Miguel O’hara X You - Blog Posts

Late Night Calls

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 23: Can't get to sleep

Summary: Miguel misses you.

A/N: I'm just gonna go stare out of the window.

Warnings: phone sex, lube, jacking off, reader has a job which takes them away from their home on conferences occasionally, Miguel sleeping nakied, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 941

Miguel shifts in bed, rolling over for the seventh time in two minutes. He just couldn’t settle, couldn’t find any position that was remotely comfortable. 

He grabs your pillow and buries his face into it, inhaling your scent that still lingers on the cotton. He hates when you’re away, hates it more than anything. 

He knows it’s selfish and impractical, you had an important job that you loved and it was only a few times a year that you went to a conference that he couldn’t attend with you. He’d never stop you, never voice his upset. But he misses you. Painfully. 

There’s a buzz buzz buzz of his comminator and he groans, huffing and rolling over until he realises it’s you calling. 

He answers quickly. “What’s wrong?” 

You chuckle, “Hello to you too.” 

“Baby, it’s the middle of the night-”

“Then why aren’t you asleep?” 

He pauses, “I…”

“Don’t lie.” He can hear the smile in your voice. 

“I’m having difficulty.” He mumbles, laying back down, his heart already calming at hearing you.

“I know.” “How?” 

“Lyla called me.” 

He swears and groans. 

“She said you weren’t sleeping.” 

“So she woke you up?” He says gruffly. 

“No, I have trouble sleeping without you too.” You say soothingly.

“That’s a fucking lie, you fall asleep the second you get into bed.” He scoffs.

“No,” you draw out the word teasingly, “that’s only when you’re in the bed with me.”

He mumbles something noncomitable. 

“What was that?” You laugh.

“Nothing, just grumpy noises.” 

You laugh harder and he smiles, his chest growing lighter at the sound. He shifts a little, stretching and rolls onto his back.

“I’m glad you called, miss you.” He mumbles.

“I miss you too.” 

“I miss you more.” 

You snort and he grins again. 

“I know why you can’t sleep,” he says after a moment.” 

“Oh, yeah? Why?” “I didn’t fuck your brains out beforehand.” 

You laugh harder.

“Hey,” he tries his best to interject some outrage into his voice, but it doesn't work. 

“I think that’s why you can't sleep.” You retort.

“Maybe.” You pause, you hadn’t expected him to just admit it. “Why don’t you?”

Miguel swallows thickly, “Why don’t I what?” 

“Come?” 

He wriggles a little, a shiver running down his spine. “Not the same if you’re not here.” 

“I am here.” 

He swallows thickly. 

“I think it’ll help you sleep.” You say softly. 

“Okay.” He breathes out the word, fragile and quiet on his tongue. “What… what should I do?” His voice small.

“Get the lube from the bedside table.” 

He nods, then adds a quick, “yeah,” as he rumages around in the top drawer and pulls it out. 

“Lay back down.” 

He follows your suggestions without a second thought, getting comfortable and pulling down the blankets.

“You naked?”

“Hmmm.” 

“Good boy.” 

He lets out a little groan at the sound of your voice. 

“Put your fingers on your chest.” You say softly, his mind going a little numb as he closes his eyes and places his fingers against his skin. 

“And just traiiiiill down,” you whisper. 

He groans as he strokes down his chest, picturing you above him in his mind’s eye. He shivers, his muscles jumping under the feather-light touch. 

“Tha’s it,” you say sweetly, “Now get your hand nice and wet.” 

He moans a little as he flicks open the bottle of lube and pours a hefty amount onto his palm. The sound of the cap opening is enough to make his cock twitch and harden quickly. That was definitely something to think about later. He rubs the lube in his hand, warming it slightly. “It’s wet.” He mutters.

“Want you to make a tight hole with your thumb and fingers, can you do that?” 

He nods, and then swallows, realising that you can’t see him. “Yeah, I can do that.” He moans.

“Good boy, now I want you to fuck your hand, nice and slow.” 

Miguel bites his lip, whining softly. “Okay.” He holds the base of his heavy cock, positioning it so that he can press the tight little hole he made against the tip. He shivers, his legs squirming. 

“How does it feel?”

“Good, but…” “But?” You smile.

“Made it too small.” He bites his lip with his sharp teeth. 

“You can widen it a little, but keep it as tight as possible, okay?” 

“Yes,” he mumbles breathlessly, “I will.” 

“Good boy Miguel, you drag it down your cock.” 

He groans loudly, thrusting up slowly in time with his hand. 

“Take your time, get all the way to the bottom.” 

He huffs, trying to stop his hips from bucking wildly. 

“And all the way up.”

Miguel groans loudly, the deep sound of his slick hand echoing. 

“You keep doing that, nice and slow.” You mutter. 

He whimpers ever so slightly, his breathing catching in his throat. 

After five more long, agonising pumps you whisper, “a little faster.” 

“Thank you,” he shivers, picking up the pace ever so slightly. 

Three more pumps, “Faster.”

“Fuck.” He misses you so fucking much, needs you there with him now to wrap your arms around him and play with his hair as you tease him. 

“Faster.” 

He whines again, high pitched, his balls tightening. “I’m gonna come.” 

“So soon?” You tease. 

“Yeah,” he whimpers, “miss you, want you, need you- oh!” He comes hard, shooting robs of warm cum all over his stomach as he cries out your name. 

He breathes hard as aftershocks roll through him. 

You giggle playfully. “Did you make a mess?” 

“Yes.” He pouts. “A big one.” 

You bite your lip. “Can I see?” 

“I’ll send you a picture.” 

Thank you for reading!

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warnings: dirty talk,smutty smut,miguel o'hara

just watched across the spiderverse nd now i'm feral so enjoy my lovlies <3 (also peep the titanic reference)

No thoughts just this image of slow, nasty sex with miguel o’hara, his hips rocking into yours at an agonizingly slow pace. He's got his head in your neck and his arms wrapped around the back of your head holding you as close as humanly possible to him “that’s it cariño, such a good girl” he groans in your ear, his heavy panting warming your neck as he ruts into you. You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper at the heavy feeling of pleasure permeating the room. “m-miguel” you manage to get out in between pants, your hands squeezing and clawing at his back leaving red lines in their wake “fuck” he hisses and you feel his fangs graze your neck sending a shiver down your spine, you gasp and arch up into his chest “shit miggy, so good” your words seem to slur as you toss your head back into the pillow as much as you can

as your hands slide down to his lower back to push him in further, miguel pulls away just enough to lean on his elbows “mírame mi amor” he purrs. You struggle to open your eyes but when you do you’re met with what you believe is the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen

miguel’s hair is stuck to the skin of his forehead, pieces sticking up in odd places from being yanked on, his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his mouth is slightly open with the most sinful grunts falling from his lips, and his body is covered in a delicious sheen of sweat. that coupled with the sight of him rocking into your body is enough to make you cum right then and there. 

Jesus he looks like a god

He fucks like one too 

Miguel’s eyes are searching your face, memorizing every gasp, every contortion of pleasure, he loves nights like this. Where all that can be heard is the sound of your little whimpers and gasps of his name, where all he can feel in his entire being is the wet, warm pull of his cock inside of you. He gives one particularly hard thrust and it jolts you slightly up the bed “jesus! fuck-mm” the breath feels like it’s being knocked out of you as you approach that feeling of complete euphoria that only miguel can give you, his hips change pace and suddenly every thrust is almost impossibly deeper than the last. His hand slides down your body until it hooks under your knee and pulls your leg around his waist, as your legs lock around his back a growl rips through his body 

“se siente demasiado bien cariño” he rushes out in a pleasure filled groan, his hand wraps around the back of your neck and pulls your head up to meet him in a desperate kiss. It’s wet and sloppy and feels so good as his hips continue to slam into yours, his pelvis catches your clit and you break the kiss, throwing your head back and moaning “ah-por favor miguel” he hangs his head to rest it against your shoulder, he lets out the most toe curling laugh “pobre bebé” he says in a mocking tone “puedes tómalo hmm? i know you can, such a good fucking girl for papi”

His words go straight to your core and you clench around his cock as he grunts “sí papi, make me cum” you whine “un poco más mamí, then you can cum all over this big cock yeah? I know you want it, tell me” miguel picks up his pace, the wet squelching sound filling the room “mierda, hear that? this pussy loves my thick cock, practically pullin’ me back in” tears start to roll down your eyes as you feel that burning fire in your stomach begin to flood all over your body “please miguel, m’so close i can’t-” you trail off as you get lost in the drag of miguel's cock, you can feel his thrusts getting rougher and his breathing quicker and you can tell that he’s close too 

“tell me you want it, baby” he breathes from above you, “fuck! I want it miguel please, wanna cum” your body feels like jello, all thought escaping your brain until there's nothing left but miguel. “cum” he orders, your pussy contracts around him while that band finally snaps, your legs shake and your nails dig into his sides as his hips continue to snap into yours, riding out your orgasm. he moans and speeds up his unforgiving pace “coño, buena chica,tómalo, tómalo” he captures your lips in his, his moans muffled as he spills into you, warmth spreading throughout your lower body

Miguel slips onto his forearms, his muscles taut and body absolutely covered in sweat. You roam your hands over his body, soothing him. “you’re trembling” you whispered, he offers you a lazy smile “i’ll be okay” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his broad chest expanding “so are you cariño” he says as he opens his eyes, you smile up at him. This beautiful greek sculpture of a man lying above you “yeah well that’s because i was fucked within an inch of my life so, whose fault is that” he respondes with a shake of his head and a small smile on his lips as he presses soft kiss on your cheek before he slowly slides off of you and heads to the bathroom

after a minute you can hear the water running, miguel appeared in your shared bedroom doorway “wanna take a bath with me mamí?” he holds out a hand for you to take, you beam at him before you start to make your way out of your bed only to realize something. “uh miguel?” “hmm?” 

“i can’t move my legs”

Translations:

cariño: sweetheart/dear

se siente demasiado bien: feels too good

por favor: please

pobre bebé: poor baby

puedes tomarlo: you can take it 

un poco más: just a little more

mierda: shit

coño: fuck 

buena chica: good girl 

tómalo: take it

Miguel x Time-traveler reader

Some weird idea about Dimension traveling Miguel and a time-traveling reader.

I'm not sure whether I should make the reader or time-traveler exist in the same dimension as Miguel or not.

If Time-traveler does exist in the same dimension as Miguel then I plan for them to feel like they doesn't belong there or just some person out of time who wishes to visit the 2000s or older. It doesn't help since in the year 2099, while space travel(the train to the moon) and technology is so advanced but I think the future would have animals, some places or landmarks, and parts of nature that are already gone.(Just a bunch of world building in general)

The reader probably grew up just seeing and reading all of those on the internet or books. Thus the reason for time-traveling.

In addition, Time-traveler is either trying to escape their dull life or really has nothing tying them down in 2099 so the desperation for time-traveling is stronger.

And they succeed.

Enter Miguel.

Miguel suddenly gets pop ups of an anomaly who disappears and reappears all of sudden on his radar and can't quite catch them for some reason. He thought it was some villain but he slowly starts to bump into this strange person who keeps seeing from where his radar appears that says an anomaly is.

Time-traveler could have this one signature style like a green ribbon that Miguel could always spot.

The more Miguel and Time-traveler interact, the more Miguel feels like he's okay with this anomaly on the loose...

Until Time-traveler starts messing up with world tragedy events like Time-traveler trying to save an endangered species that would likely be extinct in the year 2099 then Miguel starts trying to capture them in a more serious and aggressive manner.

Then they fight and quarrel.

Just two idiots taking up the mantel of saving everyone and everything in a way they see fit.

"Traveler."

"Okay, just hear me out-"

"You can't just decide what's the next big thing you are going to save so you can play martyr in the future."

"I'm not being a martyr! I'm just saving this animal from extinction so that the people in our timeline could see this majestic beast in person rather than in a book like I did."

"And what... Majestic beast is it this time, hmmm?"

Miguel could hear a pigeon coo as Time-traveler desperately tries to hide a pigeon inside their shoulder bag.

Miguel is not impressed.

Time-traveler would probably end up being an actual anomaly (ie the one that actually causes damage to everything like the dimension collapsing thing)

That's pretty much all I got. I got no writing skills to pull this off.

Yandere Miguel O’Hara Headcanons

a/n: there are two routes platonic and romantic, which will be bolded and colour-coded like this, please forgive my spanish i am breaking out my high school spanish classes.

tw: yandere themes, possessive, obsessive, and controlling behaviour, potential spoilers, suggestive themes (romantic route), captivity, canonical inaccuracies, implied neglect (platonic route)

•Becoming the hero Arachnid wasn’t something you ever planned on happening. You were just going about your regular, every day life when a radioactive spider bit you. The spider that bit you gave you amazing powers that you utilized to become the amazing, the one and only friendly neighbourhood Arachnid! Then, you were suddenly pulled into another dimension that was almost exactly like yours and discovered that you weren’t the only one of well you after all.

•You, alongside other spider-themed heroes, joined forces against Kingpin in order to return to your home dimensions. However, that wasn’t your last adventure with the multiverse. Your next encounter would occur a few months after your first misadventure. Having finished fighting the Green Goblin, you were ready to end the night there. Then, a portal similar to the one that brought you to Miles’ dimension opened up. Out came a tall, well-muscled Spider-Man and a Spider-Woman

•They introduced themselves as Miguel O’Hara and Jessica Drew and informed of the Spider society they’d formed. You were offered membership by them. Well, by Jessica. Miguel was staying silent. You don’t know why, but you felt as though he was watching you. He was, of course, he was right in front of you, but this felt eerie. Your senses were telling you something was wrong but Jessica was so nice and you really were excited and honoured to be given such an opportunity. So, you take it.

Romantic Route:

•Miguel stared at you intently. He’d been watching you for a while now, observing. You resemblance was uncanny— you looked exactly like his spouse. Not his spouse exactly, but the one the other had. You looked like the partner that Miguel had grown to love alongside his daughter. A variant of them. Although he was initially against you joining, it would be easier to watch you— look out for you if you joined the lobby.

•After your acceptance, Miguel tasked Jessica with guiding you around the lobby. He didn’t trust anyone else and he couldn’t bare to do it himself. He couldn’t handle himself around you. It wasn’t just your appearance that was uncanny, it was everything. You mannerisms, habits, likes, interests, everything. How Miguel yearned for you. Yearned to feel your touch, your kiss. Yearned for the happiness he once knew.

•But that would break the canon, wouldn’t it? The memories of his world, his family fading from existence because he broke the canon. He couldn’t let that happen again. So, he behaved coldly towards you. But as Miguel continued to watch you and interact with you, he started to doubt. You were a variant of his partner, but your dimension didn’t have a variant of Miguel O’Hara. Perhaps, he rationalized, this was canon. Your fates were meant to be intertwined. He needed you and you needed him. That was canon.

•Miguel strikes when you least expect. Spends weeks carefully planning. He stalks you, memorizes your routine to a point. He assigns you a mission, not overly-difficult but not easy. Something to tire you out. With your senses dulled and the weariness from the fight left you susceptible to his attack. Quickly, stealthily and by surprise, he subdued you. His sharp fangs biting into the tender skin of your neck, paralyzing you.

•When you come to, you find yourself in an unfamiliar room. Yet there are familiar objects lying around; trinkets and photos that had disappeared. Your spidey-senses were going off the rails and that’s when he came.

“Miguel?”

•He tells you you’re here for your safety and for the safety of your dimension. Swears you’re meant to be with him, that it’s canon. Warns you of the consequences if you break the canon. You stare at him, intaking his audacity. Then, you shriek at him. Call him out on his absolute bull. Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He ignores your screeching and leaves. Obviously, you’re still in shock. You’ll come around.

•Almost a month later, lo and behold, you still haven’t come around to being pliant with your captor. Miguel is a man of many things, but patience is not one. He is so very tired, having to deal with Lyla’s teasing and the other Spider’s bullshit. Is it too much to ask to come home to his loving spouse? Just like he used to.

•Apparently, it is. Seeing as you aren’t his spouse, but someone he locked up, you scream at him. Unholy screeches whenever you see him. Today, Miguel’s had enough. Large hands wrap around you and slam you against the headboard of the bed you’re chained too.

“Enough.” He hisses. “¡Mierda! I won’t hear it. ¿Me entienden? You stay here. If the safety of the multiverse won’t convince then maybe the safety of your aunt will.”

•The moment the vague threat passes over you freeze entirely. You’ve lost almost everyone, everyone but her. Carefully, you suck in air. Large tears brim at the edges of your eyes. as you look Miguel directly in the eyes. His eyes, dark and dangerous, bore back into yours.

“Please Miguel,” you whisper. “I’ll stay. I’m sorry. Don’t hurt her.”

•Miguel softens at your submission. However, he still doesn’t trust you. He pulls himself off you and stalks out, leaving you laying on the bed, dazed. From that day forewords, you become more compliant. You listen to Miguel and don’t fight him. Miguel knows that he can’t keep you locked away forever. People were asking questions. With your ‘good’ behaviour, you’ll be granted more privileges. More freedom, if that’s what you can call it. You’ll never truly be free, trapped under Miguel’s watchful eyes. But you’re able to go into the lobby again. To talk with people, even if you do so bearing Miguel’s marks. You know you can’t escape him, not when he could take away the little you had left, not when he would hunt you down through every universe. For now, you know you can’t escape Miguel’s grip.

Platonic Route:

•When Miguel saw you for the first time, he felt the world stop around him. It was as though there was nobody else but you and him. You, who was the only variant of his dead child that wasn’t truly his. He watched as you swung around, mocking villains and making clever quips. Miguel’s heart ached for you, for himself, for his dead daughter and child. As he watched you, memories of holding his child as they died because of him resurface. Once more, does Miguel feel the bitter sting of grief and loss.

•Oh, how Miguel desires to hold you, to cradle you close and never let go. But he can’t, he won’t. You’re not his child. You’re not the child he failed to protect. No, you’re a child he can protect. Thus, his decision to allow you to join the spider-society, if only to watch over you and protect you. Your family clearly isn’t doing a good job at it. Miguel spends more time than necessary looking after you. Not that he meant to, of course. You were just so vulnerable. You needed guidance. You may have been s superhero but you were also a child.

•Under Miguel’s guidance you thrive. He teaches you proper fighting techniques, improves your web-shooters and other tech you have and acts as the father figure you need. His teaching method is firm yet gentle. Miguel remains stern, however, everyone notices how soft he is with you. Life is good in the lobby. To be honest, sometimes you consider staying forever. Or more accurately, Miguel implies you should.

•Yes, he was originally not going to interfere. But it was you who made the decision to stay, so obviously that meant something. And Miguel wouldn’t lie, whenever you returned to your Earth to fulfill your duties as Arachnid, he could barely think he was so worried. Every villain encounter, every scrape and bruise is another chance to fail to protect his child. Miguel gets more desperate over time. Your time in the lobby is almost exclusively spent with him. Every mission is with him, every meal is with him, almost every moment is spent by Miguel’s side. And honestly? You’re starting to get s little sick of it.

•Not that you were complaining. You’re so grateful for the opportunities Miguel gave you, but he’s so overbearing. Maybe it’s normal, you rationalize, you’re family isn’t very close. Besides, you’ve seen Peter B. Parker with Mayday. Even Miguel isn’t that clingy. Your senses are blaring danger and to get away, but your yearning for love and affection suppress them. You continue to push down your instincts until you can’t. Until you decide to listen to your doubts— only to prove them wrong, of course. However, just your luck, your instincts are proven correct. You discover a goddamn tracker implanted in your arm.

•Finally, everything clicks. Everything Miguel does? Not normal! Just creepy, especially this. Thus, you decide to leave. You dig out your tracker and stitch the wound back up. You leave the tracker where you know Miguel will find it and leave, discarding your portal bracelet. You return to your Earth for the final time, intent on never leaving again.

•When Miguel returns to find your tracker and no trace of you, he goes ballistic. You left, he can’t protect you. You’ll get hurt, you’ll die. Miguel can’t risk losing you. He travels to your Earth in search of you. There, he tracks you down to find you losing badly against the Green Goblin. You’re clutch your ribs, bruised and bloody. The moment he sees you like this, Miguel enters a blazing fury. He attacks the Goblin viciously, pounding him until a sickening crunch is heard and the Goblin’s neck snaps. You collapse, from your injuries and the shock of witnessing Miguel kill the Goblin.

•Your chest seizes, hyperventilating. You can hear your heart beat racing as Miguel turns to you. He watches you panic and slowly paces towards you. You attempt to scoot away, but you can barely move. Miguel’s mask is off. You can see his eyes being filled with the same eerie softness as the day you met. Carefully, he leans down and large hands grasp onto you. You struggle as best you can, squirming despite the pain.

“¡Ay! Cariño.” He admonishes gently. “Be still, you’ll hurt yourself.”

•Regardless of his orders, you continue to squirm. Sighing, Miguel extended his fangs and bit down on your neck. Paralyzed, you fall limp in his arms. Carefully, he maneuvers you so to not hurt you. He cradles you to his chest as he inspects you over.

“We’ll get you checked out when we go to your new room. ¿Estàts bien?”

•Unable to do anything, you lay helpless in Miguel’s arms as he takes you to your new fancy prison cell— or room as he calls it. From there, you’ll be safe. Somewhere only Miguel knows, a place he can be certain he can protect you. Yes, you’ll stay locked away in your gilded cage, guarded by Miguel. Safe from the world, from every threat but him.

Across the Spider-Verse

Summary: When Gwen introduces you to her new friend from another dimension, you can't help but feel drawn to him. But as you get to know Miguel O'Hara, you realize that there's more to him than meets the eye.

Warnings: A bit of angst but mostly fluff

A/N: This is my first Miguel O'hara fanfiction, and this is sort of bad 😭 Also you are Gwen's friend in this.

------------------------------------------------------

You had always been fascinated by the idea of alternate universes, so when your friend Gwen told you that she had made a new friend from another dimension, you were beyond excited. You couldn't wait to meet him and learn more about his world.

When Gwen brought Miguel O'Hara to your apartment one evening, you were struck by how different he looked from the Spider-Man you were used to seeing. His suit was sleek and futuristic, and his eyes glowed behind the mask.

"[Name], meet Miguel," Gwen said, introducing you to him.

Miguel extended his hand, and you shook it eagerly. "Nice to meet you, [Name]. Gwen has told me a lot about you."

You blushed, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "Likewise. So, what's it like being from another dimension?"

Miguel chuckled, taking a seat on the couch. "It's definitely different. The technology is more advanced, and there are some pretty strange creatures out there. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

As the night went on, you found yourself drawn to Miguel's easy charm and intelligence. He was a natural storyteller, regaling you and Gwen with tales of his adventures in his own universe. You couldn't help but feel a sense of longing as you listened to him, wishing that you could experience his world for yourself.

As the night wore on, you and Miguel found yourselves alone in the kitchen, washing dishes. You could feel the tension between you, and you wondered if he felt it too.

"So, [Name], what do you think of me?" Miguel asked, his voice low.

You turned to face him, feeling your heart race. "What do you mean?"

Miguel smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I mean, do you like me?"

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you looked away. "I don't know. Maybe."

Miguel stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours. "I like you too, [Name]. There's something about you that draws me to you."

You felt a surge of excitement at his words, and you looked up at him. "Really?"

Miguel nodded, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Really. And I want to get to know you better, [Name]. Will you give me that chance?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of elation. "Yes, Miguel. I'd like that."

And with that, you and Miguel began a whirlwind romance that spanned across the spider-verse. You traveled to his world, where you saw sights that you never could have imagined. You fought alongside him against strange creatures and villains, feeling a sense of exhilaration that you had never felt before.

But as much as you enjoyed the adventure, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. There was something about Miguel that you couldn't quite put your finger on. He was secretive at times, and there were moments when you caught him staring off into the distance, lost in thought.

One night, as you and Miguel sat on a rooftop overlooking the city, you decided to confront him.

"Miguel, what's going on?" you asked, turning to face him. "You've been acting strange lately."

Miguel sighed, looking away. "It's nothing, [Name]. Just some things from my past that I'd rather forget."

You reached out to touch his hand, feeling a sense of empathy. "You don't have to keep it from me, Miguel. I'm here for you."

Miguel looked at you, his eyes softening. "Thank you, [Name]. That means a lot to me."

And with that, Miguel opened up to you about his past, his struggles, and his fears. You listened intently, feeling a sense of connection that you had never felt before. As he talked, you realized that there was more to him than just the Spider-Man persona. He was a complex, multi-dimensional person, and you couldn't help but fall even more in love with him.

As the night wore on, you and Miguel sat in comfortable silence, watching the city below. You felt a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that you had found someone who understood you in a way that no one else could.

"[Name], I have to tell you something," Miguel said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You turned to face him, feeling a sense of apprehension. "What is it?"

Miguel took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I love you, [Name]. More than anything in this world. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you'll have me."

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you looked at him, feeling a sense of overwhelming love. "Yes, Miguel. I love you too. I'll spend the rest of my life with you."

And with that, Miguel took you in his arms, kissing you with a passion that took your breath away. As you held each other, you knew that you had found something truly special - a love that transcended time, space, and the spider-verse.

📂 𝐑𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

↳ 📂 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Post-divorce, Exes-to-Lovers, Miguel being a bitch in the beginning but slowly softening up, mentions of flings.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In your complex web of your shared history, you and Miguel, your ex-husband and co-worker, struggle to communicate without clashing your professional and personal lives. However, an unexpected moment sparks a longing between the two of you. Despite the tension, a shared moment reveals unspoken desires and deep secrets.

You felt your mouth and throat becoming increasingly dry as each second passed and you couldn’t moisten it no matter how many times you swallowed. Your eyes have been burning since this morning from staring at the screen for so long but you had to get the reports done by the end of the day. You watched Miguel, your colleague and ex, with his sharp gaze fixated on the proposal titled ‘Enhanced Genetic Therapy for Tissue Regeneration’ you’ve just submitted to him, scrutinising every word written inside the file. His office and lab was located in the heart of Alchemax’s research facility, a place where genetic breakthroughs were made. But now the once-familiar corridors and labs became a bore to your awkward encounters and tense silence since your divorce. Despite the passing of time, working with Miguel had never grown any easier.

Time felt slower as you waited for him to finish reading. Minutes felt like hours and the silence that surrounded you was almost suffocating. Finally, just when you thought you weren't going to hold back any longer, he spoke up, voice controlled and assertive which cut through the stiffness in the room.

“You know this quality of work is inadequate from you.” He chided, dumping the file back in front of you dismissively. His words reverberated in your ribcage and made your skin crawl. If you weren’t in a professional setting right now, you would’ve thrown every curse word at him and telling him how you’ve worked tooth and nail all day on the reports only for him to have the audacity to just dismiss it like it was nothing. But instead you gulped, shoving the vulgar words down your throat and reached for the files on the desk. He still held his gaze as he waited for a response from you.

“Sorry…” you sighed, holding the files against your chest. “It'll be better next time.” Your tone had a hint of bitterness to it that you couldn’t hide from him. For a fleeting moment, you glimpsed something in his gaze - a flicker of what used to be. But it quickly disappeared and was replaced with his usual mask of professionalism. Miguel had always been assertive, even during your marriage. It was hard to tell if he was using that assertiveness as a reason to be firm with you now, or if he was still bitter about the divorce. With a brief nod, you turned and left the room. As you were reaching for the exit you caught a snarky remark from him, it was quiet but you still heard it perfectly.

“Yeah… sure it will.” He muttered before turning his back towards you, now completely blocking you off from his peripheral vision. The weight of the encounter still lingered as you made your way back to your own cubicle. To make matters worse, your work space was not too far from Miguel’s, so he had the perfect view of you and could watch you whenever he wanted. Even as you would have your back towards him, his piercing stare was still palpable, like blades on your bare skin. As you reached your workspace, you slumped down on your chair and set down the file on the desk. You turned on your computer monitor and opened up the documents again, your eyes stinging from the screen. As you focused on perfecting your papers, the familiar measured footsteps with confident stride drew closer towards your cubicle. You turned to see Miguel, leaning on the frame of your cubicle with two mugs in his hand.

“I got your coffee too.” He simply stated as he placed the mug on your desk.

“Huh? Oh…Thanks.” The gesture caught you off guard, especially when he was scolding you for your work just a few moments ago. Nevertheless you took the mug. You took a few sips from the hot beverage and felt the warmth down your throat. Drinking coffee on an empty stomach was probably not the best idea. You could feel the liquid settling in the lower pit of your stomach with the bitter taste on your tongue but that wasn’t your main concern. Your eyes were still sore and dry making you rub them repeatedly. It didn’t help that you were developing a headache too from the prolonged screen time. Miguel was still standing on the edge of your cubicle, watching as you tried to sooth your dry eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, the coldness in his tone wasn’t there this time.

“Fine-” you replied, your tone was abrupt as you turned back to your work again, hoping he’d get the hint. You weren’t in the mood to hear anymore criticism from him.

“You’re not fine…don’t lie to me.” He leaned on the doorway with his arms folded across his chest, his mug still in one of his hands. His eyes were now drawn to your monitor screen, reading over and analysing the open document.

“Maybe not. Why does it matter?” You mumbled, still not facing him as you talked and hoping he would leave you alone. You really didn’t want to deal with him in your work space especially with the throbbing headache you had. Even the fluorescent lighting felt like it was screaming at you.

“‘Why?’” He sighed and you knew he was pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance like he always did. “Because we work at the same place and see each other every day. Plus, what’s wrong with checking up on my colleagues?”

“I thought by now you would at least try to ignore my presence or pretend I’m not here.”

“Do you really think I could ignore you when you’re only a few cubicles away from me? C’mon now.”

“I could.” That was a damn lie. Everyday you could always feel his presence like a dark shadow of your history looming over you. The tangled mess of your past was impossible to escape. As much as you wanted to move on, it seemed that your past will forever haunt your professional lives.

“Do you know what your problem is?” You didn’t question him further but could hear him stepping fully inside you the cubicle now as he spoke. You knew he was going to answer his own question anyways. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, listening intently to your interaction and recognising the gravity of the situation. “You expect too much, especially from me.”

“Sorry?!” Your voice almost came out as a screech as you finally turned your chair to face him, you scrunch your face in both shock and disgust. It was ironic hearing that from him of all people. But if this was how he felt about you, you suspected that was the reason why he had ridiculously high expectations of you. His eyes fell on you again, amused by your sudden change of tone.

“You expect me to ignore you completely. You want me to forget about you and treat you with disdain and hatred.” He let out a dark chuckle and took a sip from his coffee before he spoke again. “That was never going to happen.” He looked back at the screen again but you held your gaze at him, now feeling a little perplexing. You never said anything about hatred - sure you ended your marriage on a bad note but there was no point hating each other. You rather treat each other as colleagues with no history between the two of you just to keep things civil.

“Not hatred, I never said anything about that. Just act like our marriage never happened.” You told him, making him chuckle again, his tone was starting to sound a little condescending and you were now realising how unreasonable your expectations were.

“I can’t just forget we were once married….we were together for five years.”

“Yeah and then we got a divorce after. Who’s fault was that?” The last sentence came out more hostile than you intended but you still hoped you got your message across.

“Mine.” He stated, his voice low and tinged with regret. It was a single syllable but it still shook the stillness in the air, like a boulder being dropped in a stagnant pond and sending ripples of emotions that melted away the tension in the room. “…mine for not being the man you deserved.” He continued.

“At least you’re self aware.” You said dismissively, hoping that was the end of the conversation. You didn’t want to revisit your broken marriage, especially with your headache throbbing more now.

“Mhm...doesn't make it hurt any less though.” He mumbled as he took another sip from his mug, hoping you didn’t hear.

“What was that?” He didn’t repeat himself but his silence and the falter in his expression behind the mug spoke volume.

Your eyes met his and for a moment, a rush of memories unraveled in your mind. You remembered the man you fell in love with, the one who captivated your heart and vowed to protect you till his last breath. But somewhere along the way of your marriage, his unwavering commitment to his job overshadowed your relationship. Your marriage was on its last legs before it crumbled. A pang of sadness washed over you as you wondered how things would’ve been different if he struck a better balance between his career and your relationship. That little bit of love you still harbored for him made you ache for what could have been.

“It does hurt sometimes, you know.” You admitted, averting your gaze away in shame.

“Hm?” He hummed inquisitively, tilting his head in curiosity at what you’ve just said before continuing. “It must be hard for you…”

There was a hint of regret that settled in your mind. It was minimal but just enough to make you wonder that, just maybe, you had been too hasty in making the final decision.

“Look, I know the main reason for our divorce was because I didn’t feel valued and you were more focused on work but…sometimes I feel like I was a little hard on you and I didn’t give you a chance to redeem yourself. Sorry that sounds pathetic…” As you spoke to admit your feeling, it felt like you were reopening a jaded door that was long closed.

“Do you want to hear something more pathetic?” Miguel asked, walking up to you and crouching down so he could look up at you, all while you remained seated on the chair. The change of position made your heart stutter and the air in the cubicle seemed to be amplified now. “The reason I was so focused on work was because I was scared to lose you. I thought if you saw who I truly was, you’d leave me. And focusing more on work, I thought it was a way of protecting myself from that.”

“Miggy…” your voice softened as you placed your hand on his shoulder, something you never thought you’d see yourself do again. You couldn’t help but notice the sudden change of his demeanor after you uttered that endearing nickname. For a moment, you saw the hint of nostalgia in his gaze that unlocked a hidden compartment in your shared history. “I married you for a reason. Before things were complicated between us, I was head over heels for you. I knew you meant well but I wish you told me about this earlier.” You said, making him sigh quietly and nodded in agreement.

“I’m sorry, you deserve better. The worst part is that I was so afraid to lose you yet I ended up losing you anyway because I was so focused on my damn work.” It was your turn to let out a somber sigh. “But…I do hope you’re doing well now. Are you?” He looked up at you, his brown eyes glistening with a hint of crimson under the lighting and waiting for your response.

“You could say that. But I do miss you before you were so engrossed in your work.” You chuckled as if that wasn’t obvious by now after you just admitted your deeper feelings.

“I miss us too. But I guessed you moved on…do you have anyone now?”

“Nothing but flings here and there.” You admitted sheepishly. You caught the slight twitch in Miguel’s jaw after hearing you say that. You could've sworn you saw specks of red in his iris overshadowed the warm brown hue. The sight sent a cold shiver up your spine. “They were just to get my mind off of things. But everytime I would end up missing your touch even more.” You added quickly. It wasn’t a lie. All those one-night stands were nothing other than stress relievers and it would never be as sensual and passionate as what you experienced with Miguel. You heard him chuckle in amusement.

“They couldn’t compare, huh?” He teased, a smirk tugged on his lips. “I’ve missed your touch too…when I think of you being with someone else, it hurts like hell.” There was pain wovened in his voice as he said that last sentence but you couldn’t blame him when you felt the same.

“Me too…I’d get a little jealous thinking that you’d treat another woman better, the way I desperately wanted to be treated.” You gulped. The image of Miguel making another woman happy made you chest clench even though you fully knew you shouldn’t feel like this when you were the one that initiated the divorce.

“Treat another woman better?” Miguel echoed in solemn. “You have no idea how much I regret treating you the way I did. It haunts me to this day.” From the look of his eyes, you knew he was being sincere and you could feel the raw emotions emanating from him. You remembered the moments you felt neglected and unappreciated but now after hearing Miguel’s confession, you couldn’t help but wonder if he had felt just as lost as you did.

“So… what do you want to do now?” You asked, the question hung in the air between the two of you. The query was loaded with possibilities that could redefine your future together.

“Now? Well…I really wish I knew but I know I don’t want to move on from this. I want to try again with you.” Miguel's gaze was now fixated on yours, desperately trying to read your face.

“How about we start with this.” You smiled, wheeling your chair a little closer towards him. “Are you free Friday night?” Miguel’s eyes blinked rapidly in surprise, clearly not expecting things to move this fast.

“Oh uhm yeah…wanna grab dinner maybe?” Your heart was pounding in your chest in euphoria and you couldn’t help the grin that grew on your lips.

“Yeah I’d love that.”

“Great, I’ll find us a place then and I’ll let you know the details.” Miguel beamed as he got up from his knees.

“Perfect. I can't wait.” You wheeled your chair back as you spoke.

“Me neither, hermosa...”

God, you missed that smile.

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{{Part 2}}