Reid: I’ve never asked someone out. How do you even do it?

Morgan: Oh, what I do is, I look them up and down and I say, “Hey… how you doin’?”.

Garcia: *Scoffing* Oh, please.

Morgan: *To Garcia* Hey, how you doin’?

Garcia:

Garcia: *Giggles and blushes*

A very serious show.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x mafia!fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex

Summary: Bad girl, good guy.

A/N: Requested by @shadofireshinobi! Thank you. love!!

Not Edited

After watching:

Hear me out… Hear me out…

Knight! Miguel anyone? I'm feeling it right now at the moment… I just need some ideas and cook.

I feel inspired tonight…

I’m be horny on main for a second guys… (MDNI NSFW)

Do you remember when you asked Miguel to fix your watch?

I’m just saying, he definitely did what you asked but he made some additional changes that you won’t be aware of (because they’re only visible to him)

Might’ve linked your watch with his monitor so he can read your bio readings

Now Miguel’s watching the screen that displayed your blood pressure and heart rate increasing and your hormones going haywire. Meanwhile you’re getting your new man’s dick wet 🫣

Oh, to be DadBod!Miguel’s trophy wife n only worry abt lounging around, being pretty, spending his money, and devoting all my time to my art and style………………….

Wait what do you mean I’ll never get to kiss Miguel’s forehead or let his big hand hold mine or give him back rubs or play footsies w him or cook for him or be his gym partner or hug him from behind or play with his hair or listen to him talk abt genetics stuff that I don’t understand or feel his hand on my thigh while he’s driving or message his head after a hard day at work or curl up against him on my period or go grocery shopping w him or shower w him or bite his bottom lip when I kiss him or put my makeup on while he stares at me or listen to his morning voice or kiss him over the phone or cuddle w him on a cold day or say ‘te amo’ to him ????????????????????

𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

no warnings. just soft for this man

The room is still; nothing but the pitch black night and the sound of heavy snores surrounding your four walls.

You suddenly find yourself awake and with an uncomfortable twist of your head, your eyes squint at the bloodshot-red digits of your bedside alarm which reads 4:24 am.

The sun hasn’t come up yet.

But you’ll wait. Just like it always waits for you.

A stream of moonlight falls upon your bedroom floor, the curtains not fully shut. Normally this would result in the immediate urge to shut them properly. But right now you don’t feel that urge.

Probably because there’s a heavy weight across your waist which prevents you from moving. Miguel’s arm wrapped snugly around you, keeping your body close to his. You can feel his chest rise and fall, a soothing rhythm throughout the night.

With help from the sole source of light in the room, you can just about make an outline of Miguel’s face. His snores are slightly muffled by his pillow as he sleeps on his stomach. Physically, he’s close to you; your face almost touching his, his thigh practically smothering your right leg and the gentle caress of his fingertips on your waist.

Yet, you can sense the distance between the two of you. One of you is dreaming and the other isn’t.

Nine times out of ten, he’s always been the one who wakes before you. Many times before have you woken to an empty bed; Miguel’s excuse was that he was feeling restless, instead preferring to get started on breakfast while he waits for you to awake. It’s a rare sight to actually see him by your side in the mornings.

Which is partly why you don’t hesitate to grasp this opportunity with both hands, studying him like your favorite art piece at the local museum.

You begin to Imprint his features into your mind or at least as much as you can in the limited lighting: his chiseled jawline and high cheekbones stand out to you as well as the curve of his nose and the length of his lashes. You begin to study the way his dark brown locks fall across his forehead, unstyled and messy and fluffy – just the way you like it.

You notice how all the faint lines of stress seem to melt away as he succumbs to slumber, his brows relaxed and lips parted. The corners of your lips upturn at the thought of teasing him for his slight drooling or even better yet his sleep talking. It’s only a few incoherent mumbles here and there but you’ll still tease him nonetheless.

He’ll deny it of course, claiming you have no proof, a banter that you’ll begin later whilst you sit on the counter and watch him make breakfast for the two of you. You may not always be a morning person but it’s moments like those which motivate you to get up and out of bed the most.

Gently, you bring your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. Your touch is soft, careful not to disturb him from his sleep. You’re not sure how much he’s been getting recently. As your palm makes contact with his skin, you can feel your heart swell. A gooey, sticky sort of emotion sticking between the gaps of your ribcage – a large part of you thinks it’s love but it’s too early to tell.

How would he react, you think, if you did tell him that you loved him?

From afar or from the perspective of a stranger, Miguel’s personality seems to be stoic. He’s someone who takes his work and craft seriously, seeming to have no speciality for jokes or games.

At least that’s what it looks like on the outside.

For years he’s built up these walls which seemed to be impenetrable and unrelenting. To others it was a sign to keep their distance, a warning to stay away but to you it was a sign of someone who was desperate to be loved. To be loved and held by someone in this lifetime even if it was only temporary.

Like a shadow you slipped in through the cracks, transitioning from something which he initially thought would be temporary into something that seems worthwhile.

Just like the grip he has around your waist in this current moment you can tell that he’s scared you’ll disappear. Now that he’s found you he really doesn’t want to let you go.

You won’t tell him yet, you think. You won’t express your sudden realization of wanting to be around him all time, wanting to learn everything about him, wanting to be indulged in every single thought that he has, even the weird, stupid ones.

You want to continue your late night conversations that run until 4am but only feel like five minutes. You want to continue feeling his body relax in your arms each and every time you surprise him with a hug from behind. You want to feel like home for him as he does for you.

You want to tell him this and more but a small injection of anxiety seems to prevent the words from forming on your tongue. It’s a sworn secret kept between yourself and the moon.

And you think it’ll stay a secret for a little longer, just until you figure out a way to find out if he feels something similar, just until the sun comes up again.

tysm for reading!! reblogs are very much appreciated :)

Dick or Treat

Villain!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Wife!Reader

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT(P IN V, NIPPLE PLAY, Rough sex, hair pull), POSSESSIVENESS, YANDERE but it's nothing too crazy, mostly just in 1 statement. Word count: a little over 500?

A/N: I've been seeing Villain!Miguel lately, especially by @exhaslo , I can't take all the credit for this. I thought I'd come up with a little something. A little self indulgent, I'm sorry. 💀

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Imagine being married to Villain!Miguel. The hero would sacrifice you to save the world. But Miguel would sacrifice the world to save you. You didn't agree with everything he did, couldn't comprehend his reasons for or how he operated against your arch enemy, Spider-Man. 

But while he was chaotic, he wasn't evil. He was lawful and reasonable. He wielded a lot of power and calculated it carefully. He exercised restrain and precision. An artist in his own right even if his medium wasn't easily understood by many. 

But above all, he adored you, his devoted wife who kept him grounded. Who, in your eyes, gazed wide with galaxies as though you were the one who planted them there. Losing you would be the beginning of his end. And he reminded you of this fact every time your bodies came together in tender expressions of love behind the closed oak door of your bedroom.