Angelic Beast

He places a kiss across your pussy before spreading your legs more and starts sucking on your clit. The sudden pleasure makes you moan loudly, putting your hand over your mouth and grinding your hips into him. Miguel releases it with a pop and drags his tongue up and down. Your shuddering from the feeling and your other hand reaches down to grab his hair. Miguel slowly starts to nudge his tongue into you while one of his free hands rub your swollen clit. Miguel flicks his tongue in a way that has you screaming, you remove your hand from your mouth and use both hands to push more into his mouth. Your babbling incoherent sentences and bucking your hips into him. Miguel can feel how close you are and quickly switches his tongue and fingers, his fingers move in ways that have your legs shaking, hitting your g-spot and making you feel so full by only two fingers. He switches between flicking and sucking on your sensitive clit, your fluttering around him and Miguel moans into your cunt. “Mm, god yes, Miguel!” You cry, moaning and panting, your legs wrap around his head, trapping his head. Miguel continues his pace and feels you come undone below him. Your whining and moaning about how good it feels as you cum allover Miguels fingers.

Miguel removes his fingers slowly, and places a kiss to your clit and watches as your cum drips down onto the bed below you. Your legs slowly relax and settle onto the bed, the sudden realization of what just happens hits you and you cover your face. “What? Embarrassed?” Miguel teases as he stands up in-front of you. You playfully and lightly kick his leg, “what di you think?” You mumble into his hands. Your both silent for a moment, “but, if your fine with it, can we keep going?” You ask, moving your hands down to look him in the eyes. He smirks at you and grabs your hips lifting you up all while putting himself on the bed.

The position has you in his lap while he’s laying on his back, he grabs the hem of his boxers and you lift your hips up off of him. He pulls them down enough so his dick can come out. You settle back down onto his lap and his cock stands in-front of you, almost reaching your belly button. You gasp at the size and Miguel laughs lowly, he places his hand on your hips. You gulp and put your hand around his cock, your thumb on the tip. You rub the precum around it and slowly begin twisting your hand around his dick, up and down. Miguel is lowly moaning at the feeling, it gets you more excited and you move more faster. Getting the precum all over it, making it almost glossy. You continue for a little longer before Miguel grabs your hand. “I can’t wait anymore,” he moans out, he’s looking at you almost like he’s begging you to ride him, to just put him inside of you.

You release your hand and lift your hips up more and pushing them forward, his tip lines up with your hole and you both whimper at the contact. You slowly, push down, the thickness and length cause a little panic. You hope that both of your cum from before would make this less painful. Miguel places his hands on your hips, “your doing so good, pretty girl.” Miguel praises. “Mm, I don’t think im even an inch in, Miguel” you whimper. “Hush, and let me be nice” Miguel responds, you giggle and lean your head down to his forehead. You both stare into each others eyes and Miguel kisses you. It’s short and sweet and makes your face go hot, you pull away feeling embarrassed again and continue lowering yourself down, pushing through the thickness and slight stinging pain. Miguels hands rub your hips, “feel so good already, baby.” Miguel keeps on praising you through it, making you wetter. Sooner or layer you finally bottom out, your panting and out of breathe, you both stay still for a minute. While you adjust to the new feeling, Miguel is trying not to buck into you. You feel so good around him, so wet and warm.

“Fuck, I don’t think I ever wanna get out of you.” He moans when you slowly push up. “You feel so good, Miguel, making me feel so full..” You moan out. Your hips make a even and slow pace, bouncing up and down on Miguel. Your head is thrown back and your clawing at Miguels chest and sides. Miguel is fixated on the slight bulge in your stomach, his gaze switches between the bulge and your pleasure written face. You look so pretty when you feel good, it drives him crazy. Your whimpering and moaning out and build the pace up. Moving your hips in a angle that makes you lose more of your mind, to lost into it your pace isn’t as steady, switching between bouncing and grinding. Miguel sits under you moaning and grunting, feeling so good from you. He’s obsessed by how your hips role onto his dick, how your moaning his name, whimpering about how he makes you feel so good. He feels almost proud of how his dick is making you feel so good, making you go dumb. Your hips suddenly start jerking more fast then before, your head is thrown back even more and the moans are louder than ever. He watches as your hips slowly stop and as you squirt all over his lower stomach and dick.

“Oh, fuck.” Miguel watches you captivated at your expressions. You lift your head up and lean over him panting. “You looked so pretty, cariño,” Miguel mumbles, grazing his knuckles against your cheek, “wish I could have taken a photo of it.” He teases, you both laugh put of breathe.

You lay down on Miguels chest, him still in you. You relax, but suddenly feel Miguels hands on your hips again. His hips buck up into you from below you, you gasp and lift your head up and stare at each other while moaning. “What? Forget that I have to cum too?” He teases before kissing you roughly. Its sloppy and drool drips down but you couldn’t care less when Miguel is pounding into you from below. You moan into the kiss, his thrusts reaching so deep into you. “Hah, fuck pretty girl, I’m gonna cum soon.” Miguel moans, you bury your head into his neck and let him pound into you like a doll. It feels so good, your already so close again. The overstimulation has you praying it stops soon but at the same time its the best feeling ever. Miguel moans loudly, it sounds so so pretty and makes you squeeze tight around him.

His hips keep pounding into you as he cum’s inside of you, filling you so full and making you feel so good. You cum again and scream into his neck. Pussy fluttering around him, his thrust become sloppy and slow until finally his hips lay down flat on the bed again. Your both panting and overstimulated. Miguel leads your face to his and he cradles your face as he kisses you slowly, he mutters something between the kiss. “Good job, pretty girl, that was so good.” Miguel says.

Your face grows warm again and you sit up and move out of him. He sits up after you and grabs you, carrying you to the bathroom bridal style while still giving you kisses on your cheeks, lips, and forehead. Showering you in praise while making sure he takes care of both of your bodies after what had happened.

He places a kiss across your pussy before spreading your legs more and starts sucking on your clit. The sudden pleasure makes you moan loudly, putting your hand over your mouth and grinding your hips into him. Miguel releases it with a pop and drags his tongue up and down. Your shuddering from the feeling and your other hand reaches down to grab his hair. Miguel slowly starts to nudge his tongue into you while one of his free hands rub your swollen clit. Miguel flicks his tongue in a way that has you screaming, you remove your hand from your mouth and use both hands to push more into his mouth. Your babbling incoherent sentences and bucking your hips into him. Miguel can feel how close you are and quickly switches his tongue and fingers, his fingers move in ways that have your legs shaking, hitting your g-spot and making you feel so full by only two fingers. He switches between flicking and sucking on your sensitive clit, your fluttering around him and Miguel moans into your cunt. “Mm, god yes, Miguel!” You cry, moaning and panting, your legs wrap around his head, trapping his head. Miguel continues his pace and feels you come undone below him. Your whining and moaning about how good it feels as you cum allover Miguels fingers.

Miguel removes his fingers slowly, and places a kiss to your clit and watches as your cum drips down onto the bed below you. Your legs slowly relax and settle onto the bed, the sudden realization of what just happens hits you and you cover your face. “What? Embarrassed?” Miguel teases as he stands up in-front of you. You playfully and lightly kick his leg, “what di you think?” You mumble into his hands. Your both silent for a moment, “but, if your fine with it, can we keep going?” You ask, moving your hands down to look him in the eyes. He smirks at you and grabs your hips lifting you up all while putting himself on the bed.

The position has you in his lap while he’s laying on his back, he grabs the hem of his boxers and you lift your hips up off of him. He pulls them down enough so his dick can come out. You settle back down onto his lap and his cock stands in-front of you, almost reaching your belly button. You gasp at the size and Miguel laughs lowly, he places his hand on your hips. You gulp and put your hand around his cock, your thumb on the tip. You rub the precum around it and slowly begin twisting your hand around his dick, up and down. Miguel is lowly moaning at the feeling, it gets you more excited and you move more faster. Getting the precum all over it, making it almost glossy. You continue for a little longer before Miguel grabs your hand. “I can’t wait anymore,” he moans out, he’s looking at you almost like he’s begging you to ride him, to just put him inside of you.

You release your hand and lift your hips up more and pushing them forward, his tip lines up with your hole and you both whimper at the contact. You slowly, push down, the thickness and length cause a little panic. You hope that both of your cum from before would make this less painful. Miguel places his hands on your hips, “your doing so good, pretty girl.” Miguel praises. “Mm, I don’t think im even an inch in, Miguel” you whimper. “Hush, and let me be nice” Miguel responds, you giggle and lean your head down to his forehead. You both stare into each others eyes and Miguel kisses you. It’s short and sweet and makes your face go hot, you pull away feeling embarrassed again and continue lowering yourself down, pushing through the thickness and slight stinging pain. Miguels hands rub your hips, “feel so good already, baby.” Miguel keeps on praising you through it, making you wetter. Sooner or layer you finally bottom out, your panting and out of breathe, you both stay still for a minute. While you adjust to the new feeling, Miguel is trying not to buck into you. You feel so good around him, so wet and warm.

“Fuck, I don’t think I ever wanna get out of you.” He moans when you slowly push up. “You feel so good, Miguel, making me feel so full..” You moan out. Your hips make a even and slow pace, bouncing up and down on Miguel. Your head is thrown back and your clawing at Miguels chest and sides. Miguel is fixated on the slight bulge in your stomach, his gaze switches between the bulge and your pleasure written face. You look so pretty when you feel good, it drives him crazy. Your whimpering and moaning out and build the pace up. Moving your hips in a angle that makes you lose more of your mind, to lost into it your pace isn’t as steady, switching between bouncing and grinding. Miguel sits under you moaning and grunting, feeling so good from you. He’s obsessed by how your hips role onto his dick, how your moaning his name, whimpering about how he makes you feel so good. He feels almost proud of how his dick is making you feel so good, making you go dumb. Your hips suddenly start jerking more fast then before, your head is thrown back even more and the moans are louder than ever. He watches as your hips slowly stop and as you squirt all over his lower stomach and dick.

“Oh, fuck.” Miguel watches you captivated at your expressions. You lift your head up and lean over him panting. “You looked so pretty, cariño,” Miguel mumbles, grazing his knuckles against your cheek, “wish I could have taken a photo of it.” He teases, you both laugh put of breathe.

You lay down on Miguels chest, him still in you. You relax, but suddenly feel Miguels hands on your hips again. His hips buck up into you from below you, you gasp and lift your head up and stare at each other while moaning. “What? Forget that I have to cum too?” He teases before kissing you roughly. Its sloppy and drool drips down but you couldn’t care less when Miguel is pounding into you from below. You moan into the kiss, his thrusts reaching so deep into you. “Hah, fuck pretty girl, I’m gonna cum soon.” Miguel moans, you bury your head into his neck and let him pound into you like a doll. It feels so good, your already so close again. The overstimulation has you praying it stops soon but at the same time its the best feeling ever. Miguel moans loudly, it sounds so so pretty and makes you squeeze tight around him.

His hips keep pounding into you as he cum’s inside of you, filling you so full and making you feel so good. You cum again and scream into his neck. Pussy fluttering around him, his thrust become sloppy and slow until finally his hips lay down flat on the bed again. Your both panting and overstimulated. Miguel leads your face to his and he cradles your face as he kisses you slowly, he mutters something between the kiss. “Good job, pretty girl, that was so good.” Miguel says.

Your face grows warm again and you sit up and move out of him. He sits up after you and grabs you, carrying you to the bathroom bridal style while still giving you kisses on your cheeks, lips, and forehead. Showering you in praise while making sure he takes care of both of your bodies after what had happened.

some fics contains nsfw (✶)

⟡. HOBIE BROWN—

open window : @fabled-fiction

cigarettes and strawberries : @moralesluvr

✶ kisses and forgiveness : @fusaes

anarchy in the spiderweb : @thesharktanksdriver

my baby! : @dizscreams

haunting : @gh0stsp1d3r

role model : @ronwestbreeze

(my) nuisance : @neo-nomatrix

wound too tight : @renoed

sleepover : @spidcrhunni

⟡. MIGUEL O'HARA—

it's so sweet, knowing that you love me : @fxllfaiiry

carbon copy : @devilishcupid

✶ love bites : @xkv

what's in between part 2 : @ghost-with-a-teacup

give me reasons we should be complete : @intoxicated-chan

el trato (the deal) : @messylustt

✶ easy on the eyes : @nezuscribe

show me where it hurts : @loganlermanstanaccount

⟡. MILES MORALES—

in every universe : @crackedpumpkin

in sickness in health : @fushigur0ll

coincidence : @prismuffin

lemme try : @carpecaelo

⟡. EARTH 42!MILES MORALES—

close my eyes : @knxv1lie

3 times miles tried to confess, + 1 time he did : @motherlvr

you & i : @moralesism

cool : @juneberrie

⟡. PAVITR PRABHAKAR—

first kiss : @gay-dorito-dust

back in his arms : @the-dumpster-fire-of-life

dance with you tonight : @foreverwiththeunknown

made for each other : @uramakimochi

Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider hub, it's expected for Miguel to be drowning with tasks and reports to analyze at any time of day. You accepted that fact when you started dating him on the down low.

You didn't care that he's busy since your time is also taken by fighting crimes and eventual missions. Plus, at the end of the day, the make up sex is godly.

But you find it hard to tolerate it when days and nights blurs without him leaving his office unless he needs to eat and use the bathroom.

Apparently, Jessica has held a few interventions for him with Peter B. and it failed every time. Miguel threw them out and threatened to shut Layla down if she didn't block their access to his office.

Passing by you in the lobby after another mission, Peter B. asked you with a stern look while Mayday babbled, mirroring the seriousness of her dad.

"Please do anything to get him to leave his office. I beg of you."

So after dinner where there's less activities and presence in the hub, you head straight to his office with barely a plan in mind. Clearly confident you'd make the man rest, even for fifteen minutes.

The hatch parts open and you are met by the image of him reading out a report in formal clothing and square glasses, sitting at the edge of the platform. He briefly looked up from the report before returning back to his task.

"Let me guess, Peter sent you here?"

"I heard they've already hosted a couple of interventions and rallies."

Miguel huffed, pitching the bridge of his nose. "Such a waste of time, they could have been in their home world watching over their cities."

"Come on, you know that they're just concerned about you."

"And you're here because you're also concerned?"

You laughed, webbing onto the ceiling and pulling yourself up to land beside him. “Are you really going to act this way, guapito?”

Miguel didn’t respond, focusing on reading on the report about the paper Doc Oc variant found in Earth 2199 written by the Victorian Spider-Man. You settled on sitting next to him in silence after retracting your suit back.

His subtle glances on your skin tight shorts didn't go unnoticed but you ignored it in favor of 

You took the time to observe the man whose bulky body is covered in a simple  dress shirt with three buttons down and black pants that complemented the thickness of his thighs. The square glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose only added more flavor to his attire.

He's criminally dashing.

After being away for days to catch an anomaly and crime fighting in your own world, you couldn't ignore the simmering desire bubbling in your abdomen.

How could you not be when your darling looks like a five star Michelin meal in front of you?

Your attention seemed to bother Miguel, who let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, what do you want?”

“I just want to spend time with you, is that so bad?”

Miguel deadpanned at you, seemingly disturbed by the thought before putting the reports down and turning to face you fully with his arms crossed. His eyes scanned your form up and down, letting his head fall back before groaning.

“Alright, I’ll bite. You got thirty minutes.”

You grinned. "That's all I need."

He raised an eyebrow at that but before he could question it, you captured his lips with yours. As if the kiss was a droplet on the water, the ripples caused by the taste of his lips awakened the lust simmering in the pit of your stomach.

His hands found your hips and pulled you close until you rediscovered your rightful seat on his thighs. Rough and calloused touch sneaked past your top and crawled up to the swell of your breast.

Miguel pulled away, removing his glasses—quite erotically—before diving back to lose himself in your lips.

"Is this what you plan on using your thirty minutes for?"

"You know it'll last longer than thirty, guapito."

"I doubt that."

His words sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, igniting your nerve endings alight.

"Are you really going to fuck me in your office, boss?"

"Don't 'boss' me, mi vida and you know I'd spread you open no matter the location."

His hands unclasped the front of your bras and spared no time in covering your flesh with his. The rough texture of his palm rubbing against your firm nipples got you moaning, hips twisting in his thighs desperate for stimulation.

Pulling away, Miguel's lips fell to your throat, his tongue roamed the skin above your heartbeat that rose when his razor sharp teeth grazed your flesh, threatening to pierce. With the soft suckles on your neck and the rough massage on your mounds, you were a moaning mess, tugging helplessly on his hair and grinding pathetically on him.

"You're so desperate for me, mi amor. Did you miss me that much?"

"Shut up and just touch me, please."

He groaned, deep. "You sound so adorable when you beg, baby."

He quickly made work of your shirt, tossing it along with your bra before moving to tugging your shorts off. Your hands busies itself with his dress pants, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against your own and to feel the curve of his girth once more.

It didn't take long before you're both naked and bare to anyone who dares enter his chambers. A shrill excitement electrifies your skin at the thought of being caught, the riskiness of being discovered and seen being devoured by the man you love oddly arouses you further.

Though you're sure with how possessive he is, Miguel has already shut the gates to anyone till he's done with you.

But it was an interesting thought to have while his three of his fingers savagely thrusts in and out of your hole, the other hand grounding your hips made it impossible to escape the onslaught of pleasure after pleasure striking your nerves down, you screamed, clawing at his broad back as he fingered you open.

Miguel grunts. "Scream louder for me, mi vida. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

His thumb found your clit and started drawing figures of eight on them, the knot in your abdomen twists tighter as you climb towards your orgasm. There's a wet squelch building up to bounce in the chamber and you flush red yet Miguel took it as a compliment, increasing his speed and curling three fingers upwards more.

Your legs shook violently from where they stood beside his wide thighs before the knot unfurled and you came with a shout, trembling pathetically in his hold. The sudden onslaught of serene euphoria makes you light-headed and you rest your forehead on his shoulder.

He pulled away, choosing to be merciful and let your shaking figure settle down before continuing.

"You didn't squirt? What a shame."

"F-fuck you."

"Don't lie, cariño." There's a grin in his voice as he pulls you flush to him. "I know you like it when I leave you writhing pathetically."

Not sparing any second, he stands up and you wrap your arms around his neck, already sensing his plan as he reaches down to line the tip of dick with your sopping heat. The sensation of his girth so near your entrance re-igniting the suffocating arousal and desire in your body.

"And god, do I miss seeing you cock-drunk and shaking, mi vida."

Plunging in deep, your mouth falls and you scream. The hilt of his girth grazing your uterus along with the burn of the stretch sparking every nerve endings alight. The familiar feeling of his cock reminding your hole who it belongs to made you feel dizzy, it was too much but it feels so good.

His thrusts are unforgiving, rattling your soul every time his hips collide with yours, leaving you breathless and moaning unintelligible words. His fangs digs into the crook of your neck as he pants and groans into your skin.

The sensation of your pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest sends electric shocks down your spine, adding onto your quick climb to your high.

You could barely make out the Spanish words he's whispering like a prayer, mind fogged with nothing but the pure nirvana he was handing to you. 

"Fuck, you feel so good for me. Always so sweet and tight for me, yeah?"

"Yes yes yes…!"

One of his hands grabbed hold of your jaw, forcing you to meet his dark red eyes. "You're not leaving this fucking room until I'm done with you, understand?"

You nod vigorously, wanting nothing but to please him enough to reward you with another orgasm. His lips found your neck once more, nibbling on your skin and teasingly dragging his fangs in his conquest to mark you, which shook you from your stupor, pushing his head away.

"No-not too much. It'll show."

Miguel's eyebrow raised, unfazed. "And?"

"T-they'll find out."

He scoffed. "I don't fucking care. Let them know who fuck you well and bare."

Angling his hips, he grazes a spot and you cry before the next plunge hits it, your legs began to shake around him with every thrust. Tears blurred your vision as pleasure invaded your very being, it didn't take long before you burst in his arms, your arousal painting his clenched stomach.

"That's it, cariño. Give it to me."

Ramping his speed, you howled. Pain started to mix with euphoria but you couldn't stop, it's not enough to satiate your famished soul. 

"F-fuck…! I-I don't think I can a-anymore."

You squealed at the sharp stinging pain left by his hand on your clit. "You will and I'll make sure of it."

Palming your bead more gently than his savage thrusts, he tightened the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter until it exploded and splattered once more unto his glistening abs, legs writhing helplessly in the air.

With the unbearable tightness of your velvet walls around his dick, Miguel soon followed. Hot liquid arousal painting your insides white with every pulse of his dick. You groaned at the familiar feeling of fullness before wincing at the pain of overstimulation.

Slapping his back, you whined. "I'm so fucking sore and you'll make me walk out by myself. How fucking cruel of you, guapito."

Miguel grumbled, catching his breath as he sat you both down on the floor.

You laughed low against his cock, leaving kisses down to his balls. His cock twitched at the attention it was being lavished in, "Don't you always? You know I'd ask if I wanted more." Luckily Miguel always leaves you fully happy after your love making that you didn't need to ask for much in the past few years.

A few experiments here and there sure, maybe a few backbreaking positions but nothing too crazy.

"You don't have to ask, I'm doing the asking. I want you to sit in my face, I want to taste you tonight, not on my fingers but straight from your sweet cunt." Your body pulsed hot from the promise of his skilled tongue. "You like that, come here sit on my face."

Not wanting to leave his cock without a parting gift so on your way up you planted kisses along the length, rubbing your spred folds along it and his abs on your way up.

Miguel, as much as he enjoyed it, pulled you along, "Told you, it's my turn to take care of you. You're so pretty and needy already." He wasted no time pushing his tonge through your folds up to your clit, his mouth wrapping around it immedietly. His hands grabbed your thighs to keep you still on top of him.

He made use of his tongue too, tongue pushing inside of your pusling hole, clenshing tight around his muscle, flicking it up along your gummy walls.

"Can I mark you? You marked my cock pretty well with your lips, I need to return the favor." You nodded vigorosly, hands smoothing his hair off his wet forehead so you could see the near feral look in his eyes as his fangs brushed against your pussy. "Thank you, so good for me, tasting so sweet on my lips."

His hum traveled to your clit, his warm breath teasing as his fangs pressed tiny bites so close to your folds that they brushed against one another. Your hips bucked against him subconciously, your heart racing in your chest as the sensation of Miguel's tongue brushing over your clit keeps building.

"Already? You can take a bit more can't you? For me?" He gave a long, slow lick from your hole to the top, "My good girl. Doing very well tonight." The praise made your head swim with pleasure.

“Shhh, baby.” Miguel cooed, pressing his hand over your mouth to quiet your whimpering moans. “You’re taking me so well, honey. Y’just have to be a little quieter.”

You could barely hear him, so caught up in the pleasure of having him deep inside you that his voice was a gentle murmur in the back of your mind. You were on the verge of, yet another, orgasm at the hands of Miguel, who was currently thrusting into you so hard you were sure you’d go flying off his desk if he didn’t have a firm grip on your hip.

“No one’s here, Miguel.” You whined, albeit a little quieter than before, and muffled from the hand he still pressed against your lips. “They all went home hours ago. We’re the only ones crazy enough to still be working this late.” 

Was this still considered working? You’d been going at it for at least an hour. 

“You don’t know that.” He emphasized his words with a harsh thrust, seducing a rather loud whine from your throat. “Stop that.”

As annoyed as he probably sounded, you knew he didn’t mean a word he was saying to you. How many times had he pushed you into this desk and begged to feel you clenching around him? How many times had you let him? The cycle that made up you and Miguel’s relationship was vicious and addicting -  a clash of skin on skin, teeth against teeth, body against body - if any of the other spider-people knew just how well Miguel knew your body, they’d raise even more hell about his favoritism of you.

Because of course it was obvious to any casual passer-by that Miguel and you were something. Friends? Miguel didn’t really have any, and neither did you. Lovers? You were almost positive that lovers communicated beyond ‘Can I take your pants off?’ and ‘Fuck me so hard I forget my name, please.” Co-workers? Well, if tearing each other’s clothes off every time you were alone counted, then sure, Miguel was your co-worker. 

“Miguel.” You whined, arching into his bare chest and moaning when your nipples rubbed against the hard muscles that made up his body. Your current position - naked and being fucked into Miguel’s desk - was arguably a dangerous one. If someone did happen to still be at HQ and came anywhere near Miguel’s workspace, there was no chance you’d be able to hide what you were doing. “Use your super-hearing. No one’s here.”

Miguel faltered for a few seconds, pausing his movements - because God knows he couldn’t focus on anything but your sweet pussy while he was moving inside you - so that he could focus on the noises around his office. You tried to control your breathing, allowing him to move through each floor until he was certain no one was around to hear your moans.

“There’s no one here.” He bobbed his head once, confirming what you’d been trying to tell him for the better part of an hour. That was all you were going to get from him. He’d never say outright that you were right, but the softened caress of his fingers over your jaw was enough to tell you he at least acknowledged your contribution. 

“So I can be loud again?” You questioned, spreading your legs wider so he could thrust into you as deep as possible. 

“No, needy girl.” He shook his head, the softness in his eyes now replaced with something carnal and lusty. He cupped your jaw with both hands and thrusted all the way into you, grunting when you involuntarily clenched around his thick length. 

“Why not?” You whined.

“Because when you’re moaning like that in my ear, cariño, I can feel myself losing control.” He grunted, gently rocking in and out of you. He kissed your shoulder before softly resting his forehead against it. “Don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

You blinked once, twice. This was uncharted waters for you and Miguel. He’d never vocalized these fears before, and you weren’t sure what that meant. 

“You won’t hurt me, Miguel.” You tentatively cradled his head against your body, running your fingers through his soft, black hair. “I trust you.”

He abruptly pulled away from you, meeting your gaze with what looked like both, confusion and hope in his eyes. You watched him watch you, unsure if you’d gone too far. Did co-workers/lovers/friends often have vulnerable conversations when tied together in the most intimate way possible?

“You trust me?” He was still softly thrusting in and out of you, and you wondered how long he’d been wanting to have this conversation. Had it been days? Weeks? 

“Of course.” You scoffed, as if what you were saying had been obvious, though clearly it had been weighing on Miguel’s mind for quite some time. “You can let go with me, Miguel. I’ll tell you if it’s too much, okay?”

He paused, mulling over your words for a moment before tentatively nodding. You smiled, and suddenly Miguel’s mouth was on yours, and you couldn’t remember which way was up or down because his mouth was downright sinful. A spark erupted in your chest, eliciting a groan from deep in your throat. It was every skyscraper you’d ever jumped off of, every leap of faith you’d taken while swinging through the city, every goosebump you’d ever felt, tingling throughout every nerve in your body.

Miguel, in all his silent glory, must’ve felt it too, because he let out the most delicious moan you’d ever heard in your life before deepening the kiss even further. His tongue swiped over yours, and in a swift, thoughtless motion, he tugged at your lower lip with his teeth before trailing down to your neck. His thrusts were relentless and deep, a wild juxtaposition to the gentleness of his mouth nibbling at your throat. And Jesus, you’d never considered biting to be something that turned you on, but the thought of Miguel sinking his sharp fangs into your skin as he fucked you was, arguably, the hottest and most fucked up thing you’d ever thought about in your life.

An involuntary moan echoed out of you at the thought, and you found yourself mumbling incoherently into his ear.

“Miguel, Miguel, Miguel, Miguel, Mig-”

“You sound so sweet when you’re moaning my name, baby.” 

He pressed a chaste kiss to your swollen lips before returning to your neck. He nibbled, licked, and sucked along the column of your throat, getting more aggressive the louder you moaned. The familiar heat that coiled in your core was so close to erupting that you started to talk before you realized what you were doing.

“Can you…” You trailed off, panting and a little embarrassed at the question you wanted to ask.

“Can I what, amor?” He gripped your hips, slamming into you with such force that you felt the words tumbling out of you.

“Can you bite me?”

A low groan slipped from his throat, so far gone in the pleasure that he barely hesitated before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The pain was almost immediately coated by such an immense warmth that your orgasm suddenly and violently ricocheted through your body. You shook against Miguel, shuttering with every pass of his tongue over the mark he’d left on you. 

Miguel wasn’t far behind you. You were unknowingly clenching around him so hard that he couldn’t stop the pleasure from overtaking him as well. He sunk his teeth into your throat, marking you harshly enough that you were sure it would leave a huge, purple bruise. He grunted, movements faltering, before thrusting into you deeply and coming.

Blood slowly trickled from the wounds on your neck and shoulder, and he eagerly licked at them while you tried to come down from what was arguably the highest you’d ever been. Every time his tongue passed over the sensitive marks, a spark of pleasure shot through you so violently that you eventually had to shove his mouth away from them.

“That was…insane.” You finally said, laughing at how blissed out Miguel looked. “But I liked it.”

“You’re going to be so bruised tomorrow.” He noted, mirroring your grin with a wide one of his own. 

And you suddenly realized how fucking handsome he was when he smiled. You knew, of course, that Miguel was objectively the hottest person you’d ever seen, but he’d never smiled at you that way before - vulnerable, walls down for once - and you were suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him again. 

“We should pro-”

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into another kiss. It was slow and sweet and even though he briefly tensed when your lips met his, he eventually eased into the kiss, allowing himself the sweet indulgence of kissing the pretty girl in front of him. When you finally pulled away from him, lips swollen and red and maddening, he let out a soft whimper in protest.

“It’s only midnight.” He mumbled, glancing at the clock before kissing you again.

“If you try to make me get back to work after this, I’m going to slap you, Miguel O’Hara.” You breathed.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I was going to say let’s call it a night.”

You suddenly became very aware of his length still buried in you. Surely, if he didn’t want this to continue, he would’ve pulled out earlier, right? He wouldn’t be kissing you like you were the only girl in the world, right? But Miguel had always been temperamental, sometimes hot, usually cold. Unease coiled in your gut as you tried to figure out where his head was at. This joining had certainly felt different than the other times you’d been with him, but did that really mean anything when it came to Miguel?

“My place or yours, Mami?”

Your heart thundered at the nickname, and all the doubt from moments before was replaced with thoughts of him, him, him. 

“Either one.” You shrugged, “We’ll have to stagger our arrival times tomorrow so no one suspects us. Especially with these.” You pointed to the bite marks on your shoulder and neck. 

“Or,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “we could say fuck it and show up together.”

You blinked up at him, wondering if he meant what you thought he meant.

“What about the bites? Don’t you think people might think they’re…weird?”

He shrugged again. “Let them. I don’t care. They make you feel good, so fuck everyone else, baby.”

“Is this ‘nice-Miguel’ going to stick around or is it just because you’re high on blood right now?” You teased.

He scowled, but you noticed the tiny tick in his jaw that indicated a hidden smile. “You saying I’m not nice, baby?”

“You’re a perpetually grumpy person, Miguel.”

“Not with you.” He grumbled.

“Especially with me.” You corrected, kissing the tip of his nose. “But I like that about you.”

“You do?” He perked up, grinning slightly. 

“Yes.” You nodded earnestly. “Of course I do.”

He nuzzled into your neck, resting his head on your unmarked shoulder, and mumbled, “I like you too.” 

Tag List:

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 

"I don't have time for this-" 

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 

"What happened?" He strains. 

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita ," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 

"Famous last words, bichita ." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?" 

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

_

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