Miguel O'Hara x Reader [one-shots]

CONTROL [MS/MA]

SPIDER-MAN IS NOT my type. Never has been, never will be. But, for some odd reason, I cannot stop thinking about him.

God, of course, Mr. "Goody-Two-Shoes" had to be the source of all the icky feelings that have been swirling in my head and other places.

I only ever flirted with Miguel to mess with his head. Turns out I jinxed it, and now he's messing with my head.

"What are you thinking about?" I hear his voice come up from behind me.

I keep my cool, continuing to look out into the night sky as he sat down next to me at the edge of the building.

My feet dangled as I shrugged. "Why, you wondering if I'm thinking about you?"

I am thinking about him.

He shook his head, his head turning to me, "You're quieter today."

I shrugged once again, "And here I thought you would've liked it better that way."

He raised his finger, placing it on my jawline as he pushed slightly, forcing me to look at him.

Shivers ran down my spine. "I'm thinking, Migs. Lost in thought. That's all."

"The Y/N I know doesn't think," he joked, "She just goes out and does."

I laughed sarcastically, shoving him playfully. "We've got a real joker here, huh? No wonder they call you the least funny Spider-Man."

His eyebrows raised as he chuckled. He took me in his arms, tickling me. "Take that back."

"No!" I burst into a fit of laughter as I tried to take him off of me, "You're so not funny!"

"Then how come you're laughing right now, huh?" He laughed, continuing ruthlessly.

We rolled onto the floor as I continued to laugh and beg for him to stop, pretending as if his fingers (though tickling normally felt like torture) weren't heaven on my skin.

As he began to calm down, I panted as I chuckled. I looked up at him, his knee in between my legs as he hovered over me. We panted, staring at each other.

The face part of Miguel's suit came off, and I couldn't resist. I leaned up, using my elbows as support, and placed my lips on his. To my surprise, he didn't pull away.

He deepened it.

After a few seconds, of lingering touches, he pulled back softly. He looked in my eyes, his chest rising up and down softly.

"You got that out of your system?" he questioned, his eyes flickering down to my lips once again.

Pretending as if he didn't enjoy that. Huh.

"Not really," I played along, speaking breathlessly, "I think I need more."

His breath slightly hitched. He groaned lowly
before his lips came back on mine. He pulled me up, sitting me on his lap as he continued to kiss me hungrily.

My fingers tangled into his hair, a small, needy moan leaving my lips. He seemed to like that, because his fingers gripped my hair, and he forcefully pulled my head back. My lips parted as I panted, looking at him with need.

"What's changed?" He questioned, his pupils dark as he continued his tight grip on my hair.

"I don't know," I breathed, "One day you were Spider-Man, the annoying 'do-gooder' ally, and now your Miguel, the 'do-gooder' I can't get out of my head."

"'Can't get out of your head'," he chuckled, his smirk evident on his face, "Do me a favor, and be a good girl, hm?"

My heart thumped loudly in my chest as he praised me. His lips came back on mine again, but I couldn't let him take control of me. I'm stronger than that.