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screamforyani · 4 days
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👀
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screamforyani · 5 months
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Hiiii, was wondering , what did the anon mean by drew starkey and remini? Who is that and what does that have to do with drew??
remini isn’t a person it’s an application that “fixes” photos that are low quality 😭 but it looks weird and borderline creepy! a lot of people use it to “refreshen” celebs looks if the pic is like super lq but i don’t like the look so i try to stay away from those
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screamforyani · 5 months
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Where are you seeing these drew starkey Remini pics 👀👀
pinterest 💔
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screamforyani · 5 months
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dark rafe is just regular rafe but i’ll add the tag anyway
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screamforyani · 5 months
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in the end, you’ll never escape
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warnings: noncon, implied stalking
wc. 1.7k
a/n’s: pls stop putting drew’s photos through remini hell i can’t live like this anymore guys. also hi ik i died over here 👀
miles upon miles away from kildare, you were contentedly far from home. months ago, the distance wouldn’t have been as tempting. the outer banks and the life you’d made there were the only things you’d ever known. but when your home began to feel less and less like a safe haven, you were more keen to be anywhere else.
it wasn’t easy leaving behind your friends, god knew you missed them every fucking minute of every day, but you knew it was a good call. no danger could reach you here. to you, and to everyone involved, it was for the better.
well, except to maybe one person.
you could hear a familiar jingle rupture the air even all the way upstairs. your brows furrowed. you weren’t expecting any guests, and you knew that your parents couldn’t have been either, because they wouldn’t be back for hours.
there was a knock. not at the door, but at your heart. after so many months outside of the outer banks, it might’ve been ridiculous to still feel uneasy about being home by yourself, but the fear never quite ceased; it quietened. but those whispers could be loud if they so pleased.
calm down, you thought to yourself. would rafe bother to knock at the door?
but you knew that he would. as belligerent as you knew him to be in nature, rafe would always play nice to begin with. if needed, he would escalate things, and he was not afraid of taking things up another degree to get what he wanted. 
you knew it, because you had dealt with it firsthand. you had been underneath him while rafe stood atop, wielding his golden shovel as he tossed dirt upon your grave. metaphorically speaking, at least. rafe hadn’t literally tried to bury you alive, but you wouldn’t put it past him. 
you couldn’t put anything past him.
your heart thudded as you took your sweet time to pass the stairs, but it felt like you could only breathe after you took another step. you peaked through the windows, and blew out a breath of relief when the guy standing out there wasn’t your worst nightmare.
you unlocked the front door, pulling it open. 
“delivery for…” the man said your name.
that was odd, considering you weren’t expecting a delivery either, but you cloaked your shock and accepted the box he handed you graciously, shutting the door behind yourself and locking it.
the second you were alone again, you raced to the kitchen to grab a knife. you needed to know what was in the box or it’d kill you. curiosity getting the better of you, you cut it open, pulling the gift out of the cardboard it had come to you in.
it was a sweater you’d been eyeing, an expensive one. sure, you were a kook by kildare standards, though in spite of all that you’d been through, your parents still hadn’t forgiven your past pogue-esque shenanigans and wanted you to work to be let off.
plus it wasn’t like you had a job. you guessed all your rambling combined with your suffering made them slacken, and your heart filled with warmth, happy to clear the tension between you and your parents even if only a little.
to be fair, you’d clearly been through… something, but they couldn’t piece it together, other than the fact that someone had been intimidating you, though that was only because it was glaringly obvious.
you couldn’t tell them. you wouldn’t even know how to start. and they wouldn’t understand, so you’d rather them be upset with you. sometimes it was just easier.
the doorbell rang again maybe an hour later, the sound startling you out of your own head. you paced downstairs, less hesitant than before. it was ridiculous to think that rafe would find you or be desperate enough to go after you when it would be easier to pick another girl on the island to break.
imagine your shock when you opened the front door and there he was. the devil himself.
every inch of you was frozen over, stiff. every muscle, every bone. “rafe?”
rafe chuckled. if you hadn’t known any better, you’d say he looked happy to see you, but there was always something darker. in your shock, you spluttered, “what are you doing here?”
“i can’t come visit my favorite girl?” rafe asked, pretending to be saddened, and oblivious.
your eyes flickered and you felt moisture instinctively gather at your lashes, though at least for now, you held it back. 
he looked a little different. his blue eyes still knew how to pierce the very heart of you, but his hair was significantly shorter. though in spite of your blurring vision (the side effect of tears or the lightheadedness, you couldn’t tell the difference), your whole body knew it was rafe and it paralyzed with total fear.
still, you tried to level your breathing. “you’re not supposed to be here.”
rafe didn’t seem to care, stepping closer and leaning into your ear to mutter, “we’ve done a lot of things we weren’t supposed to. haven’t we, baby?”
you recoiled, immediately drawing back. “if you don’t leave, i’ll tell my parents…”
“your parents?” rafe repeated, that familiar sly, shit-eating grin curled onto his lips. “your parents, they love me. what will they do? invite me over for dinner? fuck, baby, you really know how to strike fear into my heart.”
“i told them what you did!”
it was a lie, and you knew it. more importantly, rafe knew it. why would you bother? your parents failing to understand you aside, it would’ve only done more damage. your parents would forever loathe the camerons and you were perfectly content not being a blip on ward cameron’s radar. 
his son was already a handful.
rafe shook his head, pressing his lips together. “nah, no you didn’t. you wanna know how i know?”
your pulse quickened when he stepped closer again, already a foot inside of your house. this time, his lips brushed your ear, heightening the uneasy sensation that got louder with every thud of your breath. 
you were trapped in his arms, with nowhere to flee. something as simple as the slightest of touches between you and rafe sent a shiver down your spine. “because you’re too afraid. you’d rather keep the peace than let them in. now isn’t that right, babe?”
your eyes stung as you glanced up at him. you were always beneath him, never on top. “please, rafe. go home,” you begged.
rafe’s true anger finally started to peek through as he said none too kindly, “no. did you really think i was gonna just let you leave me? now we can really be together. no stupid pogues to get in our way.”
you cried out in shock when rafe got a hold of you, yanking you by the arm into your own house and shutting the door before dragging you upstairs. you had no idea how he knew where your bedroom was and you were too afraid to ask.
“rafe, stop,” you shouted. “rafe, you’re hurting me!”
rafe’s grip didn’t slacken until he pushed you into your room, and hissed, “you hurt me. you think i wanted to be on that island without you? you were the only thing that made shit feel worth it...”
you swallowed, lips trembling. 
“and then you just left. vanished. no goodbye, no nothing. you wanna know how that made me feel? like shit! like killing somebody,” rafe said, approaching you.
rafe had that look in his eye, that familiar, unpredictable glint he always got when he was up to no good. you tried to get away from him, tried to do anything to keep him at arm’s length, but he was quicker and reached for you again.
at this point, your heart was thumping in your ears and the tears were pouring down your face so hard, you could barely see. all you could hear was thunder. “rafe, please. i’m begging you. don’t do this.”
“don’t do what? don’t make you pay for what you did to me?” rafe asked, shoving you onto your bed. “nah. i’m gonna hurt you just like you hurt me.”
your eyes winced close as rafe started to rip the clothes from your body, but you didn’t fight back. it would only make it worse.
it hurt to breathe, inhale after exhale. your chest was taut with pain and terror and perhaps still shock, in disbelief that your measures to protect yourself had failed. but it was rafe. and whatever rafe wanted, he got. every fucking time without fail.
the irony was killing you. right now, you would’ve been a thousand times safer on the island than you were right now in a foreign place where you knew nobody and nobody knew you. though you knew that as long as rafe was breathing, you were never truly safe.
“that’s right, baby. don’t fight it,” rafe whispered, teasing his cock between your folds. the discomfort on your face was conspicuous, but you did nothing to make it stop. “i love that about you, you know. you don’t put up a fight. to you… it’s not worth it.”
rafe’s cock slammed into you, pushing in and out. he groaned, remembering everything he loved about your pussy. you gripped him, tight and vice-like, and the sounds that came from the very back of his throat were low and deep. 
“it’s always worth it to me, though. if you want something enough, you’ve gotta just take it. and all those people that don’t want you to have it? just watch them cry,” he added, not even looking at your face anymore. 
his eyes were between your legs, mesmerized as he tirelessly watched himself disappear inside of you again and again, as if he was under some kind of trance.
“cry me a fucking river,” rafe said, his other hand groping every part of your body it could touch. “you’ll get over it.”
your eyes narrowed, and you were overcome with the urge to smack him across the face, but you resisted. the last time you’d done it, in a situation way too similar to this one, he hadn’t hesitated to slap you back even harder. he was right; you didn’t think it was worth it.
to delay the inevitable was to prolong your own suffering. and in the end, you’d never escape.
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screamforyani · 5 months
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i miss u
hiiiiiii
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screamforyani · 9 months
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Are u going to do another part for still friends not lovers ?
I’m really busy so writing another part just isn’t a priority for me right now! very sorry to disappoint 😭 I hope to wrap it up in the near future
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screamforyani · 10 months
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family ties
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pairing ↠ miguel o’hara x (f) shapeshifter!reader
genre .. warnings ↠ angst, violence, recurring mentions of death and murder, shapeshifter!reader, non-spiderperson reader, enemies to lovers esque, parenting!au, neighbor!au
summary ↠ six years ago, your ex-fiancé and the father of your baby was killed in a fatal incident involving the head of alchemax. ever since then, you’ve devoted yourself to a life of crime to take care of your daughter. by day, you fall deeper in love with your neighbor, and by night, you come face-to-face with spider-man.
word count ↠ 14.5k
a/n ↠ most of this is set in mc’s universe so anything’s canon here. this is a repost!!!! feedback is appreciated!!!!!!
if anybody asked, you would tell them that doing a crime lord's bidding was nothing to write home about. it was assignment after assignment to keep a roof over your head and putting up with a nineteen-year-old (at least you think he's nineteen) with a reckless mouth. his tongue had gotten him into unimaginable trouble, that was for sure. not just him, but you. curse you for being benevolent enough to not let the poor kid die.
but on the other hand, it could sometimes be rewarding. sometimes.
the venue was sizeable and bustling with rich people. as expected, given the occasion. rod malone-fisk would be hosting an event with his daddy’s money, though most significantly, somewhere upstairs lodged their family’s priceless gemstone.
drawn to your partner’s chest, you could easily pass for a lovely rich couple eager to stuff yourselves full of expensive appetizers, which you had to subtly swat hobie’s hand to keep him from grabbing. he was sporting a tailored red suit to tone with your deep crimson gown, each of you donning masks to match (given that it was a masquerade). 
it was strangely foreign to see hobie outside of his typical punk fits. none of the boots and chains and leather jackets - which looked cool on him, not that you would ever admit it - though he still had his unshakable attitude.
your partner in crime scanned the menu with disdain. “have you seen the menu? what the hell is a beef bourguignon?”
“you butchered the shit out of that,” you told him none too politely, wincing at the horrid pronounciation. “and stop being a baby. i can make you something later if you want.”
hobie dramatically put his hand over his heart. “you know, you treat me like your own son.”
“somebody has to,” you mumbled under your breath.
hobie obviously heard that, and before he could make a comment that would more than likely blow your cover, marsai interrupted through your ear pieces, “um, guys?”
hobie, sobering, asked, “any updates, mar?”
“i just hacked the surveillance system. as expected, the door to the diamond room has tight security. now, i can get you a distraction in roughly two hours, but the rest of the weight is yours to pull.”
marsai was your guy in the chair and that was her way of saying that she could get you both in, but she couldn’t get you out. 
“got it,” you said. 
for half an hour, you and hobie pretended to give a damn about what rodney had to offer, other than his father’s precious gemstones. even through the mask you could tell hobie was bored half to death by the monologue and the second it was over he didn’t hesitate to drag you to the dance floor.
the plan was etched into your memory. including the initial, backup, and safety plan. you were just waiting for marsai to give you the go-ahead. biding your time, one would put it. then you’d bolt upstairs, steal the gem, and book it.
this boring event being a test of your patience was your only concern. it gave you too much time to fret, to worry about what meadow was doing and if she was alright. of course, she’s alright, you thought to yourself. you left her in the most trustworthy of hands. nobody else would do.
“marsai, you’re killing me. it’s been fifty-leven hours,” hobie groaned impatiently for only you and the woman in his earpiece to hear.
you snickered tiredly and added in agreement, “give me any more chances to drink vodka and i might not be able to walk in a straight line. let alone carry out the mask.”
“okay, okay. give me, like, five minutes.”
devon, your getaway driver, tapped into the line and said, “hurry up. i’ve been waiting outside for like an hour.”
“only an hour?” you asked curiously. to be honest, he had been so silent that you’d forgotten he was even there. 
“oh, yeah. i got hungry and went for a burger.”
hobie snarled, voice dripping with obvious envy, “lucky you.”
you laughed.
not even a minute later, the fire alarms began to cry, alerting everyone about a potential fire. you immediately made a beeline for the stairs in spite of the crowd of people flocking towards the exit. you wanted to throw your stilettos over the railing and possibly hit rodney square in the head.
hobie was right behind you. the diamond was in a room down the hall on the far right end of the corridor. it was the perfect place to corner a potential thief.
you looked suspicious running the opposite direction as everybody else, but fortunately for you and your partner, everyone was too scared for their life to question you. even if they noticed, they sure as hell wouldn’t stop and ask why. not with their lives in jeopardy. 
marsai announced in your ears, “most of the security have evacuated their posts, but there’s a couple coming upstairs. they’re not far behind you.”
“i’ll take care of it,” hobie said without leaving much room for argument. he spared you one little look before spinning on his heels.
you drew your gun from the slit in your long gown and continued to pace down the hall, never stopping no matter what. time was most valuable in predicaments like this and you had very little. you needed to be calculated. 
there was no security guarding the door when you arrived. piece of cake, you thought to yourself smugly. and jotted down a mental note to definitely reward yourself with a sickly sweet desert after tonight. 
barging inside, you instantly spotted the gem and wasted not another second to swipe a tiny device from your thigh holster, hurling it at the glass case. it ruptured on impact, shattering on itself. you swiped the jewel and turned.
another voice spooked you and abruptly said, “thank you. i’ll take that.”
the stranger didn’t even let you get a word in before he was snapping the priceless gem out of your clutches, and in a blink, he was running for the door. it only took one glance for you to recognize your unexpected company as the masked vigilante known as spider-man. 
you hated that guy. kind of. on the one hand, you weren’t against him making new york city a safer place for your daughter, but on the other hand, all he did was get in the way of your work and you needed to be able to provide for her.
you aimed your weapon, but spider-man was quick to smoothly slip to the side, quite literally dodging a bullet without even turning around once. “nice shot,” he taunted, pursuing his escape unscathed.
hot on his heels, your stilettos clicked loudly against the cool marble floor. spider-man couldn’t even made it out the door before you were on him, sending him off of his feet. he swore under his breath but never dropped the gem, and you feared he would destroy it with with his grudging clasp. before you could move again, he stole your gun no longer strapped to your thigh, grabbing it with his webs and tossing it across the room.
“how clever,” you snarled, snatching the gem and running the opposite direction.
the masked self-proclaimed superhero charged after you with featherlight, nimble steps that you matched with a graceful agility. you didn’t bother to try to take back your weapon, because you weren’t aiming to wound or maim and there was no need for a body count. 
the two of you danced around the broken case, careful not to slip in glass shards. it reminded you of children playing tag. with you holding the weapon now, you were undoubtedly it.
spider-man pranced around the glass, walking in a circle. he could have easily taken you down and he knew it. he was bigger than you, quicker than you, and stronger than you, but he didn’t particularly want to use his strength on you.
“i don’t want to hurt you,” admitted spider-man in a way that almost came off as a warning. he was stepping around you in the way someone would walk around a sleeping dragon.
you scoffed, “oh, don’t worry, baby. you won’t.”
the feeling was not mutual. you promptly grabbed some glass shards in your black gloves - never taking your eyes off of him - and chucked them his direction. the stranger missed them narrowly, dancing out of their way. you had to give credit where credit was due. this human spider was better than any opponent before him.
in the second it took him to skate out of harm’s way, spider-man inched closer to you, enough for the diamond to be at arm’s length of his body. you slid, the jewel taking to the air. he smoothly caught you and the diamond in his arms all in the same breath, and your shock granted him a few seconds leeway for escape.
for a second, you were too stunned to take action. then, you noticed he was getting away and it wore off as quickly as it came, with you right behind him. 
you took off one of your stilettos and chucked it towards him with superhuman speed like a weapon, and he swore again, whirling around quickly enough to catch the other one before it could strike him too. “woman, you’re insane,” he hissed, eyeing you darkly as you approached him.
“i’ve heard that one before,” you teased, eyes still on the prize. “do better.”
you reached for his mask and he quickly caught your hand before you could reveal his identity, though with your spare hand you snatched the jewel while he was off guard and made a beeline for the exit, your bare feet slapping against the floor. jesus fucking christ, where the hell was hobie when you needed him?
spider-man flung the broken glass case in front of the door with his webs in a final attempt to prevent you from fleeing, immediately giving chase. it was too bad that you had already suddenly shifted towards the window, making him stop short of the broken shards, and stood at the edge of the tall window with the gem pressed to your bosom.
“this has truly been fun, spidey,” you told him, just as you fell out of the window. 
and he would have caught you. he would have stopped going easy on you, would have wrapped this tango up if it weren’t for the fact that you were nowhere to be found. he peered out of the window and saw nobody falling to their death. he crawled up the building and swung from place to place, but it was like you had disappeared in the shadows.
literally.
crawling undetected across the gloomy crevices of the building before taking to the air, you made it to the other side of the building and to the getaway car.
hobie was sitting in the backseat and was baffled when he heard the gem drop just before he saw a jet-black raven that he recognized as your go-to bird identity. “oh, hey,” he said coolly. “how’d it go?”
you transformed back into your original form and hobie glanced away. it was never a process he wanted to look at. not some perfectly animated transition like in the movies. you ignored him and said, “devon, drive.”
“it’s about time,” devon said, speeding off.
“my bad. i had a surprise guest,” you droned, massaging the balls of your feet while hobie placed the gem in the front seat and even wrapped the seatbelt around what would’ve been its chest if it had one. which wasn’t the most brilliant idea, given that rodney was definitely going to report it missing and though the windows were tinted, the roof of the car was down.
devon pushed, “as in?”
“as in spider-man,” you replied coolly. jesus, your feet were killing you. marsai should not have let you walk around in stilettos for hours.  no matter the reward of your sacrifice.
hobie was none too pleased by the intervention. “how in the hell did he know we were going to be there?”
you could see devon’s baffled face from the rear-view mirror. “that’s something to have marsai follow up on.”
you shook your head, bemused and engrossed in thought. your first encounter with spider-man. how exciting. “he caught me when i was about to fall even after i threw glass at him.”
“you were about to fall?” hobie asked, amused. “what is it you always say? never get caught slipping? you quite literally-”
“never get caught slipping. i know. thanks,” you finished, finally clicking your seatbelt into place. 
“aw, shit. she’s in love with spider-man,” devon quipped, earning a sharp glare from the backseat.
hobie laughed. obnoxiously. 
“can you guys shut the hell up already?” you hissed. “i’m just surprised. he treated me better than the two of you even as i came for his life.”
“alright. don’t call us when he throws you in a prison cell,” hobie said blankly.
you rolled your eyes.
the drive was longer than usual because devon wanted to ensure that there were no cops tailing him, aimlessly coasting around town for a while until ultimately taking a very elusive route to your house where he eventually dropped off you and hobie, who didn’t hesitate to remind you about that dinner offer.
when you opened the door to your house, you barely even stepped inside before meadow forwent her coloring book and ran over to you, shouting, “mommy!”
“hey, baby,” you said, watching her short arms wrap around your leg. “how was your day?”
“it was fun. tt took me to the park and she said we can go again tomorrow!” meadow exclaimed giddily, literal stars in her eyes. nothing made you more soft than the sight of your baby girl at the end of a long day.
“that sounds like loads of fun,” you told meadow, gently patting her back.
meadow went to hobie next, calling out for him, and he picked your six-year-old daughter up in his arms. “‘ey up, cheeto. did you make any friends at the park?”
cheeto was the nickname hobie had given your daughter four years back after he saw her eating a bag of cheetos. for whatever reason, it just stuck. everyone called her that, even you every now and then.
“i did,” meadow said, noticably less enthusiastic than before. and it took a lot to get your daughter down in the dumps. she was just so full of life and you wanted her to hold onto that innocence for as long as she could. “but there was this bully. he wouldn’t let me get on the swings.”
that got hobie’s attention, as well as yours. he sat her back down, flexing his muscles and making punching motions. “what? do you want me to handle him for ‘ya? look, i learned some new moves.”
meadow was her giggly self again, watching hobie box the air. 
you, on the other hand, were not happy. you crouched to be eye-level with her and said gently, “if there’s somebody bothering you, cheeto, i can always take to their parents.”
“that won’t be necessary,” came another voice, and you quickly glanced up to see your best friend of many years, lani lee. she was also the one and only person you trusted to babysit your daughter, although you would consider letting hobie watch her for forty-five minutes maximum. “i already talked to the little boy and his parents. he won’t be bothering her any more. i made sure of it.”
“what would i do without you,” you said, standing up to pull your best friend in for a hug while hobie entertained meadow. 
“die of paranoia, probably.”
you rolled your eyes, though she wasn’t wrong. it eased your nerves a lot bit to know your daughter was under the watchful eye of someone like a sister to you. you pulled back, noticing she had her purse in hand, and asked, “you aren’t staying for dinner?”
“oh, no. i can’t. i have a… date,” lani said, the fleeting pause and her constant awkward glimpses between you and meadow making her implications obvious. 
hobie, who also got the memo, snickered. “a date, you say?” 
“stay out of grown folk’s business,” you and lani said simultaneously. 
“mind you, i’m nineteen! i can drink!”
“in london, yes. in brooklyn, no,” you said under your breath, almost hoping he didn’t hear you. you weren’t inclined to have this conversation for the umpteenth time.
“well, i’m gonna head out. you kids have fun,” lani said, slipping out of the house before hobie could make a quip. 
instead, hobie turned to you and asked, “yo, mind if i crash here for the night?”
“you know you can stay whenever you want, hobie,” you told him, heading to the kitchen to prepare dinner. 
“sweet. i’m going to go settle down and i’ll watch cheeto while you cook.”
that’s sweet of him, you thought. you acknowledged him with a nod and immediately washed your hands.
after steaming up the kitchen and donning a more casual outfit you called the youngins out for dinner. hobie, the gentleman he was, helped you set the table and the three of you ate dinner together as if you were one big family. you didn’t mind it. usually, meadow was fed and asleep by the time you got back from work, so you warmed up whatever lani had cooked and ate alone. if lani had time, she’d stay to chitchat, but what was even more rare was you getting home early enough to eat dinner with your daughter.
you made sure lani had whatever resources she needed to take care of meadow and herself. she insisted that you didn’t need to compensate her, but you didn’t care. you couldn’t thank her enough for stepping in when you couldn’t be there like you wanted.
meadow got sleepy after dinner, like she usually did after eating, and you tucked her in, whispering, “goodnight. mommy loves you very much.”
“goodnight. i love you, too. very much,” meadow said sleepily, snuggling her favorite stuffed animal. it was a dragon named cheeto junior, much to your amusement.
you giggled, pressing a kiss to her forehead and turning on her nightlight before shutting the door behind yourself.
then, you grabbed a plate you’d set aside and wrapped up and you even made a total of twenty steps to the front door before hobie appeared out of nowhere - you could of swore he was washing the dishes a minute ago - and asked nosily, “is that for the miguel guy you’re crushing on?”
“jesus fucking christ, hobie. i’m not crushing on him,” you said, maybe a little in denial. sitting at the table eating dinner with someone other than your shadow made your chest hurt, which factored into the denial. “he just helps out a lot. mows the yard and… stuff.”
“and stuff,” hobie repeated with air quotes, because apparently you needed an echo, as if you weren’t loud enough. “that’s rubbish.”
you groaned, “look, i’m just repaying the favor. not that that’s any of your business. go to sleep, kid.”
hobie threw up his hands, mumbling, “fine, fine. but only because i’m knackered.”
you slipped out the front door, somewhat antsy, not that you would ever admit it. you just got all jittery around miguel for whatever reason. maybe it was because he was attractive, which you had no problem admitting. very attractive.
you remembered the first time meeting him. 
it was a saturday and you were cleaning the kitchen, scrubbing down every surface and wiping every dish clear of stains and clearing out the fridge. you’d only taken your eyes off your daughter for a second before you looked back up and noticed her absence. 
your heart immediately sank with panic. “meadow?” you called out. 
no answer.
you had to have flipped over the entire living room and been on your way to her bedroom before you realized the front door was more than a little cracked just as you passed by the foyer, impenetrable fear spreading through your body like wildfire.
you immediately stepped outside of your house, frantically calling out, “meadow!”
“is this who you’re looking for?”
you spun around eighty degrees, spotting meadow walking through your yard with your neighbor. you sighed out in relief, rushing over to swoop your baby girl in your arms. “sweetheart, i’m so glad you’re okay,” you told her. then, you your tone turned chastising. “don’t you ever leave this house again without me or tt, you hear me?”
meadow looked confused for a split-second, but seeing your brows furrowed with worry and your features tensed with panic, she seemed to have understood that she had messed up somewhere along the line. “‘m sorry, mama.”
you sat her down, noticing the dollar bill in her hand. “now where on earth did you get that?”
“i asked mr. o'hara if i could have a lollipop but he said it’s very bad to take food from strangers, so he gave me a dollar.”
that was when your vision panned to your next-door neighbor, miguel o’hara, who was standing there with a small smile on his face. your eyes were watering and you tried not to let them fall, repeatedly telling him, “thank you.”
miguel shook his head, a palm flat on his hips. “it’s no problem. i just wanted to make sure the little girl got back home safe.”
ever since that moment, you’d been extremely grateful for miguel. to say nothing of the fact that he did a bunch of yard work out of the sheer kindness of his heart. he insisted multiple times that he didn’t need any reward, but you had to argue. there was a chance you might not have ever seen meadow again had he not brought her back to you. if you lost your daughter, you would have nothing left.
so, your idea of compensation happened to be food, which miguel didn’t mind at all. you loved to cook. you used to cook all of the time, every meal from breakfast to dinner.
that was a while ago, though. standing on his front door now with a hot plate in hand, you tried desperately not to go down memory lane. 
not too long after, miguel opened the door and spotted you standing in his doorway. “good evening.”
“good evening, miguel. this is for you,” you said with a polite smile, extending the plate. 
“thank you,” he said graciously, accepting the food with a matching smile. “may i ask what for?”
you didn’t really know the answer yourself. the yard had already been mowed and there didn’t seem to be any other issues that lani couldn’t take care of herself. “just in case you were hungry or something. but if you’re not, you can always save it later.”
“i’m starving,” miguel replied, smiling with his eyes. they were beautiful. much like the rest of him, you might add. his broad shoulders and dark hair and the way his muscles poked out of his t-shirts.
“well, then. that solves that,” you said with a laugh. “have a goodnight, mr. o’hara!”
“you, too!”
miguel watched you back off his doorway, just until he was certain you were safely back in your house. you could feel his eyes on you like a sixth sense, but didn’t dare turn around, shutting your front door behind you.
“you’re seriously telling me you weren’t checking him out?” came hobie’s voice from your couch. 
rather than startle, you took off one of your slippers and said, “you have until the count of five. one, two, three-”
“c’ya,” hobie said, darting down the hall. 
you shook your head and let out a sigh.
EARLIER THAT DAY…
miguel shook his head and heaved a breath. 
peter, who had taken a kind of passion to his job, was none too thrilled by the news. “you let a thief wanted in forty-two counties get away?”
“forty-three,” lyla chirped.
miguel glared, on the verge of letting out an animalistic roar. normally, this would be something miguel yelled at the others about, so it was a very unwelcome change of pace. “we have a back-up plan,” miguel reminded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i’ve got it under control.”
“you sure that you’ve got it under control?” gwen asked, definitely pushing miguel’s buttons in ways that she shouldn’t have. “and not-”
“stop,” miguel hissed. “everyone go. i need to be alone.”
nobody wanted to contend with that tone, so gwen dragged miles out of the room in case miguel decided to take his anger out on him, with peter quickly following. jessica stayed behind, closing the door behind them, and lyla was, well… a computer.
miguel really did have a plan, because of course he did, he was never without one. in fact, not having a plan to follow made him lose his mind. so it was safe to say it wasn’t the fact that his mission had failed that was making him upset. it was you.
“hey,” jessica said, brushing his shoulder. “what’s on your mind?”
“i’m fine,” miguel said a little more harshly than intended, though it was to be expected with him. 
jessica snickered, putting her hands on her hips. “well, when you say it with that mean ‘ole tone of yours, i know you’re lyin’.”
look at him. a grown man sulking. it was hilarious, not that jessica would say that aloud. right now.
not too many people knew the actual plan. jessica knew. lyla knew, because of course she did, but miguel deliberately told the others that the plan was to catch you because you were a threat to the multiverse. which was the half truth, but the part about you potentially destroying the multiverse was just feeder for the birds. he didn’t want them to ruin things.
in reality, he did intend to catch you, but not because you were going to destroy the multiverse. he wanted you to help them save it. he’d been watching you for a while now, gauging your power. battling you for the first time was merely a test. he could have taken you down in no time if he wanted, left you for the cops to grab, but that would only put a dent in his plans.
miguel had seen what you could do. now, he was ready to bring you in.
TWO WEEKS LATER…
you were running, a bit more comfortably than last time considering this thiefing ordeal didn’t require you to wear painfully long heels and a dress with a huge slit down the front. just your typical mask. you burst out of the door that led to the rooftop, heaving, given that you’d just ran up what felt like fifty flights of stairs.
you were just about to shapeshift into your signature jet-black raven until you felt something stick at your feet and realized you couldn’t move. glancing down, you saw red webs, and threw your head back with a groan. not good for takeoff, you thought, in spite of the fact that you absolutely could not get caught. maybe you could still fly, but if the webs got stuck to your feathers, it was game over.
spider-man emerged from the shadows of night, moonlight glimmering on his suit. “going somewhere?”
“well, not anymore, looks like,” you grumbled, irritated. 
little did the police know, you had already dropped off the stolen item. so you would still get your next paycheck. though the expenses for having to get you out of jail could’ve potentially taken a toll on it, depending on how benevolent your boss was feeling.
spider-man chuckled, approaching you. “what did you steal this time? an emerald? a ruby?”
“wouldn’t you like to know?” you hissed.
“you got me there,” replied spider-man, although there was a kind of arrogance in his tone that really pissed you off. “i’m not letting you get away this time.”
you cackled, almost like a witch. “you can deter me, spider-man, all you want,” you told him, trying to break out of the webs, but to no avail. “but i’m unstoppable.”
spider-man took one look at you, struggling to free yourself from your restraints, and cackled. “here. let me help.”
you sucked in a breath when his talons started to protrude from the tips of his fingers, but they were gone after the mere three seconds it took for him to slash the thread of string to bits. you stepped back an inch, as if you were testing your freedom. then, you threw him a baffled look behind your mask. there was no reason why the same man trying to catch you just set you free. unless it was a trap.
now was your moment. you could have shapeshifted and been on your merry way, but something told you to stay put. just for now, as if you were going to miss something. 
“i think she went up here, boss!”
hearing those voices, your first instinct was to take flight, but spider-man had different plans and you quietly gasped when he shoved you behind a wall, placing a sheathed hand over your mouth. it was the only part of your mask that wasn’t covered. breathing issues.
there were footsteps. you glanced at spider-man, who was looking at you. the two of you said nothing, but there had to have been a billion thoughts warring through your mind and they each blurred into each other. 
“don’t move a muscle,” spider-man growled, stepping from behind the wall and approaching the police. for whatever reason, you listened, despite the fact that you should have fled while you still had the opportunity. some nerve this guy had telling you what to do.
spider-man donned his friendliest tone, greeting, “everything alright, sheriff?”
“we got a tip that a woman ran this way,” the sheriff said, glancing around the rooftop. now would probably be a great time to shapeshift into a chameleon. or literally any small critter.
“i didn’t see a woman. i can assure you it’s just me up here,” spider-man said, scratching his head. “but i can help you find her.”
the sheriff seemed to mull it over, from the brief pause you noticed him take, but ultimately responded, “no, no, that’s okay. you do enough around here, spider-man. we’ve got this one.”
“alright. you have a good night, sheriff.”
your eyes flickered, hearing the footsteps of the sheriff and his team fade. did spider-man just protect you - again?
“why did you do that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him from behind your mask. you didn’t like this guy, if it wasn’t obvious enough. you felt like he was trying to get you off guard, and that made you dig in your heels even more.
“because if anyone’s gonna turn you in, it’ll be me,” spider-man said in a low tone, cornering you against the wall and trapping you in front of his chest. “i want to take you down all by myself.”
you snickered. that had to have been the most amusing thing you’d heard all day. you placed your hands on his shoulders, purring, “really now? you think you can take me down?”
“i know i can,” he told you, his words whispering to you with the rustling of the wind. “and i will.”
“hm,” was all you said, bringing one of your hands down his chest. he sounded so certain. 
spider-man cocked his head. you couldn’t see, obviously, but there was a little grin dancing on his lips. “do you touch every guy like this or am i special?”
“i loved a man once,” you told him. not that it was any of his business. you cloaked the wistfulness in your voice with sultriness. “didn’t end too well for either of us.”
spider-man paused, like he was surprised by the sudden confession, but wasted no time to recover. “is that why you’re here?”
you chewed your lip. he was right on the money. “i’m here because i choose to be.”
“but if you had the chance to be something else, something… better,” spider-man started, tracing your lip with his concealed thumb. “you would take it, right?”
of course, you would. those kind of opportunities just weren’t something everybody was fortunate enough to have. you had it all and then you lost it in the blink of an eye, watching it all crumble before your feet. if you were being honest, you were cheating death.
“i guess we’ll never know,” was all you said before breaking out of his arms and jumping off of the building. 
spider-man watched you, but he knew you would be alright even before he saw the raven come up and disappear into brooklyn’s dark evening sky and he couldn’t tell you apart from a star.
THE FOLLOWING DAY…
with your line of work, you had quite a few days off. but that was because you didn’t have a fixed schedule, which was a blessing and a curse wrapped into one. when your boss called, you answered. even if it meant having to haul ass out of bed at four in the morning.
today was one of those days off. you insisted lani didn’t need to do anything, sending her money to make sure she was set since she was basically your daughter’s full-time babysitter. you made meadow breakfast, dropped her off at school, and went back home. 
thinking about meadow and if she was safe always made you nervous. since you could afford it these days, you enrolled her in a private school. it didn’t hurt, even if she hates the uniform at first. you just wanted to decrease the chances of something bad happening to her.
miguel was on his front porch when you pulled into the driveway, your houses not significantly far from each other. every now and then, you let your eyes wander, and then you let your mind wonder why a man as fine as himself lived all alone.
“hey,” miguel said, waving you over. “you’re home early.”
“so are you,” you replied, shocked that he was home. this was a man that worked a typical nine-to-five, so he should have been gone longer than you, technically speaking. though he did tend to disappear often. “i admit i was a little curious when i saw your car still parked when i went to drop meadow off.”
“off day,” was all miguel said, flashing you a full set of teeth. jesus fucking christ, this man had a mesmerizing smile. “what are your plans for today, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“oh, you know. just catching up on sleep and throwing something on the stove,” you told him offhandedly. like any other working individual on their day off, you just wanted to rest. “there’s nothing like a nap on a full stomach. what about you?”
miguel rubbed his nape. “well, i was going to do some extra paperwork and some work around the house, but your plan sounds better than mine.”
you chortled, because you couldn’t even politely disagree. “in that case, you can always come over, if you’d like. no one’s home but me and i don’t bite.”
though you didn’t realize until it was too late, miguel had gotten very close to you. you could feel his warmth on your skin, although your bodies didn’t touch. his arm was just shy of yours. “no, no. i couldn’t,” he said. 
you waved him off. “of course, you could. you’re not a parasite, miguel. we both give to each other.”
“are you sure it’s okay?”
“positive. we’re both grown adults. you don’t need anyone’s permission but mine to come over to my house, you know,” you joked.
miguel visibly mulled it over, his brows furrowed in deep thought, almost as though he thought you were going to eat him or something. but then he bobbed his head and said, “sounds like a good time.”
you broke into a smile that you hadn’t made in years, leading miguel to your house. ironically, it was the first time he had been inside. you hadn’t had any indoor issues that you or lani couldn’t take care of on your own so far, which meant he stuck to yardwork. foolishly, you were a little nervous.
“tidy,” miguel remarked while he followed you to your kitchen. you didn’t see the way he smiled at the tiny pairs of shoes on the rack in the foyer. he noticed that there were a lot of pictures of meadow hanging around, ranging from when she was a mere infant until now.
“very. thank god for lani. i used to think i was a good, but that woman is a different breed of clean,” you said after washing your hands, grabbing a bunch of ingredients from your cabinets and refrigerator. 
miguel observed from behind your island, leaning up against it. “you two seem very close.”
“i trust her with my life. and my daughter’s life. she’s like a sister to me,” you told him, smiling. for a split-second, miguel swore he saw something wistful. “she almost was.”
“almost?”
“almost,” you whispered, plopping a bag of peppers onto the counter. 
miguel didn’t press. if you wanted to talk about it, you would. the two of you weren’t exactly close, no matter how blurry the lines between just friends and neighbors had gotten over the years.
reading the room, miguel expertly shifted the subject, “what are you making?”
the stars were back in your eyes as you gushed, “it’s a family recipe. my mother used to make it all the time. i feel bad now for complaining about how much she did when i was a kid. it’s mouthwatering perfection.” you deliberately left out the part that you felt bad because you would never get the chance to eat her food again.
“i hear you,” miguel replied, watching you cut the peppers. he didn’t like how sharp the knife was. “let me help.”
you brushed him off. “it’s fine. sit down.”
“i wasn’t asking,” miguel said sternly, his feet already moving. 
you blinked. “oh. okay.”
miguel maneuvered around the island, grabbing your waist while he walked past you, which admittedly made butterflies flutter in your gut. you chided them, begging them to keep the excitement to a minimum, but it was no use when you saw miguel had rolled up his sleeves and taken the knife out of your hands.
you pretended to look at the vegetables, though it couldn’t have been more obvious that you were watching his bare, exposed forearms and the taut muscles tense with his every movement. then, reminding yourself that there were other things you could have been doing, you tried to concentrate on the meat.
absentmindedly working, your thoughts were still on his arms, though for more chaste reasons. there were some lingering scratches on his skin, like he’d gotten into a fight or two. you wondered if he was taking care of himself. 
something particularly paralyzing hit you when you realized that that was all you could do - wonder. you didn’t really know miguel, nor did he know you, and you had long convinced yourself that it was better that way. you kept your family a distance from others until they bared their souls to you.
miguel was different. there was an air of familiarity to his presence. like he had half a soul that was completed by yours.
after forty minutes of what felt like reckless conversation featuring the two of you cooking instead of the other way around, lunch was ready and it was noon. you offered miguel wine and chattered over a meal and through your wine drunk haze. 
good thing he only lived next door.
“you know, you cook the best food i’ve ever tasted,” miguel told you, not a single sign of insincerity on his face. 
you perked up, glancing at him from across the dining table. what a kind gentleman he had been, refusing to let you set the table. or carry the dishes over. “really?”
“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t mean it,” he said. “such great flavor.”
“thanks,” you chirped, breaking into a broadening grin. “i’ve been hoping to pass it down to meadow so that the legacy doesn’t die. she loves watching me cook. her grandmother would be proud.”
miguel cocked a brow. “no other family?”
you shook your head, fidgeting with the near-empty wine glass now that you’d finished your meals. “nope. my mother was single, my father is god knows where, so it was just me and her for the longest. and you know how i said lani was almost my sister?”
“mm-hm,” miguel hummed, brows furrowed as a sign he was listening deeply. 
you sucked in a breath. you had never admitted this to anyone before. “she was my fiancé’s sister. he, uh, yeah. work incident. six years ago.”
miguel’s features softened, the ache on your face conspicuous. hurt recognized hurt. he grabbed your hand from underneath the table, gave it a gentle squeeze, and said, “i’m sorry that happened.” 
“me, too,” you mumbled.
you deliberately left out the part that you were involved in that incident. it was a dinner at alchemax with the man you were about to start a family with and his boss, who had sent the rest of the company home. you wished you would have seen it coming, wished you would have known your drinks were spiked before your almost husband sipped from that glass.
the dosage had killed him, but mutated your dna. you should have died. it was a miracle your unborn baby at the time survived. instead, you turned into a shape-shifting entity, a mere test subject.
though there weren’t any signs, you were always wary, wondering if meadow had been affected by the dosage, but the doctors declared her very healthy at birth and during checkups.
“i lost my family, too,” miguel confessed, much to your and his mutual surprise. “i wasn’t always a lonely old man. i had a wife and a daughter.”
that piqued your interest. “have you looked again?”
“have you?”
that was fair. “no,” you said. not particularly, came a voice in your head, but you didn’t let it speak. “mainly because i have a daughter. i’m careful who i bring into her life. and with work, i don’t have the time to do background checks on who i date.”
“you’re a good mother,” miguel said after a moment or two. “meadow is lucky to have you.”
you smiled gently. “i like to think so.”
minutes of conversation turned into hours with miguel, but you didn’t forgo your plans of napping. almost the second you put on the movie, both of you were fast asleep, your head on his shoulder. 
when you woke up again, your head had fallen to his chest and his arm was tightly secured around your waist like a seatbelt. it wasn’t time to pick up meadow, you had set a time just in case you got a little too distracted, but you noticed a text from lani insisting that she would drop your daughter off since she was in the area of her school and wanted you to rest.
for a little while, you let yourself wallow in the feeling of miguel’s warmth and the sound of his soft snores. it wasn’t very often that you actually let yourself enjoy things.
you were too paranoid. too vigilant. it was nice to put your guard down for a second.
the doorbell rang after a while and you felt miguel’s arm flex protectively around you. he was awake.
“it’s lani. she dropped off meadow,” you whispered, feeling his protective grip slacken. your heart fluttered at how instinctively cautious he was over you.
standing to your feet, you opened the door and greeted your daughter. you made small talk with lani at the door before she said she had places to be and drove off. 
“hi, mr. o’hara,” greeted meadow when she entered the living room, plopping on the couch to watch cartoons. 
“hey, cheeto,” miguel greeted gruffly, sitting up. “you don’t have any homework to do?”
“nope,” meadow said, popping the p. “we don’t have homework on friday’s.”
“oh, silly me,” miguel said, making you poorly stifle a laugh.
meadow giggled, too. 
miguel cocked his head at you, standing beside him, leaning against the arm of the chair. “who are you laughing at?”
you raised your arms defensively. “nothing.”
“i said,” miguel started, donning a playfully monster-like tone, probably for meadow’s amusement. you gasped when he switched your positions, though he was rather gentle when he pushed you into the couch. “who are you laughing at?”
when his fingers started to dance over your skin, you couldn’t even get the words out, convulsing in a fit of giggles as he tickled you and pressed you for answers. you squirmed and writhed, laughing uncontrollably.
“meadow,” you called out for help, but she simply covered her ears and kept her eyes glued to the television screen for all the times you tickled her. but you saw her lips twitch into a mischievous grin.
there was almost tears in your ears at this point. miguel’s fingers were merciless, almost killing you with how much they made you laugh. 
“oh my god, miguel, quit it…,” you chanted, your cheeks hurting. 
“what’s the magic word?”
“stop.”
“wrong answer.”
“please,” you blurted, a line of tears rolling down your face as you writhed beneath him. “please!”
miguel let up, at last pulling back from your frame as your chest heaved and you tried to catch your breath. meadow lifted up her hand and high-fived miguel, both of them looking like nothing but trouble.
miguel plopped back on the couch, asking, “are you okay?”
“i almost pee’d myself,” you admitted through ragged breaths. 
both miguel and meadow laughed. 
once you could breathe again, you called meadow into the kitchen for an after school snack since she insisted that she wasn’t very hungry. “mom,” she called out, standing beside you. “a boy told me he liked me at school today.”
any other parent would have had a heart attack, but you knew your daughter well enough, and asked expectantly, “and what did you say?”
“that he’s icky,” she told you with a straight face. 
you snickered in amusement. “atta girl.”
“do you like mr. o’hara?”
now that almost gave you a heart attack, but you feigned some kind of semblance of calm, asking, “what makes you think that?”
“it just looks like it,” meadow chirped, but she was quick to get distracted by the snacks in the pantry and asked for a blueberry muffin.
but that was the million dollar question. did you like miguel o’hara?
THE NEXT DAY IN DOWNTOWN BROOKLYN…
“it’s about time you got here,” was the first thing hobie said when you arrived at the warehouse.
the abandoned warehouse was rusty and run-down, and it wasn’t too much of a leap to make that it hadn’t been used in years. you swore you saw a critter scurry away upon your entrance.
“hello to you too, hobie,” you greeted levelly. “cutting to the chase, where’s michael fontana? you didn’t leave a live body alone, did you?”
hobie scoffed, “ay, do i look like an amateur to you? follow my lead.”
you followed hobie through the warehouse littered with clutter, boxes cast aside that were presumably filled with old junk and spiders. the job was supposed to easy. tie the guy up, press him for answers, and relay the information. it could have been a one-person job, but your boss preferred having multiple witnesses.
hobie’s fingers curled around a doorknob, turning it and pushing the door open. but the room was void of life. your brows furrowed, glancing up at hobie, uttering, “there’s nobody here…”
you screamed when you felt somebody grab you from behind, assuming it was an escaped michael fontana. this is why you don’t hire nineteen-year-olds, you thought grumpily to yourself.
struggling in his arms, you shouted to your partner, “hobie, the gun!”
hobie didn’t move a muscle, much to your shock, shooting you an apologetic wince. “sorry, mate. it’s nothing personal. i actually like you,” he said. “but boss’ order.”
you glanced back, the sting of brutal betrayal settling in with the mind-numbing realization that the person grabbing you wasn’t michael fontana.
before you could shapeshift, you felt a needle poke your arm and hissed, just a grand total of seconds before your body went slack and the world around you vanished.
when you regained consciousness, the first thing you noticed was how bright it was in whatever room you were in, sunlight filtering through the blinds. the second thing you noticed was that your hands were cuffed behind the back of whatever chair you were now sitting in, followed by the pain flaring through your right arm. 
glancing around, you opened your winced eyes. an interrogation room with an outdoor window. that was a first.
“she’s awake!” you heard someone calling out, craning your head to spot two teenagers. if you had to guess, they didn’t look over seventeen. the boy waved, but the girl tugged his hand back down.
they must have heard someone coming, but they moved out of the way, letting them cross the threshold between their room and yours, the door already open. like they knew for certain that there was no way you could escape.
spider-man came to sit in front of you, across from you. your last memory was of him standing behind you. you narrowed your eyes, sneering, “you.”
you didn’t wonder how he knew who you are, remembering hobie had betrayed you. he must have been ratting you out for the longest. marsai had been looking into how spider-man seemingly always knew when and where you’d strike, but found nothing. you guessed you had your answer.
“not me,” spider-man said, deactivating his mask. “me.”
shock paralyzed you, not that you could move very much in the first place. this had to be some kind of dream. or, better yet, a nightmare. “miguel?” you gasped.
it all made sense now. the disappearances at random hours of the day and ungodly hours of the night. the scratches and bruises you sometimes noticed on his skin, and lord knows you hadn’t even seen half of them. it was because he was out fighting evil, out fighting you. 
“i’m not your enemy,” miguel said, his voice stern like it had been in your kitchen.
“yes, because only my ally would set me up, drug me, and cuff me to a chair,” you droned, voice dripping with sarcasm.
you shifted as much as you could,  uncomfortable at the thought of being drugged. the last time it happened, you lost a fiancé, the future you always wanted, and - on the brink of death - turned into a shape-shifting creature. you were also a little hurt, not that you would show it on the surface. you’d trusted miguel, even liked him, much to your daughter’s suspicion.
wondering how long he knew was even more maddening. this man was posing as your kind next-door neighbor all the while knowing where you were and what you did when you left your home everyday. and all of it was for what - to capture you and cage you like an animal?
miguel lolled his neck. you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, weighing him down. “it was for your own good. you would have tried to shapeshift and get away from me, no?”
you chewed your lip, saying nothing. you didn’t want to admit that he was right. much to miguel’s amusement. 
“about that,” came one of the two teenagers, the boy, you noticed. “we really wanted to ask you about being a shapeshifter. i mean, that’s so cool. i’ve never met a shapeshifter before.”
“most people haven’t, kid,” you said stiffly. “who are you two?”
“i’m miles morales,” the boy introduced himself, stretching out his hand for you to shake. 
wiggling your fingers behind your back, you droned, “my hands are kinda tied here, kid. literally.”
miles made a face, immediately rushing to uncuff you after miguel unceremoniously tossed him the key. 
“i’m gwen stacy,” the girl said as your cuffs slackened and your hands were freed. “can you please tell us what it’s like to be a shapeshifter?”
“no, no, and no,” miguel said for you, clearly against the idea for whatever reason. 
“but why?” gwen pressed. then, an idea hit her and she looked to you, continuing, “miguel didn’t mean any harm. he has a good reason for doing all of this.”
“i’d sure like to hear it,” you mumbled under your breath.
“miguel hasn’t really told us, either,” miles added. “i mean, i thought-”
gwen covered miles’ mouth before he could say anything that would undo and hender their progress and convincing either you or miguel. 
from the looks if it, though, miguel was unimpressed to begin with, a blank look on his face. “whatever you’re trying to do, gwen, it’s not working.”
“it’s her choice,” gwen reminded, returning her attention to you and clasping her hands together against her chest. “please, please, please? we won’t bother you ever again.”
you glanced at miguel, who was glancing at you, both of you trying to read each other. there seemed to be a telepathic communication going on between you both before miguel visibly relented and you said, “alright, fine. go ahead. shoot.”
“can you shapeshift into anything?”
“animals and other humans, but not objects. and only living things that i’ve stored dna from.”
“do your senses get enhanced, like superhuman?”
“my senses depend on whatever - or whoever - i’m inhabiting,” you explained. “like, if i were to shapeshift into a bat, my hearing would be keener. but when it comes to humans, i only don their appearance.”
“do you have weaknesses?”
“next question,” you mumbled. of course, you did. your abilities were impaired when you were sick or injured, and downright disarmed it you consumed or came into close contact with something that you were allergic to. it was your kryptonite, not that anyone needed to know that.
“how long can you stay in shapeshifting form?”
“depends on my health.”
“alright, that’s enough,” miguel said. “both of you. out.”
strangely enough, miles and gwen didn’t argue, seemingly content with your answers. they bid you goodbye and left the room chattering amongst themselves.
you cocked your head, meeting miguel’s stare. “well, cap, what’s your motive?”
miguel got comfortable in his chair, like he was about to give you a monologue. “you’ve been on our radar since you mutated. i was going to just lock you up and throw you with the others at first, since i assumed you were hurting innocent people.”
“you think daddy’s boy and his family are innocent?” you asked with a hint of amusement. 
“rodney malone-fisk?” 
you groaned at that name. “you call him rodney. i call him a spoiled brat.”
“i know what his family did to you. what they took from you,” miguel started, making all the blood drain from your face. “your fiancé didn’t just die in a work incident. he was killed as a lab rat. fisk was trying to test out a mix that would grant him dimension-traveling abilities but it ended up being a shape-shifting solution instead. you were supposed to die, too, but the dosages weren’t measured properly.”
you said nothing. there was nothing that you could say. just thinking about it made tears sting your eyes.
miguel grabbed your hand over the table, squeezed it like he had the other day. there was tenderness he had for you that he hadn’t felt in a long time. you understood him. “you know why i asked if you had the chance to be something better, would you take it? because i know that you’re more than this. you’re not a bad person. you just do bad things to survive.”
“i can’t,” you whispered, swatting his hand away. “everything i touch, i destroy.”
that miguel understood on levels he didn’t want to nor care to admit.
you fought the tears with all your might. after your fiancé died, you lost everything you had. except for your family. you had meadow and lani and built a safe haven for them from the ground up, swearing to protect them with your whole heart.
“i want to give you that chance,” miguel said stoically. “on a silver platter. i want you to join us.”
your eyes flickered. “join you? to do what?”
“you obviously have useful skill that could be put to better use. but kingpin and his son are going to destroy your universe as you know it if nobody stops him. and if anyone deserves to take him down, it’s you.”
that got your attention. kingpin wanted to destroy the universe? your fiancé always talked about his boss wanting to cross different dimensions, but you never thought it was humanly possible.
though considering you could shapeshift, you figured anything was possible nowadays. but your major concern was your daughter, your eyes widening with the realization that you should have been with her already. you could feel a tingle, sensing that something just wasn’t right. 
you didn’t say a word as you immediately hopped to your feet and ran out of the door, miguel immediately giving chase, but you ultimately disappeared into a crowd of spider-people and although it couldn’t have been too hard to differentiate you from them, you were already on the loose.
running as fast as you could, you didn’t stop, although you didn’t really know where you were going and with all the many spider-people roaming around that resembled each other, it felt as though you were running in circles.
then, you came face-to-face with hobie, and scowled.
“move,” you hissed. 
hobie called out your name. “ay, mate, no hard feelings.”
“all the feelings i have for you right now are hard,” you snarled, pushing past him. you would be affording miguel the same amount of animosity when you were certain your daughter was safely in your arms. right now, he was in your way, and anyone stopping you from being with your kid was going to be met with a snappy attitude.
“wait,” hobie called out behind you. 
you turning around, pointing an accusing finger towards him, and snapped, “i was supposed to be back with my child by now and because of you i’m not. so unless you’re going to help me get to her, i suggest you move out of my way.”
“that guy sucks anyway,” hobie said, not having to even think about which option he preferred. “follow me.”
you hesitated, because he was the whole reason that you were even here, but eventually followed him down the hallway, careful to move quiet and stealthily. you were also wary that it could be trap, but truth be told, you had no other way out.
though you probably should have questioned how or why it was so many of them, that was the last thing on your mind. lani was probably worried sick about you. you didn’t have a clue what time it was, but it didn’t take a genius to know that hours had passed, and you said you would be home way before now. 
the hall broadened towards its end where you saw a gathering of spider-people, all looking like they were scouting somebody out. “blast, he’s got them looking for you,” hobie grumbled under his breath. he walked you back around a corner and handed you something around his wrist. “here, take this.”
“what the hell is that?”
“it’s a wristband. it’ll open a portal to your universe. but you’ve gotta go now,” hobie explained, tapping some kind of button. 
you were more than a little surprised when an orange warp portal opened.
“go,” hobie said, glancing around for anybody. “i’ve got your six.”
hearing footsteps approaching, you neared the portal and almost entered, but there was a gnawing question that you couldn’t ignore. you whipped around, asking, “where do your loyalties lie?”
“in myself,” hobie answered without a second of hesitation. “and in the people that mean the most to me.”
you scoffed. “what happened to boss’ order?”
“i’m my own boss. that was in your best interest,” hobie replied, leaning against the wall. “c’mon. get outta here.”
turning around, you sucked in a breath, and walked through that portal. 
BACK IN BROOKLYN…
you returned right back at your house, just near the road. glancing around, nothing looked too out of the ordinary. lani’s car was parked in the driveway, meaning she had to have been there. didn’t she?
running to your house with all of your speed, you prepared to search yourself for your keys, only for your heart to drop when you realized that the door was already wide open.
heart racing, you burst through the foyer, and the first thing you saw when you entered your living room was lani sprawled out on the floor, a puddle of blood beneath her. 
“lani,” you gasped out, crouching down beside her. 
lani’s eyes were fluttering, a tremble in her weak voice as she whispered, “i tried to stop them.”
“stop who?” you asked, trying to stop the blood flow. she had been shot, lying here for only god knew how long. you threw off your jacket and pressed it to her gut, apologizing when she winced out in pain. 
“kingpin’s men,” she croaked. “they took meadow. they want you.”
you gritted your teeth, bristling with anger. hadn’t that man taken enough from you? you let him get away with killing your fiancé, but your daughter was crossing the line and you’d show him the mistake he’d made. even if it cost you everything. “where?” you asked. 
lani lifted up her arm, and that was when you noticed that it was also coated in blood, but there were symbols carved into her skin. 
it was the symbol of an abandoned alchemax building.
“go,” lani said, tensing as though it took all of her strength to say that one syllable. your fingers were clenched into fists. you would kill everyone involved with your bare hands if you had to. 
“no,” you balked, shaking your head. “i can’t leave you like this.”
lani grabbed your hand, lacing her fingers through yours. “your daughter is more important.”
thinking about what they could have been doing to meadow right now made you shudder with a fear you had never felt before. 
“i’ll take her to a hospital,” came a voice from behind you. you turned immediately, recognizing it. there stood miguel, still clad in his spider-man suit. “go save your daughter. i’ve already sent the team.”
you stood, coming face-to-face with miguel, and hissed, “if anything happens to her…”
“i know,” miguel said, as if he understood you wholeheartedly. “go.”
miguel scooped lani up into his arms, and it hurt you when she hissed in pain. you turned to her. “i’ll come back for you.”
lani smiled weakly. “i know you will.”
and with that, you were out the door, shapeshifting into your signature raven and flying across town.
the abandoned alchemax wasn’t exactly old. it was the building where your fiancé was killed and they covered up the incident as the result of faulty equipment, which ultimately led them to build an entirely new facility. you landed on top of the building that somehow hadn’t been demolished yet, transforming back into yourself when your feet were against the ground.
there wasn’t really an entrance all the way up here. the rooftop door was blocked and bolted as preventative measures. guess i’ve got to make my own door, you told yourself, undeterred.
spotting a stray piece of metal debris, you wielded the pipe in your hands. there was always the option of the lower-level entrances, if you wanted to get caught immediately. kingpin’s men were probably staking the place out, waiting to ambush.
you stepped back, holding the pipe, and charged towards the door as you shattered the window open, glass shards flying everywhere. cautiously stepping over the glass, you fitted your way through the gap you’d created, craning your head downwards until your feet plopped against the floor.
you were in. 
there were two halls on either side of you and though you didn’t really know which one went where, you followed your gut and took the path to your right.
the whole place was eerily dark and empty. duh, it’s abandoned, you cogitated. not that it made things any better. all you could hear was yourself, your own feet against the cold floor, though it would be naive to believe you were truly alone.
someone was here. kingpin’s men were everywhere but nowhere at the same time, waiting for you to make yourself known. and miguel had told you that he sent the team that should have been here by now, making you wonder how they got in and if they’d been detected.
you couldn’t explain it, but it felt like you were being watched, like there was somebody on your heels ready to strike you in your back when you least expected it. though to be honest, you always felt that way. always alert. never safe.
what you would give to live in peace again, to rest your heart and mind even for just a second. but you couldn’t afford not to be careful, not when you had a daughter to live for.
walking by a door, you cried out in shock when somebody grabbed your arm in pulling you inside, instinctively shapeshifting into a venomous creature, but withdrawing when you saw that it was only hobie and his friends.
“i almost killed you,” you hissed to him after donning your normal appearance again.
hobie threw his hands off, feigning innocence. 
there were two people you didn’t recognize tagging along with them. gwen shut the door, while a lady approached you, introducing, “i’m jessica. i work with miguel. and listen, we really need your help.”
your brows furrowed. “what’s going on?”
“kingpin’s making this weird space-traveling machine that’s really a doom machine because he’s gonna kill everyone,” some kid rambled. “oh, i’m pavitr.”
miles looked surprised, like nobody told him what was going on, and asked, “you got evil kingpin in your universe, too?”
“unfortunately,” you mumbled. 
“he’s out of control. he doesn’t know what he’s doing,” gwen told you frantically. “we’re making a device that will deactivate the accelerator but it’s taking some time.”
“so what?” you asked, trying to get to the point. “you want me to stall him?”
“he’s got cheeto,” hobie reminded. “there ain’t no telling what he’ll do to her if somebody doesn’t stop him.”
you gritted your teeth, filled with unadulterated rage. god, you felt murderous. you tried to speak levelly, “so, what’s the plan?”
“we split up into pairs,” jessica said. “we find where he has the accelerator. that’s where he’s keeping your daughter.”
hobie declared, “i dibs miles.”
miles didn’t protest. jessica insisted it was best if the younger ones were supervised, so she volunteered to take pavitr and the device that they were cooking. which left you with gwen. “guess it’s just you and me, kid,” you said, stepping out of the room.
“i think it’s really cool that you can shapeshift,” gwen told you while you stealthily crept down a hall with her. “i mean, it sucks how it happened to you, but…”
“shh,” you whispered, tugging her behind a wall. she seemed surprised, but then she heard the footsteps, too.
someone was coming.
“i’m gonna do something really weird,” you told her lowly. “and i need you to play along.”
“what are you…”
you shapeshifted into kingpin. 
“oh my god. that is really weird,” gwen mumbled. 
you grabbed her arm none too gently, reminding her to play along, and approached the man that was working for kingpin. “found this one lurking around.”
“i knew i heard something from over here,” the guy said, shooting gwen a scowl. “you want me to take her off your hands, boss?”
“take her to the accelerator. now,” you ordered, handing gwen over, who was doing a good job at looking dejected. “i’ll follow behind.”
the man didn’t hesitate to follow orders, leading you to the room where the accelerator was. that was far too easy. 
it was a lot of walking. apparently the accelerator was at the very bottom of the building, beneath the first floor, heavily guarded by kingpin’s men. it was a good thing you were wearing something even better than a hyper realistic costume.
the room was white and starkly bright compared to every other inch of the place, though all of that could be chalked up to the fact that it was the only room in the whole building currently using energy. and lots of it, too.
when you finally saw your daughter sitting in a small cage above the accelerator, between bars like an animal, you almost killed everyone in the room. instead, you kept your cool, ordering the dude to unhand gwen.
“anything else, boss?”
just as you opened your mouth to speak, the unimaginable happened. the door swung open, revealing the real kingpin, who seemed more than baffled when he saw you standing there. until it hit him that he knew of a shapeshifter. 
“you fool,” kingpin bellowed, glaring at the man. “that’s her!”
“fuck,” you swore under your breath. 
the man turned to you, watching you visibly break into a sweat, and called out, “hey, you’re not my boss!”
that cry got the attention of everyone in the room, all of kingpin’s very armed men. you gave gwen a look and shouted, “now!”
gwen started to shoot webs, restraining men that turned to put their weapons on you, and you shapeshifted into a wolf, attacking the man that had been under the impression that you were his boss until he was nothing but a bloody course. 
and the cycle repeated. kingpin ordered more of his men to move in and attack you, keeping his distance seeing as you were currently in a form of a wolf that could bite his head off if she so pleased. some of his men took him somewhere else in the room, away from you, and crowded him defensively. 
all the while, your five-year-old daughter was watching. she was almost six, and she was brilliant, and she was watching you attack with something that surprisingly wasn’t fear. almost like she thought she was watching a movie of some sorts, anticipating the next scene.
you were trying to get to her, but kingpin had made it so that if you really wanted to, you would have to get through him first.
blood quickly started to pool around and it wasn’t yours. there were bodies everywhere, dropping like flies. though you desperately wanted to cover your daughter’s eyes and spare her from the horror of seeing multiple people die at your hands in real time, you were in too deep of a rage to stop and nothing would keep you from fighting.
then, it happened. you didn’t move quick enough. the bullet tore right through you, making you howl out, and you glitched back into your true form. the wound was there, blood dripping around your calf.
gwen gasped, coming to your side, but she was caught and forcibly restrained. 
“mom!” meadow cried out, gripping the metal cage bars. 
kingpin cackled in amusement. “bravo, bravo. you know, i really do have to applaud the show you put on right there. this could have been painless if you would have just complied.”
“let my daughter go,” you snarled with vitriol. 
“i will,” kingpin said, like she was the most insignificant part of this little scheme of his. “after you give me what i want.
“what don’t you understand? i don’t have anything,” you shouted, fingers reaching to your wound and becoming stained in your own blood. “you took everything from me!”
“the code, woman. what’s the code?” kingpin hissed. “your fiancé was working on it. he cracked it. the code to the accelerator.”
for a second, you genuinely had no idea what he was talking about, until it hit you. your fiancé talked at length about a device at work that he’d been programming under his boss’ order, but he wanted to sabotage it. he said that it was unsafe. that kingpin didn’t realize the mistake he was making. it was an underdeveloped device that could destroy the whole planet.
you quickly realized he’d been talking about the accelerator. he’d worked many long days and nights on it and still thought that it wasn’t ready for use. that was what kingpin had been developing for all these years, completing your fiancé’s unfinished business.
“damn that code,” you snapped irritably.
kingpin was furious, and started to ramble, “your fiancé died at his own hand. he signed a contract. it isn’t my fault that the mix killed him, but if you don’t telling me everything i need to know about this damn machine, i’ll kill you and i’ll kill-”
“boss,” interjected one of kingpin’s men. 
“don’t you hear me speaking?” roared kingpin. 
“but boss, the baby,” the man started. “she’s gone.”
kingpin’s eyes flitted up to the cage, immediately noticing the absence of your five-year-old daughter. “what? how did she escape? what did you do?”
“i didn’t do anything, boss, i swear! i…”
the man’s words interrupted by a blood-curdling cry as a small but ferocious animal attacked him to the ground.
it was a baby wolf. and more importantly, it was your baby.
“capture that thing!” roared kingpin. 
not on your watch. you mustered the strength to rise to your feet, snatching a gun out of the man closest to you and briefly knocking him out with it just before doing a complete three-sixty and shooting in every direction.
all the while, meadow was agile and too quick on her feet, and it didn’t hurt that she was super tiny. you jogged over to gwen, wincing as you limped over, dropping to the ground to avoid facing the barrels of guns and shooting at the men that were restraining her.
gwen wiggled her arm, probably sore from how tightly they were holding her. “thanks.”
“thank me later,” you said, panting for breath.
“wait!” gwen called out behind you. “you’re hurt. can you still shift?”
you exhaled a sigh. “remember when you asked me about my weaknesses?”
“oh.”
“yeah.”
when you turned around, you saw meadow still kicking ass. just a second later, one of kingpin’s men grabbed her and your maternal instincts immediately kicked in, ignoring all of your pain and suffering to parade over there and take action.
it was like you blacked out. you didn’t even know what happened. one second, you were marching over there, and the next, meadow was safely in your arms and the guy that had dared to lay his bare hands on her was floored with more than a couple of broken bones and was certainly no longer breathing.
“are you okay?” you asked, cradling her to your bosom. 
meadow nodded, nestling closer to you. you were almost elated to tears, unable to describe the relief you felt knowing that she was okay. though it was a shock, you were pleasantly surprised that she had inherited your ability. 
worried, but pleasantly surprised.
“do i need to make any other examples of what happens when you come between a mother and her child?” you shouted out, watching a couple of men cower.
in the next second, there was another shattering noise, like the one when you broke into the building through the window. and then you quickly realized that it was a window being smashed into, fractured glass pelting everywhere.
there was a blur of blue and red, but you still recognized it, especially when the intruder’s feet skidded across multiple faces, successfully knocking them out, until he dropped his red string and came to a land before you.
“miguel,” you gasped, more than a little surprised.
“lani is fine. they said she’ll make it,” he said, knowing that you would ask. that was what was most important to you right now. “i didn’t leave her alone. her mother came.”
you nodded, content with that. you weren’t on speaking terms with lani’s mother - she’d never liked you - but you knew she cared for her children deeply and that was all that mattered in that moment.
“oh, how sweet. a reunion,” kingpin barked sarcastically, looking at you both with pure hatred.
miguel’s jaw clenched noticing your injured form, and he immediately caged you and your daughter behind him, bellowing back, “we can either make this really easy or really hard.”
kingpin cackled. “hilarious! i was thinking the same thing.”
miguel growled, reaching for the person nearest to him, and you covered meadow’s eyes when he went to rip them to literal shreds. she had shapeshifted back to normal now, still as tiny as ever, though.
dropping the guy’s remains, miguel glanced around, red eyes making contact with the startled ones of kingpin’s men. he didn’t have to say anything else. they all immediately surrendered, even the ones intended to be defending kingpin. 
“you know, good help is really hard to find these days,” kingpin groaned.
“save it, doucheface,” gwen said, swooping in to wrap him in her webs.
the doors burst open, revealing jessica and pavitr holding an orange, radiating deactivator, followed by hobie and miles.
jessica gave a nod. “it’s ready.”
“catch!” exclaimed pavitr, throwing the device in the air. 
you caught it in your hands. if anybody deserved to destroy this machine, it was you. and you wanted to do it with kingpin helplessly watching, just like how you watched your fiancé die in front of your own eyes, unable to help.
“say goodbye to this piece of shit, kingpin,” you taunted, handing meadow over to miguel as you approached the accelerator. 
“no!” kingpin roared, restlessly flailing in his restraints, but to no avail. 
nothing felt as satisfying as when you latched the deactivator on the accelerator. the whole machine started to groan, jerking in place, and you backed away. the surface started to crystallize and you watched in pure uncertainty of if this was even going to work. 
for a whole minute, the entire room was deadly silent, only watching. like nobody could tell if it was starting up or breaking down. then, it started to ebb out, atom by atom.
piece by fucking piece.
“it’s over!” gwen exclaimed. 
you bobbed your head. it really was over. this was closure.
“i’ll handle him,” jess volunteered with a sigh, throwing kingpin an unimpressed look before glancing between you and miguel. “y’all got things to hash out.”
you avoided miguel’s eyes.
THE SEVENTH FLOOR OF BROOKLYN HOSPITAL…
it felt like hours that you were waiting inside the hospital lobby, so the second that the nurse came up to you and told you that lani was finally available for visiting, you politely thanked her and attempted to rush the whole way to her room with meadow in yours arms.
“lani,” you exhaled when you opened the door to her room. 
“hi,” lani rasped. she was hooked to lots of different things, paler than usual. though, to be fair, she did almost die. meadow rushed over, handing her a bouquet. “oh, wow, are these for me?”
meadow bobbed her head, beaming proudly. “i picked them all by myself.”
though her every moment was obviously taxing, lani flashed a smile. “you have a great eye, meadow. how’d you know tt loves pink?”
meadow giggled. 
you stepped closer, feeling your heart warm and a tear escape your eye, but you quickly wiped it. “i’m so sorry.”
lani gave you a displeased look. “oh, quit it. this is absolutely not your fault.”
“but it is,” you insisted. “i should have known this day would come. it could have been avoided. you should have left town like your mom or...”
lani called out your name and grabbed your hand with all of her strength. “hey, hey, hey. listen to me. you are my sister and i love you so much. i don’t care what the law says or what happened and what didn’t. there is nothing that would stop me from being there for you and i’d take so many bullets for you both.”
your eyes dampened with tears. 
“it already happened. it’s over,” lani whispered. “let it go.”
you bobbed your head, squeezing her hand back. she was the strongest women you knew, though you had a feeling she would have a contrasting opinion.
meadow inspected the stitches on lani’s arm. “tt, what are you going to do about the stitches?”
lani made a face, as if to say that that was a good question. “well, that scar is for sure never going to fade away and i will indefinitely have some scientific research company’s symbol craved into my skin, but on the plus side, i ironically think i’m officially over my fear of needles. so i’ll probably get a tattoo.”
meadow’s eyes were glimmering and she looked to you. “mommy, can i get a tattoo?”
“when you’re old enough, sweetheart,” you cooed, gently patting her on the back.
meadow pouted.
you threw lani a skeptical look, scoffing, “you of all people are seriously thinking about getting a tattoo?”
“not just thinking about it. i’ve decided,” lani told you matter-of-factly. “i figured that if i could survive a knife in my skin, then a needle is nothing. it’s like i unlocked a superpower.”
you shook your head in disbelief. leave it to lani to always make something out of nothing and the best out of everything. “speaking of unlocking superpowers, you won’t believe what happened today...”
lani furrowed her brows, trying to guess, but when she saw you wiggle yours, all the pieces came into place. “no way.”
you grinned. “yes way.”
“i want to see,” lani said, glancing towards meadow. 
“she can’t do it on command yet. trust me, we tried,” you replied with a chortle. “but i saw it with my own eyes. my baby’s got a gift.”
lani breathed out a sigh of bliss. “she sure does.”
speaking of gifts, there was a knock on your door, followed by an exclamation of, “special delivery!”
you recognized that voice, and seemingly so did lani from the smile on her face. even meadow looked happy. you went to go open the door, revealing miguel, dressed in normal clothes for a change. 
he approached lani, carrying a care package that he sat on her bedside. “i hope i’m not intruding. i wanted to give you a get well soon gift. i got you some chocolates in there, by the way, but don’t eat them too soon. they make your blood sugar levels increase, i heard.”
he definitely heard that from lyla, but he wasn’t going to mention that part.
“thank you, miguel,” lani said, glimpsing through the bag. “how you’d know i love ferrero?”
“someone mentioned it in passing,” miguel said, scratching his nape. 
your heart fluttered. he remembered something that you mentioned in passing?
lani nodded in approval, ever so grateful. there were also some soft blankets in there on top of other things. “well, i appreciate it.”
“it’s no problem,” miguel responded, then he glanced towards you, an unreadable look in his eyes. “we need to talk.”
“right,” you drawled. “lead the way.”
miguel turned his back, heading for the door. before you walked out, lani mouthed to you, “he’s a keeper.”
your heart skipped a beat. 
you closed the door behind yourself, looking up to meet miguel’s eyes. “well?”
miguel kissed you. in front of all of the hospital staff roaming the halls, in front of the loose patients, but you didn’t care. all you gave a damn about was his lips on yours and the way his broad shoulders felt in your palms. it was slow and sensual, a first kiss between lovers.
nothing else mattered in that moment. you forgot all of your pain and agony, all of your fears and woes. you forgot the past because you were so deeply rooted in that moment that nothing else occurred to you anymore.
when you two parted to breathe, you jokingly rasped, “i sure like the way you speak.”
miguel chuckled, placing a hand on his hip, before he sobered. “listen to me. i know i lied to you, but i wasn’t doing it to hurt you.”
“i know,” you whispered. “i’m not mad anymore. but i’m not sorry for storming out. my baby...”
“i know,” miguel finished. like he knew the feeling. “she means the world to you. and lani.”
you nodded. 
“i’m… i’m sorry for taking you away from them. she might’ve been okay if i hadn’t,” miguel apologized, much to his own shock. you unlocked sides of him that nobody else had seen, pieces of him he didn’t even know were still there.
“it already happened. it’s over,” you whispered, as a wise woman had once told you. it was water under the bridge. “let it go.”
miguel almost seemed nervous, which was a surprise. you had literally never seen this man nervous.
grabbing his hand and inching closer to his chest, you asked softly, “did you mean it? when you said you lost your family?”
miguel swallowed. “yes. i know how it feels.”
“then you know that it’s hard,” you started, scrambling for words. “you know, reopening yourself to people. being vulnerable. becoming a slave to your feelings because you don’t want to risk getting hurt again.”
miguel was silent, but you knew from the look in his eyes that he understood you completely. 
“but i want to give it a try with you,” you said, voice hardly the frequent beeping scattered along the hospital floor. “and the team.”
miguel’s eyes widened. “you want…”
“yes,” you cut him off. “i want to be on the team. although, i’m not sure how i’ll fit in. i’m not a spider-thing after all.”
miguel groaned, “who gives a damn? i’ll change the whole name for you.”
you giggled, wrapped your hands around his waist.
miguel found himself doing the same to you, holding you as he stared at you with all the affections a man had to offer. he just couldn’t wrap his head around it, or what it meant for the two of you, but he knew you’d both figure it out. 
“miguel?”
“mm?”
“you’re always welcome to be a part of my family,” you whispered gently, voice muffled against his shirt, though he heard you loud and clear. 
miguel’s eyes fluttered closed, holding onto you like he never wanted to let go, like he’d finally found a refuge in you. somewhere where he felt safe enough to let go. “you’re a part of mine now, too.”
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screamforyani · 10 months
Text
lilac - chapter 8 + epilogue
Tumblr media
miguel o’hara x f!reader
summary: the walls are crashing down, and even spiderman can’t hold up an entire universe.
wc: 6k
warnings/tags: smut, kidnapping, universe collapsing, torture, filming, blood, blade violence, explosions, choking, falling off a building, love confessions, major character death, start-overs
If you closed your eyes hard enough, if you flooded your senses with your deep, treasured memories and blocked out everything around you, you were able to transport yourself back into last week. Last week, when Gabriella had crashed on the couch, and you and Miguel were lying in bed with chests heaving and sweat cooling across your necks. The bedside lamp was dim; the bulb needed to be changed. Outside, the city continued to thrive, churning and burning and spitting. But inside your bedroom, your hand clasped in his, the world was still.
He had rolled you over so that you lay on top of his broad frame, but he was still inside of you, soft and flaccid now that he’d finally chased his release - after giving you yours four times. You blinked tiredly, staring at nothing as you felt one of his long, thick fingers skimming over your back.
“I’ve been thinking,” you murmured against the warm, tan skin of his shoulder.
Miguel hummed, acknowledging your words. His fingers continued to graze across your skin, up and down, up and down.
“Obviously we’re… planning on staying together. For a long time. Right?”
Though he kept his eyes closed, his thick, full lips quirked upward into a smirk, allowing the tips of his fangs to poke into view. “Believe me, sweetheart,” he rumbled from deep in his chest. “I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”
His words stirred inside of you, like a new hope springing to life. “Well… we’re going to need to move. Someplace bigger, with more room. For all of us. And this city, Mig, it’s… it’s not safe.”
It was then that Miguel’s eyes opened, and that smile slowly disappeared from his lips. You felt your heart sink with them, like an anchor in your belly. “You’re talking about moving away?” he said. When you only lifted your head to look at him, chin resting on his sternum, he exhaled deep and moved his hand to begin carding through your hair. “I can’t leave, bebe,” he said softly. “You know why.”
Yes, you knew why. It was because he was Spiderman, and this was New York, the worst city in the country to live in. With criminals on every block and fires and shootouts and a sky so deeply and violently purple you’d never even known its true color.
Being a lover, a father, everything before and after and in between, was what made Miguel who he was. But that was only a part. That other half came from being a hero, from helping those who could not help themselves. Walking with a sense of pride in what he did, knowing that people had something to trust in.
And you knew he could never leave that.
So you swallowed thick and let the issue go. You sighed and wrapped your arms around his large, naked form, nestling your face into the soft, delicate spot where his throat met his chest. “Okay,” you said, and you felt him lean down to kiss the crown of your head. “I’d still like a bigger place, though. Your daughter can’t sleep on the couch forever.”
Miguel chuckled, wrapping a sinewy arm around your middle to keep you close while you both dozed off. “I think we can do that.”
You were suddenly brought back to the present when, behind the glass partition you were facing, the giant, hulking machinery moved a few inches before coming to a halt. The metal groaned and squealed, startling the little girl held tight against your chest. Gabriella was heavy, and your arms were beginning to grow tired, but you would hold her until the end of time, if you needed to.
The Alchemax viewing area was dim and dark in the corners of the room, illuminated only by the glow of the control panel to your right and the stark, white lights projected onto the molecular collider in the lab. It was a massive piece of machinery, built to withstand its own otherworldly power, armored and bolted to the ground should the walls and ceiling be blasted away into nothingness.
You turned slightly when the collider moved again, twisting and turning in on itself, and Gabriella released a small, pitiful cry against your shoulder. Twisting your expression into a sneer, you fixed the man at the control panel with the meanest look you could muster.
Doctor Octopus - Otto Octavius, a visionary genius turned terrorist after his mechanical arms took over his head - lifted his head slightly and let his shades slip down his crooked nose. In return to your harsh frown, he gave an apologetic expression that carried no genuinity whatsoever. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said as one of his arms reached out to flip a few switches. “Just a few test runs.”
Shifting Gabriella’s weight to your hip, you glanced down and smoothed the girl’s hair from her face. She was still wearing her jacket that she would have put on at recess - they must have been watching the school, waiting for her to emerge from those brick walls so that they could snatch her up. Suddenly you were cursing yourself, wishing you could face your reflection in a mirror and shatter the glass with a fist. You could have been there. Could have made sure she was safe, she was secure.
Her being here was your fault.
And her being here meant something that made your veins turn to ice when you thought about it; they knew who Spiderman really was.
When the collider began to shift again, shaking the building slightly in its very foundations despite being here in the basement of the building, you turned your head to face Octavius again. “What exactly are you all planning to do with this thing?” you said, watching as he shifted across the control panel to reach a few buttons and scanners. “I heard it wasn’t ready for tests yet.”
“From who, darling?” he said, meeting your eyes over the rims of his shades. “A spider on the wall?” When you said nothing, averting your eyes to the floor, he hummed and continued on, allowing his mechanical arms to carry him over to a large monitor. His gloved fingers typed faster than you thought possible for a person. “Alchemax is playing a dangerous game with a toy they don’t understand. Tests mean nothing when dealing with a piece of the future like this. That Spiderman of yours told you about the multiverse, didn’t he?”
Told you about it. Explained it. Came from it.
Octavius raised a finger and beckoned you toward him. You hesitated, holding your breath, before silently padding across the observation area to stand behind him at the monitor. Squinting your eyes against the light, you watched as he gestured to a warping, live image of string-like animations repeating in a loop on the screen. “These,” he said, finger grazing along the lines, “are realities close within one another. They’re different, sure, but only in little ways. Someone’s eyes are a different shade. A grain of sand is misplaced a foot from where it landed. Again - little ways.” He used the touchpad of the computer to scroll outward, giving you a view of so many lines warping together it looked like almost an entirely colored screen. “And these are the realities within our grasp with the collider. Meaning -” he looked down at you - “every reality in the multiverse.”
You stared at the screen, hugging Gabriella to yourself tightly. One of those lines was Miguel’s reality. Where he was supposed to be.
As Octavius scrolled back in, you caught a glimpse of a line flickering and glitching, unlike the others. You stopped him. “That one,” you said, and he halted. “What’s that one?”
“Earth - 9193,” he said, his voice low and grave. He met your eyes, his gaze darker than it was just a moment ago. “Our home universe.” He gave a rather rueful smile as he watched your expression melt into one of confusion. “In our reality,” he explained as his mechanical arms set him - finally - on the ground, “there is no Spiderman. This city - it’s not supposed to get better. So imagine the universe’s bafflement when Spiderman from a different reality swoops in to save the day. It tries to expel him. Tries to correct canon events gone wrong. But it couldn’t. And so - it’s collapsing.”
“Collapsing?”
“Correct.” He paused and you both looked up when, overhead, there came a distant boom; the city falling apart at the seams. The building shook again and dust fell from the ceiling. To your surprise, he lifted one of his arms and shielded your head as it bounced off your shoulders and clung to your hair. “Call us selfish,” he said and lowered his arm again. “But my associates and I aren’t particularly fond of sticking around when the end comes around.”
You blinked a few times at the screen, feeling your heart skip a beat or twelve as you let his words sink in. Your universe - it was collapsing. That was what the glitches in the city had been. That was why Miguel’s apartment building had folded in on itself - it was because of him. No matter where he went, the glitches followed.
Because he was a virus here in your reality, and when viruses could not be expelled, the system would ultimately kill itself.
You clutched the little girl in your arms a bit tighter. “You’re… running away,” you murmured as Octavius fiddled with the monitor and its data. “You’re leaving us all here to die.” The words were barely able to clear your throat, barely able to keep themselves afloat.
He hummed in that way you noticed he did. “Running away wouldn’t be the correct term,” he replied. “Moreso… self-preserving.”
At that moment, the doors leading into the observation area were thrown open on their hinges to reveal the figures you had come to fear striding into the bay. You took three steps back as the Prowler slid down a railing and came to a smooth landing at Octavius’ side. “How are we looking, Doc?” he said as his purple, eye-lit mask dematerialized to reveal his face. His gaze was a touch crazier than you remembered it, bold and wild in a way that screamed danger.
Octavius’ cold, stony facade slid back into place as he adjusted his shades and rose, his mechanical arms lifting him off the ground. “Swimmingly,” he replied. “A few more tests, and she should be ready for lift off.”
“Perfect!” shouted Ferris abruptly, causing you to jump slightly. He clapped his hands and approached you as, behind him, Kraven hefted a news broadcasting camera onto his shoulder and began to fiddle with the settings. “Sorry to keep you waiting, babe,” said your ex as he approached you, taking two steps forward when you took one back. He showed off a disturbing, unnatural smile. “Had some loose ends to tie up.”
You sneered at him and turned, placing yourself between him and Gabriella. “You’re fucking insane, Ferris,” you hissed, inches from his sickening grin. “Taking me is one thing, but a kid? You’ve lost it, for real this time.”
“Big words, coming from you,” he said, tilting his head as the collider twisted and churned again. “Shacking up with a vigilante who crossed realities to dick you down.” He snickered to himself. “Listen, babe. That day when Spiderman - sorry, O’Hara - cracked my spine and broke my jaw and left me to suffer in that fucking alley, I realized something; why stick around in a dump like this when I can make like your little fuck buddy and squeeze myself into another dimension? Hell, why do I need you when I can just find another one of you who won’t screw me over?
“So I managed to get myself up. Crossed paths with these guys, told them…” He brought his lips close to your ear, so close you felt his breath fan across your skin. “I knew the identity of Spiderman.” He grinned again, drew back slightly to touch his forehead against yours. You would have smacked him, shoved him away, were you not still shielding the little girl in your arms. “I would say it’s not personal, babe,” he whispered. “But it is.”
Then his lips were smashed against yours, so roughly and ruthlessly you were flashed back to when you still lived with him, let him touch you, let him fuck you. He would always kiss you like this, like he possessed you, like he owned you. It only lasted a moment or two before he pulled back, forcefully plucked Gabriella from your arms, and handed her off to the Vulture, who was standing beside Octavius.
“Alright, boys,” he said as his mask materialized back over his face. “Let’s make a movie!”
Taking a few steps closer and backing you up against the glass partition of the observation area, Kraven hoisted the camera up and pointed it directly at you and Ferris. You found yourself frozen in place, petrified and staring back at your own reflection in the lens. His clawed hand came up to grip the back of your neck, and the other clapped over your mouth.
“Stick to the script,” he murmured in your ear, “and I’ll let the kid live.”
“Broadcasting to every system in New York,” said the hunter, then clicked a button and the camera and a light near the top flashed red. “...Now.”
Unbeknownst to you, across every screen in the city - televisions, phones, Times Square, everything - the broadcast crackled through and began to stream. There was not a soul in New York that was not watching.
Not one.
Ferris tilted his head at the camera in a way that made your stomach churn. Even behind his mask, you knew he was smirking and squinting his eyes in that way he did when he was playing coy. “Hello, Spiderman,” he said in a low, even voice. It sent chills crawling up your spine, made you struggle in his hold until his claws dug against your skin. “You and I have unfinished business, and it would be rude to leave hanging in the air - you know, before we both jump ship. You know where I am.” Behind you, the collider moved, and this time, it did not stop. A blast of energy exploded from the edge, shaking the building again. You stumbled slightly, raising a hand to clasp at his wrist over your mouth. “And just in case you need some incentive…”
You let out a small shriek when Ferris ripped you forward, sending you spinning around to face the camera. Before you could get anything out, he came up behind you like a vengeful apparition and grabbed your jaw, his claws digging into the soft skin of your cheeks. “Go on,” he murmured in your ear, just loud enough for the camera to pick up. “Cry for help. Cry for him.”
Against every ounce of willpower you had, because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, you felt tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. Just a moment later, they spilled over, cascading down your cheeks and staining the fabric of his glove. Yet despite your tears, despite the silent sobs racking your body, you refused to speak.
Ferris dug his claws into your cheek further, drawing a few dots of blood and pinpricks of searing pain. “Come on,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. “Beg for him.”
Your eyes turned behind the camera, where the Vulture held Gabriella’s collar in a grip tight enough to pale his knuckles. She stood beside him like a confused puppy, tear tracks staining her face as she watched you. And you knew you couldn’t do this alone. Not with her here. Not with Ferris.
“Spiderman,” you breathed, then cried out when Ferris yanked your hair to expose your neck and poise a claw over your throat. It gleamed in the light that the collider was throwing about the lab, shaking and burning out energy.
“Ah-ah,” he tutted. “His real name.”
You didn’t have time to mull over the realization that you were going to expose his identity, didn’t have time to think about that, really, it wouldn’t matter, because your reality was tearing apart, anyway. Blood collected on your cheek where his claws dipped in, and pain seared through your face.
“Miguel!” you finally wailed, feeling your tears mix with the scarlet. “Mig, we need you - please! He has Gabriella. I need you, please, Mig, I need you!”
With a grunt, Ferris spun you to the ground, then stalked forward and grasped the camera by the lens. “Come and get your girls, O’Hara. Alchemax. You have until the universe collapses. Or, you know…” He trailed off as his mask tilted downward toward you. “I decide to let one of them go a little early.”
You found yourself sitting against the row of desks holding computers, cradling Gabriella to your side as you watched Ferris and the rest of the vigilantes watch the collider charge, murmuring amongst themselves. You heard the words ‘sensors’ and ‘turrets’ and ‘muzzle for those teeth’ and ‘dead before he hits the ground.’ They had planned for Miguel, were waiting for him.
Gabriella murmured your name - the first thing she’d uttered since you both had been brought here - and you at once looked down. She clutched onto your dress, her cheeks stained with tear tracks and her chest rising and caving with deep, panicked breaths. “Is Daddy going to come and save us?” she whispered.
Doing your best to shove down the dread, and sorrow, and grief hanging suspended in your throat, you put on your best wobbling, warped smile and brushed her hair back from her face. “Yeah, sweetheart,” you replied quietly, just barely audible over the sounds of the collider. You sniffled, holding her closer. “He’ll be here any minute.”
It couldn’t have been just a few minutes later when, from the corner of your eye, you saw one of the computer screens jump to life. You thought it to be chance, a touchpad disturbed by the constant shaking and rattling of the building, but then images began to flash across the screen. You turned your head and realized they weren’t images, but letters. Words - being typed out across the monitor.
Letter by letter, your name was spelled out. The cursor blinked for a moment before everything was deleted. Then -
H E R E.
Your breath hitched in your throat as you leaned forward. The word was typed again, this time in bold. Then in italics. The computer - no, someone behind it - was beckoning you forward. With a few words of reassuring nonsense in Gabriella’s ear, and a quick glance to make sure the men were still distracted, you crawled on your hands and knees along the row of computers. Sitting up on your heels, you faced the dim screen.
Hesitantly, you whispered, “Hello?”
The word disappeared, soon replaced by another. L Y L A.
Lyla - Miguel’s AI. A surge of hope flooded through you like a tidal wave, filling your veins, your heart, your soul.
H E I S C O M I N G.
You exhaled, blinking at the screen. Then -
D U C K.
Your body reacted before your mind even had a chance to catch up. The entire world seemed to move in slow motion as you scrambled to your feet, grabbed Gabriella and huddled behind the desk - just moments before the back wall blew outwards in a ground-shaking eruption. The glass partition shattered and the collider shrieked as debris rained upon the observation area like hail from a hellstorm. A chunk of rock sliced across your cheek, letting pain rip through your face and blood spill down your face.
Like a train unable, unwilling to stop, to keep from plowing into the first thing it saw, a flash of red and blue came tearing from the site of the explosion and collided with the purple figure of the Prowler as he struggled to his feet. They went sprawling across the rubble-covered deck, only separated when a mechanical arm grabbed the back of Spiderman’s leg and hurled him across the room.
He caught himself and landed in a striking pose - then his mask dematerialized, and Miguel’s scarlet eyes raised to the men before him. He opened his mouth, exposing those long, glinting teeth, and released an animalistic snarl that froze the blood in your veins. His hair was mussed and the lines beneath his eyes seemed deeper than before. His hands, his claws, practically trembled with the rage and fury radiating off of him in waves. In that moment he was truly more beast than man.
You shielded Gabriella’s eyes as he snapped, standing again to his full height.
“About time,” said Ferris behind his mask, then readied his own steel claws. “Let’s settle this once and for all - Spiderman.”
The next few moments were blurs of violence, of villains with metal limbs and wings and a thirst for blood all came down to assault Miguel where he stood. He was a whirlwind of action, taking blows and giving them back in a tempo you knew was not humanly possible. His teeth sank into skin. His claws tore through muscle. He roared and thrashed and fought for everything he had, because life outside may have been falling apart, but his entire life was right there inside that observation bay.
Bits of light poking through the still-settling dust from the explosion drew your eye away from the nauseating fight, pulling your attention to the place where the door used to be. Flickering from the corridor - the exit.
Gripping Gabriella’s hand so tight you knew it ached, but you didn’t care, you brought your face close to hers so that she could look into your eyes. Blood still seeped down your cheek, now staining your collar and your neck. “Listen to me,” you said to her, just audible over the sound of her father snapping one of the Vulture’s wings in half. “We’re going to run, okay? And we’re not going to look back. You hold my hand and don’t let go. Just like we practiced with the drills at school, alright?”
She nodded her head, and then you were off. You ducked your head as a piece of technology sailed past, tugging the little girl along over rubble and through the shattered doorway. From there you took the first stairwell you found, listening as the sounds of the battle grew more and more faint. Up and up you went, until you reached a heavy metal door that you shoved open with all your might. Gusts of wind rushed in to greet you, whipping your dress skirt about, whispering about your fate in your ears, and when you reached the roof, it seemed that, really, they were right.
New York was no longer recognizable. It had turned into a hellsite of glitches and chaos, entire streets folding in on themselves before completely vanishing. You nearly screamed upon realizing Harlem, Queens, Brooklyn… they were all gone. From this height you could see past where the river was supposed to be, but instead it was all… nothing. There lay a vast, wide nothingness, like a blank canvas. No ground. No buildings. No people. Everything, just… erased from existence.
Panic rose in your throat like bile, pulling you to your knees and fresh tears to your eyes. It was all true - your reality was collapsing in on itself. All those people, gone. And soon, you would be, too.
It was a long moment before you realized Gabriella was tugging on your hand, attempting to pull you further along the roof as she kept her terrified gaze trained on the door to the roof - until it was too late. You both shrieked as the Prowler emerged from the frame, his suit ragged and torn, stained with blood and his mask vanished. Scarlet ran down his face, same as yours, as he approached you on the roof.
“You want to know something funny, babe?” he said. The last word, that awful pet name, was rasped through clenched teeth as he stalked you, taking his time even as you scrambled to the edge of the building, because you both knew - you had nowhere to go. “I wasn’t really going to kill you in that alley. Just wanted to scare you, ‘ya know?” His face dropped. “Now I really wish I had.”
In a moment, Ferris had pounced, rolling you over and over yourself on the roof of Alchemax, his clawed hands tight around your throat and his knees on either side of your waist. No matter how much you struggled, how much you kicked and screamed and wailed and bucked, he refused to let go.
How ironic, came a quiet, barely-there voice. Even while it dies, the universe is attempting to fix itself.
As tears blurred your vision, you shifted your gaze to Gabriella, who watched the life being strangled from you with wide, petrified eyes. To Gabriella, who suddenly clutched at her stomach, her lips parting. To Gabriella, who, slowly, like a channel stuck on a loop slowly fading out, began to dissolve into a reality-splitting glitch.
To Gabriella, who was there one moment, and gone the next.
For a moment, you stopped your struggling. You stopped trying to grasp at Ferris’ own throat, stopped your kicking and howling. You just lay there, feeling the life drain from you slowly, staring at the spot that little girl had been just seconds ago.
You would have cried, could you have breathed. You would have screamed, could you have breathed.
You would have died inside - could you have breathed.
“Isn’t this romantic?” panted Ferris over you as his hands tightened their grip on your throat. “The two of us, going out together? Like we were always meant to?”
You knew he would have killed you then and there, had you both not heard the thundering, storming, ground-shaking thuds pounding up the stairs leading to the roof. Footsteps. A body being slammed into the walls as they ran. An ear-splitting, heart-skipping roar of your name.
Ferris let out a long, trembling, exasperated groan before he yanked you up by the neck, hauled you over to the edge of the building, and held you out like a lure over a lake. Your hands, your nails, scrabbled at his wrist as you looked down the best you could, watching as people stories and stories below scrambled for cover before glitching out of existence. Your legs dangled, your hair blew in the wind.
This was it. This was how you bit it. Not from strangulation or being winked out of your reality - but from a drop that would hit you before you knew what had happened.
Slamming out onto the porch in a frenzy of raw, untamed, wild fury, Miguel skidded to a stop and began to lunge at the Prowler - before he laid eyes upon your form at the end of his arm. His gaze searched wildly for his daughter, for his Gabriella, before it met yours. Before it took in the tears spilling down your face.
“Don’t you see what you’ve done to us, O’Hara?!” said Ferris, flexing his fingers around the column of your neck - the only thing keeping you from plummeting. “What you’ve done to our world?! Can’t you just leave us this last bit of ourselves before we all kick it? Can’t you just leave us alone?”
Miguel began to pace on the rooftop, edging closer and closer with each step. “I can offer you a bargain,” he said, but his voice came out more snarl than word. “Give her to me and I send you home. To a different home, one just like this. You’ll never know the difference.” His tone dropped. “You’ll think you’re in the real thing.”
Your legs were beginning to go numb, your fingers clawing at Ferris’ wrist losing feeling. One hand dropped to your side.
Ferris shook his head, sneering at him with all the hatred left in this collapsing, dying universe. “You already took my world,” he said. “So I’ll take away yours.”
And suddenly you were falling. Released from his grasp, because in the split moment after he let you go, his body glitched and jumped and disappeared. But you were still there, plummeting toward what remained of the earth below you.
You didn’t think it would be so fast.
Craning your neck against the wind screaming in your ears, against the sight of the Alchemax building beginning to crumble as it, too, succumbed to the fate of all else, you watched as that familiar suit of red and blue jumped off after you. Extended his arm. Released a web that, you thought, wouldn’t get there in time.
But it did. The webbing clung to your chest, pulled taut, buoyed you like a bungee cord as Miguel stuck himself to the side of the building that was still standing. He slowly lowered you to the ground, then began the descent himself.
You stood. Extended a hand to him as he raced toward you.
Then fell as you lost the feeling in your legs, lost what it was to be still.
Miguel caught you before you hit the ground, skidding to his knees and gracefully pulling you into a cradle in his lap. “Hey, baby, hey,” he said in a strained, strangled voice. Red stained his temple, the crooked bridge of his nose. “Hey, I’m here. I’m right here.”
You realized then that you were crying again, letting sobs and wails rack your body, because you knew what was happening. You knew it because everything else of this world, of this reality, had vanished. Ceased to exist. It was just him, and you, and the sky overhead. Nothing else. And soon, you would be gone, too.
“Miguel,” you gasped, reaching up a shaky hand to paw at the side of his face. “Gabriella - I tried. I really, really tried, I’m sorry -”
“Shh, baby, I know. I know you did.” Through the wetness in your eyes, through the sensation of your lower portion becoming static and fuzz, you watched as tears pricked at his own eyes. They trickled from the corners, mixing with the grime and blood on his face, and he did not wipe them away. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
You cried and clung to him, desperate to hold onto the feeling of him. Of his hand cradling the back of your neck. Of his lips against yours. Of his body on your own. Of his laughter against your skin, and his fingers trailing across your back, and the warmth that spread through your chest when he smiled at you.
God, that smile. What you wouldn’t do to see it again.
“I don’t want to die, Mig,” you said, your voice wavering. You’d forgotten the feeling of your waist, of your belly. They were foreign to you. Glitched out. Going. Gone.
You did not jump when Miguel opened his mouth and released a stifled sob, his warm, salty tears dripping onto your face. “I know,” he shushed you through his own cries. “It’s going to be okay, alright? I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. You’re going to be okay.”
Arms dropped. Your chest stilled.
“Hey,” you said, nudging your nose against his when he leaned down to press his lips against your temple. He met your eyes, his forehead pressed against yours. “Look.” Your gaze tilted upward, upward, to the sky. He followed it. “No smoke.”
You were right. Without the buildings to churn out smog, without the people to feed the machines, without the universe to choke itself out… the sky had cleared. And it was not violet, or plum.
It was lilac.
Miguel dipped his head again, his lips quivering as you stared up at him. “I love you,” he said.
You would have said it back - were you not already gone.
He stared at his now-empty arms, eyes trained on the spot beneath him you had just been. There was no trace left. Nothing left behind, nothing to tell him you had even been there.
For a long, long moment, Miguel sat still, his chest heaving and his eyes wide and his lips parted. Then he dropped to all fours, shoulders shaking and knuckling the ground, and opened his mouth to scream. It was a wail heard in every corner of the empty universe, a cry that shattered everything of the nothing left. Filled with agony, and grief, and horror, and guilt. Again and again he screamed, fangs glinting and tears gleaming and throat hoarse.
When he at last could not take any more, he collapsed onto his side. Hands twitching. Chest shaking.
Nothing.
For a long while in that empty universe, it was still. Silent. Lilac.
Then, from behind Miguel, there came a voice. “Hey, boss,” said Lyla gently. “Ready to go home?”
Earth - 2943
New York
Roses, peonies, lilacs, irises… the bundles of flowers crowded your workstation at the back of your store like a wildflower field had grown right in the middle of the little shop on seventy-first. Greens and pinks and yellows and oranges filled your windows. Petals littered the floor like a chapel. Living walls carefully and lovingly-kept occupied the sides, a rainbow display of every flower and blossom one could name.
Your little flower shop was doing well - and you couldn’t have been more proud. You lived alone in your apartment just upstairs, your rent was on time, you didn’t have to work a second job at all to keep yourself fed.
Everything was perfect. As it should have been.
Your attention was drawn to the front of the store when the little bell above it chimed, signaling someone had just entered your shop. “One second!” you called around the corner, hurrying to clip off the remaining thorns from the blossoms. “I’ll be right there!”
When you were finished, you wiped your hands off on your apron, gathered the bunch of flowers up in your arms, and swept around to the front room. There, a man and a little girl - his daughter, no doubt, they looked almost identical - stood admiring the displays you’d set out just last night.
“Good morning!” you greeted them, carefully setting the bundle down. “Can I help you find anything?”
Brushing a bit of hair from your face, you were able to see the man more clearly. Your breath hitched in your throat; you were staring at the one of the best looking men you’d ever seen. Tan skin and cheekbones placed high on his face, full brows and lips, a sinewy body and a tapered waist… he was beautiful.
The man smiled at you - with his lips closed, but nevertheless it was gorgeous - and jutted out his hip to place his hand on. Oh, fuck, that was hot. “Just browsing,” he said kindly.
You found yourself unable to pull your gaze away from him. You could not say precisely what it was, but there was something that drew you to him. Like a magnet between walls, almost, yearning and needing to be closer.
When he realized you were staring, he smiled wider.
“Heh - sorry,” you said, shaking your head. You leaned over your counter as he meandered closer, letting his daughter marvel at your flowers. Up close, you were able to see the tired, exhausted lines beneath his eyes. “It’s just… have we met before? There’s just something about you…”
Unbeknownst to you, because he could never let you know, could never let you go… you had met before. In a different universe. In seven, to be precise. He had met you as a teacher, a stripper, a doctor, a thief, a hero, a villain… He’d seen you in every form your soul had to offer. And he would continue to do so. Because he wasn’t going to let you go.
Not then. Not now. Not ever.
He chuckled, his free hand reaching up to touch the delicate skin of his throat. “No, I don’t think so. First time in here.” He tilted his head, smiled at you. “But… I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better.” Then, like every other time before, and every other time that would come after, he stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Miguel. You are?”
tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick @natthernandez @bakgoktski @soupsexsunsalutationsss @roxannarichie @lovagirlxxx @soggyeyeballsss @yoyoyoyoyo55555 @sophipet @quaintii @lavnderluv @cookiezxx @euphorica @its-a-polyglot @nicalysm @maxi-ride @exzidss @crappwr0m @femme-is-dead @bitch-onthemoon @hier—soir @takayomi @kirke-is-my-name @d1lf-loverrr @might-be-a-rat @brooks-lin @maki-z @bookfreakk @act1839 @dollscircus @sleepingaway @anxietybutterfly @bioticboot @mxkn @freeingrebels @digitalcreature404 @aimee777 @hunnaye @blahbahed @cyanide-mustard @impettywhenyouare @mental-illness-is-my-friend @bobfood @jenniferdixon05207 @moonchild-cupcake @venomous-ko @marvelouslovely-barnes @syarblu @fruitcupsworld @soooooyesbutactually-no @hopefulcandywitch @elwyn7 @oh-theseus @thepanwiccan @takayomi @dreamingofbucky @yuuuumii @p1nkliquor @scammer-get-scammed @mlishe
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screamforyani · 10 months
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family ties
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pairing ↠ miguel o’hara x (f) reader
genre .. warnings ↠ angst, violence, recurring mentions of death and murder, shapeshifter!reader, non-spiderperson reader, enemies to lovers esque, parenting!au, neighbor!au
summary ↠ six years ago, your ex-fiancé and the father of your baby was killed in a fatal incident involving the head of alchemax. ever since then, you’ve devoted yourself to a life of crime to take care of your daughter. by day, you fall deeper in love with your neighbor, and by night, you come face-to-face with spider-man.
wc ↠ 14.5k
a/n ↠ most of this is set in mc’s universe so anything’s canon here. also miguel is 95% out of character so pls dont bug me about how untrue to the movie it is cuz idgaf i know he’s a miserable loser and thats why i want him
if anybody asked, you would tell them that doing a crime lord's bidding was nothing to write home about. it was assignment after assignment to keep a roof over your head and putting up with a nineteen-year-old (at least you think he's nineteen) with a reckless mouth. his tongue had gotten him into unimaginable trouble, that was for sure. not just him, but you. curse you for being benevolent enough to not let the poor kid die.
but on the other hand, it could sometimes be rewarding. sometimes.
the venue was sizeable and bustling with rich people. as expected, given the occasion. rod malone-fisk would be hosting an event with his daddy’s money, though most significantly, somewhere upstairs lodged their family’s priceless gemstone.
drawn to your partner’s chest, you could easily pass for a lovely rich couple eager to stuff yourselves full of expensive appetizers, which you had to subtly swat hobie’s hand to keep him from grabbing. he was sporting a tailored red suit to tone with your deep crimson gown, each of you donning masks to match (given that it was a masquerade). 
it was strangely foreign to see hobie outside of his typical punk fits. none of the boots and chains and leather jackets - which looked cool on him, not that you would ever admit it - though he still had his unshakable attitude.
your partner in crime scanned the menu with disdain. “have you seen the menu? what the hell is a beef bourguignon?”
“you butchered the shit out of that,” you told him none too politely, wincing at the horrid pronounciation. “and stop being a baby. i can make you something later if you want.”
hobie dramatically put his hand over his heart. “you know, you treat me like your own son.”
“somebody has to,” you mumbled under your breath.
hobie obviously heard that, and before he could make a comment that would more than likely blow your cover, marsai interrupted through your ear pieces, “um, guys?”
hobie, sobering, asked, “any updates, marsai?”
“i just hacked the surveillance system. as expected, the door to the diamond room has tight security. now, i can get you a distraction in roughly two hours, but the rest of the weight is yours to pull.”
marsai was your guy in the chair and that was her way of saying that she could get you both in, but she couldn’t get you out. 
“got it,” you said. 
for half an hour, you and hobie pretended to give a damn about what rodney had to offer, other than his father’s precious gemstones. even through the mask you could tell hobie was bored half to death by the monologue and the second it was over he didn’t hesitate to drag you to the dance floor.
the plan was etched into your memory. including the initial, backup, and safety plan. you were just waiting for marsai to give you the go-ahead. biding your time, one would put it. then you’d bolt upstairs, steal the gem, and book it.
this boring event being a test of your patience was your only concern. it gave you too much time to fret, to worry about what meadow was doing and if she was alright. of course, she’s alright, you thought to yourself. you left her in the most trustworthy of hands. nobody else would do.
“marsai, you’re killing me. it’s been fifty-leven hours,” hobie groaned impatiently for only you and the woman in his earpiece to hear.
you snickered tiredly and added in agreement, “give me any more chances to drink vodka and i might not be able to walk in a straight line. let alone carry out the mask.”
“okay, okay. give me, like, five minutes.”
devon, your getaway driver, tapped into the line and said, “hurry up. i’ve been waiting outside for like an hour.”
“only an hour?” you asked curiously. to be honest, he had been so silent that you’d forgotten he was even there. 
“oh, yeah. i got hungry and went for a burger.”
hobie snarled, voice dripping with obvious envy, “lucky you.”
you laughed.
not even a minute later, the fire alarms began to cry, alerting everyone about a potential fire. you immediately made a beeline for the stairs in spite of the crowd of people flocking towards the exit. you wanted to throw your stilettos over the railing and possibly hit rodney square in the head.
hobie was right behind you. the diamond was in a room down the hall on the far right end of the corridor. it was the perfect place to corner a potential thief.
you looked suspicious running the opposite direction as everybody else, but fortunately for you and your partner, everyone was too scared for their life to question you. even if they noticed, they sure as hell wouldn’t stop and ask why. not with their lives in jeopardy. 
marsai announced in your ears, “most of the security have evacuated their posts, but there’s a couple coming upstairs. they’re not far behind you.”
“i’ll take care of it,” hobie said without leaving much room for argument. he spared you one little look before spinning on his heels.
you drew your gun from the slit in your long gown and continued to pace down the hall, never stopping no matter what. time was most valuable in predicaments like this and you had very little. you needed to be calculated. 
there was no security guarding the door when you arrived. piece of cake, you thought to yourself smugly. and jotted down a mental note to definitely reward yourself with a sickly sweet desert after tonight. 
barging inside, you instantly spotted the gem and wasted not another second to swipe a tiny device from your thigh holster, hurling it at the glass case. it ruptured on impact, shattering on itself. you swiped the jewel and turned.
another voice spooked you and abruptly said, “thank you. i’ll take that.”
the stranger didn’t even let you get a word in before he was snapping the priceless gem out of your clutches, and in a blink, he was running for the door. it only took one glance for you to recognize your unexpected company as the masked vigilante known as spider-man. 
you hated that guy. kind of. on the one hand, you weren’t against him making new york city a safer place for your daughter, but on the other hand, all he did was get in the way of your work and you needed to be able to provide for her.
you aimed your weapon, but spider-man was quick to smoothly slip to the side, quite literally dodging a bullet without even turning around once. “nice shot,” he taunted, pursuing his escape unscathed.
hot on his heels, your stilettos clicked loudly against the cool marble floor. spider-man couldn’t even made it out the door before you were on him, sending him off of his feet. he swore under his breath but never dropped the gem, and you feared he would destroy it with with his grudging clasp. before you could move again, he stole your gun no longer strapped to your thigh, grabbing it with his webs and tossing it across the room.
“how clever,” you snarled, snatching the gem and running the opposite direction.
the masked self-proclaimed superhero charged after you with featherlight, nimble steps that you matched with a graceful agility. you didn’t bother to try to take back your weapon, because you weren’t aiming to wound or maim and there was no need for a body count. 
the two of you danced around the broken case, careful not to slip in glass shards. it reminded you of children playing tag. with you holding the weapon now, you were undoubtedly it.
spider-man pranced around the glass, walking in a circle. he could have easily taken you down and he knew it. he was bigger than you, quicker than you, and stronger than you, but he didn’t particularly want to use his strength on you.
“i don’t want to hurt you,” admitted spider-man in a way that almost came off as a warning. he was stepping around you in the way someone would walk around a sleeping dragon.
you scoffed, “oh, don’t worry, baby. you won’t.”
the feeling was not mutual. you promptly grabbed some glass shards in your black gloves - never taking your eyes off of him - and chucked them his direction. the stranger missed them narrowly, dancing out of their way. you had to give credit where credit was due. this human spider was better than any opponent before him.
in the second it took him to skate out of harm’s way, spider-man inched closer to you, enough for the diamond to be at arm’s length of his body. you slid, the jewel taking to the air. he smoothly caught you and the diamond in his arms all in the same breath, and your shock granted him a few seconds leeway for escape.
for a second, you were too stunned to take action. then, you noticed he was getting away and it wore off as quickly as it came, with you right behind him. 
you took off one of your stilettos and chucked it towards him with superhuman speed like a weapon, and he swore again, whirling around quickly enough to catch the other one before it could strike him too. “woman, you’re insane,” he hissed, eyeing you darkly as you approached him.
“i’ve heard that one before,” you teased, eyes still on the prize. “do better.”
you reached for his mask and he quickly caught your hand before you could reveal his identity, though with your spare hand you snatched the jewel while he was off guard and made a beeline for the exit, your bare feet slapping against the floor. jesus fucking christ, where the hell was hobie when you needed him?
spider-man flung the broken glass case in front of the door with his webs in a final attempt to prevent you from fleeing, immediately giving chase. it was too bad that you had already suddenly shifted towards the window, making him stop short of the broken shards, and stood at the edge of the tall window with the gem pressed to your bosom.
“this has truly been fun, spidey,” you told him, just as you fell out of the window. 
and he would have caught you. he would have stopped going easy on you, would have wrapped this tango up if it weren’t for the fact that you were nowhere to be found. he peered out of the window and saw nobody falling to their death. he crawled up the building and swung from place to place, but it was like you had disappeared in the shadows.
literally.
crawling undetected across the gloomy crevices of the building before taking to the air, you made it to the other side of the building and to the getaway car.
hobie was sitting in the backseat and was baffled when he heard the gem drop just before he saw a jet-black raven that he recognized as your go-to bird identity. “oh, hey,” he said coolly. “how’d it go?”
you transformed back into your original form and hobie glanced away. it was never a process he wanted to look at. not some perfectly animated transition like in the movies. you ignored him and said, “devon, drive.”
“it’s about time,” devon said, speeding off.
“my bad. i had a surprise guest,” you droned, massaging the balls of your feet while hobie placed the gem in the front seat and even wrapped the seatbelt around what would’ve been its chest if it had one. which wasn’t the most brilliant idea, given that rodney was definitely going to report it missing and though the windows were tinted, the roof of the car was down.
devon pushed, “as in?”
“as in spider-man,” you replied coolly. jesus, your feet were killing you. marsai should not have let you walk around in stilettos for hours. no matter the reward of your sacrifice.
hobie was none too pleased by the intervention. “how in the hell did he know we were going to be there?”
you could see devon’s baffled face from the rear-view mirror. “that’s something to have marsai follow up on.”
you shook your head, bemused and engrossed in thought. your first encounter with spider-man. how exciting. “he caught me when i was about to fall even after i threw glass at him.”
“you were about to fall?” hobie asked, amused. “what is it you always say? never get caught slipping? you quite literally-”
“never get caught slipping. i know. thanks,” you finished, finally clicking your seatbelt into place. 
“aw, shit. she’s in love with spider-man,” devon quipped, earning a sharp glare from the backseat.
hobie laughed. obnoxiously. 
“can you guys shut the hell up already?” you hissed. “i’m just surprised. he treated me better than the two of you even as i came for his life.”
“alright. don’t call us when he throws you in a prison cell,” hobie said blankly.
you rolled your eyes.
the drive was longer than usual because devon wanted to ensure that there were no cops tailing him, aimlessly coasting around town for a while until ultimately taking a very elusive route to your house where he eventually dropped off you and hobie, who didn’t hesitate to remind you about that dinner offer.
when you opened the door to your house, you barely even stepped inside before meadow forwent her coloring book and ran over to you, shouting, “mommy!”
“hey, baby,” you said, watching her short arms wrap around your leg. “how was your day?”
“it was fun. tt took me to the park and she said we can go again tomorrow!” meadow exclaimed giddily, literal stars in her eyes. nothing made you more soft than the sight of your baby girl at the end of a long day.
“that sounds like loads of fun,” you told meadow, gently patting her back.
meadow went to hobie next, calling out for him, and he picked your almost six-year-old daughter up in his arms. “‘ey up, cheeto. did you make any friends at the park?”
cheeto was the nickname hobie had given your daughter four years back after he saw her eating a bag of cheetos. for whatever reason, it just stuck. everyone called her that, even you every now and then.
“i did,” meadow said, noticably less enthusiastic than before. and it took a lot to get your daughter down in the dumps. she was just so full of life and you wanted her to hold onto that innocence for as long as she could. “but there was this bully. he wouldn’t let me get on the swings.”
that got hobie’s attention, as well as yours. he sat her back down, flexing his muscles and making punching motions. “what? do you want me to handle him for ‘ya? look, i learned some new moves.”
meadow was her giggly self again, watching hobie box the air. 
you, on the other hand, were not happy. you crouched to be eye-level with her and said gently, “if there’s somebody bothering you, cheeto, i can always talk to their parents.”
“that won’t be necessary,” came another voice, and you quickly glanced up to see your best friend of many years, lani lee. she was also the one and only person you trusted to babysit your daughter, although you would consider letting hobie watch her for forty-five minutes maximum. “i already talked to the little boy and his parents. he won’t be bothering her any more. i made sure of it.”
“what would i do without you,” you said, standing up to pull your best friend in for a hug while hobie entertained meadow. 
“die of paranoia, probably.”
you rolled your eyes, though she wasn’t wrong. it eased your nerves a lot bit to know your daughter was under the watchful eye of someone like a sister to you. you pulled back, noticing she had her purse in hand, and asked, “you aren’t staying for dinner?”
“oh, no. i can’t. i have a… date,” lani said, the fleeting pause and her constant awkward glimpses between you and meadow making her implications obvious. 
hobie, who also got the memo, snickered. “a date, you say?” 
“stay out of grown folk’s business,” you and lani said simultaneously. 
“mind you, i’m nineteen! i can drink!”
“in london, yes. in brooklyn, no,” you said under your breath, almost hoping he didn’t hear you. you weren’t inclined to have this conversation for the umpteenth time.
“well, i’m gonna head out. you kids have fun,” lani said, slipping out of the house before hobie could make a quip. 
instead, hobie turned to you and asked, “yo, mind if i crash here for the night?”
“you know you can stay whenever you want, hobie,” you told him, heading to the kitchen to prepare dinner. 
“sweet. i’m going to go settle down and i’ll watch cheeto while you cook.”
that’s sweet of him, you thought. you acknowledged him with a nod and immediately washed your hands.
after steaming up the kitchen and donning a more casual outfit you called the youngins out for dinner. hobie, the gentleman he was, helped you set the table and the three of you ate dinner together as if you were one big family. you didn’t mind it. usually, meadow was fed and asleep by the time you got back from work, so you warmed up whatever lani had cooked and ate alone. if lani had time, she’d stay to chitchat, but what was even more rare was you getting home early enough to eat dinner with your daughter.
you made sure lani had whatever resources she needed to take care of meadow and herself. she insisted that you didn’t need to compensate her, but you didn’t care. you couldn’t thank her enough for stepping in when you couldn’t be there like you wanted.
meadow got sleepy after dinner, like she usually did after eating, and you tucked her in, whispering, “goodnight. mommy loves you very much.”
“goodnight. i love you, too. very much,” meadow said sleepily, snuggling her favorite stuffed animal. it was a dragon named cheeto junior, much to your amusement.
you giggled, pressing a kiss to her forehead and turning on her nightlight before shutting the door behind yourself.
then, you grabbed a plate you’d set aside and wrapped up and you even made a total of twenty steps to the front door before hobie appeared out of nowhere - you could of swore he was washing the dishes a minute ago - and asked nosily, “is that for the miguel guy you’re crushing on?”
“jesus fucking christ, hobie. i’m not crushing on him,” you said, maybe a little in denial. sitting at the table eating dinner with someone other than your shadow made your chest hurt, which factored into the denial. “he just helps out a lot. mows the yard and… stuff.”
“and stuff,” hobie repeated with air quotes, because apparently you needed an echo, as if you weren’t loud enough. “that’s rubbish.”
you groaned, “look, i’m just repaying the favor. not that that’s any of your business. go to sleep, kid.”
hobie threw up his hands, mumbling, “fine, fine. but only because i’m knackered.”
you slipped out the front door, somewhat antsy, not that you would ever admit it. you just got all jittery around miguel for whatever reason. maybe it was because he was attractive, which you had no problem admitting. very attractive.
you remembered the first time meeting him. 
it was a saturday and you were cleaning the kitchen, scrubbing down every surface and wiping every dish clear of stains and clearing out the fridge. you’d only taken your eyes off your daughter for a second before you looked back up and noticed her absence. 
your heart immediately sank with panic. “meadow?” you called out. 
no answer.
you had to have flipped over the entire living room and been on your way to her bedroom before you realized the front door was more than a little cracked just as you passed by the foyer, impenetrable fear spreading through your body like wildfire.
you immediately stepped outside of your house, frantically calling out, “meadow!”
“is this who you’re looking for?”
you spun around eighty degrees, spotting meadow walking through your yard with your neighbor. you sighed out in relief, rushing over to swoop your baby girl in your arms. “sweetheart, i’m so glad you’re okay,” you told her. then, you your tone turned chastising. “don’t you ever leave this house again without me or tt, you hear me?”
meadow looked confused for a split-second, but seeing your brows furrowed with worry and your features tensed with panic, she seemed to have understood that she had messed up somewhere along the line. “‘m sorry, mama.”
you sat her down, noticing the dollar bill in her hand. “now where on earth did you get that?”
“i asked mr. o'hara if i could have a lollipop but he said it’s very bad to take food from strangers, so he gave me a dollar.”
that was when your vision panned to your next-door neighbor, miguel o’hara, who was standing there with a small smile on his face. your eyes were watering and you tried not to let them fall, repeatedly telling him, “thank you.”
miguel shook his head, a palm flat on his hips. “it’s no problem. i just wanted to make sure the little girl got back home safe.”
ever since that moment, you’d been extremely grateful for miguel. to say nothing of the fact that he did a bunch of yard work out of the sheer kindness of his heart. he insisted multiple times that he didn’t need any reward, but you had to argue. there was a chance you might not have ever seen meadow again had he not brought her back to you. if you lost your daughter, you would have nothing left.
so, your idea of compensation happened to be food, which miguel didn’t mind at all. you loved to cook. you used to cook all of the time, every meal from breakfast to dinner.
that was a while ago, though. standing on his front door now with a hot plate in hand, you tried desperately not to go down memory lane. 
not too long after, miguel opened the door and spotted you standing in his doorway. “good evening.”
“good evening, miguel. this is for you,” you said with a polite smile, extending the plate. 
“thank you,” he said graciously, accepting the food with a matching smile. “may i ask what for?”
you didn’t really know the answer yourself. the yard had already been mowed and there didn’t seem to be any other issues that lani couldn’t take care of herself. “just in case you were hungry or something. but if you’re not, you can always save it later.”
“i’m starving,” miguel replied, smiling with his eyes. they were beautiful. much like the rest of him, you might add. his broad shoulders and dark hair and the way his muscles poked out of his t-shirts.
“well, then. that solves that,” you said with a laugh. “have a goodnight, mr. o’hara!”
“you, too!”
miguel watched you back off his doorway, just until he was certain you were safely back in your house. you could feel his eyes on you like a sixth sense, but didn’t dare turn around, shutting your front door behind you.
“you’re seriously telling me you weren’t checking him out?” came hobie’s voice from your couch. 
rather than startle, you took off one of your slippers and said, “you have until the count of five. one, two, three-”
“c’ya,” hobie said, darting down the hall. 
you shook your head and let out a sigh.
EARLIER THAT DAY…
miguel shook his head and heaved a breath. 
peter, who had taken a kind of passion to his job, was none too thrilled by the news. “you let a thief wanted in forty-two counties get away?”
“forty-three,” lyla chirped.
miguel glared, on the verge of letting out an animalistic roar. normally, this would be something miguel yelled at the others about, so it was a very unwelcome change of pace. “we have a back-up plan,” miguel reminded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i’ve got it under control.”
“you sure that you’ve got it under control?” gwen asked, definitely pushing miguel’s buttons in ways that she shouldn’t have. “and not-”
“stop,” miguel hissed. “everyone go. i need to be alone.”
nobody wanted to contend with that tone, so gwen dragged miles out of the room in case miguel decided to take his anger out on him, with peter quickly following. jessica stayed behind, closing the door behind them, and lyla was, well… a computer.
miguel really did have a plan, because of course he did, he was never without one. in fact, not having a plan to follow made him lose his mind. so it was safe to say it wasn’t the fact that his mission had failed that was making him upset. it was you.
“hey,” jessica said, brushing his shoulder. “what’s on your mind?”
“i’m fine,” miguel said a little more harshly than intended, though it was to be expected with him. 
jessica snickered, putting her hands on her hips. “well, when you say it with that mean ‘ole tone of yours, i know you’re lyin’.”
look at him. a grown man sulking. it was hilarious, not that jessica would say that aloud. right now.
not too many people knew the actual plan. jessica knew. lyla knew, because of course she did, but miguel deliberately told the others that the plan was to catch you because you were a threat to the multiverse. which was the half truth, but the part about you potentially destroying the multiverse was just feeder for the birds. he didn’t want them to ruin things.
in reality, he did intend to catch you, but not because you were going to destroy the multiverse. he wanted you to help them save it. he’d been watching you for a while now, gauging your power. battling you for the first time was merely a test. he could have taken you down in no time if he wanted, left you for the cops to grab, but that would only put a dent in his plans.
miguel had seen what you could do. now, he was ready to bring you in.
TWO WEEKS LATER…
you were running, a bit more comfortably than last time considering this thiefing ordeal didn’t require you to wear painfully long heels and a dress with a huge slit down the front. just your typical mask. you burst out of the door that led to the rooftop, heaving, given that you’d just ran up what felt like fifty flights of stairs.
you were just about to shapeshift into your signature jet-black raven until you felt something stick at your feet and realized you couldn’t move. glancing down, you saw red webs, and threw your head back with a groan. not good for takeoff, you thought, in spite of the fact that you absolutely could not get caught. maybe you could still fly, but if the webs got stuck to your feathers, it was game over.
spider-man emerged from the shadows of night, moonlight glimmering on his suit. “going somewhere?”
“well, not anymore, looks like,” you grumbled, irritated. 
little did the police know, you had already dropped off the stolen item. so you would still get your next paycheck. though the expenses for having to get you out of jail could’ve potentially taken a toll on it, depending on how benevolent your boss was feeling.
spider-man chuckled, approaching you. “what did you steal this time? an emerald? a ruby?”
“wouldn’t you like to know?” you hissed.
“you got me there,” replied spider-man, although there was a kind of arrogance in his tone that really pissed you off. “i’m not letting you get away this time.”
you cackled, almost like a witch. “you can deter me, spider-man, all you want,” you told him, trying to break out of the webs, but to no avail. “but i’m unstoppable.”
spider-man took one look at you, struggling to free yourself from your restraints, and cackled. “here. let me help.”
you sucked in a breath when his talons started to protrude from the tips of his fingers, but they were gone after the mere three seconds it took for him to slash the thread of string to bits. you stepped back an inch, as if you were testing your freedom. then, you threw him a baffled look behind your mask. there was no reason why the same man trying to catch you just set you free. unless it was a trap.
now was your moment. you could have shapeshifted and been on your merry way, but something told you to stay put. just for now, as if you were going to miss something. 
“i think she went up here, boss!”
hearing those voices, your first instinct was to take flight, but spider-man had different plans and you quietly gasped when he shoved you behind a wall, placing a sheathed hand over your mouth. it was the only part of your mask that wasn’t covered. breathing issues.
there were footsteps. you glanced at spider-man, who was looking at you. the two of you said nothing, but there had to have been a billion thoughts warring through your mind and they each blurred into each other. 
“don’t move a muscle,” spider-man growled, stepping from behind the wall and approaching the police. for whatever reason, you listened, despite the fact that you should have fled while you still had the opportunity. some nerve this guy had telling you what to do.
spider-man donned his friendliest tone, greeting, “everything alright, sheriff?”
“we got a tip that a woman ran this way,” the sheriff said, glancing around the rooftop. now would probably be a great time to shapeshift into a chameleon. or literally any small critter.
“i didn’t see a woman. i can assure you it’s just me up here,” spider-man said, scratching his head. “but i can help you find her.”
the sheriff seemed to mull it over, from the brief pause you noticed him take, but ultimately responded, “no, no, that’s okay. you do enough around here, spider-man. we’ve got this one.”
“alright. you have a good night, sheriff.”
your eyes flickered, hearing the footsteps of the sheriff and his team fade. did spider-man just protect you - again?
“why did you do that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him from behind your mask. you didn’t like this guy, if it wasn’t obvious enough. you felt like he was trying to get you off guard, and that made you dig in your heels even more.
“because if anyone’s gonna turn you in, it’ll be me,” spider-man said in a low tone, cornering you against the wall and trapping you in front of his chest. “i want to take you down all by myself.”
you snickered. that had to have been the most amusing thing you’d heard all day. you placed your hands on his shoulders, purring, “really now? you think you can take me down?”
“i know i can,” he told you, his words whispering to you with the rustling of the wind. “and i will.”
“hm,” was all you said, bringing one of your hands down his chest. he sounded so certain. 
spider-man cocked his head. you couldn’t see, obviously, but there was a little grin dancing on his lips. “do you touch every guy like this or am i special?”
“i loved a man once,” you told him. not that it was any of his business. you cloaked the wistfulness in your voice with sultriness. “didn’t end too well for either of us.”
spider-man paused, like he was surprised by the sudden confession, but wasted no time to recover. “is that why you’re here?”
you chewed your lip. he was right on the money. “i’m here because i choose to be.”
“but if you had the chance to be something else, something… better,” spider-man started, tracing your lip with his concealed thumb. “you would take it, right?”
of course, you would. those kind of opportunities just weren’t something everybody was fortunate enough to have. you had it all and then you lost it in the blink of an eye, watching it all crumble before your feet. if you were being honest, you were cheating death.
“i guess we’ll never know,” was all you said before breaking out of his arms and jumping off of the building. 
spider-man watched you, but he knew you would be alright even before he saw the raven come up and disappear into brooklyn’s dark evening sky and he couldn’t tell you apart from a star.
THE FOLLOWING DAY…
with your line of work, you had quite a few days off. but that was because you didn’t have a fixed schedule, which was a blessing and a curse wrapped into one. when your boss called, you answered. even if it meant having to haul ass out of bed at four in the morning.
today was one of those days off. you insisted lani didn’t need to do anything, sending her money to make sure she was set since she was basically your daughter’s full-time babysitter. you made meadow breakfast, dropped her off at school, and went back home. 
thinking about meadow and if she was safe always made you nervous. since you could afford it these days, you enrolled her in a private school. it didn’t hurt, even if she hates the uniform at first. you just wanted to decrease the chances of something bad happening to her.
miguel was on his front porch when you pulled into the driveway, your houses not significantly far from each other. every now and then, you let your eyes wander, and then you let your mind wonder why a man as fine as himself lived all alone.
“hey,” miguel said, waving you over. “you’re home early.”
“so are you,” you replied, shocked that he was home. this was a man that worked a typical nine-to-five, so he should have been gone longer than you, technically speaking. though he did tend to disappear often. “i admit i was a little curious when i saw your car still parked when i went to drop meadow off.”
“off day,” was all miguel said, flashing you a full set of teeth. jesus fucking christ, this man had a mesmerizing smile. “what are your plans for today, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“oh, you know. just catching up on sleep and throwing something on the stove,” you told him offhandedly. like any other working individual on their day off, you just wanted to rest. “there’s nothing like a nap on a full stomach. what about you?”
miguel rubbed his nape. “well, i was going to do some extra paperwork and some work around the house, but your plan sounds better than mine.”
you chortled, because you couldn’t even politely disagree. “in that case, you can always come over, if you’d like. no one’s home but me and i don’t bite.”
though you didn’t realize until it was too late, miguel had gotten very close to you. you could feel his warmth on your skin, although your bodies didn’t touch. his arm was just shy of yours. “no, no. i couldn’t,” he said. 
you waved him off. “of course, you could. you’re not a parasite, miguel. we both give to each other.”
“are you sure it’s okay?”
“positive. we’re both grown adults. you don’t need anyone’s permission but mine to come over to my house, you know,” you joked.
miguel visibly mulled it over, his brows furrowed in deep thought, almost as though he thought you were going to eat him or something. but then he bobbed his head and said, “sounds like a good time.”
you broke into a smile that you hadn’t made in years, leading miguel to your house. ironically, it was the first time he had been inside. you hadn’t had any indoor issues that you or lani couldn’t take care of on your own so far, which meant he stuck to yardwork. foolishly, you were a little nervous.
“tidy,” miguel remarked while he followed you to your kitchen. you didn’t see the way he smiled at the tiny pairs of shoes on the rack in the foyer. he noticed that there were a lot of pictures of meadow hanging around, ranging from when she was a mere infant until now.
“very. thank god for lani. i used to think i was a good, but that woman is a different breed of clean,” you said after washing your hands, grabbing a bunch of ingredients from your cabinets and refrigerator. 
miguel observed from behind your island, leaning up against it. “you two seem very close.”
“i trust her with my life. and my daughter’s life. she’s like a sister to me,” you told him, smiling. for a split-second, miguel swore he saw something wistful. “she almost was.”
“almost?”
“almost,” you whispered, plopping a bag of peppers onto the counter. 
miguel didn’t press. if you wanted to talk about it, you would. the two of you weren’t exactly close, no matter how blurry the lines between just friends and neighbors had gotten over the years.
reading the room, miguel expertly shifted the subject, “what are you making?”
the stars were back in your eyes as you gushed, “it’s a family recipe. my mother used to make it all the time. i feel bad now for complaining about how much she did when i was a kid. it’s mouthwatering perfection.” you deliberately left out the part that you felt bad because you would never get the chance to eat her food again.
“i hear you,” miguel replied, watching you cut the peppers. he didn’t like how sharp the knife was. “let me help.”
you brushed him off. “it’s fine. sit down.”
“i wasn’t asking,” miguel said sternly, his feet already moving. 
you blinked. “oh. okay.”
miguel maneuvered around the island, grabbing your waist while he walked past you, which admittedly made butterflies flutter in your gut. you chided them, begging them to keep the excitement to a minimum, but it was no use when you saw miguel had rolled up his sleeves and taken the knife out of your hands.
you pretended to look at the vegetables, though it couldn’t have been more obvious that you were watching his bare, exposed forearms and the taut muscles tense with his every movement. then, reminding yourself that there were other things you could have been doing, you tried to concentrate on the meat.
absentmindedly working, your thoughts were still on his arms, though for more chaste reasons. there were some lingering scratches on his skin, like he’d gotten into a fight or two. you wondered if he was taking care of himself. 
something particularly paralyzing hit you when you realized that that was all you could do - wonder. you didn’t really know miguel, nor did he know you, and you had long convinced yourself that it was better that way. you kept your family a distance from others until they bared their souls to you.
miguel was different. there was an air of familiarity to his presence. like he had half a soul that was completed by yours.
after forty minutes of what felt like reckless conversation featuring the two of you cooking instead of the other way around, lunch was ready and it was noon. you offered miguel wine and chattered over a meal and through your wine drunk haze. 
good thing he only lived next door.
“you know, you cook the best food i’ve ever tasted,” miguel told you, not a single sign of insincerity on his face. 
you perked up, glancing at him from across the dining table. what a kind gentleman he had been, refusing to let you set the table. or carry the dishes over. “really?”
“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t mean it,” he said. “such great flavor.”
“thanks,” you chirped, breaking into a broadening grin. “i’ve been hoping to pass it down to meadow so that the legacy doesn’t die. she loves watching me cook. her grandmother would be proud.”
miguel cocked a brow. “no other family?”
you shook your head, fidgeting with the near-empty wine glass now that you’d finished your meals. “nope. my mother was single, my father is god knows where, so it was just me and her for the longest. and you know how i said lani was almost my sister?”
“mm-hm,” miguel hummed, brows furrowed as a sign he was listening deeply. 
you sucked in a breath. you had never admitted this to anyone before. “she was my fiancé’s sister. he, uh, yeah. work incident. six years ago.”
miguel’s features softened, the ache on your face conspicuous. hurt recognized hurt. he grabbed your hand from underneath the table, gave it a gentle squeeze, and said, “i’m sorry that happened.” 
“me, too,” you mumbled.
you deliberately left out the part that you were involved in that incident. it was a dinner at alchemax with the man you were about to start a family with and his boss, who had sent the rest of the company home. you wished you would have seen it coming, wished you would have known your drinks were spiked before your almost husband sipped from that glass.
the dosage had killed him, but mutated your dna. you should have died. it was a miracle your unborn baby at the time survived. instead, you turned into a shape-shifting entity, a mere test subject.
though there weren’t any signs, you were always wary, wondering if meadow had been affected by the dosage, but the doctors declared her very healthy at birth and during checkups.
“i lost my family, too,” miguel confessed, much to your and his mutual surprise. “i wasn’t always a lonely old man. i had a wife and a daughter.”
that piqued your interest. “have you looked again?”
“have you?”
that was fair. “no,” you said. not particularly, came a voice in your head, but you didn’t let it speak. “mainly because i have a daughter. i’m careful who i bring into her life. and with work, i don’t have the time to do background checks on who i date.”
“you’re a good mother,” miguel said after a moment or two. “meadow is lucky to have you.”
you smiled gently. “i like to think so.”
minutes of conversation turned into hours with miguel, but you didn’t forgo your plans of napping. almost the second you put on the movie, both of you were fast asleep, your head on his shoulder. 
when you woke up again, your head had fallen to his chest and his arm was tightly secured around your waist like a seatbelt. it wasn’t time to pick up meadow, you had set a time just in case you got a little too distracted, but you noticed a text from lani insisting that she would drop your daughter off since she was in the area of her school and wanted you to rest.
for a little while, you let yourself wallow in the feeling of miguel’s warmth and the sound of his soft snores. it wasn’t very often that you actually let yourself enjoy things.
you were too paranoid. too vigilant. it was nice to put your guard down for a second.
the doorbell rang after a while and you felt miguel’s arm flex protectively around you. he was awake.
“it’s lani. she dropped off meadow,” you whispered, feeling his protective grip slacken. your heart fluttered at how instinctively cautious he was over you.
standing to your feet, you opened the door and greeted your daughter. you made small talk with lani at the door before she said she had places to be and drove off. 
“hi, mr. o’hara,” greeted meadow when she entered the living room, plopping on the couch to watch cartoons. 
“hey, cheeto,” miguel greeted gruffly, sitting up. “you don’t have any homework to do?”
“nope,” meadow said, popping the p. “we don’t have homework on friday’s.”
“oh, silly me,” miguel said, making you poorly stifle a laugh.
meadow giggled, too. 
miguel cocked his head at you, standing beside him, leaning against the arm of the chair. “who are you laughing at?”
you raised your arms defensively. “nothing.”
“i said,” miguel started, donning a playfully monster-like tone, probably for meadow’s amusement. you gasped when he switched your positions, though he was rather gentle when he pushed you into the couch. “who are you laughing at?”
when his fingers started to dance over your skin, you couldn’t even get the words out, convulsing in a fit of giggles as he tickled you and pressed you for answers. you squirmed and writhed, laughing uncontrollably.
“meadow,” you called out for help, but she simply covered her ears and kept her eyes glued to the television screen for all the times you tickled her. but you saw her lips twitch into a mischievous grin.
there was almost tears in your ears at this point. miguel’s fingers were merciless, almost killing you with how much they made you laugh. 
“oh my god, miguel, quit it…,” you chanted, your cheeks hurting. 
“what’s the magic word?”
“stop.”
“wrong answer.”
“please,” you blurted, a line of tears rolling down your face as you writhed beneath him. “please!”
miguel let up, at last pulling back from your frame as your chest heaved and you tried to catch your breath. meadow lifted up her hand and high-fived miguel, both of them looking like nothing but trouble.
miguel plopped back on the couch, asking, “are you okay?”
“i almost pee’d myself,” you admitted through ragged breaths. 
both miguel and meadow laughed. 
once you could breathe again, you called meadow into the kitchen for an after school snack since she insisted that she wasn’t very hungry. “mom,” she called out, standing beside you. “a boy told me he liked me at school today.”
any other parent would have had a heart attack, but you knew your daughter well enough, and asked expectantly, “and what did you say?”
“that he’s icky,” she told you with a straight face. 
you snickered in amusement. “atta girl.”
“do you like mr. o’hara?”
now that almost gave you a heart attack, but you feigned some kind of semblance of calm, asking, “what makes you think that?”
“it just looks like it,” meadow chirped, but she was quick to get distracted by the snacks in the pantry and asked for a blueberry muffin.
but that was the million dollar question. did you like miguel o’hara?
THE NEXT DAY IN DOWNTOWN BROOKLYN…
“it’s about time you got here,” was the first thing hobie said when you arrived at the warehouse.
the abandoned warehouse was rusty and run-down, and it wasn’t too much of a leap to make that it hadn’t been used in years. you swore you saw a critter scurry away upon your entrance.
“hello to you too, hobie,” you greeted levelly. “cutting to the chase, where’s michael fontana? you didn’t leave a live body alone, did you?”
hobie scoffed, “ay, do i look like an amateur to you? follow my lead.”
you followed hobie through the warehouse littered with clutter, boxes cast aside that were presumably filled with old junk and spiders. the job was supposed to easy. tie the guy up, press him for answers, and relay the information. it could have been a one-person job, but your boss preferred having multiple witnesses.
hobie’s fingers curled around a doorknob, turning it and pushing the door open. but the room was void of life. your brows furrowed, glancing up at hobie, uttering, “there’s nobody here…”
you screamed when you felt somebody grab you from behind, assuming it was an escaped michael fontana. this is why you don’t hire nineteen-year-olds, you thought grumpily to yourself.
struggling in his arms, you shouted to your partner, “hobie, the gun!”
hobie didn’t move a muscle, much to your shock, shooting you an apologetic wince. “sorry, mate. it’s nothing personal. i actually like you,” he said. “but boss’ order.”
you glanced back, the sting of brutal betrayal settling in with the mind-numbing realization that the person grabbing you wasn’t michael fontana.
before you could shapeshift, you felt a needle poke your arm and hissed, just a grand total of seconds before your body went slack and the world around you vanished.
when you regained consciousness, the first thing you noticed was how bright it was in whatever room you were in, sunlight filtering through the blinds. the second thing you noticed was that your hands were cuffed behind the back of whatever chair you were now sitting in, followed by the pain flaring through your right arm. 
glancing around, you opened your winced eyes. an interrogation room with an outdoor window. that was a first.
“she’s awake!” you heard someone calling out, craning your head to spot two teenagers. if you had to guess, they didn’t look over seventeen. the boy waved, but the girl tugged his hand back down.
they must have heard someone coming, but they moved out of the way, letting them cross the threshold between their room and yours, the door already open. like they knew for certain that there was no way you could escape.
spider-man came to sit in front of you, across from you. your last memory was of him standing behind you. you narrowed your eyes, sneering, “you.”
you didn’t wonder how he knew who you are, remembering hobie had betrayed you. he must have been ratting you out for the longest. marsai had been looking into how spider-man seemingly always knew when and where you’d strike, but found nothing. you guessed you had your answer.
“not me,” spider-man said, deactivating his mask. “me.”
shock paralyzed you, not that you could move very much in the first place. this had to be some kind of dream. or, better yet, a nightmare. “miguel?” you gasped.
it all made sense now. the disappearances at random hours of the day and ungodly hours of the night. the scratches and bruises you sometimes noticed on his skin, and lord knows you hadn’t even seen half of them. it was because he was out fighting evil, out fighting you. 
“i’m not your enemy,” miguel said, his voice stern like it had been in your kitchen.
“yes, because only my ally would set me up, drug me, and cuff me to a chair,” you droned, voice dripping with sarcasm.
you shifted as much as you could,  uncomfortable at the thought of being drugged. the last time it happened, you lost a fiancé, the future you always wanted, and - on the brink of death - turned into a shape-shifting creature. you were also a little hurt, not that you would show it on the surface. you’d trusted miguel, even liked him, much to your daughter’s suspicion.
wondering how long he knew was even more maddening. this man was posing as your kind next-door neighbor all the while knowing where you were and what you did when you left your home everyday. and all of it was for what - to capture you and cage you like an animal?
miguel lolled his neck. you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, weighing him down. “it was for your own good. you would have tried to shapeshift and get away from me, no?”
you chewed your lip, saying nothing. you didn’t want to admit that he was right. much to miguel’s amusement. 
“about that,” came one of the two teenagers, the boy, you noticed. “we really wanted to ask you about being a shapeshifter. i mean, that’s so cool. i’ve never met a shapeshifter before.”
“most people haven’t, kid,” you said stiffly. “who are you two?”
“i’m miles morales,” the boy introduced himself, stretching out his hand for you to shake. 
wiggling your fingers behind your back, you droned, “my hands are kinda tied here, kid. literally.”
miles made a face, immediately rushing to uncuff you after miguel unceremoniously tossed him the key. 
“i’m gwen stacy,” the girl said as your cuffs slackened and your hands were freed. “can you please tell us what it’s like to be a shapeshifter?”
“no, no, and no,” miguel said for you, clearly against the idea for whatever reason. 
“but why?” gwen pressed. then, an idea hit her and she looked to you, continuing, “miguel didn’t mean any harm. he has a good reason for doing all of this.”
“i’d sure like to hear it,” you mumbled under your breath.
“miguel hasn’t really told us, either,” miles added. “i mean, i thought-”
gwen covered miles’ mouth before he could say anything that would undo and hender their progress and convincing either you or miguel. 
from the looks if it, though, miguel was unimpressed to begin with, a blank look on his face. “whatever you’re trying to do, gwen, it’s not working.”
“it’s her choice,” gwen reminded, returning her attention to you and clasping her hands together against her chest. “please, please, please? we won’t bother you ever again.”
you glanced at miguel, who was glancing at you, both of you trying to read each other. there seemed to be a telepathic communication going on between you both before miguel visibly relented and you said, “alright, fine. go ahead. shoot.”
“can you shapeshift into anything?”
“animals and other humans, but not objects. and only living things that i’ve stored dna from.”
“do your senses get enhanced, like superhuman?”
“my senses depend on whatever - or whoever - i’m inhabiting,” you explained. “like, if i were to shapeshift into a bat, my hearing would be keener. but when it comes to humans, i only don their appearance.”
“do you have weaknesses?”
“next question,” you mumbled. of course, you did. your abilities were impaired when you were sick or injured, and downright disarmed it you consumed or came into close contact with something that you were allergic to. it was your kryptonite, not that anyone needed to know that.
“how long can you stay in shapeshifting form?”
“depends on my health.”
“alright, that’s enough,” miguel said. “both of you. out.”
strangely enough, miles and gwen didn’t argue, seemingly content with your answers. they bid you goodbye and left the room chattering amongst themselves.
you cocked your head, meeting miguel’s stare. “well, cap, what’s your motive?”
miguel got comfortable in his chair, like he was about to give you a monologue. “you’ve been on our radar since you mutated. i was going to just lock you up and throw you with the others at first, since i assumed you were hurting innocent people.”
“you think daddy’s boy and his family are innocent?” you asked with a hint of amusement. 
“rodney malone-fisk?” 
you groaned at that name. “you call him rodney. i call him a spoiled brat.”
“i know what his family did to you. what they took from you,” miguel started, making all the blood drain from your face. “your fiancé didn’t just die in a work incident. he was killed as a lab rat. fisk was trying to test out a mix that would grant him dimension-traveling abilities but it ended up being a shape-shifting solution instead. you were supposed to die, too, but the dosages weren’t measured properly.”
you said nothing. there was nothing that you could say. just thinking about it made tears sting your eyes.
miguel grabbed your hand over the table, squeezed it like he had the other day. there was tenderness he had for you that he hadn’t felt in a long time. you understood him. “you know why i asked if you had the chance to be something better, would you take it? because i know that you’re more than this. you’re not a bad person. you just do bad things to survive.”
“i can’t,” you whispered, swatting his hand away. “everything i touch, i destroy.”
that miguel understood on levels he didn’t want to nor care to admit.
you fought the tears with all your might. after your fiancé died, you lost everything you had. except for your family. you had meadow and lani and built a safe haven for them from the ground up, swearing to protect them with your whole heart.
“i want to give you that chance,” miguel said stoically. “on a silver platter. i want you to join us.”
your eyes flickered. “join you? to do what?”
“you obviously have useful skill that could be put to better use. but kingpin and his son are going to destroy your universe as you know it if nobody stops him. and if anyone deserves to take him down, it’s you.”
that got your attention. kingpin wanted to destroy the universe? your fiancé always talked about his boss wanting to cross different dimensions, but you never thought it was humanly possible.
though considering you could shapeshift, you figured anything was possible nowadays. but your major concern was your daughter, your eyes widening with the realization that you should have been with her already. you could feel a tingle, sensing that something just wasn’t right. 
you didn’t say a word as you immediately hopped to your feet and ran out of the door, miguel immediately giving chase, but you ultimately disappeared into a crowd of spider-people and although it couldn’t have been too hard to differentiate you from them, you were already on the loose.
running as fast as you could, you didn’t stop, although you didn’t really know where you were going and with all the many spider-people roaming around that resembled each other, it felt as though you were running in circles.
then, you came face-to-face with hobie, and scowled.
“move,” you hissed. 
hobie called out your name. “ay, mate, no hard feelings.”
“all the feelings i have for you right now are hard,” you snarled, pushing past him. you would be affording miguel the same amount of animosity when you were certain your daughter was safely in your arms. right now, he was in your way, and anyone stopping you from being with your kid was going to be met with a snappy attitude.
“wait,” hobie called out behind you. 
you turning around, pointing an accusing finger towards him, and snapped, “i was supposed to be back with my child by now and because of you i’m not. so unless you’re going to help me get to her, i suggest you move out of my way.”
“that guy sucks anyway,” hobie said, not having to even think about which option he preferred. “follow me.”
you hesitated, because he was the whole reason that you were even here, but eventually followed him down the hallway, careful to move quiet and stealthily. you were also wary that it could be trap, but truth be told, you had no other way out.
though you probably should have questioned how or why it was so many of them, that was the last thing on your mind. lani was probably worried sick about you. you didn’t have a clue what time it was, but it didn’t take a genius to know that hours had passed, and you said you would be home way before now. 
the hall broadened towards its end where you saw a gathering of spider-people, all looking like they were scouting somebody out. “blast, he’s got them looking for you,” hobie grumbled under his breath. he walked you back around a corner and handed you something around his wrist. “here, take this.”
“what the hell is that?”
“it’s a wristband. it’ll open a portal to your universe. but you’ve gotta go now,” hobie explained, tapping some kind of button. 
you were more than a little surprised when an orange warp portal opened.
“go,” hobie said, glancing around for anybody. “i’ve got your six.”
hearing footsteps approaching, you neared the portal and almost entered, but there was a gnawing question that you couldn’t ignore. you whipped around, asking, “where do your loyalties lie?”
“in myself,” hobie answered without a second of hesitation. “and in the people that mean the most to me.”
you scoffed. “what happened to boss’ order?”
“i’m my own boss. that was in your best interest,” hobie replied, leaning against the wall. “c’mon. get outta here.”
turning around, you sucked in a breath, and walked through that portal. 
BACK IN BROOKLYN…
you returned right back at your house, just near the road. glancing around, nothing looked too out of the ordinary. lani’s car was parked in the driveway, meaning she had to have been there. didn’t she?
running to your house with all of your speed, you prepared to search yourself for your keys, only for your heart to drop when you realized that the door was already wide open.
heart racing, you burst through the foyer, and the first thing you saw when you entered your living room was lani sprawled out on the floor, a puddle of blood beneath her. 
“lani,” you gasped out, crouching down beside her. 
lani’s eyes were fluttering, a tremble in her weak voice as she whispered, “i tried to stop them.”
“stop who?” you asked, trying to stop the blood flow. she had been shot, lying here for only god knew how long. you threw off your jacket and pressed it to her gut, apologizing when she winced out in pain. 
“kingpin’s men,” she croaked. “they took meadow. they want you.”
you gritted your teeth, bristling with anger. hadn’t that man taken enough from you? you let him get away with killing your fiancé, but your daughter was crossing the line and you’d show him the mistake he’d made. even if it cost you everything. “where?” you asked. 
lani lifted up her arm, and that was when you noticed that it was also coated in blood, but there were symbols carved into her skin. 
it was the symbol of an abandoned alchemax building.
“go,” lani said, tensing as though it took all of her strength to say that one syllable. your fingers were clenched into fists. you would kill everyone involved with your bare hands if you had to. 
“no,” you balked, shaking your head. “i can’t leave you like this.”
lani grabbed your hand, lacing her fingers through yours. “your daughter is more important.”
thinking about what they could have been doing to meadow right now made you shudder with a fear you had never felt before. 
“i’ll take her to a hospital,” came a voice from behind you. you turned immediately, recognizing it. there stood miguel, still clad in his spider-man suit. “go save your daughter. i’ve already sent the team.”
you stood, coming face-to-face with miguel, and hissed, “if anything happens to her…”
“i know,” miguel said, as if he understood you wholeheartedly. “go.”
miguel scooped lani up into his arms, and it hurt you when she hissed in pain. you turned to her. “i’ll come back for you.”
lani smiled weakly. “i know you will.”
and with that, you were out the door, shapeshifting into your signature raven and flying across town.
the abandoned alchemax wasn’t exactly old. it was the building where your fiancé was killed and they covered up the incident as the result of faulty equipment, which ultimately led them to build an entirely new facility. you landed on top of the building that somehow hadn’t been demolished yet, transforming back into yourself when your feet were against the ground.
there wasn’t really an entrance all the way up here. the rooftop door was blocked and bolted as preventative measures. guess i’ve got to make my own door, you told yourself, undeterred.
spotting a stray piece of metal debris, you wielded the pipe in your hands. there was always the option of the lower-level entrances, if you wanted to get caught immediately. kingpin’s men were probably staking the place out, waiting to ambush.
you stepped back, holding the pipe, and charged towards the door as you shattered the window open, glass shards flying everywhere. cautiously stepping over the glass, you fitted your way through the gap you’d created, craning your head downwards until your feet plopped against the floor.
you were in. 
there were two halls on either side of you and though you didn’t really know which one went where, you followed your gut and took the path to your right.
the whole place was eerily dark and empty. duh, it’s abandoned, you cogitated. not that it made things any better. all you could hear was yourself, your own feet against the cold floor, though it would be naive to believe you were truly alone.
someone was here. kingpin’s men were everywhere but nowhere at the same time, waiting for you to make yourself known. and miguel had told you that he sent the team that should have been here by now, making you wonder how they got in and if they’d been detected.
you couldn’t explain it, but it felt like you were being watched, like there was somebody on your heels ready to strike you in your back when you least expected it. though to be honest, you always felt that way. always alert. never safe.
what you would give to live in peace again, to rest your heart and mind even for just a second. but you couldn’t afford not to be careful, not when you had a daughter to live for.
walking by a door, you cried out in shock when somebody grabbed your arm in pulling you inside, instinctively shapeshifting into a venomous creature, but withdrawing when you saw that it was only hobie and his friends.
“i almost killed you,” you hissed to him after donning your normal appearance again.
hobie threw his hands off, feigning innocence, and grumbled under his breath, “never get caught slipping, huh?”
you glared.
there were two people you didn’t recognize tagging along with them. gwen shut the door, while a lady approached you, introducing, “i’m jessica. i work with miguel. and listen, we really need your help.”
your brows furrowed. “what’s going on?”
“kingpin’s making this weird space-traveling machine that’s really a doom machine because he’s gonna kill everyone,” some kid rambled. “oh, i’m pavitr.”
miles looked surprised, like nobody told him what was going on, and asked, “you got evil kingpin in your universe, too?”
“unfortunately,” you mumbled. 
“he’s out of control. he doesn’t know what he’s doing,” gwen told you frantically. “we’re making a device that will deactivate the accelerator but it’s taking some time.”
“so what?” you asked, trying to get to the point. “you want me to stall him?”
“he’s got cheeto,” hobie reminded. “there isn’t any telling what he’ll do to her if somebody doesn’t stop him.”
you gritted your teeth, filled with unadulterated rage. god, you felt murderous. you tried to speak levelly, “so, what’s the plan?”
“we split up into pairs,” jessica said. “we find where he has the accelerator. that’s where he’s keeping your daughter.”
hobie declared, “i dibs miles.”
miles didn’t protest. jessica insisted it was best if the younger ones were supervised, so she volunteered to take pavitr and the device that they were cooking. which left you with gwen. “guess it’s just you and me, kid,” you said, stepping out of the room.
“i think it’s really cool that you can shapeshift,” gwen told you while you stealthily crept down a hall with her. “i mean, it sucks how it happened to you, but…”
“shh,” you whispered, tugging her behind a wall. she seemed surprised, but then she heard the footsteps, too.
someone was coming.
“i’m gonna do something really weird,” you told her lowly. “and i need you to play along.”
“what are you…”
you shapeshifted into kingpin. 
“oh my god. that is really weird,” gwen mumbled. 
you grabbed her arm none too gently, reminding her to play along, and approached the man that was working for kingpin. “found this one lurking around.”
“i knew i heard something from over here,” the guy said, shooting gwen a scowl. “you want me to take her off your hands, boss?”
“take her to the accelerator. now,” you ordered, handing gwen over, who was doing a good job at looking dejected. “i’ll follow behind.”
the man didn’t hesitate to follow orders, leading you to the room where the accelerator was. that was far too easy. 
it was a lot of walking. apparently the accelerator was at the very bottom of the building, beneath the first floor, heavily guarded by kingpin’s men. it was a good thing you were wearing something even better than a hyper realistic costume.
the room was white and starkly bright compared to every other inch of the place, though all of that could be chalked up to the fact that it was the only room in the whole building currently using energy. and lots of it, too.
when you finally saw your daughter sitting in a small cage above the accelerator, between bars like an animal, you almost killed everyone in the room. instead, you kept your cool, ordering the dude to unhand gwen.
“anything else, boss?”
just as you opened your mouth to speak, the unimaginable happened. the door swung open, revealing the real kingpin, who seemed more than baffled when he saw you standing there. until it hit him that he knew of a shapeshifter. 
“you fool,” kingpin bellowed, glaring at the man. “that’s her!”
“fuck,” you swore under your breath. 
the man turned to you, watching you visibly break into a sweat, and called out, “hey, you’re not my boss!”
that cry got the attention of everyone in the room, all of kingpin’s very armed men. you gave gwen a look and shouted, “now!”
gwen started to shoot webs, restraining men that turned to put their weapons on you, and you shapeshifted into a wolf, attacking the man that had been under the impression that you were his boss until he was nothing but a bloody course. 
and the cycle repeated. kingpin ordered more of his men to move in and attack you, keeping his distance seeing as you were currently in a form of a wolf that could bite his head off if she so pleased. some of his men took him somewhere else in the room, away from you, and crowded him defensively. 
all the while, your five-year-old daughter was watching. she was almost six, and she was brilliant, and she was watching you attack with something that surprisingly wasn’t fear. almost like she thought she was watching a movie of some sorts, anticipating the next scene.
you were trying to get to her, but kingpin had made it so that if you really wanted to, you would have to get through him first.
blood quickly started to pool around and it wasn’t yours. there were bodies everywhere, dropping like flies. though you desperately wanted to cover your daughter’s eyes and spare her from the horror of seeing multiple people die at your hands in real time, you were in too deep of a rage to stop and nothing would keep you from fighting.
then, it happened. you didn’t move quick enough. the bullet tore right through you, making you howl out, and you glitched back into your true form. the wound was there, blood dripping around your calf.
gwen gasped, coming to your side, but she was caught and forcibly restrained. 
“mom!” meadow cried out, gripping the metal cage bars. 
kingpin cackled in amusement. “bravo, bravo. you know, i really do have to applaud the show you put on right there. this could have been painless if you would have just complied.”
“let my daughter go,” you snarled with vitriol. 
“i will,” kingpin said, like she was the most insignificant part of this little scheme of his. “after you give me what i want.
“what don’t you understand? i don’t have anything,” you shouted, fingers reaching to your wound and becoming stained in your own blood. “you took everything from me!”
“the code, woman. what’s the code?” kingpin hissed. “your fiancé was working on it. he cracked it. the code to the accelerator.”
for a second, you genuinely had no idea what he was talking about, until it hit you. your fiancé talked at length about a device at work that he’d been programming under his boss’ order, but he wanted to sabotage it. he said that it was unsafe. that kingpin didn’t realize the mistake he was making. it was an underdeveloped device that could destroy the whole planet.
you quickly realized he’d been talking about the accelerator. he’d worked many long days and nights on it and still thought that it wasn’t ready for use. that was what kingpin had been developing for all these years, completing your fiancé’s unfinished business.
“damn that code,” you snapped irritably.
kingpin was furious, and started to ramble, “your fiancé died at his own hand. he signed a contract. it isn’t my fault that the mix killed him, but if you don’t telling me everything i need to know about this damn machine, i’ll kill you and i’ll kill-”
“boss,” interjected one of kingpin’s men. 
“don’t you hear me speaking?” roared kingpin. 
“but boss, the baby,” the man started. “she’s gone.”
kingpin’s eyes flitted up to the cage, immediately noticing the absence of your five-year-old daughter. “what? how did she escape? what did you do?”
“i didn’t do anything, boss, i swear! i…”
the man’s words interrupted by a blood-curdling cry as a small but ferocious animal attacked him to the ground.
it was a baby wolf. and more importantly, it was your baby.
“capture that thing!” roared kingpin. 
not on your watch. you mustered the strength to rise to your feet, snatching a gun out of the man closest to you and briefly knocking him out with it just before doing a complete three-sixty and shooting in every direction.
all the while, meadow was agile and too quick on her feet, and it didn’t hurt that she was super tiny. you jogged over to gwen, wincing as you limped over, dropping to the ground to avoid facing the barrels of guns and shooting at the men that were restraining her.
gwen wiggled her arm, probably sore from how tightly they were holding her. “thanks.”
“thank me later,” you said, panting for breath.
“wait!” gwen called out behind you. “you’re hurt. can you still shift?”
you exhaled a sigh. “remember when you asked me about my weaknesses?”
“oh.”
“yeah.”
when you turned around, you saw meadow still kicking ass. just a second later, one of kingpin’s men grabbed her and your maternal instincts immediately kicked in, ignoring all of your pain and suffering to parade over there and take action.
it was like you blacked out. you didn’t even know what happened. one second, you were marching over there, and the next, meadow was safely in your arms and the guy that had dared to lay his bare hands on her was floored with more than a couple of broken bones and was certainly no longer breathing.
“are you okay?” you asked, cradling her to your bosom. 
meadow nodded, nestling closer to you. you were almost elated to tears, unable to describe the relief you felt knowing that she was okay. though it was a shock, you were pleasantly surprised that she had inherited your ability. 
worried, but pleasantly surprised.
“do i need to make any other examples of what happens when you come between a mother and her child?” you shouted out, watching a couple of men cower.
in the next second, there was another shattering noise, like the one when you broke into the building through the window. and then you quickly realized that it was a window being smashed into, fractured glass pelting everywhere.
there was a blur of blue and red, but you still recognized it, especially when the intruder’s feet skidded across multiple faces, successfully knocking them out, until he dropped his red string and came to a land before you.
“miguel,” you gasped, more than a little surprised.
“lani is fine. they said she’ll make it,” he said, knowing that you would ask. that was what was most important to you right now. “i didn’t leave her alone. her mother came.”
you nodded, content with that. you weren’t on speaking terms with lani’s mother - she’d never liked you - but you knew she cared for her children deeply and that was all that mattered in that moment.
“oh, how sweet. a reunion,” kingpin barked sarcastically, looking at you both with pure hatred.
miguel’s jaw clenched noticing your injured form, and he immediately caged you and your daughter behind him, bellowing back, “we can either make this really easy or really hard.”
kingpin cackled. “hilarious! i was thinking the same thing.”
miguel growled, reaching for the person nearest to him, and you covered meadow’s eyes when he went to rip them to literal shreds. she had shapeshifted back to normal now, still as tiny as ever, though.
dropping the guy’s remains, miguel glanced around, red eyes making contact with the startled ones of kingpin’s men. he didn’t have to say anything else. they all immediately surrendered, even the ones intended to be defending kingpin. 
“you know, good help is really hard to find these days,” kingpin groaned.
“save it, doucheface,” gwen said, swooping in to wrap him in her webs.
the doors burst open, revealing jessica and pavitr holding an orange, radiating deactivator, followed by hobie and miles.
jessica gave a nod. “it’s ready.”
“catch!” exclaimed pavitr, throwing the device in the air. 
you caught it in your hands. if anybody deserved to destroy this machine, it was you. and you wanted to do it with kingpin helplessly watching, just like how you watched your fiancé die in front of your own eyes, unable to help.
“say goodbye to this piece of shit, kingpin,” you taunted, handing meadow over to miguel as you approached the accelerator. 
“no!” kingpin roared, restlessly flailing in his restraints, but to no avail. 
nothing felt as satisfying as when you latched the deactivator on the accelerator. the whole machine started to groan, jerking in place, and you backed away. the surface started to crystallize and you watched in pure uncertainty of if this was even going to work. 
for a whole minute, the entire room was deadly silent, only watching. like nobody could tell if it was starting up or breaking down. then, it started to ebb out, atom by atom.
piece by fucking piece.
“it’s over!” gwen exclaimed. 
you bobbed your head. it really was over. this was closure.
“i’ll handle him,” jess volunteered with a sigh, throwing kingpin an unimpressed look before glancing between you and miguel. “y’all got things to hash out.”
you avoided miguel’s eyes.
THE SEVENTH FLOOR OF BROOKLYN HOSPITAL…
after getting meadow checked out to make sure she was okay even if she wasn’t obviously hurt, and being told that your injury wasn’t as serious as it felt (hence why you were roaming the hospital) you felt a little more human than before.
it felt like hours that you were waiting inside the hospital lobby, so the second that the nurse came up to you and told you that lani was finally available for visiting, you politely thanked her and attempted to rush the whole way to her room with meadow in yours arms.
“lani,” you exhaled when you opened the door to her room. 
“hi,” lani rasped. she was hooked to lots of different things, paler than usual. though, to be fair, she did almost die. meadow rushed over, handing her a bouquet. “oh, wow, are these for me?”
meadow bobbed her head, beaming proudly. “i picked them all by myself.”
though her every moment was obviously taxing, lani flashed a smile. “you have a great eye, meadow. how’d you know tt loves pink?”
meadow giggled. 
you stepped closer, feeling your heart warm and a tear escape your eye, but you quickly wiped it. “i’m so sorry.”
lani gave you a displeased look. “oh, quit it. this is absolutely not your fault.”
“but it is,” you insisted. “i should have known this day would come. it could have been avoided. you should have left town like your mom or...”
lani called out your name and grabbed your hand with all of her strength. “hey, hey, hey. listen to me. you are my sister and i love you so much. i don’t care what the law says or what happened and what didn’t. there is nothing that would stop me from being there for you and i’d take so many bullets for you both.”
your eyes dampened with tears. 
“it already happened. it’s over,” lani whispered. “let it go.”
you bobbed your head, squeezing her hand back. she was the strongest women you knew, though you had a feeling she would have a contrasting opinion.
meadow inspected the stitches on lani’s arm. “tt, what are you going to do about the stitches?”
lani made a face, as if to say that that was a good question. “well, that scar is for sure never going to fade away and i will indefinitely have some scientific research company’s symbol craved into my skin, but on the plus side, i ironically think i’m officially over my fear of needles. so i’ll probably get a tattoo.”
meadow’s eyes were glimmering and she looked to you. “mommy, can i get a tattoo?”
“when you’re old enough, sweetheart,” you cooed, gently patting her on the back.
meadow pouted.
you threw lani a skeptical look, scoffing, “you of all people are seriously thinking about getting a tattoo?”
“not just thinking about it. i’ve decided,” lani told you matter-of-factly. “i figured that if i could survive a knife in my skin, then a needle is nothing. it’s like i unlocked a superpower.”
you shook your head in disbelief. leave it to lani to always make something out of nothing and the best out of everything. “speaking of unlocking superpowers, you won’t believe what happened today...”
lani furrowed her brows, trying to guess, but when she saw you wiggle yours, all the pieces came into place. “no way.”
you grinned. “yes way.”
“i want to see,” lani said, glancing towards meadow. 
“she can’t do it on command yet. trust me, we tried,” you replied with a chortle. “but i saw it with my own eyes. my baby’s got a gift.”
lani breathed out a sigh of bliss. “she sure does.”
speaking of gifts, there was a knock on your door, followed by an exclamation of, “special delivery!”
you recognized that voice, and seemingly so did lani from the smile on her face. even meadow looked happy. you went to go open the door, revealing miguel, dressed in normal clothes for a change. 
he approached lani, carrying a care package that he sat on her bedside. “i hope i’m not intruding. i wanted to give you a get well soon gift. i got you some chocolates in there, by the way, but don’t eat them too soon. they make your blood sugar levels increase, i heard.”
he definitely heard that from lyla, but he wasn’t going to mention that part.
“thank you, miguel,” lani said, glimpsing through the bag. “how you’d know i love ferrero?”
“someone mentioned it in passing,” miguel said, scratching his nape. 
your heart fluttered. he remembered something that you mentioned in passing?
lani nodded in approval, ever so grateful. there were also some soft blankets in there on top of other things. “well, i appreciate it.”
“it’s no problem,” miguel responded, then he glanced towards you, an unreadable look in his eyes. “we need to talk.”
���right,” you drawled. “lead the way.”
miguel turned his back, heading for the door. before you walked out, lani mouthed to you, “he’s a keeper.”
your heart skipped a beat. 
you closed the door behind yourself, looking up to meet miguel’s eyes. “well?”
miguel kissed you. in front of all of the hospital staff roaming the halls, in front of the loose patients, but you didn’t care. all you gave a damn about was his lips on yours and the way his broad shoulders felt in your palms. it was slow and sensual, a first kiss between lovers.
nothing else mattered in that moment. you forgot all of your pain and agony, all of your fears and woes. you forgot the past because you were so deeply rooted in that moment that nothing else occurred to you anymore.
when you two parted to breathe, you jokingly rasped, “i sure like the way you speak.”
miguel chuckled, placing a hand on his hip, before he sobered. “listen to me. i know i lied to you, but i wasn’t doing it to hurt you.”
“i know,” you whispered. “i’m not mad anymore. but i’m not sorry for storming out. my baby...”
“i know,” miguel finished. like he knew the feeling. “she means the world to you. and lani.”
you nodded. 
“i’m… i’m sorry for taking you away from them. she might’ve been okay if i hadn’t,” miguel apologized, much to his own shock. you unlocked sides of him that nobody else had seen, pieces of him he didn’t even know were still there.
“it already happened. it’s over,” you whispered, as a wise woman had once told you. it was water under the bridge. “let it go.”
miguel almost seemed nervous, which was a surprise. you had literally never seen this man nervous.
grabbing his hand and inching closer to his chest, you asked softly, “did you mean it? when you said you lost your family?”
miguel swallowed. “yes. i know how it feels.”
“then you know that it’s hard,” you started, scrambling for words. “you know, reopening yourself to people. being vulnerable. becoming a slave to your feelings because you don’t want to risk getting hurt again.”
miguel was silent, but you knew from the look in his eyes that he understood you completely. 
“but i want to give it a try with you,” you said, voice hardly the frequent beeping scattered along the hospital floor. “and the team.”
miguel’s eyes widened. “you want…”
“yes,” you cut him off. “i want to be on the team. although, i’m not sure how i’ll fit in. i’m not a spider-thing after all.”
miguel groaned, “who gives a damn? i’ll change the whole name for you.”
you giggled, wrapped your hands around his waist.
miguel found himself doing the same to you, holding you as he stared at you with all the affections a man had to offer. he just couldn’t wrap his head around it, or what it meant for the two of you, but he knew you’d both figure it out. 
“miguel?”
“mm?”
“you’re always welcome to be a part of my family,” you whispered gently, voice muffled against his shirt, though he heard you loud and clear. 
miguel’s eyes fluttered closed, holding onto you like he never wanted to let go, like he’d finally found a refuge in you. somewhere where he felt safe enough to let go. “you’re a part of mine now, too.”
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screamforyani · 11 months
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okay i’m awake time to write for my silly little phone spiders
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screamforyani · 11 months
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because they tied im going to do both so i think ill do a enemies to lovers oneshot and a baby daddy series
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screamforyani · 11 months
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screamforyani · 11 months
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lilac - chapter 5
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miguel o’hara x f!reader
summary: finally, you’re completely, and utterly, alone. but not for long.
wc: 5.2k
tags/warnings: domestic dispute, throwing objects, swearing, breakup, displacement, tooth-rotting fluff
author’s note: seatbelts on please
What woke you the next morning was not heavy, thick arms leaden with muscles, or kisses pressed to your temple with full lips that were curved up into a gentle, tired smile, but rather the alarming buzz of your phone right beside your head. Your eyes opened to stare at the little black box sitting on your pillow inches from your face, the screen bright with an alert that commanded your attention. Grumbling into the pillow and throwing your leg over the empty space beside you, not giving much attention to the fact that your boyfriend should have been there, you grabbed blindly at the phone and brought it to your face.
What you saw pulled you straight from whatever bleariness held you captive.
News stations, shaky cell phone footage, helicopter captures - they all showed the same thing all across every social platform available. An apartment building in Brooklyn had been… well. You didn’t quite know what to call it. Neither did anyone else. The structure of the building had been changed entirely, the very foundation rocked to its core. Floors had been tilted sideways in gravity-defying angles, graffiti no one could decipher had been sprayed and inked along its uneven walls. And to everyone’s horror, the walls and windows and roof seemed to all be glitching, like a television caught between channels. It shook and jumped when officials came too close, threatening to move by itself again and swallow them whole.
No one knew quite what to do. They were calling it a feat of a new villain, the work of a molecular mastermind.
You tapped a news coverage of the strange building, now wide awake and all the sleep cleared from your eyes. The video began to load, that gray little circle swirling around and around… before your phone died and the screen went black.
Releasing a long, growl-like groan of exasperation, you angrily clawed at your charger and plugged your phone in. You tossed off your covers and rubbed at your eye with the palm of your hand, attempting to run through your day. It was some minor holiday - you couldn’t remember which - so school was out, and you had today off from the club, so you were free to do as you wished.
Well, as you sort of wished. Grocery shopping, cleaning the apartment, doing laundry… since god knew Ferris didn’t do any of it.
Your attention was drawn to the front room of the apartment when you heard the door open and closed, followed by a pair of voices. One, you recognized. The other, you did not. Following the soft murmurs and laughter into the main room, you found Ferris and his new keyboard player leaning against the kitchen counter, passing your jug of milk back and forth between them. The girl spotted you standing in the doorway first, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you watching them like a predator who had cornered two rabbits who were too stupid to be paying attention. She set the jug down on the counter and plastered on a small smile.
“Hi,” she said and waved a hand in your direction.
Ferris glanced up, following her gaze, and almost seemed to stop himself from jumping when he caught your slitted eyes watching him. He reached up to wipe at his lip with his sleeve, clearing his throat. “Hey, babe,” he said, but there was no kind of affection in his tone. It was all guilt and regret for being caught in what he seemed to think was a furtive meet up with his new fucking keyboard player.
As you stared at the two, as you stared at your half-emptied jug of milk sitting on the counter, you felt your chest tightening more and more until there was hardly any room left for you to breathe. Your blood was frozen in your veins, flooding your body with a chilly kind of fire. Every single fiber of your being was alight, fueling the fire that had sparked to life in your chest.
A part of you wanted to play dumb. A part of you wanted to pretend you had no idea what this was, go along with whatever kind of game he was playing because, if you didn’t, you’d be alone.
But that other part of you, that bigger, hulking, furious part of you knew you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t play this part any longer, couldn’t memorize this script while you were also the one writing it and directing the whole show. This stupid fucking costume didn’t fit anymore. The stage wasn’t set any longer.
The show was fucking over.
Like she was sensing the oncoming storm brewing in your home, the girl shuffled on her feet toward the door. “I think I’ll just show myself out,” she said. She started to say goodbye to your boyfriend, beginning to raise a hand, before she caught the dangerous gleam in your eye and slipped out without another word.
As soon as she left, you crossed the room into the kitchen. Ferris regarded you with an unreadable expression. You thought that, maybe, a bit of that furrowed brow was guilt. Fear. You liked the idea of him being afraid of you. But you didn’t allow yourself to indulge in such a thought. For now, all that you could think of was this rage building and building in your throat. That - and the fucking dishes in the sink.
A couple of plates, a few spoons, and a fork. Stuck for days in this porcelain bowl while the dishes in the washer got themselves dirty again.
All this time. All this… effort. And for what? Nothing but a couple dishes left in the sink and this fire growing in your belly.
From behind you, Ferris shuffled himself awkwardly and swallowed thick. “I, uh… I thought you’d already left for work.”
You pursed your lips, feeling tears prod at the corners of your eyes as you stared at the faucet. Silently, you took the deepest breath you could, brought up every ounce of courage that you found within yourself.
You didn’t care if you were going to be alone anymore. You just wanted this to be over.
“I am so fucking done with you.”
For a long, long while, there was only the sound of silence in your apartment. Downstairs a few flights, a dog barked madly. Outside, car horns blared. Thunder rolled in the distance, bringing with it the promise of pouring rain and lightning that would light the sky alight with a fire unmatched.
Ferris said, “What?”
“I said - “ You reached into the skin and grabbed one of the plates, your fingers dipping into the water gathered at the bottom, then spun around on your heel and launched it directly at his head. “I’M DONE WITH YOU!”
He just barely dodged the projectile, his gaze swinging around with it as it sailed through the air and shattered into thousands of pieces against the wall. They scattered like bullet casings, twisting about your bare feet.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” he shouted, lifting a foot to stare at the pieces. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
You picked your way across the tile floor, tiptoeing around the glinting shards, then jumped into the hallway and stormed back toward the bedroom. As you threw the door open all the way, surely leaving a dent in your wall, you heard him following you.
You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t give a fuck.
As rain droplets began to tick against your windows, you heaved the closet door open, grabbed a pile of his clothes from his side, and tossed them out onto the floor. A number of his shoes followed, dropping limply to the hardwood as you continued to scrounge for more of his belongings.
Ferris grabbed onto the door frame as he came to a stop before you, watching with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as you emptied your closet of his things. “Hey, hey, hey! What the fuck are you doing?!”
Once you were satisfied you’d gotten everything from the closest, you stalked over to his side of the bed and began to rip everything out of its place. His phone charger, his nightstand trinkets, everything that looked and smelled and seemed like him.
His hand came from behind to grab your shoulder, and before you could stop yourself, you flung yourself around and smacked him hard across the face. Before he had a chance to react, to even raise a hand to his cheek, you felt tears spill down your cheeks as you yelled, “Get out! I want you out!”
“Oh, come on, nothing was going to happen -”
“Oh!” you shouted, then stormed past him, out from the bedroom, and into the hallway. He followed close behind, watching as you grabbed his hoodie from where it was slung over the back of the couch and tossed it to the floor. “You’re so fucking stupid, Ferris, you don’t - You don’t get it!”
He stopped you as you made to head for the bathroom next, holding you by your shoulders so tight your skin ached and his knuckles paled. “What?” he demanded, sporting a fleshy red mark on his face where you’d struck him. “Don’t fucking get what?”
“Everything!” you howled, feeling as tears cascaded down your cheeks to your chin. From there, they traveled down your neck and to your collar. “Fucking everything, Ferris! The way you bring people into our home, the way you never help with the bills, the - Jesus, the FUCKING DISHES IN THE SINK! Would it kill you to put away the fucking dishes?!” Ripping yourself from his hold, you reached up to weakly wipe at your tears. “I gave you so many chances, so many. So many signs…! And you never saw them. You never fucking saw them. So I’m giving you one now that you won’t be able to miss. Get. Out.”
For a long moment, Ferris only stared at you. You weren’t able to identify the expression playing his features, but it certainly was not the one that always stared you down on the regular. And you basked in it. Then suddenly he was moving, grasping your shoulders, coming close enough to show that his bottom lip was quivering. Normally you would have wrapped him up in a hug, held him close.
But now you wanted him as far away from you as possible.
“Hey, hey,” he said lowly, sounding strangely sweet. “Just take a breath, alright? Deep breath. We don’t have to do this right now. We’ll get this all cleaned up, sit down, take a break. And we’ll talk it out just like we always do, right?”
“There’s no talking about this, Ferris,” you sniffled, trying to push him away. “There were so many times to sit down and have a goddamn conversation, and you never wanted to. So what makes you think I would sit down and talk this out with you?”
Ferris held on tight despite you trying to get away from him, holding you so that your chests were pressed together. A chill crawled up your spine as you remembered last night; the neon glow of the lights, the feeling of Spiderman’s muscles beneath his shirt, the sensations that crawled across your body when he sighed and held you close.
How fucking pathetic was it that you felt safer in a stranger’s arms than in your own boyfriend’s?
“Because we always work things out, baby,” he said, pulling your attention back to his face. His eyes had faded pink like he was the one that was about to cry - like he was the one who was allowed to cry - and he rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Right? We always come around. We - we can start over, okay? Forget about the band, and - and that Miguel guy always texting you, and our jobs, and everything. We’ll move, okay? Fresh starts.”
You regarded him with wide eyes, your lips parted and curled upwards in a sneer that you didn’t think you were capable of. A new, fresh kind of feeling entered your veins, one like ice water had replaced your blood. You released a low, disgusted sound from the back of your throat and clasped a hand over your throat. “You - have you been going through my phone?”
Ferris pursed his lips - a tell he had that his anger was starting to flare up. “Only to keep you safe,” he urged. When you finally shoved him away and turned, he burst. “And good thing I have been, too, huh?! That creep is practically stalking you! Texting every other night, asking you to meet up -”
“Because of his fucking kid!” you howled, then grabbed the television remote and threw it at his head. He must have seen your windup, because he ducked, letting the projectile sail over his head and smack against the couch behind him. “He’s a father, you fucking dickhead - his kid is my goddamn student! I’ve been tutoring her! Not going out on dates with the guy! How selfish can you be?!”
“You and I both know those aren’t texts of some shitty-ass ‘well to do’ pops,” he threw back when he’d returned to his full height. “Asking how you’re doing in the middle of the night? While you’re at work? Real classy, that guy is. Trying to fuck his kid’s teacher.”
“Will you get out already!” Tears rivered down your cheeks as you hugged yourself, bare feet freezing against the hardwood floor and heart thundering in your ears loud enough to triumph the rain that had begun its pounding on the windows. “Get the fuck out of my apartment!”
Ferris stared at you for a long, long while, his chest heaving and his eyes ablaze with some kind of emotion you could not place. For a moment or two, you thought briefly that he was going to strike you. But then he stooped to grab his hoodie and stormed past you. Broken pieces of plate crunched under his shoes as he threw open the front door. “Call me when you’re ready to talk like an adult,” he said over his shoulder, then left you alone.
So incredibly, utterly, terrifyingly alone.
Slowly, as the blood rushing in your ears faded away, the noises of the outside world returned. The dog downstairs was still barking. The cars were still honking. The rain was pounding, and the thunder was rolling, and you were sobbing.
Contorting your mouth into a cry as a broken wail escaped your lips, you let yourself sink down to the cold floor and hung your head in your lap. Your systems were all fried, your brain on break. The only thing you could do was sit there in a heap and cry, shaking amidst the absolute mess you’d made of your home.
What seemed like hours later, and when you found yourself all out of tears, you sat up and stared at an empty place across the room. You’d finally, actually, truly done it. You’d kicked him out, opened your chest and shown him just how many bullet wounds you’d been carrying from every time he pulled that trigger of a tongue. He was gone. And you intended to keep it that way.
White noise invaded your ears as you set to work, allowing the rest of the world to fade away. You swept up the shattered pieces of porcelain on the kitchen floor; when you picked up a larger piece that had tried to get away from you, you realized it reminded you of your monarch mask from the club. You let it drop to the ground, and then you cleaned up those pieces, as well.
Next you emptied your box of trash bags and dragged them behind you as you traveled your apartment room to room, corner to corner, clearing out everything that belonged to Ferris. His clothes, his utilities and trinkets and prized possessions - they all went into the bags. And those bags were hauled downstairs and placed in the corner beside the trash. The guitar was leaned up against them. When you went back down half an hour later to throw out his food you hated the leftovers he’d been letting rot, it was gone.
Maybe those strings could make someone better than him happier than he was.
When the entire place was cleared of him, you dug through your wallet and the secret stash you kept in the sole of one of your ratty shoes and went to knock on your landlord’s door. The locks on yours were changed in less than an hour.
And when you finally felt safe enough to breathe in your own air again, you cleaned your entire home. Floor to ceiling, you mopped and wiped down and sprayed until every single trace of him was gone. The sheets were changed. The couch cushions washed. Every single piece of grime and dirt he’d brought into your life was gone.
And you couldn’t have been more glad.
Ferris had been a stain on your life, one you hadn’t necessarily wanted to clean and get rid of. If you did, it meant that you’d be left with a blank slate, with the echo of what you used to have. But echoes were meant to fade away. And blank slates were meant to be filled with new things. Bigger, better, brighter things.
It must have been late evening, after the rain had finally calmed and the thunder moved south, when you were pulled from the little dinner you were making yourself by a knock on the door. Your head whipped around, systems on high alert, thinking it was Ferris. You stayed perfectly still and silent.
There came another, slightly more frantic knock, followed by a call of your name. But it wasn’t Ferris on the other side. “Hello?” said Miguel O’Hara. “Are you home?”
For the first time today, since the moment you’d opened your eyes this morning, a certain kind of warmth blossomed throughout your chest. Setting the stove to low, you crossed the little kitchen, unchained your new locks, and swung the door open. The sight that greeted you was not the one you realized you were expecting.
Both Miguel and Gabriella were soaked to the bone, creating a puddle at your doorstep, and each hauling a small load of baggage over their shoulders. Their matching eyes were tired, exhausted. The little girl was shivering through her wet clothes, and her father tugged her closer to his side in an attempt to keep her warm.
“Hey,” murmured Miguel when your alarmed gaze flickered to meet his.
“Oh, my god,” you said, then stepped aside so that they could enter. “Get inside, please. Come on.” You watched as they trudged into your kitchen, lugging their things with them. “What the hell happened?” you asked, forgetting your mouth in front of your third grader.
Miguel dropped his bag down beside the door as you shut and locked it, releasing a long, weighted sigh from the back of his throat. He dipped his head down and palmed at the back of his neck as he turned to face you. “The apartment,” he said shortly, and suddenly you understood. The apartment building this morning in Brooklyn that had been disfigured by… whatever. It had been theirs.
How long had they been out in this?
“Jesus,” you said, kneeling down to grab a clean dish rag and towel Gabriella’s soaking hair. She sniffed tightly as you did so, her large, brown eyes shut to the sensation of your hands moving across her head. Poor fucking kid - displaced by whatever new freak incident New York had to offer this week.
“I tried to call you,” said Miguel from where he stood over you.
Your heart sunk slightly in your chest. “I’m so sorry,” you said as you stood, clutching the towel to your chest. God, even with all that excess water weighing him down, he still towered over you like a mountain. You were able to see his midsection through his wet shirt; but you didn’t let yourself go there. Not now. “I’ve been busy all day. Something - something happened, and…”
He met your eyes, limp hair hanging in his face to frame his temples, his cheekbones, his finely-cut jaw. A drop of water fell from the squared point of his chin, landing on the top of your bare foot. It sent a shiver racing in a mad dash up your spine. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to you, and you were able to feel his warm breath fan across your face. Christ, when had you gotten this close? “We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Don’t do that.” Against your better judgment, because today had been a day of going against every wall and boundary you knew, you reached up to ghost your fingers along his jaw. You swore you heard his breath hitch in his throat as he blinked down at you. ���You can stay as long as you need to. Both of you.” You swallowed, clenching your jaw against the screaming, searing sensation that wanted you to lean forward and connect your lips to his. “I don’t care if it’s days or weeks or months. You and she will always have a home here.”
This was insane. You could get fired from your job if the board found out you were doing this. But you didn’t care. As of now, your mind had long since run away, and you weren’t in much of a rush to catch it. Because if it felt this good to be out of your head, then by god, did you want to stay like this forever.
Miguel’s head tipped down ever so slightly and his throat moved as he swallowed thick. He had just opened his lips to whisper something in reply when your attention was pulled to the side, reminding you that you were not the only ones here.
“Daddy,” said Gabriella, looking just miserable standing there in a puddle of the water dripping off of her. “I’m really cold.”
Pulling away with a quick glance, Miguel stooped to pull his daughter into his arms. “I know, princesa,” he murmured as he held her, smoothing back hair that had stuck to her face. “We’ll get you warmed up.”
“The bathroom’s just down there,” you said, pointing down the hall. “You can run her a bath, if she wants. I’ll grab her something to wear.”
Nodding his thanks, he carried her and one of her bags down the hall and into the bathroom. A few minutes after the door softly clicked shut, you heard the water begin to run. You leaned against the countertop, staring at the bags gathering water by your front door.
This was happening. This was happening. Miguel O’Hara was going to be staying in your home. After dreaming and fantasizing all this time, he was finally within arm’s reach.
But your quiet comprehension was muted by the cold slap of reality. He wasn’t here for pleasure; he was here out of necessity. Out of survival. He and his daughter wouldn’t have a home for god knew how long; this wasn’t some dream come true. It was a tragedy.
On quiet feet, because you thought you heard Gabriella sniffling from the bathroom as she and her father talked in hushed tones, you crept into your room and retrieved an oversized sweatshirt and some shorts that she would be able to drawstring tight. After leaving them by the restroom door, you took her and Miguel’s things into the bedroom and laid out what little lay inside to dry; some of his spare clothes, a laptop, legal documents… anything and everything they could have been able to grab before they were evacuated. Staring at a framed picture of Gabriella when she couldn’t have been older than three or four, you wondered just what had caused the strange phenomenon that destroyed their home. Had it been an accident? Or had something targeted taken place?
You wondered if Spiderman was trying to take care of it.
After laying out their belongings to dry on your bed, you hurried back to the kitchen and scrambled to make your dinner enough for three people to share. You hoped they liked store-brand mac and cheese.
Some time later, after you’d heard your hair dryer running for a while, Miguel and Gabriella emerged from your restroom. She looked tiny in your old pajamas, but she seemed content with the way the long sleeves flopped about her arms and the hoodie framed her face like a curtain. He’d also changed into a spare set of clothes he must have had in the bag - a loose pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that stretched in the most perfect way across his well-defined pecs. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment longer than necessary when they wandered back into the kitchen, following their noses to the plates waiting for them.
“Hope you two are hungry,” you said as you gave them each their dinner. “Gabriella, honey, the remote is on the arm of the couch, if you want to watch TV while you eat.”
After waiting for a nod from her father, she took her plate and scurried over to your couch. A moment later, your apartment was filled with the quiet sounds of cartoons.
Miguel released a long, deep sigh from the pit of his stomach as he leaned back against the kitchen counter with you, crossing his bare feet at the ankles. How funny it was, how beautifully ironic, how quickly this had become an idyllic scene of domestication. “I really can’t tell you how much this helps us,” he said, pushing mac and cheese around with his fork. His thick, full brows pinched together as he lost himself in thought. You noticed that when he did, a little line appeared at the corner of his mouth. “It all happened so quickly. Just…”
“Hey.” Again going against what your brain tried to pull you away from, you placed the hand that wasn’t holding your bowl over his wrist. Despite having been soaked just a short time ago, his tan skin was warm beneath your own. When your fingers slid down, you felt the soft twitch of his pulse. “It’s alright, Miguel. You’re here now. She’s safe.” You gave him a small, crooked smile. “It’ll be okay.”
He held your gaze for a long while, so long that you felt your heart skip a beat, and when it did, he released a small chuckle - like he could hear it. Finally, you both looked down to push around at your dinners. He did not ask you about the absence of your boyfriend that you had told him pushed you out of your own home that day at the library. You were sure a keen man like him could pick up on a few things; how there were no belongings of another man here, how there were dents in the walls where you’d thrown items and slammed doors.
He didn’t ask, and you were glad. It seemed, in a way, he knew.
You loved that he did.
Behind you, the sound of a speaker being fiddled with pulled your heads around. Gabriella had discovered the little record player on your shelf - a gift to yourself a year or two ago. You hadn’t played it much, what with Ferris’ constant complaining about it. But as you watched the little girl gingerly place a vinyl down on the player, you realized you’d been missing out.
“Ay,” scolded Miguel and set down his bowl. “Manos a ti mismo.”
“It’s okay,” you said, then moved into the living room to help her with the settings. “I haven’t used this thing in forever.”
Seemingly still a little shell shocked from the events of the day, Gabriella watched you shyly as you dropped the needle and suddenly, music was spilling from the speakers. It wasn’t the kind of music your old boyfriend played on that guitar of his; this was real, with heart and feeling and a kind of rhythm that pulled your heart slightly from the abyss it was stuck in.
‘Hey, what’s the matter with your head, yeah?’
And then, because fuck, you couldn’t think of anything else to do, and because your feet were suddenly moving on their own, you started dancing. You swayed back and forth to the beat of the song, to the bass and the melody, wiggling your head a bit.
“Come on, pretty girl,” you said, taking Gabriella’s small hands in yours. “Will you show me that beautiful smile and dance with me?”
Slowly, gingerly, like a bit of her fiery, lively soul was returning to her, Gabriella’s lips thinned into a smile. She let you pull her around the living room, beginning to copy your movements as she grinned and giggled. Her limbs were sluggish and awkward, a wonderful testament to the mere nine years she’d been on the earth, but her laughter and her tongue poking through the place where she’d recently lost a tooth made up for it. Lyrics like directions to your awful little dance spewed from the shelf where the record player sat, witness to the show in your home.
‘Baby, find it, come on and find it.’
You spun on your heel to face Miguel, who was standing at the entrance of your kitchen, watching the scene before him with parted lips and hooded eyes that made your stomach turn violently and passionately. Shuffling closer to him and bringing forth every ounce and inch of courage you hand, you took your hands and wiggled up close. You breathed out the next lyrics in a sing-songy whisper only he could hear.
“Bear with it, baby, ‘cause you’re fine, and you’re mine, and you look so divine.”
Miguel’s head tilted to the side in that way he did, gaze wider now and the beginnings of a low, enthralled smile twisting his lips. Then his feet were moving, allowing you to pull him into the living room with Gabriella to join your little dance.
While she twisted and spun and pretended to know the words, you felt his fingers interlace with yours. You grinned, because holy fuck - what else in the world was there to do? - and let him sway you back and forth with the thrum of the song, fronts just inches apart and legs already tangled together. He began to hum the song from the back of his throat, from the bottom of his belly, and you swore you’d never heard a better sound in your life.
When Gabriella had turned away, too caught up in her own world of the song, Miguel leaned in close so that his cheek brushed yours, so that your chests were pressed together, so that his full lips grazed the shell of your ear. He murmured so softly you strained to hear him over the swell of the music, but you did.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered.
Then he pulled back away to bore his gaze down into your own, his forehead just barely grazing yours.
You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t trust yourself to say nothing, because you might have just shrunk into yourself and disappeared into the very tingling, overwhelming ache and pang of want and need and everything else in your heart. Didn’t trust yourself to open your mouth, because you might have just leaned up and kissed him.
So you just pressed your forehead up into his, smiled so bright and so wide your cheeks hurt, and danced.
tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick @natthernandez @bakgoktski @soupsexsunsalutationsss @roxannarichie @lovagirlxxx @soggyeyeballsss @yoyoyoyoyo55555 @sophipet @quaintii @lavnderluv @cookiezxx @euphorica @its-a-polyglot @nicalysm @maxi-ride @exzidss @crappwr0m @femme-is-dead @bitch-onthemoon @hier—soir @takayomi @kirke-is-my-name @d1lf-loverrr @might-be-a-rat @brooks-lin @maki-z @bookfreakk @act1839 @dollscircus @sleepingaway @anxietybutterfly @bioticboot @mxkn @freeingrebels @digitalcreature404 @aimee777 @hunnaye @blahbahed @cyanide-mustard @impettywhenyouare @mental-illness-is-my-friend @bobfood @jenniferdixon05207 @moonchild-cupcake @venomous-ko @marvelouslovely-barnes @syarblu @fruitcupsworld @soooooyesbutactually-no @hopefulcandywitch @elwyn7 @oh-theseus @thepanwiccan @takayomi @dreamingofbucky @yuuuumii @p1nkliquor @scammer-get-scammed @mlishe
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screamforyani · 11 months
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r u mine?
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pairing ↠ jj maybank x (f) reader x ethan landry
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, angst, unprotected sex, best friend!jj, panty thief!jj, violence, murder, mentions of blood, character death
summary ↠ jj doesn’t like your old best friend and it shows. it’s not like he even tries to hide it. you don’t know if it’s possible to keep him both happy and safe in the fight for survival.
wc ↠ 5.7k
author’s note ↠ pt. 2/4 of the still friends, not lovers series. feedback is appreciated!
“He had you hurt.”
Nothing but silence filled the patio. Matter of fact, apart from the hisses you smothered with a lip bite, it had been off-puttingly silent until now. Whether or not you preferred it over the fussing was a good question. 
Your parents (obviously) weren’t home. Given the news of the recent attacks, they were locking up the shop before the newly implemented curfew arrived. No sooner had you made sure Ethan was alive and okay than you drove back home and called JJ over. 
Naturally, calling your best friend was your first move. Save for the burden of feelings flush against your chest, you never kept anything from him. 
“We were both caught off guard. There was nothing he could do,” you mumbled under your breath, feeble. 
He hadn’t been there to see the things that you saw or hear the things that you heard. Ethan told you that he loved you. He sacrificed his life to protect you from a literal killer. He was willing to have something way worse than a slice to the shoulder happen to him for your own survival. 
JJ shook his head, declaring, “I would have never let anything happen to you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do,” JJ insisted, wrapping a sterile bandage around your arm. 
You sighed. “Why do you hate him? He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Hate is a strong word,” he replied distractedly, wiping your blood off. “I don’t know. I just hate the guy.”
You wanted to roll your eyes. This boy was impossible. But you loved him and that was why you were trying to hear him out. “So, you hate him for no reason?”
“No, no - there’s a reason for everything. I just don’t know what it is yet,” JJ said, sounding like his typical self. “I just have a gut feeling.”
Sitting up on the lounge chair, you cocked him a look. “Let me get this straight. You hate him because you got a vibe.”
“Not a vibe. A gut feeling,” JJ corrected. Like there was a discernible difference. 
Your two best friends’ dislike of each other made you feel cornered. Ethan was significantly less obvious and unabashed about his feelings, but you noticed the way he’d stiffen a little at the mention of your current best friend. Maybe if they tried to like each other, things would be easier on your end, but you knew that would never happen. 
You really needed a new plan.
For whatever reason, JJ felt the need to continue, “I’m just saying what are the odds that as soon as those guys show up, bodies start dropping like flies.”
“It’s summertime and we live on an island. I’m sure they’re not our only visitors,” you reminded monotonously, as if you were bored of this conversation. 
You were.
Like none of that mattered, JJ suggested, “Or B, he’s a serial killer.”
Irritated, you shot, “Jesus fucking Christ, Jayj. When are you going to be honest with yourself and admit you’re just jealous?”
If you wanted to go the whole mile, JJ was willing to race you there. “Me - jealous? You think I care that much?”
“Obviously, you do,” you hissed. 
JJ’s first instinct was to run. He couldn’t let you be right. “You know what, if you wanna run all over the island with him, cool. Just don’t call me when shit hits the fan.”
“JJ,” you shouted after him. 
There was no point. JJ was already hopping over your back fence, coming out the way he had come in. His motorbike was parked behind your house just in case he needed to make a quick escape. Your mother would have a heart attack if they found out he was in their house alone with you and your father would kill him. 
JJ mounted his bike and started to leave. You gawked. Leave it to him to disappear. Any sudden moves and you would scare him away. 
Shaking your head in reproach, you turned to sit back on the lounge chair. Unbelievable, you wanted to scoff under your breath. Given your nature, you’d gotten into your fair share of arguments with JJ throughout the years, but this felt like the stupidest. And there were many, many stupid fights. 
Accusing Ethan of being a serial killer was the last straw for you. You were sick of him making assumptions about somebody he knew nothing about. That was JJ, though. He acted like he knew everything. 
Still, you weren’t really mad at him. Just frustrated. There was so much happening. Way too soon. And when he blew up like that you got scared to tell him how you felt. 
You decided that you would be keeping your feelings to yourself. Not telling him things didn’t feel right, but it was for his own good. What good would it do to tell him that you slept with your old best friend but you thought you still liked him?
None whatsoever. He would rage. 
You heaved a breath. Just when you thought that you had it all figured out, shit got complicated all over again. Before Ethan came, you were certain about your feelings. You planned to confess to JJ sometime this summer. 
Now, you were torn. Was it possible to be in love with two people at once? Not to mention your best friend was totally off-limits. 
Your phone pinged. Your heart raced at the thought that it was JJ, or maybe even Ethan, but you were slightly disappointed when you saw that it was Sarah. 
sarah: i know you’re in the middle of boy drama but don’t forget that there’s a party tomorrow night 
you: me? boy drama? pfft
sarah: right haha so funny 
sarah: bring a date?
you: you’re my date duh
sarah: not sure if john b will like that 
you: i’ll fight him
sarah: i’ll be holding the camera 
You giggled. Fuck, you definitely needed it. 
A party with all of your good friends to take your mind off your boy drama (as she had aptly named) didn’t sound like the worst thing ever. There was just one thing. A literal killer was on the loose. Granted, it was before curfew, but that wouldn’t prevent a strike. 
The police couldn’t have the event canceled, but you heard that they would be supervising the event. As far as you were concerned, Shoupe was still convinced your friends were behind the attacks and was probably hoping to use a gathering to bait you out. 
Nonetheless, when five o’clock the following came, you were at Topper’s clad in a turtleneck and your favorite mini skirt. To be honest, you were a little antsy about partying on the kooks’ turf. Specifically because whenever kooks or pogues were on the wrong side of the island everything took a wild turn.
Every time without fail. 
“I don’t want no trouble from you tonight, young lady,” Shoupe said when you made the misfortunate mistake of passing his car. 
You pivoted on your heels, forcing the sweetest smile. “I’ll be on my best behavior, sir, but I really hope you’re giving them a similar speech.”
You cocked your head at Topper, Rafe, and Kelce, who were currently huddled together cracking jokes by the drink bar. 
Shoupe had some jokes to get off of his own and asked, “Ain’t that your boyfriend?”
Wrong former kook, you thought irritably. “I believe you’re thinking of Sarah. No, either way,” you said sharply. You left out the part that you’d hooked up with Topper some years back. Though that was before he decided that Sarah was the love of his life. 
“If you say so, kid. Have fun.”
“I’ll try,” you muttered, darting away from him quickly. 
You decided to hide by the snack stand which, in hindsight, wasn’t a favorable hiding spot. Heaving a relieved breath, you reached for a fruit. Finally free.
Not. 
“Hey, princess,” came a familiar voice behind you. 
Ever so slowly, you turned around, forcing a smile when you locked eyes with Rafe. God fucking dammit. “Hi, Rafe,” you greeted. “Still on a mission to fuck all of your sister’s friends?”
“If you’ll let me,” Rafe said, more than a little flirty. 
Straight to the point. You almost respected it. This, unfortunately, was a recurring series of events that you had learned to deal with. Apparently Rafe, Kelce, and Topper were trying to pass you around, because though Topper was all eyes for Sarah, Kelce had directed more than a couple of flirty comments towards you.  
You, on the other hand, were highly disinterested. Rafe was the same dude who hated your friends and made your lives a living hell every spare chance he got. You just happened to be a pretty girl with kook money that Rafe made it a point to remind that she was too good for hanging out with pogues. 
“I’m kind of dating someone,” you lied through your teeth. Maybe it wasn’t a lie. You didn’t know what to make out of what happened with Ethan yesterday. 
Rafe obviously didn’t believe you, leaning onto the table. “Oh yeah? Who?”
“Me,” came another voice beside you. 
Your knight in shining armor was no other than JJ, the last person you wanted to see right now, but you decided that being with him was a whole lot better than having to tell Rafe to fuck off. 
Rafe shook his head, laughing. “You can do better than that.”
JJ was visibly upset, but rather than bite back, he grabbed your arm and said sternly, “Let’s go.”
There was no arguing with that tone. You let JJ drag you through Topper’s house as if he knew his way around and you ultimately found yourselves in a bathroom instead of a closet or something. Thank god. At least there was distance between your bodies and breathing room.
For a second, the two of you stood there in silence, sizing each other up for whatever reason. It was silent for at least thirty seconds before JJ had enough. 
JJ looked frantic, as if he had been searching his brain for what to say and had come short of adequate answers. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry,” you repeated, looking at him with folded arms and complete disinterest. It was only a facade, of course. 
JJ ran a hand through his hair. He had been beating himself over this for a whole day. When you two weren’t speaking, all his hours felt longer. “Look, I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to fix things. I just make shit worse.”
You held back a snort. To say the least. 
“You were right,” JJ confessed quietly. 
Playing clueless, you chirped, “About?”
JJ exhaled a breath before admitting, “I was jealous. I don’t wanna lose you to some guy.”
“I don’t wanna lose you to a killer,” you whispered, approaching him a little. “That’s what’s important to me right now. I want you to see that.”
JJ purchased his hands on your shoulders and replied, “I do see that. But I’m trying to tell you that I love you. That’s what’s important to me right now.”
“Oh.”
Your reaction made JJ recoil in regret. He backed away, getting cold feet, and said, “You know what, forget it.”
Before he could run like he always tried to, you rose on your toes and kissed him until you couldn’t think straight. JJ didn’t hesitate to pounce, smothering you with kisses as he returned your energy tenfold. 
His distracted hands were out of his hair and in your own for a second, just before slipping downwards. He couldn’t decide where to put them. Touching your bare skin, his fingertips found purchase at your very exposed waist, cursing at how beautiful you looked in this damn mini skirt.
You gasped into his mouth when he had the strange idea to hoist you into the air like you weighed sheets of paper and set you on the sink. Your fingers wildly got lost in his mane, legs locking around his hips, and the kiss deepened.  
Funnily enough, it wasn’t the first time that you’d kissed your best friend, much less in a bathroom. You had made out more than a few times growing up and hooked up once. Maybe twice.
None of it was supposed to mean anything. You were just trying to figure yourselves out while experimenting on each other. After a while, though, JJ told you it had to be the last time. You figured it was because he didn’t need you to experiment on anymore, because that was when he started to make his way around the island. 
That was the day you realized you had feelings for the one person you were forbidden from having feelings for. When it was too late. You tried undoing the damage, but you were past the point of no return. 
And you had been ever since. 
Warmth made itself known in your chest, your heart skipping a beat. She was singing a tune and calling out his name. You were so dizzy with love. 
“I love you, too,” you told him with a wild grin, breaking away. 
JJ playfully groaned, “What took you so long?”
In your head, you were wondering the same thing. “I’ve loved you for so many years,” you sighed. 
“Why didn’t you just say that?”
You retaliated sharply, “Why didn’t you?”
JJ threw up his hands. “Alright, alright. Good point. Great point, even.”
You giggled, pecking his lips.
JJ nipped behind your ear, grinning slyly when you sighed contentedly. If memory served, that was always the spot for you. He purred into your ear, “I want you more than anything right now.”
Your eyes flickered. “You want to hook up in Topper Thorton’s bathroom?”
JJ chuckled at the mere thought. “Sounds like perfect revenge, huh?”
You mulled it over. The asshole probably did deserve it, but that wasn’t what you were worried about right now. You were thinking about that day when JJ called it quits. 
Hands bracing the counter, you mentioned, “I thought you said we weren’t doing this anymore?”
“I say a lot of shit,” JJ responded, his body so close to yours that you could feel his heart racing. “And I only said that because I was scared. I felt myself getting attached to you in the wrong way and I just… fuck, I panicked.”
You appreciated the vulnerability that was being put into this conversation. Everything was on the table right now. His cards were flat. You were smiling like an idiot when you said, “You, JJ Maybank, are the biggest coward ever.”
JJ imitated your smile. “Only when it comes to you.”
For the longest time, you two just stared at each other’s lips. Then, JJ smashed his lips against yours again and you could feel the butterflies hyperactive in your gut. 
Well, you could always feel them when you were around him. But now they were being extra drama queens. 
The bathroom started to feel hotter, heat clouding the air. You were wholeheartedly expecting the mirror to get foggy and the windows too, had they (thankfully) not been covered by curtains. JJ’s hands were gripping your thighs and all you could think about was how you wanted to feel them everywhere. 
“Fuck me,” you whispered seductively. 
JJ had every intention of doing exactly that. “Whatever my girl wants, she’s gonna get.”
Your thighs tensed at those words. “You’re going to be the death of me,” you mumbled under your breath. 
Given the lack of space, it wasn’t much of a leap to make that he’d heard you. His breathy chuckle only confirmed your suspicions. 
Your heart was louder than ever when JJ peeled off your damp underwear and you didn’t even notice him adroitly stuffing them into his back pockets when they slipped by your ankles. If needed, he would follow you like a lost puppy the whole night just to make sure any creeps didn’t peek. 
Not to mention they were his favorite color. JJ almost growled. You were absolutely never getting those back. 
His hand slipped under your turtleneck, pinching your nipples none too roughly. You cried out in shock, finding his eyes, but all he did was chuckle. He always did do stupid shit like that. 
Then, JJ slipped two fingers into your pussy all while his other hand was still on your boob, and you moaned. You were internally thanking god that you’d decided to wear that turtleneck. JJ always had a thing for sucking marks onto your throat and you knew he would go ballistic if he saw those bruises. 
His fingers were so long and nimble, way too easy to fall apart on. The two times in a row that you’d had sex, he made you unravel either on his tongue or on his fingers. 
One day, you were hoping for both. 
You braced your hands on the counter, shifting left to right. Your whole body was unstill and it did things to JJ that had his cock twitching in his pants. His fingers attacked your sensitive bundle of nerves, knowing the perfect way to make you lose control. 
“Jay,” you said weakly, choking out your words. 
JJ audaciously invited a third finger to join the original pair and stroked them between your slick walls, simultaneously thumbing your clit. You tensed with sensitivity and braced your fingers on his shoulders, sighing while he taunted your sweet spot. JJ swore to himself, wishing he could mark up your throat, but seeing it was covered, settled for your thighs. 
Fire consumed your whole body. You couldn’t even think right now. His fingers were merciless, fucking you with a vengeance. Like they had something to prove. 
Much to your chagrin, your phone started to vibrate in your purse that you had hooked on the doorknob halfway through the first kiss.
Since he was the closest, JJ grabbed your phone from your purse and told you, “Answer it.”
Your eyes went wide. “What?”
“Hurry up before it ends,” he said, just before immediately returning to fingering you. 
You glanced at the caller ID then pressed the phone to your ear, chirping, “Hello?”
Sarah said your name and exhaled a sigh of relief before huffing, “I’ve texted you like twenty times! I’ve been looking for you everywhere and Kie said the last time she saw you was with Rafe. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
With JJ coaxing those dreadfully long fingers in and out of you over and over again, you were salivating, mouth too dry to speak. “Um, I’m okay. I went to, uh, clear my head,” you quickly lied through your teeth. 
“You don’t sound okay.”
“I promise everything is peachy. I was just running all over Topper’s house looking for the bathroom a minute ago,” you said shakily, narrowing your eyes at JJ from above.
Your best friend was sporting the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen in your life. Fuck, you were tight and gushing around his fingers, and he couldn’t wait to get his cock in you. 
“Good one,” JJ said none too quietly. 
Sarah asked, “Is that JJ?”
Apparently the bathroom was quiet enough for JJ to overhear her, because instead of shutting up when you shot him a icy glare, he raised his voice a couple of pitches and said, “Um, no, it’s actually not JJ. I’m… Jayla.”
“Jayla,” Sarah repeated skeptically. 
You were burning in a lethal combination of arousal and embarrassment. “Okay, so I might’ve fibbed. JJ and I are reconciling.”
JJ scoffed. That was one way to put it. 
“Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Sarah said, evidently more than a little confused. “Have fun with that, I guess.”
Your toes were clenching in your knee-high boots and your features tensed with mind-numbing pleasure, your phone nearly slipping onto the floor tiles. You stifled your moan with the back of your palm and squeezed your fingers around your phone, losing your mind a little. You bit your bottom lip, somehow managing a, “Bye,” in the midst of your muffled cries. 
You were quick to hang up the phone, sliding it to the very back of the counter, and finally let out a noise.
Now you could focus on what was important. Your impending orgasm prepared to sweep you under its current. JJ was intent on getting you there like he knew he could, strumming you to climax. 
You took a deep breath, which did absolutely nothing to stabilize you, and whimpered, “JJ.”
“I know, baby. You’re close,” he said, thinking back on the memories of you falling apart at his mercy. He knew what you at your peak looked like and this sight was familiar. 
He remembered being dumb and young with you, doing things you shouldn’t’ve but nothing that he regretted. He remembered drawing your body to the edge of the bed by dragging your legs and hoisting them over his shoulders, fucking you for hours while your parents were away. 
Every day he wished he would’ve never given that up. But he was a self-sabotager and he ruined things before shit could go wrong on its own. 
Your heart was beating frantically and your legs were starting to go numb. Merely seconds later you were climaxing with a loud cry of his name, and you only hoped the music reverberating outside the door muffled your sounds. 
“Atta girl,” JJ growled, watching your entire body go slack as your orgasm ripped through you. “Keep cumming for me. Just like that.”
His words made the whole room spin. It was a minute before you finally stilled, panting and breathing heavy and hard. 
JJ withdrew his fingers, sucking them into his mouth. You were practically salivating. “You still cum hard?”
“When the person making me cum knows how to get me off,” you mumbled through ragged breath. 
“Now I can put my dick in you,” JJ said wryly, grinning at your words.
You barely got the chance to catch your breath before JJ yanked you off the countertop and forcefully bent you over the sink, making you cry out in surprise. He knew that you liked it a little rough. Adrenaline pumped brutally through your veins when you heard him shuffling from behind you in an endeavor to slide down his pants.
Your core tightened with impatience. Every fiber in your being wanted his dick in you like yesterday. “Hurry,” you whined desperately. 
“Patience is key, baby,” JJ teased, though you could tell he was in a hurry just from the sound of him rushing to sink his underwear around his ankles. 
At least you thought he was in a rush, though you were getting the vibe that he was attempting to draw things out when he started to rub his cock between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your throbbing didn’t stop there; it got worse. JJ let out a less than quiet curse-like grunt or two and felt the heat rush to his cock. 
It felt as if he was toying with you, tantalizing you with the thought of fucking your brains out. Which was all that you could think about. You had the memories of him stuffing you full of his dick on repeat in your head and they were like a nonstop spinning cycle. 
Those same memories were on his mind, too.  Muffling your moans with his palm when he heard your parents pulling into their driveway and escaping out your window after making sure you were alright. JJ threw his head back and cursed, “Fuck, you always get so wet.”
Thinking about what it felt like to be inside you shattered the last of his self-restraint and you cried out when he started to finally - fucking finally - push himself inside of your cunt. Your legs were spread apart, giving him all the room needed to fuck you like he meant it. 
JJ was slow and steady in his approach, never wanting to hurt you more than you asked for, crooning, “That’s right, baby. Take my cock.”
In that moment, you decided you would do anything for him. There was nothing you wouldn’t give for your best friend’s sake, though after this, you were hoping he’d be a little more than that. 
Not too long afterwards, every inch of him was buried deep inside of you. Though you knew you could take him, you were glad that he had stretched you out with your fingers. JJ was far from small and he was elated that you’d taken his size like a champ. “That’s my good girl,” he said proudly. “It don’t hurt, do it?”
“No, baby. Never,” you whispered distantly. Like you were already half gone. 
Only when JJ grabbed your hips like you were going to try to run away from him did he set a rhythm and that was the exact second you started to lose what was left of your mind a little. He just felt so criminally good. 
Sometimes after a couple of drinks when you were really horny (and buzzed) you would touch yourself in bed, imagining his perfect cock was stroking you to climax. Your pussy gripped him, remembering every vein. It killed you to wonder if he got off to the memories and the thought of what could have been. 
Little did you know, JJ could count on both hands how many times he’d been there on the other side of the island, fisting his cock in his hands while your cries played out in his brain. He missed the way you would choke out his name when his hand was wrapped around your throat too tight. 
Just the thought of it got you wet. Like you were back in that moment again. “Jay, fuck. Like that. Don’t stop,” you said with half of your voice.
“Shit,” JJ hissed, slapping his hips into you even harder. You gasped when he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at your own reflection none too gently. “Look at yourself. Wanna make you watch.”
You did as told without a second thought. Sure, it was a little awkward to watch yourself getting fucked, but you immediately simpered when you saw how JJ’s face tensed with ecstasy and caught a glimpse of the hazy look in his stare. 
Your knees were knocking into the cabinet under the sink while you anchored your fingers at the edges of the counter, desperately attempting to seek purchase. The air was stuffy and the bathroom was too hot to breathe inside of. Your lips were parted, inhaling in between soft moans. 
JJ wasn’t exactly sparing in the way that he was fucking you and you loved every second of it. His pace was hard but it wasn’t too much, just at your limits. He kept watching you, almost like he was trying to breathe you in. Something about the sight of you making a mess on his cock tickled his brain the right way. 
As if you weren’t already struggling to breathe, JJ had the bright idea to grip your throat and cut off your exhale. The way you instantly tightened around his dick was very telling and he could no longer think. “Look at you, baby. My girl,” he whispered darkly. “Mine.”
Every time he called you his girl, you wanted to melt onto the floor or possibly down the sink drain. You loved being full of him and nothing but him. You loved feeling like you belonged to him. For a moment, it was that simple. Your whole body was owned by him and submitted to his touch. 
“Yours,” you choked out, not like you would have been able to say much even if his fingers weren’t around your neck. 
That riled JJ up a little too much. You shuddered when he landed a loud, resounding smack to your ass. The noise you made never left your throat. 
To say that JJ was a little obsessed would be an understatement. The wet squelch that filled the room with every thrust drove him mad with lust and there was no coming back down from that. You were squirming in his hold and the sight was to die for. 
The pleasure was killing you softly. For lack of a better word, everything just felt so right. He fitted inside of you perfectly, almost as if he was meant to fuck you. To say nothing of how he felt pressed against you. 
Sweat layered at your skin and you didn’t even notice, courtesy of the thick turtleneck keeping your upper half concealed, though you could definitely feel the moisture gathering at your back and between your boobs. He relaxed his grip and your neck and you promptly sucked in a breath, the feeling of his hand lingering at the base of your throat. 
The heat took you in and when your body could take no more you orgasmed again, weakly hissing out your best friend’s name as all of your strength died. You shuddered and shook, trying to get away from the stimulation, but JJ was having none of it and tightened his hold on you. 
For the longest time, you couldn’t even say a word. Tears fogged your eyes and blurred your vision, making everything around you a haze. You heard JJ’s euphoric sounds from behind, still wallowing in your heat. 
You were more than willing to let him use you to get off but you could tell just from the pitch of his voice that he was nearing finish and you were craving it with an overwhelming sense of need. “Jay, cum inside of me.”
JJ’s hooded eyes snapped open, as if he had been dreaming. “Don’t play with me like that.”
“I’m serious,” you said to him, smiling at his disbelief. “I want you to fuck me full.”
Now that you had said that, he was even closer than before, dangling over the edge and falling into you. JJ groaned. You knew exactly how to make him weak. 
His pace quickened, the urge to fuck you full of cum like you wanted turning him into something that resembled a beast rather than a mere man. You whimpered, sensitive, fiending for the afterhighs of sex. 
He was more than happy to give them to you, filling you with his load with a couple more quick thrusts and a guttural sound that shook you to your core. You moaned at the feeling of him stuffing you. 
For a minute or two, neither of you moved. You just wanted to stay like that forever. Then, JJ started to smother you with kisses and said, “You’re fucking perfect.”
You grinned, kissing him back. You felt so alive. 
“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up,” JJ said with a shocking amount of enthusiasm. 
Approximately fifteen minutes later you were stammering out of the bathroom with JJ in tow, his arm wrapped possessively around your waist as he led you back outside.
The sky was a lot darker when you stepped onto Topper’s front porch, the sun being closer to setting. Thankfully, given that it was summer, you had longer nights and every intention to milk the daylight for all that it was worth. 
That was until you heard a scream. 
Naturally JJ’s first instinct was to cage you into his arms until he knew if there was a threat. Your heart fluttered at the gesture, but the very next second, you laid eyes on that familiar cloaked figure that had first taken out the flock of cops gathered outfront.  
“Not good,” JJ said, running a hand through his hair. “This is, like, really bad.”
Flinching in horror, you snapped, “No shit.”
Blood pooled around the array of police cars and you caught a glimpse of Shoupe’s brutally slaughtered body, left there for dead like an animal. The bodies of his co-workers were posed similarly and also very dead, sprawled across the asphalt. 
Rather than get his hands dirty, JJ decided to reopen Topper’s doors and grab your wrist, shuffling inside with you behind. Feet slapping against shimmering floor tiles, you tried to match his hurried steps. 
When you neared the steps, you cried out, “Jay, what about everyone else?”
“They’ll figure it out,” he shouted, almost as if he didn’t care. 
That was jarring to you. You stopped halfway up the stairway, unimpressed. “This is very unlike you!”
JJ whipped around, braced his hands on your shoulders, and said darkly, “Look, we get stabbed, we can’t do nothing for them. So come on.”
You guessed he was at least sort of right and let him lead you upstairs, checking out no less than three rooms before you finally found a bedroom and locked the door behind yourselves. Both of you scurried to the windows, watching the disaster unfold from afar. 
Fight or flight got the better of most people. Topper was playing hero and walked up to the masked maniac without a care in the world, and whether it was a brave or foolish decision was debatable. You dumbass, you chided in your brain, already seeing how this was about to play out. 
He was daring, you would give him that much. You saw him say something that you couldn’t exactly hear, but from his lips it looked like, “Hit me with your best shot, motherfucker.” 
It all happened in a blink. You winced your eyes shut when you saw the masked figure cold-heartedly stab Topper in the gut, only to withdraw the knife and stab back a number of times you weren’t willing to count. You glanced away for a second, the last thing you saw being Sarah panickedly rushing over to Topper’s body. 
Then, a second one emerged, and it was like nothing you had ever seen before. Not even in the movies. They both cornered Rafe, whose aggression quickly earned him a sawing through the arteries. 
You gasped in terror, hiding yourself in your best friend’s chest. Though you weren’t their biggest fans, that made it no less difficult to watch. There was blood spilled everywhere almost as if it was pouring down from the sky. 
“Shh, it’s gonna be fine. Don’t look,” JJ consoled, rubbing your back. “Don’t look.”
You didn’t look. Matter of fact, you kept your eyes anywhere but near that window, choosing to stare at JJ’s face instead. His features were grim, and you could tell just from looking at him that everything wasn’t going to be fine. 
But for your own sake, you filtered those dark thoughts out. It’s gonna be fine, you repeated to yourself. Whatever JJ told you, you were inclined to believe. It’s gonna be fine. 
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screamforyani · 11 months
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Do you have any scream gp head cannons
do you have anyone in mind in particular? that would help :]
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screamforyani · 11 months
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(Across the Spider-Verse spoiler)
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