his thumb across your cheek before tucking his hand back into his pocket.

“I mean you don’t have to go…since you know you just got back and all maybe you should rest. You know and start back tomorrow” You begin to wipe your palms on your leggings as they begin to sweat.

He begins to slowly shake his head as he takes a step back.

“It's…been a while I should probably check and see if they turned the whole place upside down”

“Oh okay um yeah you should go and do that” You begin to unlock your door only opening it a little bit just enough so your feet can peek through. “You know they missed you right?” He scoffs at your words and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah right”

“I'm being serious we all missed you Miguel…so don't ever pull a stunt like that again”

“Yes, I'll try not to die from here on out” Rolling your eyes as you fully step inside you linger with your hand on the doorknob while resting your head on the door.

“Well I’ll be here you know if you ever need me or anything”

“Yeah…I know. I’ll let you know if anything” He gives you a nod before walking away. You wait till he disappears from your line of view before closing the door and the minute you do Lyla emerges from your watch.

“Really that's it?” You pause as you take off your shoes to look at her. “I don't know what you're talking about”

“You guys haven't seen each other in three weeks. You guys kissed and said you loved each other and that's the best you got?” You roll your eyes at her as you begin to make yourself a snack.

“Well what else was I supposed to do…you know how nervous he makes me. As a matter of fact, where were you that exact push of courage would've been great”

“I was trying to you know…give you guys space. But that clearly didn't work. Now go and call him back so you guys could talk” You immediately begin to shake your head no. “Lyla, you and I both know that man is halfway there and he won't come back just because-” She cuts you off.

“That's the thing though he would come back just because you asked” You sigh as you sink into your couch with your jar of pickles in hand. “Maybe another time….and I'm sure he really wants to get back to work you know him” Lyla gives you a shrug before disappearing back into the watch.

•°~°•

A few days have gone by and you haven’t really spoken to Miguel since you last saw him. It was to be expected though since he’s been gone for a while. He has checked in with you a few times but apart from that you haven’t seen him. Every time you have gotten on the phone it has been...uh kind of awkward and to say you hate it would be an understatement. But to have that conversation of “What are we” over a watch just doesn’t seem right to you. Maybe Lyla was right maybe you should've called him back so you could talk things out.

But on the brighter side of things you are now 38 weeks and 4 days and yes you have been keeping track of the days. You meant it when you said you can’t wait for her to get here. Her movements have gotten a little bit more frequent or more powerful you should say.

Today you've woken up feeling more tired than usual. You're not trying to freak yourself out but as you looked in the mirror your stomach has definitely dropped really low and that means you could potentially have the baby very soon. You haven't been feeling any contractions though so it probably isn't going to happen today but still, you're so nervous. You've been just doing routine checks on the nursery and your hospital bag making sure that everything is ready.

To say you are nervous would be an understatement are you really going to have to do this all alone? The only person whom you would think to call is Miguel….but would he even want to come? Especially learning that he had a daughter. Wouldn't this be weird for him? Plus you don’t even know where you guys stand since you haven’t really had that chance to talk. But you do know you feel the most comfortable with him and honestly you wouldn’t want anyone else. You meant it when you said that you love him….you just hoped that he meant it too.

•°~°•

A few days have passed and you finally made it to 39 weeks. All day you've been experiencing some pains that you were able to confirm with your doctor are contractions. It hasn't been in short intervals like you know it needs to be but you do know that the pains have a little kick to it.

Now in the middle of the night 5 am to be exact and you woke up to a pain in your stomach and lower pelvis.

You've barely been able to keep calm while making breakfast and by lunchtime, the pain is slowly starting to increase. You can’t believe you’re going to say this but you think the baby is coming today. Finally deciding to make the decision you decide it’s best to take a shower and just…get ready.

You are standing in front of the sink lotioning up, nervous out of your mind as you feel her moving around. The minute you feel a very prominent kick your movements come to a halt the second you hear it. Immediately turning your head to look at the shower in case you didn't fully close the faucet all the way. Feeling tears forming in your eyes you immediately glance down.

Your water broke.

You take a deep breath bracing your hands on the counter. You try not to let your emotions run too high but that's easier said than done. After you finish getting dressed you stare at your watch before deciding to give him a call. You wait patiently for him to pick up as you rub your stomach. It however keeps on ringing and heads straight to voicemail. Letting out a deep sigh you pause for a second deciding to check in with Lyla before calling him again.

“Hey, Lyla is he busy right now? Actually don’t answer that can you let him know that I'm trying to reach him” Lyla quickly nods her head before assessing your features. “Honeybun why do you sound like that” You begin to rub your stomach as you let out a nervous laugh. “I-I think I’m going into labor” Lyla takes in a sharp breath before she starts jumping up and down.

“Ahhh oh my gosh it's happening okay okay getting him right now”

You call him one more time in the hope that he answers but when it goes to voicemail again you decide to just leave him one. Dammit, maybe he’s really busy then. When it goes to voicemail again you decide to just leave him one.

“Hey so I am a little hesitant to do this but…my water broke and I'm having contractions..and you're the only person I thought to call-” You're cut off the second you feel another contraction sneaking up on you. “S-Sorry that was another contraction…if you want to come or tag along or whatever then you can I'm going to head to the ho-” You're cut off as the watch turns off. The time ran out…

You grab everything that you need and check once again to make sure everything's ready. You forgot to put the car seat in the car so you have to carry it along with your bag. Quickly grabbing the blanket that Miguel made for her you take a quick glance at your place before heading out. Next time you'll be here you won't be alone anymore.

•°~°•

Miguel is so engrossed in his work that he misses the first notification on his watch. He's currently having a staring contest with the line of canon events making sure that everything is where it needs to be. He’s been gone for so long that he just knows that he has a lot of catching up to do. It isn't until he feels the vibrations from his watch for the second time and Lyla pops up in front of him he knows that he the was to take his eyes away from the screens.

“If I were you I would answer the phone”

“Lyla I'm-” She cuts him off.

“Just answer the phone she's calling you dammit” Miguel immediately looks at his watch but as soon as he looks it cuts out. He begins to walk away from the screens tapping away till he gets to his voicemails. 

……..

If he's being honest he didn't even have to listen to the rest of the voicemail before he was out the door. The minute he heard the words “water broke” his webs were already out and he was swinging to the nearest building.

Dammit if he knew it was you he would've answered the phone right away. He would drop everything for you it doesn't matter the time or the place when it comes to you…he'll be there. He just hopes you haven't started driving yet. Although being in this kind of situation essentially brings back both the most painful yet most beautiful moments of his life but the mere fact that you called him must mean that you want him there...right?

•°~°•

Walking very slowly to your car you have the car seat in one hand and your hospital bag on your shoulder. You have to place down the car seat when you feel another contraction approaching. Resting your hands on your lower back you slightly stretch hoping to relieve some of that pain. 

You close your eyes tightly for a brief second and when you open them you have to wipe away a stray tear. Maybe you shouldn't try to drive yourself in this state. Before you can even go to pick it up you immediately take note of the person you see jumping from roof to roof. It doesn't take you that long to realize that it's Miguel.

A small smile emits on your face as you watch him quickly make his way to you. He takes his both hands to cradle your face and his mask immediately disengages. 

“Are you okay? Tell me how you are feeling, please. I came as fast as I can”

You lean into his hands, relishing in his touch and the warmth of his skin. “I'm okay I-I didn't know if you were going to come or not but I'm….glad you're here. She's coming Miguel and I'm so scared” You hold onto his wrist as he leans his forehead on yours.

“You're going to do so great you hear me. I'll be right there with you as long as you want me” You nod along to his words; you really don't think you could do this alone. 

“Yes please don't leave me, I need you with me. I don't wanna do this alone” When you feel him lean back you finally open your eyes. He helps you get into the car before placing the car seat and your hospital bag in the back. For the whole ride, you focus on your breathing resting your hands on your stomach. Miguel encouragingly rubs his right hand over your thigh. Though you can't help but notice his right leg bouncing up and down. Dammit, you really hope this isn't too triggering for him.

Miguel checks you in at the hospital and waits until you're inside the room to race back outside to properly park the car. A few nurses walk into the room giving you the hospital clothes to change into and once you’re done they begin to check on the baby’s heartbeat to see if you have begun to dilate etc. They are asking you if this is your first child, how long have you been experiencing contractions when it started, and so on. Truthfully you have a hard time keeping up. Everything is happening so fast that you don’t even know what to focus on. There’s a band around your stomach that allows the baby's heartbeat to echo throughout the room.

“Is it just you or are you expecting someone else to be in here with you?” You turn your head to the nurse and you slowly nod your head. “Yeah he’s just parking the car but he’ll be here” She gives you a warm smile before heading back to work.

•°~°•

Miguel practically runs out of the car the second he gets it in a proper parking place. He wasn't expecting you to have the baby so shortly after he woke from the coma. He's just glad we woke up before it happened. He wouldn't know what he would've possibly done if he managed to miss it…he would've never forgiven himself for leaving you to deliver your baby on your own.

When he reaches back inside right as he's about to go into the room he is stopped by one of the nurses.

“We can't just let anyone in there are you related to the patient in any way?” He tries not to roll his eyes at the nurse before he opens his mouth to respond.

“Well not exactly but-”

The nurse begins to wave her hand in dismissal. “Then you can't go in there you have to follow protocol”

“I checked her in, what are you talking about? Just let me in” He tries to step around her but she just follows him. She has about 5 seconds to move before he loses his cool; he doesn't have time for this.

“Sir if you would just-”

“The mother of my child is in there dammit let me through” His voice was stern and strained as he tried not to raise it. The nurse immediately closed her mouth, nodding her head before stepping aside so he could pass. He runs his fingers through his hair before walking into the room. 

When he sees you there on the bed with your eyes closed and your hands resting on your stomach he gets an immediate sense of deja vu. He’s been in this situation before and the first time he was here he wondered what in the world was he doing. He was quite literally taking another man's place and he wasn’t prepared for it not one bit. But those years and those memories that he spent with his daughter he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Was it a risky thing to do? Yes.

Did he know at that point in time? No.

As he watches you he gets a sense of longing even though he’s been in this position before once again he’s taking another man's place….Is this a bad thing to think of right now? Maybe. But he can’t help but feel like an imposter again. One thing for certain is that he wants to be here and there’s nothing that can change his mind about that. 

He stands next to your bed and begins to gently stroke your hair it’s important that you remain calm. He knows how quickly things can change and he wants to make sure you and your baby make it out of this okay. When you finally look over at him you give him a weak smile and surprisingly he feels himself doing the same.

He takes his thumb to wipe away a stray tear before it has a chance to fall down your cheek. “How are you feeling right now?”

“I’m feeling okay. Contractions are contractions but….turns out I’m already 5 centimeters dilated so..”

“That's good you’re doing so great you hear me. Let me know if you need anything water, if you want to walk around let me know and we could do it” You nod eagerly at him before taking a deep breath. As time continues to pass by he remains by your side only leaving once to use the bathroom. To say he’s so proud of you would be an understatement he’s proud of you for being so calm he could only imagine the amount of pain you are going through.  

It’s around 1 am and he’s sitting on the couch eating the leftover food he got for you 5 hours ago and the food that you're also forcing him to eat. Since you hate that he’s not eating anything. The sound of the baby's heartbeat rings in his ear. Your contractions have gotten more frequent and a little more painful just based on the sounds that you’re making. He immediately looks up when the doctors come in. They begin to check on you and once your doctor whom he met all those weeks ago looks over at him and gives him a nod. He knows that is time.

•°~°•

“You're fully dilated Mama I could see her head I think it's time for you to push” You immediately begin to cry and you reach out a hand for Miguel right as he begins walking up to you.

You focus all of your energy on pushing. You block out everything only focusing on the warmth of Miguel’s hand in yours. The sweat on your forehead is causing your hair to stick to your forehead. You push and push until you rest your head back on the bed in defeat. You relish in the silence for a second before you quickly open your eyes and look at your doctor.

“D-Did I do it where is she?” You peek and they begin to wipe her down before they prepare for the skin-to-skin contact. She has a full set of hair and there's blood and fluids all over her. But still, you can’t hear her.

“Miguel what’s-”

And then you hear it.

The minute her skin touches yours she begins to cry. You feel a kiss on the side of your head and you go to kiss her head as well. And just like that, your daughter was brought into this world.

•°~°•

Hours have passed, you've been cleaned up and your daughter lays beside you swaddled up in a blanket in the little basket. Miguel has stepped out to get you something to eat..again. When Miguel finally comes back you notice that one of his hands is behind his back. You give him a tired smile and a confused look before speaking.

“Now what took you so long?” You watch as he puts down the food before handing you a bouquet of roses and mint chocolate ice cream.

“What’s all this?” He shrugs his shoulders and begins to take out the food for you. “I know you like flowers…and I just wanted to get you something” You take a sniff at the flowers before grabbing the food. For a minute you both stay in comfortable silence as you eat. But as you watch Miguel you notice that although his eyes are on his watch from time to time they dart over to your daughter. You can't imagine how this might feel for him. If you were unsure about where you guys stand then this should answer your question. He was in your delivery room watching you have a baby. He was with you from the moment you stepped foot in the hospital you had your baby at almost 3 am and he's been up with you. Not once did he doze off, not once did he complain about it. He was with you every step of the way. You really don't know what you would've done if he wasn't there and you'll be thanking him for the rest of your life.

You look over at him again and you catch him staring at your baby. When he realizes you caught him he quickly goes back to looking at his watch. Letting out a deep sigh you signal him over with the wave of your hand.

He stands on the left side of your bed immediately tucking some of your curls behind your ears. You say nothing as you look up at him with a smile.

“Do you want to hold her?” 

“No, I-” You cut him off.

“I saw you staring at her…it's okay you can if you want to” As you stared at him you could see the wheels turning in his head. Although you don't know too much about his past there's no doubt he's still hurting.

You place a gentle hand on his forearm giving him a squeeze of encouragement. “You won't hurt her go ahead Miguel” You watch as he takes a step forward but stops. You give him a nod and he slowly nods back before walking up slowly to her. 

“It's been so long since I—I don't wanna hurt her” His voice suddenly went so soft and gentle almost feeling like a small touch against your ears. You watch as he stops directly in front of the basket staring down at her. He goes to wipe his hands on his jeans before slowly reaching in. You practically hold your breath until he comes in contact with her. Ever so gently you watch as he slowly begins to cradle her. She looks so small in his hands honestly you think he could hold her with one hand if he could.

Miguel slowly begins to rock as he stares down at her. “She has your eyes” You let out a small laugh as you begin to fiddle with your fingers. You pause as you remember that you have your camera in your bag. Quickly you lean over to reach in your bag and you grab it taking the picture before he notices. When the flash goes off he looks at you shaking his head before turning his attention back onto her.

As you sit there and watch them you can’t help it as tears form in your eyes you rapidly blink them away before they can fall. He holds her longer than you expect he slowly continues to rock her as she stirs briefly. He holds her for a few more seconds before he goes to put her down. 

“Thank you for that”

You shake your head no. “You don’t have to thank me for anything”

•°~°•

Two days later you and Miguel are slowly making your way back into your apartment. Surprisingly when you left they worked on the elevator. Since you’ve been here the elevator has been broken all those months struggling to walk up the stairs and they finally….You watch silently as he begins to unlock your door with the car seat in the other hand and the hospital bag on his shoulder. He hasn’t let you carry anything. Truthfully you haven’t even lifted a finger apart from holding her. And honestly, you like the sight of him holding her and him just…uh being here? The sight of him catering to you once again makes you feel things…things that you shouldn’t feel at that. It makes you crave it, yearn for it even. Or maybe its just because it feels right? 

You like this picture of what your little family would look like. You, your daughter, and Miguel. Of course, you want her to have the perfect childhood whatever that may look like coming from just you and her but you wouldn't mind doing this with Miguel. You wouldn't mind him being a part of it.

Your mind shuts off the second he pushes open the door. He holds the door open for you and he puts the carseat down in the living room. As you stare at her you realize that she's awake right now. You begin to wash your hands and get ready to change your clothes and unload your hospital bag.

You walk over to the bag and begin to take things out. 

“Hey, do you mind watching her real quick as I—Actually it's fine you’ve done more than enough already. Asking you to stay feels like a crime I mean I want you to stay but if you don't want to I mean that's fine too I'm not going to force you to stay or anything-” You pause as you feel a hand on your shoulder. 

Miguel is towering over you as his right hand slowly grips onto yours pulling your hand slowly out of the bag. “Stop it. I'm not going anywhere but you need to sit and relax. You just had a baby….I was planning on staying the night anyways”

You turn to face him. “The night?” He nods. “Only if you want-” You cut him off.

“Yes,” He raises his eyebrows at your quick answer. “I want you to stay” He nods and then glances down at your hand that he's still holding. You swallow nervously as he takes a step closer leaning his head down till his breath fans over your ears. 

“Well if I'm going to stay you have to do as I say” Slowly you turn your head to face him and the minute you do you regret it. Your faces are now mere inches apart. “And what is that?” Your eyes dart down to his lips then back up to his eyes. He takes a deep breath closing his eyes before leaning back.

“Sit”

Before you even have the chance to respond you watch out the corner of your eyes a red web shooting out from his wrist and the sound of a chair scraping against the floor reaches your ear. He juts his head in the direction of the chair.

“But-”

“Sit” You slowly sit down and watch as he turns his attention to your hospital bag. You glance over at your daughter when you hear her stirring a smile emits on your face as you begin to take her out making sure she's wrapped up in Miguel's blanket before sitting back down with her. 

You watch as she begins to look over at Miguel. You know her vision isn't fully developed yet but you can't help but stare at the both of them. “And here is your mommy's best friend. When you get older I'll tell you about all of our adventures. And if he sticks around….then he could tell you too” You place a gentle kiss on her head and when you look up you catch Miguel staring. 

“What, did I say something?” He says nothing as he shakes his head.

•°~°•

It's now late at night you've washed up and your daughter is sleeping in her room. You've checked if the baby monitor works maybe 5 times you made sure there's nothing in her crib you made sure that she has a bottle ready if needy because you know how much newborns can wake up in the middle of the night. You've pumped your milk already and done all of the things that you need to do on her first night home.

To say that you're nervous would be an understatement. You are pulled out of your thoughts when you hear the doorbell ring. Miguel went across to his place so he can take a shower as well. As you open the door you look in confusion as he has a sheet and a pillow in his hand. 

“Don't tell me you plan on sleeping on the floor?” You step aside to let him in and he places his things on the couch.

“I'm sleeping on the couch” You close the door before turning to look at him in confusion.

“You could barely even fit, do you not remember when I used to patch you up on there? You had to sit with your legs stuck together so we could both fit on there. Just sleep on the bed with me” He stares at you as he folds his hands across his chest. Silence fills the air as you both stare at each other. Dammit did you overstep? You weren't trying to, you just know that he would be more comfortable on the bed than the couch. And you would be more comfortable….

Not that you want him to sleep with you or anything, just that you guys still haven't talked and it would be easier if y'all did that in the same room.

…….

Who are you trying to convince? Deep down inside you know you want Miguel next to you. But the question is does he want that too?

“Fine. Do you want to create a barrier or anything or-”

Your answer is immediate. “That won't be necessary” He looks you up and down before giving you a curt nod. Yup, this totally won't be awkward at all. You both walk towards your room but you stop at your daughters room peaking your head in making sure she's okay. You decide to leave the door all the way open instead of partially. You hesitantly walk inside her room just checking on the baby monitor just in case….

You walk out and you both step inside your room. Quickly you get into your bed trying to ignore the fact that Miguel will be spending the night….in your room…and in your bed. You immediately pull the covers all the way up under your chin. 

He climbs in next to you but he doesn't get under the covers and he doesn't turn in your direction he lies down facing the ceiling with his feet crossed and his hands interlocked across his abdomen. Yep, this is totally not going to be awkward…….You decide to close your eyes and try to let sleep take you but that's easier said than done when you have this man next to you. 

Some time has passed but unfortunately, sleep does not take you. At least the moonlight is shining through your window so you don’t have to be in complete darkness. Letting out a deep sigh you take a peek opening your eyes only to catch Miguel looking away.

“You were watching me sleep?”

“I was not”

“You were”

Miguel lets out a sigh of his own before speaking. “I was not. I simply heard you sighing and I looked over to see what was wrong” You narrow your eyes at him not quite sure if you believe him. “Well, you looking away immediately like you were caught doing something isn’t helping your case. You nervous or something big guy?” 

“Says the one who’s hiding under the covers”

You begin to prop yourself up on your elbow, your curls falling over your shoulders in the process. “Hey…you already know how you make me feel”

He then turns on his side to face you. “And what is that?” You swallow nervously as you become face-to-face with him. “Well, you make me nervous…but like in a good way you always have even before I knew about you know your secret identity”

He stares at you for a second before asking another question. “And that’s it..is that all how I make you feel?” You are taken aback by his sudden change of tone. It’s lower kind of sultry but it’s laced with uncertainty as if he were hesitant to even ask you. Is he asking you what you think he is…

You immediately begin to feel your nervousness increase so much to the point where you have to break eye contact with him.

You're playing with the ends of the sheet for a few seconds before you feel a hand cupping your chin and lifting your face till you're looking at him again.

“Look at me”

As you stare at him you realize that this may be the night when all of your doubts and concerns about you and Miguel’s relationship can either be washed away or confirmed. This is so intimate here you both are lying on your bed about to talk about your feelings for each other. Yes, you were waiting for this moment since he last left your apartment but were you really ready for it? No.

•°~°•

Miguel's eyes dart between yours as he tries to figure out what to say next. He wasn’t planning on doing this tonight at all. Truthfully he doesn’t know what came over him but honestly, it was getting to a point where he couldn’t hold back anymore he needed to know—he still needs to know. He has to know before he gets too attached and he doesn’t mean to you he means to your baby girl. He’s already long gone when it comes to you. That's one thing for sure but now you've brought your beautiful daughter into the world there’s only a matter of time before he doesn’t want to let go. There’s only a matter of time before he can’t. It’s been torture speaking to you and not knowing how you feel about him. Yes, you both said “I love you” but it could've just been in the spur of the moment. He meant it but did you?

Well, there’s only one way to find out.

He lowers his hand from your chin only to slide it across your face, the ends of his fingers resting in your hair.

“I love you and I've loved you for a long time. I loved you way before I even knew that I did and way before I was ready to admit it…and I want to be with” He pauses searching your eyes for any sign of what might be confusion or maybe even resistance. Miguel honestly wouldn't know how he would place distance between the two of you. He's gotten a small glimpse of what his life would be like with you, him and your daughter. When he finally held your baby girl in his arms it all became oh so real. 

He wants this life he really does but he wants it with you. All those times when he traveled damn near across the city to find the correct supermarket you were at. When he made sure you weren't going to the supermarket alone. Or in the beginning when he took it upon himself to watch over you every night you worked at the bar. Both during the days that you knew he was there and then the days that you didn't. Not to mention when you both pretended to be together at your yoga class. All these things made him realize just how much he wants to be the man in your life, your significant other, and the father to your child. 

Dammit finally closing off his thoughts he realized just how loud the silence is and how painful it's starting to become. Fuck he just ruined-

“And I love you too Miguel I've been waiting for you to say something and—and I even tried to say something but I never found the right time to do so. I’m so-”

He cuts you off because he knows exactly what you're going to say. “If anyone should be sorry it’s me I wanted to say something I tried to but I could’ve tried harder I could’ve stayed but I didn’t I left” He begins to run his thumb across your cheek deciding to take this opportunity he uses his hand to drag your face closer to his. “And do you want to be with me?” Miguel has to try and mask his nervousness before he ends up looking like a complete idiot.

“I do want to be with you…but you know it’s me and my daughter now so she’ll be a big part of my life and I know I’m probably reaching but she will remember you I know she will so if things ever go sour between us you can choose to walk out of my life but not out of hers…Okay?”

He nods his head immediately if he were you he would have a list of rules for him to follow when it comes to your daughter. But trust he meant it when he said he doesn’t think he could ever leave you alone. Not talking to you, not being near you, or even not checking in to see how things are going feels like a crime. It would be torture for sure.

“I swear I’ll do right by you both you have my word and we could go at whatever pace works for you I’m in no rush”  

“Yeah that would be great…since you know” He watches you slowly before leaning forward to rest a kiss on your forehead. He stares as the moonlight dances on your features. Your faces are now mere inches apart. Now isn’t the time for this….He doesn't even have time to react when he sees you leaning forward. He sits there stunned when you place a kiss on the bridge of his nose. 

He stares at you in amusement as you pull the sheets back under your chin.

“Do you think she'll be okay?”

“Okay with what sleeping?”

You nod your head. “Is she going to be okay all alone in her room? I mean I know the baby monitor is on but still what if she's crying while I'm asleep and I don't hear her?” You're worried he realizes and honestly, he sees himself in you especially when his daughter was born. He felt like a fish out of water when his daughter was a newborn. 

“Trust me you'll wake up but if it makes you feel better if she wakes up we can bring her crib in here”

“I would like that”

“Now get some rest it's late I'll wake you up if anything” He watches as you nod your head before moving closer to him. Miguel doesn't hesitate to wrap an arm around you pulling you in more to the point where you're practically hugging his chest.

“I'm really glad that you're here with me and her. I don't know what I'd do without you” He rests his chin on top of yours as he begins to play with your curls. 

“And I don't know what I'd do without you”

•°~°•

Taglist: @nxrdamp  @obsessedwithromance @kawaiibakadesign @dinuxia-bhm@mssbridgerton @timmytchalamalabingbong @brooklynscherry-z @youuuuuuuuuuu13 @botchedlove @shaldaar @serenity707 @miaasmf @v-justchilling @kittiowolf210 @thel0velykey190 @denzmallows @hyperfixationwhore @milkguzzlerr @thethundafromdownunda @megtheebimbo@beautifuleaglealpaca @promptly-mercy  @freehentai @narutofan249277 @autismsupermusicalassassin  @primrosesposts  @slipkknuttt @141sbarracksbunny @milkyardbetter @oharasfilipinawife  @amber-content @hysterical-reblogging  @barbaravicory @instanttimetravelpizza @velunis @yeletta @lililapuce @bvbdudette @sukunash0e @berry-potchy

@angelaut0matec @unabashedcroissanttreefan @wordacadabra @lotus-99 @homewreckingwreck @jadeloverxd @thisistotesnotspam-heart @uhnanix @codenameredkrystalmatrix @e1f-boi @s0urw00lf  @migueloharacumslut @sleepingghoule444 @wandasupremacy @epidemic-reclus3 @oharasfilipinawife 

@luluxx118 @mcmiracles @famouscattale @swatson06 @fruitychae @hcqwxrtss123 @kakimakiloh @dorck26 @aockskcw @giulscomix @kaleidoscopepov @s-sabbas @queenmimis @hearts4esmee @s4nac0smic @prettyboredwriter @hoe-bie @tfun29 @misswonderfrojustice @newmoon2007 @kodo1221 @r93339 @otternanamilolo @archerandthefoxx @midnights-song @may4ri @ugtufg @theyluvkghanya

@unabashedcroissanttreefan @jayfall93 @velyssaraptor  @beanieboy23 @a3naa @oscarissac2099 @kaiariii @kocho-catt @hikkarins @fioooweeooweeeoo @verynormalsstuff @lowlifepunksr @potatosa1ad @yeletta @staynctzen127 @heubstr @uncle-eggy @koko-1025 @heyitsmarimari @a060403 @laysmt @snxwfairry  

With Much Love,

Cece