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#and i actually see LESS spiders than i did before
myhaikyuuacademia · 2 days
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Totally Fake | Ant Vaughn x reader (Heartbreak High) ||
This is officially a series haha, trying to make it slowburn-ish but let's see if i can hold myself back
Fake dating, fem!reader
@foxxyhun
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Thankfully you had managed to get Ant’s number by Friday, not so thankfully you spent all day chatting with him about stupid, irrelevant stuff and Not about what your gameplan was going to be. And if, IF, you were actually going to the party later this evening, he’d probably be too wasted to talk about it anyway.  Which means SLUTS was the last chance you had with him still sober and not hungover. Except you had no idea how to go about it, especially without drawing the attention of your friends who had been watching you like hawks all week. You were the first one in the classroom, anxiously ripping your notebook paper into tiny shreds while thinking about all the logistics. You didn’t get very far when you sensed someone sitting down next to you. “What did the poor paper do to deserve that?” Ant asked amusedly. “Wrong place, wrong time.” You grimaced and shrugged, immediately stopping and throwing all the paper shreds into your pencil case. “Oh no, don’t stop because of me, I’m sure it deserved it.” He joked before settling in his seat. “You don’t wanna sit next to your friends?” You asked, with a nod to the table they usually sat at. “Nah, I’d rather sit with my girlfriend.” He said casually. You didn’t feel very casual as you choked on your spit. God how embarrassing. It took you a minute to calm down, Ant worriedly asking if you were okay, and offering you some of his water, which you declined with a hand gesture as you were starting to calm down.  “Sorry, sorry, I’m fine.” You coughed out. “Actually, that’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” He looked at you, almost disappointed, “You’re backing out?” He assumed. “What? No!” You hurried to say. “I wanted to talk about lining up our stories and everything, ground rules and stuff, you know?” Relief flooded his face, “Ah, okay gotcha!” He seemed much happier. The class was slowly filling up and you were dreading the moment your friends would enter. “Well I already told pretty much everyone that you’re my girlfriend.” He added, catching you completely offguard as you watched the doorway waiting for the inevitable arrival of your friends. “Oh.” Surprised you turned your head to look at him. “Okay.” You added after a second. “What about your mom?”
“Nah, not her yet. But like, Spider and Dusty.” He clarified. Your face felt warm. “Did you tell them it was fake too?” You leaned in closer to whisper it, now that the class was almost full. “No.” He grinned at you conspiringly. You grinned back at him, his answer, and the way he looked at you, making your whole body tingle. “Oh. My. God.” Darrens dramatic voice came from opposite the table. “You two totally ARE together.” Amerie beside them looked satisfied with herself, while Quinni stimmed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. They sat down at your table while Ant put an arm around your shoulder, “Yeah, so what?” He asked. Your face was burning, as was the parts where his arm touched you. Darrens mouth wide agape, while Quinni looked just as excited as before. “Oh my god, y/n, that’s so cute!! Congrats!” She said, happily, but after a second she looked a little less happy and a little more confused. Disappointed, even. “But why didn’t you tell us?” She asked. “Thrill of a secret relationship I bet.” Amerie added, feeling much cooler than she actually was. “But really, him?” Darren pointed at Ant. Wow rude. Your brows furrowed and you leaned into the boy next to you a little more without noticing. “What do you mean? You don’t think he's cute?” Trying to paddle back Darren stuttered out something a long the lines of, “No, that’s not what I mean, I just, I didn’t think he was your type is all.” “well, to be fair, we never knew what her type was.” Quinni added. “She never told us who she was crushing on, or what she liked in a guy, or girl.” You nodded, she was telling the truth, you usually kept things like that to yourself. “Well, I for one, am happy for you two, though I totally didn’t get any vibes when I was asking for a slap band earlier this week.” Amerie said, crossing her arms. She sounded accusing, like she was about to interrogate the two of you, when thankfully Miss Obah asked everyone to pay attention and started class. Ant didn’t take his arm off your shoulder the whole time.
When he finally did, after class ended, you couldn’t suppress your pout. Logically, you understood it was so both of you could pack your things, but this whole thing didn’t feel very logical, no matter how hard you tried. So instead, once both of you had finished, you grabbed his hand and threaded your fingers with his. Still slightly pouting. He looked down at you and laughed, “What now?” “I think she’s upset you took your arm off of her.” Darren, eagle-eyed gossip lover they are, supplied. “Oh, really?” Ant seemed surprised and looked at you for confirmation. “Yeah, kinda.” You mumbled embarrassed, avoiding his gaze. He chuckled before leaning in close and whispering in your ear. “I’ll touch you all you want at the party later.” Your face was beet red. “Ant!” You whisper shouted, scandalized and wide-eyed. He just tugged you along with him, towards the school exit. “They’re so cute together.” You overheard Quinni say to Amerie and Darren behind you. “Something’s fishy.” Both of them replied in unison. You ignored it, keeping going with Ant. “What now?” You asked once outside the school gate, still holding his hand. Refusing to be the one to let go, actually. “Well, I have some time before the party starts, which, you totally are going to right?” He asked in such a way that you felt a no would break his heart, so you just nodded. How come you are immune to peer-pressure when it was your friends but not when it was the guy you’ve been fake-dating for less than a week. “Great! Well, wanna hang out until then?” You smiled. “Sure!! Oh, we can talk about the logistics of it all, like when did we even start dating and what church do I go to? Or is that even something that’s important to your mother?” You dragged him along, totally rambling at this point about all the different things you had to decide on for the story to be foolproof. When you turned to look at him, waiting for him to say something, you noticed the way he was smiling at you. “Oh, what? Am I overthinking?” You questioned out loud. “No, no, it’s fine. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much.” He still looked at you in a way you had trouble deciphering. “Oh. Well, I guess I don’t talk a lot. Usually. But also we haven’t really spoken before this week so…” You trailed off. “Hmmh, yeah, but we’ve been in the same year for a while now.” He said, before turning back to look at the way ahead. “You usually only talk when spoken to.” Oh. He had noticed that? He had noticed you? Before you ever talked to him? “Oh, um. I guess that’s right.” You squeezed his hand subconsciously. “I like hearing you talk.” He squeezed your hand back. “Plus, you’re so smart, I wouldn’t have thought about half of the things you mentioned. Maybe we should write it all down.” You nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”
“Woah, your room is awesome.”  Ant was currently walking through your room looking at all the little trinkets that were… everywhere frankly. Picking them up and putting them down again. “Haha, thanks.” You sat on the edge of your bed, not knowing what to do with yourself as you watched him. “Woah, you like Marvel?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Uh yeah, I love it.” You laughed. He put the action figure down and turned around, very serious all of a sudden. “This calls for a movie night.” He explained. You grinned. “Sure, I’m always up for a movie.. But let’s talk business first.” You scooched to the side and patted the spot next to you. He groaned dramatically and walked over before sitting down. “Why does this feel like homework all of a sudden.” Your face scrunched up at that. “Sorry. But this is just so our story doesn’t fall apart.” He turned to look at you, head hanging to the side. “You really think it’s necessary?” “Well. Yeah.” You reply. “What if your mom asks us how we met, our what our first date was, and we say different things. Better to be prepared.” He pouts playfully, “Well, fine I guess.” In the end you agree on simple things, you met at school, duh, and worked a project together, after which you became friends, before Ant asked you on a date to the diner, and then a second date to the movies, before asking you to be his girlfriend. Easy enough. He said it was okay not to go to church as long as you were still acting Christian enough in front of his mom. Whatever that means. The reason he was only introducing you now was because you could disprove what was written on the map. You were scared of meeting his parents, so it had taken you a while to gather the courage, and he wanted to be sure before bringing a girlfriend home. Easy. Plausible. Good story. Boring, but believable. In the end you wrote it all down, twice, one copy for you and one for him, just in case you needed it. “Can we finally watch a movie?” He whined as you gave him his paper. “I don’t know, the party is soon, and I don’t know about you, but I definitely have to get ready. You think we can manage to squeeze a movie in?” He nodded, completely convinced. “How long can it take to get ready.” Not believing this was an issue. “Oh buddy…If only you knew.” You patted his shoulder before getting your remote and turning on the tv. It was difficult, at first, to concentrate on the movie, when he was so close and warm, shoulder against shoulder, and legs touching. Your body felt on fire. After a while he wrapped his arm around you too, pulling you ever so slightly closer, if that was even possible.
“Oh! I love this part.” He pointed towards the screen with the hand not resting on your hip. “What? No way, that’s my favorite part.” You looked up at him excitedly. “No way!” He turned to look at you too. You nodded emphatically. “You’re so cool.” He gave you a squeeze. He turned back towards the screen, and you did too, after staring at him for a little while longer. In the end, he ended up staying, watching you get ready, since there was no time for him to go home before Dusty’s band performed. “Whoa, wait, what is that?” You were about to put on your fake lashes, putting glue on the strip when Ant’s head popped up next to you, dangerously close to poking your lash with his finger. “My fake lashes.” You explained. “Your lashes are fake?” He turned to you, staring intensely into your eyes, inspecting your lashes. “No, well yes, sometimes. I have real lashes. The one you’re looking at right now.” You laughed. “But sometimes I put on fake lashes, which looks kinda-“ You  leaned towards the mirror to put your lashes on. “like this.” You said, leaning back to show him. “Oh my god that’s crazy.” He breathed out, totally stunned, which made you laugh even harder. After that he stayed next to you, watching you apply your makeup closely. “Hmmm..” You pursed your lips as you put the last thing in place. “I think that’s it.” You concluded.  Before you could even turn to the side to face him, his voice piped up as he asked: “Can you put some on me?” The request came unexpectedly, but you happily obliged. You opted for some chrome glimmery dark blue green ish, you didn’t really know how to describe it, glitter shadow to put on top of his eyelids. Dabbing it in softly, he leaned in closely and you could feel his breath on your skin. “Okay, try opening your eyes.” You requested softly, holding his chin in your hand and looking at him intensely, assessing your work. He opened his eyes hesitantly. Chewing on your lip you came to the conclusion that this look needed some black liner, so you added a line underneath his eyes on his waterline, dragging it out into a straight “wing”. A difficult job, with this being a sensitive area and Ant not used to having stuff put this close to his eyes. He kept squirming and blinking, but eventually you got the job done to your satisfaction. “This looks sick.” You say as you remove your hands from his face and lean back. Giving him time to admire himself in your mirror, you put away your brushes and powders and liners. “You want to do something to your hair too?” He turned to look at you at that. “Kinda.” You look on your phone to check the time, before grimacing. “Sorry, I don’t think we have time. Actually we really need to go if we wanna make it in time.” You stand up and hold your hand out to him, pulling him up from where he was sitting. Your friends were definitely going to give you shit about barely reaching out to them later.
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depresseddepot · 1 year
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not to sound dramatic or anything but magic is real and I know its real because I swore a contract w the spiders in my room about a year ago to never purposefully harm them or let them come to harm so long as they ate all the other bugs in my room and now anytime someone purposefully kills a spider near me I am momentarily possessed and have to literally restrain myself from tackling the person who did it
#this post is meant to be silly but to be clear i am AFRAID of spiders#so for me to now have a knee jerk reaction to injure MYSELF to protect a spider as a result of an ''agreement'' is. fascinating#like. did i make an actual contract w these spiders? im cool w it if so but i didnt think bodily possession would be included#the agreement is like a year and a half or so old at this point but honestly 10/10 would reccomend. i have almost no bugs in my room now#and i actually see LESS spiders than i did before#we are now Allies#anyways this post was prompted by finding the biggest fucking spider crawling up my sock#and having the mental fortitude to force my fear down like i literally swallowed it and took her outside#normally if they're small i just let them disappear (out of sight out of mind)#and if they're big (wolf spiders are common here) the rules are: if you aren't bothering me i won't bother you#like i had a spider (not wolf but similarly big) that lived in an unused closet for a while#and every morning he would crawl across my sharp shitty ceiling very slowly and then crawl back#and like. he wasn't bothering me. he was just going for a walk#however: touching me or my stuff is off limits#my bed and my desk and my body are places they are Not allowed#i dont kill them still obv but they will be escorted outside#the big big ones i always take outside bc they would die indoors anyways (not enough birds? or whatever they eat. theyre huge)#sorry i got carried away#swear agreements with the spiders in your house and profit#get possessed occassionally but its fine#i also have an unspoken contract with yellowjackets but nothing formal yet#one day when i have a yard ill have contracts w lots of stuff. yellowjackets and bees and stray cats and snakes and possums#i don't like talking to people but i do like creatures (so long as they aren't touching me (<- prone to the heeby jeebies))
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forever-rogue · 1 month
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TASM!Peter thought I cannot get out of my head for the life of me: Reader pestering him about him and his weird spider abilities like Ned in the MCU movies, but he’s just so loving and patient because he knows he’s weird and she’s naturally curious
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AN | Imagine finding out your boyfriend is Spider-Man. It’s going to leave you with a lot of questions, isn’t it?❤️
Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader
Warnings | mild language
Word Count | 2.8k
Masterlist | Main | Peter
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Peter?”
“This isn’t what it-”
“No way!”
“Babe, this is not. I”m not-”
“Holy fuck.”
“Please, you’re dreaming. I’m not actually-”
“Spider-Man,” you blinked a few times and scrubbed at your eyes just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. But when you looked back at your boyfriend he was still standing there, halfway between the window and bathroom, mask in hand and spandex still covering his body. He looked entirely mortified at having been caught, “Peter.”
“Honey, it’s not…I…” he hung his head and let out a long sigh, annoyed with himself for being so careless, “I’m sorry.”
“You’re Spider-Man,” it was all setting in and you weren’t quite sure how to feel; it was a wild mixture of excitement and annoyance and worry and love - everything all at once, “I…you never told me. We’ve been together for almost three years.”
“I know, sweetheart…it was just better than way,” he tossed the mask onto the couch and took a few steps closer to you. You tensed up and shook your head, “I just wanted to keep you safe. That’s all.”
“You lied to me,” you pouted at him and that was enough to break his heart. If there was anything he hated in the world, it was seeing you upset, “for years.”
“I didn’t lie,” he tried softly but you huffed at him, “purposely. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. Everything I do is to protect you.”
“I feel so stupid,” you scrubbed a hand over your tired face in exasperation. All the weird quirks and odd comings and goings seemed to make sense. It felt almost silly that you hadn’t put the pieces together before. Peter wasn’t exactly subtle, “all this time. The random bruises and cuts…the times you suddenly have to leave - your weird schedule. It seems so obvious, doesn’t it? I…Peter Parker.”
“Baby-”
“You’re trying to keep me safe but what about you?” a deep frown settle on your features and Peter shook his head, trying to keep you from going down that particular train of thought, “oh my god. Anything could happen to you! And what if…if something did happen, how would I know?”
Peter gently shushed you, his strong hands settling on your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze. You looked at him, studying his big honey brown eyes and tried to keep the tears in your own eyes from spilling over, “nothing is going to happen to me, I swear it. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“It isn’t funny,” you sniffled as a few tears ran down your cheeks, quickly and tenderly wiped away by Peter, “I love you, you dumb bug. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” he whispered, brushing his knuckles along your cheek, “you know why?”
“Why?” you huffed softly, reaching for his hand and bringing it to your lips so you could press a kiss to it.
“Because I have to get home to you,” he smiled softly, looking more boyish than anything. You exhaled slowly but nodded, “I’m always going to come home to you. There’s nothing I want more.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” he agreed and you allowed yourself to relax slightly, “by the way, spiders aren’t bugs. Spiders are spiders…well arachnids but they’re a completely separate thing.”
“Fine, you big dumb spider,” you let out a small laugh before playfully rolling your eyes, “you’re just lucky you look in spandex.”
“Yeah?” he teased, turning in a circle and striking a pose, “you think?”
“Shut up,” you groaned as he laughed, “just come to bed with me. But just so you know, this conversation isn’t over.”
“I would expect nothing less, love.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It took some time to get used to the idea of Peter, your sweet, nerdy, wonderful boyfriend, being Spider-Man. He just never seemed capable of something like that but when you really thought about it, it all made sense. Peter was brilliant and had a kind soul; him helping people just went hand in hand with who he was. 
You weren’t sure if you’d ever get over your worries that something would happen to him - just like he wanted to protect you, you wanted to protect him. That, however, didn’t negate the fact that you had numerous questions for him. You wanted to know everything you could about him well, his spider abilities rather. 
You were curious, luckily Peter loved that curiosity. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Where do your webs come from?” you’d been wrapped up in the book you were reading but the question suddenly hit. Peter was sitting across the couch from you, doing some work on his laptop. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, causing your face to warm up, “I just…you have webby stuff, right? Like…where does it come from?”
“Web shooters,” he answered simply, closing his laptop with a soft laugh and giving you his full attention, “it doesn’t come out of my body, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But spiders have it-”
“Not a spider,” he reminded you as you closed your book and tossed it on the coffee table, “human-spider hybrid. Kind of. I think that’s what you’d call it.”
“Why don’t they call you Human-Spider-Hybrid-Man?” you made a small sound of surprise as Peter reached over and gently maneuvered you onto his lap. His large hands settled on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “wouldn’t that be more accurate?”
“You’re overthinking it,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I don’t make it in my body. I make it at the lab.”
“My genius Human-Spider-Hybrid,” you grinned at him and he couldn’t help but return the smile. To say he adored you was putting it lightly, “will you show me sometime? I wanna see it in action.”
He cocked his head to the side as he let go of your waist and held his arms up. You looked at him in confusion and he pulled back the sleeves of his sweater, “they’re right here.”
“Oh,” you reached for one of his arms and looked over the small band around his wrist, “oh? I always thought they were just…bracelets.”
“That’s the point,” he said as you made a small sound of revelation. You held his hand in yours and gave it a tight squeeze, “it’s really not that exciting.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” how could he think being Spider-Man wasn’t exciting? You took his face gently in your hands as you studied the pretty boy, “you are always fascinating and exciting to me.”
“That’s because you love me,” he put his hands on top of yours and give them a squeeze, “you’re biased.”
“I do love you - very much,” you agreed, “but I’d still think the same regardless, Peter Parker.”
He paused before nodding slightly, “I love you too.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Peter could feel you watching him, despite your best efforts to remain subtle. It should be noted, however, that your best efforts were pitiful; you might have been openly gawking at him. He stopped what he was doing and turned to you with a small little smirk on his features, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“That’s your area of expertise not mine, Parker,” you weren’t going to bother denying that he’d caught you. You walked over to the kitchen and hopped onto the counter, swinging your legs back and forth as you watched him finish putting away the dishes, “but you make a pretty picture.”
“And yet still not nearly as beautiful as you,” he put the last mug into the cabinet before turning on his heel and pressing a kiss to your cheek, “why were you watching me like a creepo, huh?”
“I wasn’t watching you! Not like a creepo,” your cheeks warmed up as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek, “I was just…admiring.”
“Uh huh,” he teased, settling his arms on the counter and caging you in, “ admiring. You’re cute. Now tell me what you’re really thinking about.”
“It’s stupid,” you offered him a sheepish smile but Peter just tutted at you before nudging his nose against yours, “promise not to laugh?”
“I promise,” he whispered sweetly, “you know you can tell me anything.”
“It’s a question,” you paused for a moment, “are you like super, super strong? ‘Cause aren’t spiders like proportionally strong?”
Peter leaned back and laughed softly, causing you to gently shove his shoulder. Not that it would matter - he was basically unmoveable. He grabbed your hand and laced his fingers through yours before you could say anything, “sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to laugh - I’m a horrible, terrible liar. It’s just…you’re precious.”
“Shut up,” you couldn’t deny that inside you were beaming from his praise, “I am not precious! Just curious.”
“I’m pretty strong,” he explained softly as you nodded, “maybe not the strongest being in the galaxy but its up there. I can show you sometime.”
“That’s why you can move things so easily,” it made sense now, why he never seemed to have an issue with moving the furniture or carrying in all the groceries at once, “wow. You’re amazing. The Amazing Spider-Man.”
“Not amazing,” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you off the counter, easily and effortlessly holding you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and looped your arms around his neck, “just basically a mutant freak.”
“You’re my mutant freak,” you buried your face in his chest, but not before pressing a kiss to his neck, “that I love, very much.”
“The mutant freak loves you very much too,” you could feel the laughter rumble in his chest as you allowed yourself to melt into him, “curious girl.”
“Can’t blame me,” he could feel you grinning against his skin, “not everyday you find out boyfriend is Spider-Man.”
“True,” he agreed, “I’d be pretty shocked if I found out my boyfriend was Spider-Man.”
“Peter!” this time you were laughing too as he started to walk you both down the hall towards the bedroom, “where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” he rasped, “I can show you how strong I am.”
“Oh,” you felt your entire body warm up, “yes please.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was late at night, but you weren't feeling too tired just yet. You were in bed, staring at the ceiling and deep in thought as Peter laid next to you reading. You liked listening to him make some small sounds as he read and the sounds of the pages turning.
“I'm not a mind reader but you're thinking much too loudly,” Peter stole a quick glance at you, causing you to scoff loudly as you rolled onto your side so your back was to him, “honey.”
“Mind your business, Parker,” you burrowed further into your pillow, “I was just staring at the ceiling.”
“Hmm,” he mused softly, “what's your silly question of the day?”
“Excuse- first of all, my questions aren't silly,” you sat up right and crossed your arms over your chest, “and secondly, you're Spider-Man! I have a million questions. Don't be a jerk.”
“I am not,” he insisted through a few giggles as you smacked him with a pillow. You knew that you'd never hurt him which just made the situation all that much more ridiculous, “I love your curiosity. I love all the little things that cross your mind.”
“Now you're just pitying me,” Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled in between his legs so the the two of you were facing one another. He put his large hands on your calves and gave them a gentle squeeze, “Pete.”
“I love you, you know?” He asked softly as you nodded. If there was anything you knew in the world it was that Peter Parker adored you to no end. But then, you loved him just ask much, “you never gotta worry about asking me anything. So come on baby, tell me.”
“Fine. Fine,” you groaned softly before mumbling your question to him, “can you like stick to walls and stuff?”
You'd said it so quickly and fast that Peter hadn't caught what you were saying, “pardon?”
“Ugh,” you huffed, “do you have the ability to crawl on the walls and ceiling like real spiders? Or is something your weird mutant DNA didn't get.”
Peter tried his best not to laugh but he could barely stop the corners of his mouth from quirking up, “yeah, babe, that is something I can do.”
“Whoa,” you watched as Peter stuck his hand to the wall and showed you how it stuck, “that's so cool. Kinda gross but cool.”
“It's definitely gotten me out of a few scrapes before,” he admitted, “I'll take you for a ceiling walk some time.”
Your face lit up with pure excitement before your brows furrowed in confusion, “will our kids have your spidey thingies? What did you call it the other day? Spidey senses?”
Peter had stopped processing anything you were saying as soon as he’d heard our kids. It had stocked something deep within him. He only came back to reality when he felt you tickling his side, “our kids? What do you mean our kids?”
“Oh,” your cheeks warmed up as you bit your lips and shrugged lightly, “I dunno, I just think about it sometimes. You know, one day we’ll have kids. We’ve always talked about that. Unless…you changed your mind?”
“No!” he said much too quickly as a small smile tugged up the corners of your mouth, “I haven’t changed my mind. I-I want kids. With you. Only you.”
“Good,” you relaxed slightly as Peter’s entire face turned bright red, “so what do you think? Will they be part mutant spiders?”
“I don’t know exactly how that works,” he whispered as he pulled you closer to him, “maybe it would be inherited or not. I’m not a geneticist.”
“No,” you shook your head as you took his hand in your face, “just a biophysicist and biochemist. Hardly anything to brag about.”
“I’m basically a professional clown,” he grinned as you traced your fingers along the contours over his face. He was so pretty and you loved getting to have him just like this, gentle and quiet and all yours. He took one of your hands in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “luckily I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you too, Peter Parker,” you pulled him into a tight hug; if he had been a normal person you might have crushed him a little too much. Luckily, he was able to withstand your embrace and tenderly hugged you right back, “my Spider-Man.”
“All yours,” he agreed easily, “all yours.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was spring now, and the nights were gentle and warm, finally not filled with rain as they seemed to have been the entire winter. You were leaning out the window and taking in the sights and sounds of the New York evening. 
You heard the door to the apartment open, followed by Peter’s familiar footsteps. Before you could turn around to greet him, you felt his arms wrap around your waist as he pulled you into his chest and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You sighed softly as you pressed your body into him, “hello my love.”
“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered into your ear, “what are you doing hanging out the window?”
“Just admiring the city,” you turned around so you were facing him, “and now I’m admiring you. I’ve got another question for you, my spider.”
“Which is?”
“Will you take me swinging?” you asked softly, a nervous little expression on your face. Peter’s face grew into a large smile as he nodded eagerly. He’d imagined what it would be like with you loads of times before. He never thought he’d get to make it an actual reality, “but promise you won’t drop me?”
“I swear I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised, “and I promise you’ll have fun. Whenever you’re ready, just say the-”
“I’m ready,” you said excitedly as Peter laughed softly, “can we go now?”
“Yes,” he kissed your cheeks, “let me go and change. Then we’ll go swinging.”
“You’re the best, Parker,” you grinned at him, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” he looked at you with soft heart eyes, “my spider girl.”
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beenbaanbuun · 2 months
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nudes w/ yunho
words - an amount
genre - smut
warnings - nudes, dom!yunho, degredation, finger sucking, masturbation
——————————————————————————
A smirk grew on your face as you read over the text you’d just received from your boyfriend.
‘Can you stop sending me nudes?’
You sat there in your lace underwear set, a wet puddle forming between your thighs as you thought about all the things he’d do to you once he was home. He was very big on punishments, much to your enjoyment. Sometimes, you went out of your way to annoy him, just so you could spend the night under him as he played with your body as if it was his own personal toy.
‘Why?’ You shot back, fingers slowly making their way down to your core. Technically you weren’t supposed to play with yourself without Yunho’s permission, but what he didn't know wouldn’t hurt him. And if he did know? Well, it's not like the consequences would be anything you wouldn’t be more than happy to deal with.
‘I’m at work, Sweetheart.’ Despite his kind words, you knew that he was seething. You could see him when you shut your eyes. Jaw clenched and eyebrow raised as he breathed heavily through flared nostrils. Just thinking about his anger made another wave of desire surge through you. As you trailed your fingers around the edge of your panties, you couldn’t help but notice another gush of slick coming from your twitching hole. God, you couldn't wait for Yunho to get home.
‘I just wanted to show you my new panties.’
Your fingers made their way beneath the soft material and your breath hitched as your fingers caught on your clit. A breathy moan made its way up your throat as you toyed with the little nub for a moment or two, gently rubbing circles before pinching it lightly. You imagined it was Yunho, but your hand felt completely different to his. It was smaller for a start, and you could never play with yourself in the same way he did. He could make you squirm in a way you didnt even think was possible.
If making you cum was an art, your boyfriend had mastered it. You, on the other hand, were still learning, and bringing yourself to the edge was much harder than he made it seem. Even on those nights that he simply refused to touch you, inspecting you carefully from across the room with a smug smirk, it was so much easier for you to cum. At least then there was a firm voice instructing you where to move your fingers, whether to add more or less pressure, and exactly when to do so. Now, you felt lost. Without the presence of Yunho, there was no hope for you.
The initial pleasure soon dissipated and in its place came disappointment. You were just aimlessly touching your clit now, a frown present on your face as you pleaded with whoever was up there that Yunho would come home from work early. You were certain that all you needed to cum was a firm hand and a deep voice to push you to your limits.
Yet even with your lack of ability to push yourself to the edge, it wasn't until your phone chimed that you actually removed your fingers from your panties. You brought them up to your face, carefully studying the way they shimmered with your slick. You spread your middle and your index fingers, watching as your arousal stretched between them like a spider's web on a dewy summer’s morning. It was pretty, in some sort of weird, erotic way, and you couldn’t help but admire it. Not for long though, a thought suddenly striking you and pulling you from your trance; Yunho would make you lick them clean.
That’s all it took for you to guide them to your awaiting mouth. You pushed them to the back of your throat, almost gagging on them before you closed your lips around them. It didn't taste particularly exciting - you were all too familiar with the taste of yourself by now- but it reminded you of your boyfriend nonetheless. Of all the times he’d choked you with his long fingers after pulling them from your creamy hole. So with a smile on your face, you circled your tongue around your fingers, sucking all of your slick off of them.
As you did so, you lifted your phone up to your face, and read the latest message from Yunho.
‘You don’t know what you’ve got yourself into, Sweetheart.’ You had to grin because yes, you did. In fact, it was the knowledge of what he may do to you that led you to orchestrate this whole situation. You wanted Yunho to dominate you, and you wanted it bad. The lack of power as he controlled your mind, body and soul tempted you like nothing else. The way he can so easily seize control of you, reducing you down to nothing but his puppet was something you desired to no end. It was as peaceful as it was exciting, hushing your mind until there was nothing left but him.
So yes, you knew exactly what you got yourself into.
‘Hurry back before I cause any more trouble.’ It took you a while to type it out with only your non-dominant hand, but Yunho waited for your reply anyway. The moment it sent, you spotted the three little dots that let you know he was typing. It felt good to know that you had him wrapped around your little finger, just like he had you.
‘Already on my way.’
The words popped up onto your screen and you grinned, knowing that he’d soon be there to take care of you. You turned your phone face down on the bed and closed your eyes, simply letting yourself relax into the buzz of excitement that flowed through your body.
———
It took Yunho a little over 30 minutes to get home, by which time, you'd fallen asleep. It was no secret that over the years you spent with your boyfriend, you'd developed a little bit of an oral fixation, specifically when it came to his hands. Having his fingers pressed to your tongue always seemed to put you even deeper into a submissive headspace; despite your fingers not comparing to the length, girth or warmth of his own, they still helped you relax deep enough for you to fall into a quiet slumber.
“Jesus, Sweetheart,” were the words that woke you. Deep and smooth as always, coming from the man you loved most in the world. He sounded like chocolate, making you all warm and fuzzy on the inside. “After all that, you’ve passed out on me. Couldn’t even wait a few minutes for me to come home, hm?”
You mumbled something. Nothing of any particular meaning, but it made your boyfriend coo anyway. He always found you cute when you first woke up.
“If you’d behaved earlier, I might have let you sleep,” He said, and through your sleepy haze, you recognised the familiar condescending tone he usually used when the two of you were in bed together. Despite the fact that your brain was still coming to terms with being awake, you could still feel the ache in your pussy kick in again. “Unfortunately, my sweet girl isn't so sweet after all. Nasty little whore needs teaching a lesson.”
You subconsciously spread your legs, giving him access to the place that you so desperately wanted him. The display made him let out a low chuckle, which in turn made your hips buck slightly. Just the sound of his voice was enough to drive you crazy with need.
“Yun,” you whined, the words coming out jumbled, your fingers still pressed firmly down on your tongue. Only now did you crack your eyes open wide enough to get a good look at him. He was all dressed up in his dress shirt and slacks, sleeve rolled up to his elbows and hands in his pockets. He looked just as handsome as he did ‘in-charge’ and you loved every second of it.
“She speaks,” He squatted down so that his face lined up with yours. You couldn't help but notice how pretty he looked with those long black bangs sitting on his brow bone and that cruel glint in his eye that warned you of just how much trouble you were in. “Shame you can’t use that brain to follow instructions, huh?” The question was rhetorical, but you nodded anyway.
You felt a warm hand wrap around your dominant hand’s wrist and pull. With a pop, your fingers were finally free from your wet cavern, but not for long. You watched with the utmost interest as Yunho opened his own mouth and encapsulated your fingers inside. He hummed deeply, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tasted your spit on your fingers. His tongue moved on its own, lapping at the appendages as if your saliva was going to be his last drink. It felt so dirty, but he didn't even blink an eye. It's as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
You never knew that your fingertips were an erogenous zone, but the feeling of his tongue trailing along them only served to make you wetter. You squeezed your thighs together, ignoring the painfully loud squelch as you did so. Your panties were embarrassingly soaked, but you couldn't help it. Not when Yunho was acting like the embodiment of temptation itself.
“You taste so sweet,” he mumbled as he pulled his mouth off of you. When he opened his eyes again, you couldn't help but notice that his pupils were blown out, lust taking over his face entirely. You couldn't see yourself, but you were almost positive that you were faring no better. “And that's why you’re my sweetheart, sweetheart.”
You gave him a sleepy giggle as he went back to lapping at your fingertips with the tiniest of kitten-licks. His tongue danced along them, dipping in between and swirling around the tips.
“I love you, Yun,” the words slipped from your lips before you could stop them. He smiled. A proper smile full of joy and love. It made your heart pitter-patter giddily.
“I love you too, Sweetheart,” He leaned forwards to offer you a sweet kiss to the lips. It was short lived, but it made your heart flutter like you were a schoolgirl receiving a letter from her crush. When he pulled away, his eyes were much darker, and that fuzzy, gentle feeling was replaced with hard, powerful lust. You swallowed hard as Yunho let a twisted little grin paint his face, “but I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”
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pandoraslxna · 8 months
Note
ohh my!! \(°o°:)/ I loved "sharing is caring"! , I was wondering if u could do more spider smut, please!!(no rush tho! <3)
The Na‘vi way
adult Spider x female recom reader
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Words: 2.7k
Summary: To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. But to dress like one? That was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done.
Warnings: explicit smut, just a small size difference, oral (f receiving), masturbating, fingering, praise kink, teasing, sexual tension, semi-public, hair pulling, tail pulling, Spider is a smug little bastard
Notes: I just realized that I completely forgot about Spiders mask so let’s just pretend he can breathe just fine without it… 🤦🏻‍♀️ Anyways, as you can see I‘m still not that confident in my ability to write for Spider and it somehow feels like he’s not as characteristically accurate as Id like him to be, but I still hope you guys will enjoy this! Let me know what you think pls I’d love to improve my spidey writing skills lmao 🥴
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"This is ridiculous…", you mumbled as you peered down on yourself.
To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. To be fair, it was an easier said than done task for your squad. But to dress like one? This was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done!
Spider thought it was amusing, watching the recoms get used to wearing loincloths and such, all in order to put themselves into their enemies position. That was, until it was your turn to get dressed. Or, well, get undressed.
Spider couldn’t help but stare at you for a good while, now wearing a loincloth and also a skimpy woven top that barely covered more than a few inches of skin. You were seemingly having a hard time getting comfortable with your new clothes, as you were trying your absolute most to hide yourself with your arms crossed over your chest.
He was used to seeing omatikaya women in less coverings than that, but still. There was just something about you showing that much amount of bare skin that had him feeling a little dizzy.
Snapping out of his thoughts before you could even realize that he was ogling at you, Spider cleared his throat, "It’s not ridiculous. Now you actually look like true Na‘vi."
"Lookin' good, buttercup", comes from beside you both, with a snickering laugh that made your cheeks light up bright red. "Fuck off, Wainfleet", you grumbled, "Let’s just get this over with…"
The idea was, to spend an entire day learning how to hunt, with nothing more than a bow and arrows, while also being dressed like a bunch of wannabe Na‘vi. Truth be told, Spider didn’t know if that would actually help them dealing with Jake, but it wasn’t like he was ever planning on actually helping them and betray his (more or less) adoptive family. After all, he was nothing more than a prisoner of war and maybe that was his payback for the way they had treated him so far. Couldn’t hurt to make a little fun out of a group of recoms that had no idea what they were even doing out here, right?
For someone who wasn’t even used to handling guns and such, you did pretty well with a bow.
As far as Quaritch had introduced his squad to him, Spider knew that you were some sort of combat medic, usually just jumping around to treat injuries and make sure nobody dies under your watch. You worked with the military, but you weren’t a soldier. You were also around an head or two smaller than the other woman, Zdinarsk or whatever her name was, which was a nice change, because for once Spider didn’t need to crane his neck entirely to talk to someone. You were pretty much eye level with him, in more than just one way. Compared to the others, you were friendly and kind, and at least you tried to be thoughtful of the environment out here.
When the eclipse neared, the recoms began to set up a small camp in the forest to rest for the night, finally done with todays 'lessons'. There was a river gurgling by and when the Colonel gave permission, you separated from the others to get washed up and redress.
"Oh, no. No. That’s not happening", Spider shakes his head at Lyle who was currently about to set up a small campfire. "What now, pinky?", the recom barks at him, haltering all movements to look at the human with painted on stripes.
"No fire in the forest, bro. That’s an unspoken rule. You’re gonna get us killed if—", Spider tried to warn him, but was cut off short, by the sound of someone calling his name in the distance. Turning to it’s direction and then back to Weinfleet, he points a warning finger at him and says, "no fire", before he’s off to whom had called him.
A little further away, down at the river, he finds you. Your brows are furrowed in what seems to be concentration and frustration at the same time. As he steps closer, he spots the source of your distress.
"Spider, oh thank god. Could you help me with this, please", you grumble, your hands busy fumbling with the tangled cords of your loincloth. "I can’t get this shit off…" The blonde can’t help but laugh when you groan in frustration.
"You have to untie it like this. No, no like—", he tries to verbally guide you, but you seemingly make things worse with the way you impatiently pull at each tiny knot, the strings now tangled between your legs and over your hips. It’s a mess.
"Here, let me help you", Spider then sighs and lowers himself onto one knee before you.
Normally, the woven cords that hold the cloth covering your crotch in place are supposed to be wrapped around your tail. Thanks to whatever you did, or tried to do here, they were now wrapped and tangled around one of your thighs.
"Open your legs a little", he tells you and you do as your told, making room so he could untangle you from this mess. One of his hands is firm on your thigh and you try to ignore the warmth of his palm and the way he unintentionally squeezes the soft of you flesh, while his other hand flips your loincloth up. "Hold this", Spider doesn’t wait for you to respond, already shoving the piece of fabric into your hands to hold it up and out of the way.
He’s entirely too close like this, you think.
You could feel his breath fan over your skin, his thumb on the inside of your thigh, while his other hand reached back and forth between your legs, slowly untangling you.
You had to admit, it’s been a while since the last time someone came this close to you, which made the whole situation so much… worse. Adverting your gaze from the man crouching in front of you, you tried to think of anything else than his hands so incredibly close to your private parts and the way it made you feel so on edge, that you had to concentrate on your breathing.
Meanwhile, Spider attempted to find something to focus on other than the textured rope holding the two halves of your loincloth together. It rode low. Pinching the flesh over your hipbones, like it was squeezing, teasing. There was also his hand, both of them entirely too close to your—
Glancing up, he found your eyebrows scrunched together as if you were concentrating very hard. You looked up at the sky and your chest raised and fell in deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm yourself.
You couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried.
With a hand still firm on your thigh, Spider gently squeezes the soft flesh to test the waters. A smug grin spreads on his face when you don’t immediately tell him to stop, your eyes still glued to anywhere but him. He knows it’s risky, knows it’s probably not the best idea, but he can’t help himself. His hand moves a little higher, until his thumb is barely an inch away from the thin cloth covering your sex. He traces the outline of your cunt, just a teasing touch that, if your senses weren’t on high alert already, you wouldn’t even have noticed.
A small gasp escapes you, when he adds a little more pressure on his thumb, but you still don’t tell him to stop. You only shift your stance slightly, your hands still holding the front of your loincloth in a tight grip. A task for which you were grateful for, otherwise you wouldn’t even know what to do with your hands.
Spider gently brushes his digit over the thin covering between your legs, feeling the delicate outline of your clit, until a small wet patch formed right there. A mouth watering sight. He watches intensely, how you let your head fall back, how you squeeze your eyes shut and a deep blush spreads on your blue cheeks that made them look a little purplish. He had to admit, you were adorable like this.
Dutiful to his task, he then pulls his hand away in order to untie the final string, and your loincloth slowly falls off of you.
"There, all done", the blonde says softly, smiling up at you. A beat passes in silence, with just the two of you looking at each other, and Spiders hands still firm on your thigh. Your lips are parted slightly, as if you were trying to say something, but your voice was nowhere to be found. His thumb rubs gentle circles over the soft blue skin of your inner thigh, and you exhale a shaky breath. The blush on your cheeks deepens, when his gaze falls to the glistening folds of your cunt, right in front of his face, and then back up at you.
"Can I?", he asks, to which you nod and whisper a breathless, "please."
It’s all he needs to hear to return his hand between your thighs, index finger swiping through your folds to locate your clit. His fingertip circles the tiny nub gently, while he pays close attention to the buckle of your knees when he touches it just right. Arousal begins to heat up your blood as he slides his digits from your clit to your entrance. Your breath hitches.
"You’re so wet", Spider murmurs, grinning, "Did you enjoy walking around like that today?"
"Shut up…", you whisper, although it sounds more like a whimper to him. With a chuckle, he continues his teasing touches, running a hand up and down your thigh while the other smears your slick back and forth.
His fingertips are featherlight as they tease the little nub of pleasure, drawing circles around it before he slides them back and dips them into you– just an inch, and your legs tremble. There’s a sound coming from deep within your chest as he repeats the same motion again, and it almost sounds like—
"Are you purring?", Spider snickers, "Fuck, that’s so cute." Before you can talk back however, his face inches closer and then his tongue darts out to give a kitten lick to your clit. Instantly, your hands fist into his locks to anchor yourself. A breathless moan slips past your lips once he flattens his tongue against you, groaning at the taste.
"Spider, the– the others…", you swallow thickly, trying to collect your rapid breathing, "they’re going to hear!"
"Hmh", he hums in agreement, glancing up to give you a teasing wink. "Guess you‘ll have to be more quiet then."
His mouth his back on you in a heartbeat, lips closing around your clit and then he sucks and your eyes flutter close in bliss. You have to bite down on your bottom lip, hard, in order to stay quiet, but it only gets worse when he finally inserts a finger into you.
"Oh, holy shit", you moan, quickly clasping a hand over your mouth.
Then, he wriggles a second finger in beside the first one, and starts to ease them out together, then back in, a slow, slick push. You squirm, high pitched moans falling from your lips, muffled against your palm, and then a choked and breathless noise as Spider settles into a slow rhythm, pushing in deep and curving to brush something inside you that has you clenching greedily around the digits.
Meanwhile his tongue continues to lap at your clit, rolling it over every inch of the wet, warm muscle before closing his lips around it again. He sucks, kisses and slurps and it’s so obscene, you can barely look.
It feels so good every time he curves his fingers into you, hooking and pressing at that special spot, that you don’t even realize how hard you had been pulling on his hair. But Spider doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he’s groaning into you like he enjoys this more than you do.
Your mind felt fuzzy, clouded with the squelching sounds he expertly worked out of your pussy until you were gasping and panting for air.
"S-Spider I‘m– wait, I‘m close, I’m gonna come", you half whisper, half whine, tugging his hair to make him stop for a second to look up at you.
His pupils are almost completely blown as his gaze meets yours, the bottom half of his face glistening in your slick and that smug little bastard has the nerve to smirk like a cat that got the cream.
"And?", he raises a brow, almost making a show out of licking his lips clean.
"You didn’t, I mean… you still haven’t–"
"That’s why you’re making me stop?", he chuckles like he can’t believe it, but then his eyes flash like an idea pops up in his mind.
The hand that had been resting on your thigh moves, slides down your leg before it finds the waistband of his own loincloth. With half lidded eyes you watch him pull his cock out, hard and leaking pre-cum in rich droplets that ooze from the slit of his tip, and you catch yourself swallowing at the sight.
Spiders hand closes tight around his shaft, giving himself a slow tug that makes him moan softly, and then his mouth is back on you. He’s stroking himself now, to the rhythm of his fingers that are pumping in and out of you. The low groans coming from him vibrates against your clit and you throw your head back at the pleasurable feeling.
He’s incredibly skilled with his mouth, you realize, aiming just right with the pointy tip of his tongue as he swipes over your clit in fast, tight circles. With the way he simultaneously scissors you open, it’s no surprise how quickly he can get you close again.
"F-Fuck, oh fucking hell", you moan in a whisper, "So good, feels so good! Oh– my god!"
Spiders cock throbs in his fist at the sound of your praise and he strokes himself faster, harder, teasing the slit with his thumb, imagining it’s your tongue instead. His eyes are shut and his brows are knit together in concentration as he makes out with your clit, feeling it twitch on his tongue and your walls spams around his digits.
He’s full on groaning, grinding his face between your thighs as he feels his own orgasm approach, he just needs a little more, just—
"C’mon, pretty. Come for me", he muffles almost desperately against you, fingers curling against your sweet spot at just the right angle and then you tug on his hair to get his lips back to your clit and that’s all it takes. With a hand clasped tight over your mouth to muffle your screams of pleasure, coming undone on his tongue, clamping down on his fingers and sending him clean over the edge with you.
Hips raising and pushing up into his fist, Spider comes with a choked off groan, sucking on your clit so hard it felt like you were going to collapse if he didn’t let up anytime soon.
"O-Okay, okay, fuck– Spider, s-stop", you half giggle, half moan, before he finally withdraws from between your thighs with a last kiss that makes your hips buck into it.
"Holy shit, where did you learn that?", you laugh breathlessly, genuinely impressed, as you watch him rearrange his loincloth and straighten back up.
But Spider just shrugs sheepishly and grins, "Well… it’s hard being the only one of the very few humans in the village. I had to find some way to impress, you know?"
"Hmh, I see", you giggle, nodding along. There’s a moment of comfortable silence that follows, and as you bend down to pick up your clothes. But then a warm hand settles on your hips.
A smiles tugs on your lips.
"I could show you what else I’ve learned", Spider murmurs, tilting his head to meet your eyes over your shoulder. You glance back at him, watching as he steps closer until his crotch makes contact with the curve of your ass. "Could show you the real Na’vi way." He smirks, then adds, "If you want."
His fingertips trace the arch of your spine until he reaches the base of your tail, where he closes his hand around it and tugs, firm but gentle. But it’s enough to send a full on body shiver through you, and your eyes widen in surprise as you feel a familiar tingle between your thighs.
Well. That’s new.
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luveline · 10 months
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Hi Jadey!!! I was wondering if I could request Miguel and our spider girl saying I love you for the first time❤️
of course!! hope this is ok<3
You've asked Miguel if you can sit in his lap a hundred times when he's at the workbench, and every time he's said no. 
You decide you won't ask. 
Not bothering with hello, you wrap your arms around him from behind, tucking your face into the warm crook of his neck. He actually lets you, better, he covers your wrists with a hand where they cross on his chest. 
Encouraged, you ease around his chair to the side. Using his shoulder for solid leverage, you climb into his lap, his wide thighs like sturdy logs under your weight. 
Before he can say, Hey, do me a favour? Get the fuck off me, or even just lift you up and deposit you into your own chair, you nuzzle into his chest and stay there, uncharacteristically quiet. The hair at the back of his head tickles your fingers as you hug him loosely. 
"Is everything okay?" he asks. 
"Worried about me?" you tease. 
"Where do I start?" 
You laugh into his collar breathlessly. He's always been funny, even if he's a bitch about it. He's pedantic and childish at times. A chronic overreacter, but usually right, Miguel sets a new precedent on how stubborn human beings can be. And you love him. 
You're spoiled when he puts down his things and hugs you back. His embrace is relaxed for once, a docile quiet lingering between you as he starts to rub your back. It feels shamefully nice. You slouch into him like jello, totally boneless and uncaring about how you might appear to anyone else, eyes closed and face flat to his chest. 
You breathe in his smell. 
"I wanted to tell you something." 
He actually laughs like a normal person, without sarcastic derision, his sincerity like a kiss as he asks, "What sort of something?" 
"Something stupid, probably. I want to tell you, but I'm thinking it might gross you out."
You can practically hear his startled blink. "Really?"  
You hum. Miguel's hand slides down the side of you that isn't pressed against his ribs to your thighs where you've thrown them over his. 
"I'm sure it's not that gross," he mumbles, like he can't quite hide his own doubt. 
There, right there, you hear a hint of Miguel before. You can't know that, obviously, but his voice lacks even a hint of bitterness, the insecurity of a normal guy being presented with the unseen. It's sweet. He's reassuring you, though he probably thinks you're about to tell him you have a less than attractive ailment. 
You've tricked him in a way. Maybe he'll react better to your real confession now. 
"I love you, Miguel." Your hand toying with the soft neck of an old t-shirt, you murmur, "I know you know. I've been sweet on you since the first day I met you, everyone knows that, but I love you. You don't have to love me back or anything, but I wanted to say it."
"I do love you," Miguel says. He doesn't miss a beat. 
You breathe in huge and hard and he must feel it. He's charitable enough to ignore it. 
"Wait," he says, "was that the gross thing, or was that padding to make the gross thing less gross? Ay, coño, did you get fleas from Sandwich?"
"Peter's dog, Sandwich?" you ask. 
"I told that imbecile to stop bringing his dog to work." 
"I don't have fleas," you say, sitting back to give him a super judgemental look. "You love me and you think I have fleas?" 
"I'm kidding," he says, smiling at you, lips parted so you can see his teeth. He takes your face into his hand roughly but not without love, smoothing it over your ear. "I don't think you have fleas."
"You're ruining a nice moment. We were having a really nice heart to heart type moment and you ruined it with a joke about fleas. How could you?" 
"How could I?" he asks, voice softening to a murmur as he ducks in. "I don't know. Is it really ruined?" 
"What do you think?" you ask, lips an inch from his, your noses touching. 
He kisses you. It's almost like a bite. Quick and firm and pulling you forward as he retreats. "I think we'll recover." 
You laugh and tip your head back to allow him better access, your heart like a hummingbird in your chest. Miguel smiles into your lips, maybe the happiest smile he's ever given to you as he kisses you again.
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weebsinstash · 10 months
Text
I'm sorry but I can't stop thinking about a certain angsty idea
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Like pretty sure this is implying getting married is a canon event? But in a way, doesn't that kind of, really strip the choice and actual love and magic out of it? Or, could you at least understand the idea of a Spiderperson who may feel that way? Did you genuinely fall in love with someone if it was "supposed" to happen? And the universe could fall apart if you don't so you arent really even given a choice to say no? Isn't that like having a preprogrammed robot instead of a true lover?
Still kinda obsessed with the concept of a Spider Reader where you didn't get scouted by Miguel until after you had already lost your loved ones, but, it's clear that some Spiders are scouted before they have all of their events (Pav), and, I can't stop thinking about, you're in the Spider Society and making friends and having fun and stuff and you're. Still supposed to get married or have a relationship or something and you're just, completely avoiding having anything at all, not even dating anyone, nothing really feels natural to you and you just don't really want anything?
Months and months and months pass and you've turned multiple people down in your home dimension and Spiders at the Society are told not to interact with you in certain ways, which becomes overboard when no one ever seems to want to hug you or even high five you or touch you at all (because "oh don't let them get a crush on you, they can't break canon" or some dumb paranoia) which just eventually develops into isolating you from the Spider Society, and they all think, "ok good they'll spend more time at home and then start the route for this canon event and we can talk to them again" but it just. Doesn't happen. You're starting to show up to the Society less and less but the only thing that changes when you get back home is a loneliness that you fill with a pet and some platonic friends
Peter B is trying to "subtly" nudge you. "Ya know kid, aren't you in your 20s now? Isn't it time you try and, I dunno, get into college or something? You've got so much potential!" as he willingly omits how he met his wife in college and maybe it's in the model that you could meet your spouse there too as a potential option
But I like the idea and already lowkey established concept that canon changes and has tweaks here and there and can be bent in certain ways so, imagine like, idk, imagine Reader already being with the person who is supposed to your soul mate, and, you find out about The Model or whatever, the Arachno Humanoid Poly Mutiverse or whatever, and you just realize kind of on accident that, oh having a relationship at all is kind of just another prison for you to be in, huh? Another choice stripped away from you, another thing that made you feel like a rubber stamp in existence in the weird copy/paste Spider Society. So you just. You don't intentionally bomb the relationship but you become so extremely depressed and refuse to talk about it with your SO that they actually leave you, making the choice independently, changing canon but not breaking it
But here's Miguel, which I guess you could imagine as a protective obsessive romantic figure or even platonic parental, and he's all but grinding his teeth because, as he sees it, you're not only risking completely breaking your canon which you know Would Fucking Kill You, but, why are you constantly shooting down what are supposed to be good changes for your life? No relationships? No college? No aspirations at all? Why are you not living up to your full potential? He's so frustrated because he KNOWS you could "be better than this" and that you're "supposed to" be better than this, but you just seem. Depressed and defeated. He wants you to be better because it's better for your life, your future, your safety (even if depending on preference it absolutely gets under his skin to see you with anyone else romantically or sexually)
And I have no idea how they would externally force you into some kind of relationship but, I've also thought about, alternatively, the tried and true "Reader lost their home dimension but somehow didn't disappear and lives on Earth 928B now" (the movie specifics its 928b ok, pet peeve I know, 928 is comic Miguel, 928b is ATSV movie Miguel) and eventually, somehow, your bracelet comes off one day and you're about to freak out and it's like, wait, you aren't glitching??? Why aren't you glitching? I mean, you're happy to not be in pain and flashing colors, but, this doesn't make sense? And you don't wanna tempt fate but you don't bother to get a new bracelet or, other people are around to witness this weird event and so, Miguel is immediately investigating what happened. I imagine maybe they scan you with the Go Home Machine and it's just like "ha ha yeah you're home already :)" you know like some "Dimensional Match: 928B" and the machine doesn't even activate, it just scans you with the drone, is like "yeah you're good lmao" and goes back to sleep
And now Miguel is like, you know. Understandably concerned because now there are two Spiders for Nueva York, but, also, he's just like, unbeknownst to you absolutely over the moon necause if you're technically a part of his dimension now, maybe you can complete your canon and have some sort of happy ending. But. Miguel never had his wedding either? Or at least not the "true" one, like how Peter moves on from Gwen to Mary Jane? Cue Miguel suddenly spending suspicious amounts of time on his platform in the dark looking at holograms and algorithms and asking Lyla to calculate the probability of you two maybe becoming spouses for each other
AND YOU'RE SO FUCKED IF IT SAYS YOU CAN LMAO. Cause now not only is he all the more obsessed with you (you were BROUGHT to his dimension by a miracle, can't you SEE you're destined for each other) but now it's "don't you understand? Not only are we MEANT for each other, you don't have a choice! You CANT break canon!" And he's fucking putting a finger in your face and lecturing you about how, you know what, it's ok if you're scared and you're not ready. You know why? Because you two were made for each other, and, he must have been made to be this strong so he can protect you and make decisions on your behalf, right? It's all in The Model. It's all in God's Plan. The two of you are going to get married whether you think it's the love you're fantasizing about or not, and Miguel is more than thrilled that he was essentially just handed a certified excuse to keep you all to himself on a silver platter
Also. I guess this is preferential but. Imagine if Earth 928B's solution to two Spidermen, like how Miles' "corrected" itself with getting rid of blonde Peter, what if the universe and canon just went, "actually it's all cool though cause technically one of them isn't going to technically in name be a Spider anymore, they're going to be forcibly turned into a cute little pampered house spouse" and ON GOD he's getting children out of you if you're capable of it and that ISN'T optional. He's thinking you can start at AT LEAST three babies and then talk about how many more from there? He's always wanted a large family with lots of cute little girls and boys, you know 👉👈
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slowbison · 10 months
Note
request/fic idea:
reader jokingly puts a bell on miguel o’hara since he approaches so quietly and tends to startle you and the other spider-men. he tolerates your humor for a bit since it increases the work morale
little did he know that the bell will be jingling all night as you fuck him mercilessly
a/n: my mind loves miguel as a cute cat with the little bell on him, but he’s also a good puppy too. hope this was to your likings regardless.
i also turned this into a lil fic, hope ya don’t mind, stranger. >;]
Bottom! Miguel O’Hara x Top! Male Reader
words: 2.7k
warnings: praising, feminization, anal sex, butt plug, smut
The room was dark and slightly cold when you opened your eyes. You were in a bedroom, specifically Miguel’s bedroom, looking down at the other man softly sleeping, wrapped around your arms. It was one of the many shared things you do, alternating between realities of sharing apartments, much less beds. Though you were more so in his than your own due to the man’s unhealthy work balance.
Carefully peeling your arms off, you reached into the dresser of the nightstand, ever so slightly opening it to avoid making loud movements. Reaching in, you pulled out a collar and deliberately grabbed around the little bell to suppress any possible noise.
You quietly moved to lay on top of him, adjusting his head as you tried to slip it under him to correctly put it on. Deep in concentration, you steadily lifted his head careful to-
“What are you doing?”
A mistake, you should’ve used a distraction.
You froze, hearing the man underneath you sigh, opening his eyes. You locked eyes and began an intense stare down, not willing to move a muscle and Miguel solemnly staring hard into your eyes with a tired expression. What felt like passing years to you, as you both refused to break eye contact was only a minute before Miguel clicked in annoyance. Face contorting in slight anger.
“Eres tonto, I’m not a fucking dinosaur, I can see you.” He gritted between his teeth, eyes changing into daggers. Sensing that you couldn’t fool him any longer, you quickly put on the collar around him before he could react fast enough. He grabbed your arms just as you buckled the collar, locking it around his neck. Miguel bared his fangs at you, bringing you closer to his face.
“Tell me right now what this is or I’m throwing you out the damn window.” He hissed. You brought your hands up, ultimately surrendering because he will actually throw you out, he’s done it before when you kept pestering him while he worked. Pushing random buttons and obnoxiously loud chewing, he swiftly picked you up and threw you out an opened window, shutting it closed behind him. You brought gifts and apologized for three days straight before he allowed you near his home again.
“Calm down love, just wanted to surprise ya with a gift” You grinned, reaching out to push the little bell, giggling as it rang leaving a little to be amused expression drawn on the other man’s face.
“Your gift is essentially a cat collar. I’m not wearing it.” He deadpanned, moving to remove it from his neck. You quickly stopped him and jabbed a finger at his chest.
“Hey, this is what you get for sneaking up on me for the past week!” You huffed, giving him an accusatory finger as the other man swept a hand down his face.
“No, I haven’t been. Give me one good example” He sighed, leaning against the bed frame, crossing his arms waiting for your so-called proof.
“Oh, you want an example huh? Let me give several actually.” You said, clearing your throat as you began. Miguel groaned.
“First, I was making dinner two nights ago and you just stood right behind me! No, hi, hey or honey, I’m home!”
“I called for your name and you didn’t respond, so I went to check.” He defended.
“And that gives you the right to give me a heart attack?”
Miguel grumbled and turned his head to the side, mouth frowning. “I ain’t done mister,” you said, grabbing the side of his face to turn back to you. “What about the countless times you scared everyone by spawning out of thin air?”
“I didn’t spawn in, I walked in and if you all couldn’t react to that then get back to training.” He stated, raising a brow. You could feel yourself losing and grabbed your phone off the nightstand, flipping through photo albums, determined to show evidence.
“Look, you photobombed a group picture then disappeared when we checked behind us and reappeared in front!” You exclaimed, showing a photo with you along with a few other spider people posing and a tall dark blue figure standing at your side. The next picture was everyone turning their heads back to look at you, with the last picture being Miguel’s body covering half of the frame while everyone scrambled to leave or falling to the ground — the latter being you.
Miguel let out a chuckle at that before resuming his usual stone face demeanor. You gave him an incredulous look, smushing up his face with your hands.
“You owe me one Miguel and this is an easy way to pay me back, yes?” You smiled, watching the man huff.
“This is unprofessional and you’re only doing this because you find it funny.” He jabbed, moving his hand to feel the collar around his neck, ringing the bell accidentally.
You grinned at the frown on his face, “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t, but are you going to wear it?”
Miguel rolled his eyes and grumbled at the thought of actually going through with it, but after a few kisses and gentle petting, he ultimately agreed to wear it. You cheered and got out of the bed to get ready, excited for what’s to come while Miguel slowly trudged behind you, hand on the collar.
You had to split off from the man once you both arrived at headquarters due to patrolling your own world for any crime activity and helping a group of spider folks with tracking an anomaly. While you were searching for the anomaly, you fell into a conversation with them and they couldn’t help, but stir thoughts about Miguel that you’ve never really considered.
One spider spoke of how hilarious it was that you managed to convince Miguel to wear the collar. You laughed along with that, but the other spider said that if you could get away with putting a collar on him, what else is stopping you from putting him in more get ups. After that you fell quiet, thinking of several more ways the collar could complement.
Miguel always had nice slim hips, perfect to grab and keep steady as you plow him to oblivion. Thighs that were always so firm yet quivered under your touch as he tried helplessly to continue riding your cock after cumming numerous times before.
You could feel yourself heat up at those thoughts, a burning desire to see his delectable thighs wearing something… with lace, a nice matching bra that would drape across his chest. Your mouth starts watering at the idea. The cute little collar bell would still be on him as you fuck him stupid. You could feel yourself get light headed at the thought, but turned out to be a robotic tentacle hitting you, attached to the anomaly, Doctor Octopus in the wrong reality.
Feeling annoyed and frustrated that your daydreaming was so rudely interrupted, you jumped into the now ongoing battle with the other spiders. Determination to quickly capture the man and return back to Miguel with reinvigorated vigor. You were just really horny.
The fight had lasted quite awhile as the Doctor threw several citizens that required you to slow down and rescue, making you even more tense. A few concerns were voiced with your fellow spiders by your “enthusiasm” before silencing their worries as you trapped the mad scientist against a wall with your webs, tentacles incapacitated alongside. Finally glad the fight was over though a coiled knot still burned within you.
The others had decided to take over of putting the Doctor in a trap box while you left to return to Miguel’s apartment. He had sent you a text earlier while you were fighting that he’s continuing his work from home and not totally because he was hiding from Peter, who kept taking several pictures of him.
Slipping through the door, you stalked down into the hall searching for the man. Then you heard it, a soft ring coming from his studio room. You watched as he tinkered with a piece of equipment, lips pouting and face scrunched. He had changed from his suit to a more comfortable set of clothes, a loose tank top and sweatpants. From his side you could see a perky nipple begging to be sucked, coupled with some markings across his chest.
He gave a quick glance up before double taking at your disheveled appearance. You looked like a starved man that just found the most juiciest meal in the desert after a year.
Miguel audibly swallowed and lowered his gaze further down, landing at your cock straining in your pants. He gently set down his device, padding his feet softly on the floor as he walked up. Before he could say anything, you pushed him against the wall and attacked his lips. Bell ringing as you throw yourself against him, grinding onto his hardening dick with your own, groaning at the feeling.
He tried to match your intensity, running his hands through your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss but turned into a sloppily making out with teeth gnashing as you both continued desperately kissing. You ran your hands across his sides, tracing the muscles down his spine and slipped under the waistband of his pants to grab a handful of his ass, giving it a firm squeeze. A low whine escapes his lips at which you devour, motivating you to draw even more from noises from the man.
Kneading the mound in your hands, you hoisted him in the air, grabbing onto his thighs and making your way into the bedroom. Miguel always had a thing for you display’s of strength, especially when he’s put into a chokehold as you plowed into him or fucked him in the air — both times cumming incredibly quick.
Reaching the bedroom, you shimmied the door open and laid him down on the bed as you began frantically taking off your clothes, not wanting to separate from his body for long. Miguel followed suit and stripped himself of his tank top and sweatpants. Just as he was about to rid himself of his collar, you reached a hand out to stop him.
“Keep it on for me love, want to hear it going crazy while I fuck you.” You purred, Miguel’s face flushed out of embarrassment before nodding.
You were immediately back on him, latching onto one of those delectable nipples while the other toyed with nub, swirling and pulling it around your fingers.
Miguel keened at the feeling and pushed your head closer to his chest, watching as you left dark marks. Switching nipples, you slipped your hand down and wrapped around his leaking cock laid against his stomach. Running a thumb at the top of his cockhead and your fingers following, smearing the precome over his shaft. The pressure of Miguel’s orgasm began to build within him as he rutted desperately into your hand, chasing after the rush.
Miguel could feel himself starting to lose it, breathing stuttering and digging his nails into your head. “Ah- please mi vida, more, need to feel you in me.” He begged pitifully.
Releasing a piece of his meaty chest from your mouth, you met the man’s lust filled eyes, one’s where you could feel yourself pulled in. Then you heard it, the bell that was the center of your desires, thoughts of the man wearing god knows what with it came flooding back to you. Lacy lingerie, a cute cow costume, or maybe a maid wearing a bell. Mouth watering at the thought of fucking him in such outfits spurred you on.
“Of course darling, anything for my good boy who’d do as I say, right?” You cooed, digging into the nightstand for the half empty bottle of lube. Adding a generous amount on your fingers and his fluttering hole, easing one finger in gently.
Miguel closed his eyes at the intrusion, whining from the sensation and spreading his legs more. “Yes, anything for you, please keep going,” he panted.
“So good you’ll wear anything too, yeah?” You said, adding another finger, curling and twisting inside him.
Miguel huffed and visibly made himself relax as you stretched him out, groaning as you slipped a third. “Sí, te necesito en mi por favor” he whined, fucking himself on your fingers to prove a point.
“My baby is so impatient” you chuckled, removing your fingers from his puckering hole and lathered yourself with some lube. Tutting his hips wider for you, teasing him by rubbing the tip at his entrance. “Maybe I should get you a maid costume and teach you some manners.”
Miguel whimpered at your teasing, frustrated by your actions yet intrigued by your words. He never put much interest in wearing anything during your love making, but the implications of what you’d do to him rushed to his dick.
He was about to reply when you made your way inside him, groaning at the tightness and warm heat. Any words that were to be said, gurgled in his throat and a drawled whine emitting instead. You began to slowly thrust into him, peppering his chest with kisses.
“Fuck, you’d look so good in some lace too. Don’t you think, love? You always make anything look good on you baby.” You complimented, kissing and marking the side of his neck. Miguel whined and threw his head back, bell ringing as the force of your thrusts increased.
“Get you a matching collar and fuck you with it on. You’d look beautiful, shit.” You groaned feeling him tighten on your cock as you continued your barrage of compliments.
“You like that baby, my good boy, want to dress up all nice and pretty for me?”
Miguel struggled to formulate a reply, every word on his tongue came out too fast or went higher in pitch, coming out as a moan or whine. From the few things you could pick up from him were lost behind a language barrier, slurring his words and opting for just expressing himself with his body by matching your thrusts with his grinding. He could feel his orgasm building up quickly and wanted to beg you to slow down, but refused to end your onslaught on him. Letting a broken sob as he clamped down, doing his best to be good for you and wait for his orgasm.
Sensing his thighs quivering, and desperate attempt to bring you closer to the edge. You cooed into his ear at how proud you were of him for waiting and you’ll fill his cunt with your cum. “Doing so good for me darling, gonna come in that perky ass of yours.”
Miguel sobbed, mouth hanging open as he tried to plead with you to let him cum, body trembling underneath you. “You can cum baby, fuck, going to come soon” you groaned, chasing after your own orgasm using Miguel’s tight hole. The bell continued its frantic ringing that was drowned out by the sounds of your fast thrusts, hard slaps filling the room. Miguel cried out as he came, splattering over his chest, reaching up to the bottom of his chin.
He collapsed into the bed but still clenched, letting you use him for your own pleasure. You came soon after that, cum gushing into him before leaking around your cock, onto the sheets. The bell’s ringing had come to an end, only softly chiming whenever Miguel moved though the man seemed exhausted to consider doing that.
You slowly pulled out and watched your cum drip out of him, Miguel whined at the feeling of being empty. Moving to the nightstand, you grabbed one of the man’s butt plugs and sealed your cum within him. The man softly groaned before settling back down on the bed. You chuckled at his display and stood to get a warm rag from the bathroom to clean you both, removing the collar from his neck.
After that, you were both too tired to change the sheets and pushed it for your morning version problem instead, nuzzling a tired Miguel on your chest who softly spoke to you. “So, you want to tell me what that was.”
“Believe I said it all love, you’d look amazing in some lingerie. Maybe some costumes here and there as well.” You muttered, combing your fingers in his hair.
Miguel bit his lips, a faint blush dusted his face.
“One time… I’ll wear it for you once.” You grinned at his response.
“You’ve got a deal, love.”
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spdrvyn · 11 months
Text
parched — MIGUEL O'HARA
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(( I FINALLY WATCHED ATSV AAAGHHHH IT WAS SO GOOD !!! not gonna say anything because if i ramble it will 100% go into spoiler territory but it was probably the best movie i've ever seen no exaggeration. anyway, here's a small miguel one shot? drabble? spoiler-free :3 ))
READ PART 2 HERE.
You and Miguel led nearly entirely different lives.
He was constantly out and about. Putting his body, his mind through strenuous lengths for the sake of the people. For the sake of everyone. He sacrifices a piece of himself, bit by bit. Everyday. Just for everybody else's peace.
Your job almost felt a little silly next to his. After all, you were quite sure that being Spider-Man didn't offer a week of paid vacation. Which you were extremely grateful to have, by the way.
In all honesty, you felt the smallest piece of pity for him. You were able to catch up on your hobbies, enjoy shows that were put on your list for so long, and get more than 5 hours of sleep.
You knew that Miguel was barely getting a shred of that. How did you know? Even in two in the morning, while you were resting on the couch and catching up on yet another show, you hadn't heard him come in through the window that you normally keep open for him.
Worry seeps it's way into your brain as you try to focus on the pixels in front of you. Of course, you were scared for him. Everyday that he went out, the unexpected could happen and well... You didn't want to think too deep into it.
At least, your mind was distracted when you were working but now you were relaxing, the thoughts that you tried bury deep down under to the crevices of your mind were all coming back again.
It only concerned you more when throughout the week so far, you'd seen him less and less. On occasion, in the middle of the night, the click of a lock would alert you awake but before you could sit up and investigate, strong arms locked around your waist and a head pressed into your shoulder.
You sighed, reaching for the remote and pausing your show.
The worries, the yearning. It all gave you a swirling, growing feeling in your gut that you hadn't really familiarized yourself with. You weren't sure if you liked it, you weren't sure if you hated it. Though the way that it pierced into you like a newly sharpened spear just confused you even further.
Trying to focus on another feeling growing inside of you. Hunger and satisfying it, you hoped it would get all of this off of your mind as you lazily walk into the kitchen.
A reoccurring theme whenever you wanted a snack was once you actually made your way to the pantry, decisions were a foreign concept and your cravings were like trying to read binary code.
Instant ramen? Cookies? Chips? Ice cream?
Felt even worse this time when you hadn't particularly been exercising your brain recently, a mental note to yourself to be just a little bit on edge when you get a break like this.
You opt on giving up entirely, you slam the cabinet door, and turn around to get back to the couch until—
There's a weight against your back and waist, keeping you against the counter.
As you look down, you see the familiar shades of red and blue. Sighing, you look to a little over your shoulder and take a little peek. To see closed eyes signalled by Miguel's mask. The marks trembling shut, you feel his grip on you get tighter.
In a volume as close to a whisper, you break the silence, "Miguel? You okay?" Like you expected, he takes off his mask. Eyes screwed shut, brows furrowing as you can see the stress lines and deep circles under them.
He sighs but not out of being content, thumb tracing small shapes into your stomach. "Been so lonely, mi cielo."
Your heart clenches as that. That was right, you understood what kind of lover that he could be. Needy, clingy, these qualities festering even more each moment he spends away from you. You noticed how much he was holding back right now.
He normally liked to fix himself up before getting all comfortable and relaxed with you. Showering, brushing his curls, general self-care but the moment he came inside his first instinct was to go to you.
Those thoughts from a while ago that were nearly going to absorb you came back. To think the cold that Miguel had to endure out there from how tightly he wanted to absorb your warmth.
"I missed you so much. Me sentí tan solo, don't wanna let go."
You were going to respond but your mind practically short-circuited when he started pressing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. You let him indulge himself, just a little while.
Of course, his job terrified you sometimes but seeing him like this. Seeing him let his guard down, talking about how much he missed you, calling you his darling.
Perhaps Spider-Men had their own charm but Miguel's just got you wrapped around his finger like nobody else could.
For a brief moment, he nibbles on the flesh at the back of your neck. Pressing one last kiss, "Will get fixed up, then voy a demostrarte cuánto te extrañé después de todo este tiempo."
Shamefully, you didn't pick up learning Spanish yet from how much Miguel speaks it to you. Yet through context clues and bashfully asking him what the things he said meant sometimes.
You knew exactly what was going to come next.
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miguel-owhora · 5 months
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Something like one day Miguel assigns you some task and in the process you encounter a variation of his and you completely forget about your mission, then Miguel has to go look for you because enough time has passed, only to find you half unconscious and very stupid, with clear signs that another Miguel fucked you.
I was actually hooked on your idea idk idk
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TYPE — drabble
SYNOPSIS — what anon said
WARNINGS — 18+ , cheating but is it really cheating if it's a variant of your husband , cunnilingus , squirting , implied multiple orgasms/milking
FEM-ALIGNED READERS AND MINORS DNF, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.
COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE HEAVILY APPRECIATED.
TAGS — @sweetcorpse , @tophamhat-kyo , @villainousdelicacy , @realitylemon , @gayaristocrat , @gaynesspersonified
MORE — this idea literally has me foaming and slamming inside my cage
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This version of your home world isn't unusual. It's literally a couple years from '99, a couple years back into the past. Nothing unusual, nothing uncommon from your current year back in your original timeline. Swinging around your city is nice, the sky dark with the city lights polluting the night sky, preventing you from seeing the stars - that is, you never really did see them, unless if you went to the moon station. But that was only ever a privilege you got once you were older.
You spent majority of your youth in the underground part of Nueva York, living in the dark with only the city lights as the sun. You only ever stepped out whenever you wanted to rebel and when you went to college, and only ever moved out of the underworld - the name many called the underground of NY - when you got with Miguel. Bless his heart, as much as you adored your husband and how many years you've been living on the nicer side of NY - that is in looks, but just barely - you would always favor the underworld. You found that despite the reputation it earned, the people were always more real and down to earth than the people living overhead.
You shook yourself out of your thoughts and just barely swerved out of the way before you hit a pole. You swung yourself up and landed on top of a skyscraper of a building, landing in what many would dub the classic spider pose. You peered over the edge of the building, overlooking the city in all its glory. Nueva York, as a whole, no matter how corny you would sound right now, would forever hold a special place in your heart. The people, the food, the diverse mixture of culture and background - that's what made Nueva York, Nueva York: just a clusterfuck of everyone and everything.
After a solid couple seconds of surveying everything you raised your hand to look at your goober - despite what Miguel tried to get everyone to say, it was a goober at the end of the day, a damn watch if you want to be simple about it - and began to type in it. You read over the mission Miguel gave you, just a simple 'catch an anomaly and go home' type of mission It wasn't one of those big bad villains, just some guy. Didn't even have a name.
You snorted to yourself as you lowered your arm and stretched, grunting as one or two of your bones popped pleasantly, blood flooding back to wherever it needed to go.
"I didn't know we had a Spider-Man."
The sound of Miguel's voice nearly has you falling off the building, and hadn't it been for your ability to stick to surfaces, you would've been a splat of flesh on the floor. You whipped around, startled, and found yourself looking at your husband.
...Future husband, as this Miguel isn't - first of all - your Miguel and younger than the early thirties man you knew and love. But it was still technically your husband. Technically. Unless if this was one of those world's where you didn't go overhead and stayed in the underworld, or something along those lies, somewhere where you never met Miguel.
This Miguel of Earth-547, Miguel-547, was younger than your Miguel, a bit more youthful, but no less handsome. Perhaps in his twenties, with the telltale signs of a lack of sleep on the heavy eyebags underneath his dark eyes, perhaps from studying so much. The thought has you almost snorting but you caught yourself as you stepped down from the railing of the building, looking over at Miguel with a slight tilt of your head.
"You don't. Not yet, at least." You replied, eyeing him with keen interest, mission forgotten.
Miguel raises an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. You shake your head, snorting in amusement. He's Miguel, he's your husband, just like when he was younger, back when you first met him, back when you first roomied with him against your will.
"Who are you?" Miguel asks, and you can see the regret written across his face. This time, it makes you laugh, both at his face and at the question.
"That's.. that's stupid. Nevermind." Miguel mutters, face darkening in embarrassment as he lightly pouted - frowned, whatever, he has the same face for both feelings - and looked away. It's such a Miguel thing to do that you choke and cough, laughing, and wiping away tears that never meet your fingers, not with your mask covering your face.
"I'd tell you my name but..." You rolled your shoulders, placing your hands on your waist. "I think Miguel would get mad at me for revealing my identity, even if it's just my name. I don't want to mess with any canon event. You know how it is."
"I don't." Miguel replied, glancing back at you with a confused expression. "And Miguel? That's.. that's my name. I'm guessing you mean somebody else? And canon ev- what the shock are you even talking about?"
Oh the irony, you thought to yourself. "Something like that, sure, and it's a long story."
Miguel pursed his lips and gave you a look. You grinned behind your mask, the lenses to your mask squinting at him.
"But I can offer you something better."
This got Miguel's attention and you chuckled, still grinning. Gotcha.
Which is how you ended up in Miguel's dorm room, stuffed between his legs and eating at his pussy. His legs hold you firmly between strong thighs, keeping you trapped and stuffing your face into pussy - not that you minded of course. It's your favorite past time, and why would you deny yourself the opportunity to eat your man's cunt like it's your last meal? You'd be a fool not to.
Miguel's voice is breathless and whimpery, a hand holding the back of your face as he shamelessly grinded against your mouth. He arched his back and squeezed his thighs when your mouth attached to his swollen cock, sucking on the sensitive nub. Your tongue dipped into his hole as you felt him tremble and moan, incomprehensible words of praise and encouragement tumbling from his mouth as he came inside your mouth.
He tried to push you away once his climax passed over, but you didn't budge, merely using your enhanced strength to grab onto his thighs and gently push them down. The position made him even more open and gave you even more access to the sweet, delicious slick that poured out of him, which you didn't dare let a spare a single drop and eagerly slurped up.
"Hah - ca- shock! - cálmate, pinche perro!" Miguel moaned, his thighs tensed and twitching as he danced between pushing your head away and humping into your mouth. He moved when you slipped into two fingers and began to move them, thrusting them in and out of his pussy with a certain expertise that came with someone who's done this before, and sucked on his cock.
Whatever you did, however you learned it, was enough to rip an unexpected orgasm from Miguel that had no buildup and caught him off guard. Even moreso when he felt liquid shoot from his pussy and he went unbelievably warm, but shock, if it didn't make him stomach flutter. His cheeks darkened when he heard you obscenely slurp, drinking whatever liquid he squirted out.
"What - what the shock was that?!" Miguel breathed out after you finally pulled away with a pop. Miguel felt something hot and possessive curl in his stomach when he saw the bottom half of your face - the only thing you dared to show him, the upper part of your face was hidden by the mask you wore - was dripping wet with his fluids. He watched as you licked your lips; and Miguel swallowed.
"You squirted," You said calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You pulled your fingers away from his pussy and plopped them into your mouth, cleaning them of whatever slick coated it, and Miguel stared with wide eyes.
He slowly blinked and looked away, beyond flustered.
"I never knew I could do that." Miguel muttered, panting.
"Well now you do, use it wisely." You replied, amused, lips curled into a teasing grin. Miguel rolled his eyes, but not unkindly. Your eyes flickered from his face down to the rest of his body and over to the lower half. His pussy was slick and swollen, the dark hair neatly trimmed, looking and smelling and tasting absolutely delicious. That never did change about him, did it? You could spend all eternity between his legs, eagerly doting on his cunt.
You snapped out of your thoughts with a little grunt as Miguel suddenly hauled you off the ground and onto his bed, flat on your back. The lenses of your mask widened and your mouth went dry when Miguel swung himself over your lap, straddling you. Your hands instinctively fell onto his waist, so small and holdable, and nervously giggled, licking your lips that suddenly felt too dry.
"What's - what's all this about?" You asked, flustered. Miguel seemed to pick up on this and smiled, a little dangerous, a little fond. He slowly rolled his hips down, eyes gleaming when you softly moaned, your cock, hard in your suit, eagerly responding to some stimulation.
"Just a little treat. You ate me out..." Miguel's hand reached down to grab a hold of your cock, rubbing it through the material of your spandex. "...So I'll let you hit."
"Fuck." You whispered, breathless. Miguel just chuckled, eyes dark and smile dangerous in the way that made you fall in love all over again.
-
"Have you checked on [Name], Miguel?"
The sound of his AI's voice is enough to rip Miguel's attention from the holograms in front of him. His eyes feel dry as he gives a couple of blinks, vision straining from having stared at screens for so long. It takes a couple of heartbeats before Miguel could process Lyla's question and gave her a questioning look as she hovered near him.
"What?" He asked, intelligently, and totally not in a dumb way.
Lyla rolled her eyes, exasperated. "[Name]? Your husband? The one you sent on a mission?"
It was Miguel's turn to roll his eyes. "I know the name of my husband. Why are you asking if I checked up on him? He's reliable, he'll get the job done."
Lyla smirked in the way that told Miguel she knew something he didn't and could already feel his heart dropping to his stomach.
"What's wrong?" Miguel demanded, immediately on alert, his mind beginning to creep with different scenarios that made him stomach twist uncomfortablely.
"Nothing's wrong. He's fine, he's not hurt." Lyla paused and gave him a look over her heartshaped glasses. "He's just neglecting his duties for a variant."
Miguel processed the words and paused, eyebrow raising. "Variant?"
Lyla just smirked even wider, glitching and moving somewhere else, teasing. A set of coordinates appeared on Miguel's watch.
"Why don't you check it out?" Lyla chuckled, stuffing her hands into her pockets. "But just go alone, alright?"
Miguel didn't know if he wanted to strangle Lyla or himself. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.
He took a deep breath and rubbed his temple. He could already feel the telltale sign of a migraine appearing, and no, his lack of sleep did NOT contribute to it.
"Lyla, open a portal." He eventually sighed out, dragging a hand over his face to get rid of any drowsiness.
"You got it, boss."
The orange and colorful portal appeared in front of Miguel, lighting up his dark lab in a warm color, changing the texture of the area around it. Miguel took a moment to appreciate it, a moment to gather himself, before throwing himself in the portal.
He knew the world he sent you to was one of your guy's timelines. Just a couple years back into the past, nothing crazy. The whole mission was a simple one, even a newbie could've done it. He knew you could handle more, obviously, but the thought of you getting hurt, of losing you, that frightened Miguel. It scared him. And while he knew you'd get tired of basic missions like the one he assigned you, he wouldn't budge. Well, at least not now.
But he didn't think he'd end up in a rather familiar dormroom. Specifically, his old dorm room, in his bedroom. Familiar posters line the walls, little figurines scattered around, his old desk lined next to his bed and scattered with messy shit. It's nostalgic, and for a second, Miguel imagines himself as his fresh out of high school guy barely entering his college years.
What's out of place, however, is the body of his husband laying on his bed. He's not dead, thankfully, Miguel's eyes catching sight of the slow rise and fall of his chest, and if anything, seems to be half out of it.
His mask is pulled halfway up, from his nose and down being the only thing revealed. His lips are slick and bit, light bruises on his jaw. The pants of his spandex are pulled down far enough to reveal his cock, which lays heavy and flaccid on his stomach, and yet...
Miguel's cheeks darkened and his lips pursed when he saw the dried evidence of cum on your belly and cock. Miguel pixelated his mask away, sighing out of exasperation, even if his core squirmed in a familiar way.
Miguel walked the short steps towards his bed and hovered over you, taking in your frazzled and obviously worn out appearance. Miguel reached down and gently grasped your jaw, tilting your head to get a better look at you.
He was surprised when you softly groaned, squirming as you seemed to awake up.
"Miguel?" You slurred out, and Miguel then realized his variant must've had his time with you.
"[Name,] ready to head back home?" Miguel questioned, his voice quiet but a faint hint of affection tinting his words. Perhaps he should be jealous that a variant got to his husband, but he can't find it in himself. If anything, it was... kind of hot. But that was another thing for another time.
"Mm? Home.... wait-" You stirred a little, becoming just the slightest bit alert. "Which dimension?"
Miguel made a little exasperated face even if you couldn't see. "928."
You went slack, pleased with the answer. "Mkay, le's go h'me..." You slurred before promptly knocking yourself out. Miguel stared before slowly setting your head down. He gently pulled your mask down and stuffed yourself back into your spandex before scooping you up.
"Lyla-" He began but was caught off by the AI, who glitched into existent.
"He looks kind of cute. You're, like, his knight in shining armor - or would it be spider in shining armor?" Lyla mused as she took a couple mixtures of the husbands. Miguel didn't dignify her with a response as a portal opened up, illuminating the room in a warm colorful glow. Then, a thought crossed his mind and he paused.
"Did he even finish his mission?" Miguel asked Lyla, even if he knew the answer.
"Absolutely not." Lyla grinned.
Miguel took a deep breath but didn't get angry - he never did get angry with you, now did he?
"Send someone to finish it." Miguel asked as he slipped through the portal, his AI glitching out of air. Missions he damned, he had his own mission now: giving you the aftercare his variant failed to do, which, in his opinion, made him the best variant out there.
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all rights reserved © miguel-owhora
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kiame-sama · 2 months
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Little Spider, Fun and Games- (Yan!Chrollo x Reader)
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Warnings; fem reader, yandere, yandere behavior, yandere relationship, blood, murder, causal slaughter, mention of kidnapping, chronic illness (narcolepsy), troupe opinions, fluff with murderers, a bit of domestic cuteness, nsfw, somnophilia, rando insults reader, unnamed character death,
By selecting read more you consent to view the content included and affirm you are of age to view content.
If you are a minor, go the hell away. This fic is not for you.
~~~~~~~~
You shivered slightly as another howl of wind whistled through the building, metal struts groaning from the force. A sudden warmth wrapped around you and you glanced over to see Chrollo had placed his coat over your shoulders. Truly, you hadn't even been aware that he was keeping tabs on you, but it didn't surprise you to find out either.
Chrollo was always ensuring your needs were met and quickly taken care of regardless of the situation you two may be in. Luckily the current situation you were in was a familiar one, hiding out in some abandoned building until whatever heist Chrollo has planned goes into motion.
"You seem cold, Little Spider."
"Yeah, I am kinda cold. We don't usually go anywhere like this for a heist..."
"How about I warm you up?"
"Chrollo, not here..!"
"I meant by using my nen, dear. What were you thinking?"
You felt the flustered feeling in your chest as you tried to avoid eye-contact with him, knowing he was thrilled to be teasing you. He had been suggestive for a reason, and you walked directly into his trap. There was little more that amused Chrollo beyond seeing you get so adorably flustered by his absolute lack of shame and open flirting.
"Ugh," the scoff that came from Feitan surprised you as the troupe didn't often comment on the relationship you had with their beloved boss, "too damn cute, stop."
You were almost hurt by the callous words before you realized that he meant your interactions were quite cute. The two of you were being painfully sweet with your domestic behavior and casual flirting. Everyone in the Troupe found the relationship you had with Chrollo to be extremely wholesome regardless of his less than wholesome personality.
It was obvious- even to you- how much Chrollo favored you over anyone else.
~~~~~~~~
Waking up was usually very difficult for you, even on a good day. From the alluring pull of sleep to the rather comfortable feeling of a bed, everything worked against you. Even your lover was just another contributing factor to your constant desire to sleep.
Chrollo contributed to your need for sleep in plenty of ways, but the most prominent being his rather unusual appetite for intimacy with you. It did give you a twinge of pride to know that he was so addicted to you that he sought out intimate behavior and actions whenever he could. But Chrollo had more energy than you did and it was rare that the man ever actually slept.
As if to balance the difference in sleeping habits and physical needs, Chrollo had developed quite the kink for Somnophilia. So on the evenings where you dozed off early or spend an extended time sleeping, you fully anticipated him to help himself to your sleeping form. This is why you were not particularly surprised to wake face-down with your hips propped up and a distinctly familiar voice moaning.
A loud moan from you let him know you woke up, feeling an intense pulse of pleasure from being caught. Though you were quite alright with his somnophilic behavior, he still felt a certain thrill if you ever woke up while he was on top of you. The act of being caught doing perverse things with your sleeping body was just the thing his narcissism needed when it came to his perception of his hold over you.
Chrollo continued pounding into you frantically, feeling your walls tighten around him and coax him closer to his orgasm. Your moans were punctuated by each thrust, somewhat muffled as you gripped tightly to the bed beneath you. It didn't take long for the feeling to overtake you as you were practically thrown into your climax, feeling your walls trying to clamp down on his pounding cock. He was quick to follow and let out a groan of satisfaction, thrusting a few more times just to squeeze out every last bit of cum.
As the afterglow of your orgasm faded away, you felt Chrollo lay his body over yours and gently kiss your neck. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pressed as physically close to you as possible. You could feel the way your heart seemed frantic in comparison to his heartbeat which rolled in a steady rhythm in his chest.
"It seems you've caught me red-handed, Little Spider."
Chrollo could only chuckle as you failed to respond, still catching your breath and trying to adjust to being awake. No matter how many times he got to see you fall to pieces in his hands, he would always feel such a thrill just being with you. Years without significant amounts of emotion left him drowning in a cocktail of dopamine and serotonin that he was almost dangerously addicted to.
"It's not often I get caught, what ever should I do to convince you to keep this between us, hm?"
"How about another round?"
"Darling, I thought you'd never ask."
~~~~~~~~
"I'm here to make a deal with the leader of the Phantom Troupe, not some dumb slut."
The words echoed in your mind as the arrogant man sneered at you, clearly having a rather negative opinion of you and your presence. Though his words shouldn't have bothered you, they actually managed to sting more than a little bit.
There was a long moment of silence as you turned away, not wanting to look at the man who so gleefully insulted you. Naturally, the Spiders- that had been rather bored and relaxed when the man approached- were all furiously glaring at the man now. The Spiders cared about you just as they cared about Chrollo and the man insulting you easily set them all off.
"There are two leaders of the Phantom Troupe. Myself and Little Spider. What deal do you think you could make with us when you so blatantly disrespect one of the leaders of the Troupe?"
The man seemed confused before he glanced at you again, the weight of his folly suddenly smacking him in the face as he realized what he just did. He seemed to now take note of the many eyes glaring at him venomously despite how slight the offense may have seemed at first glance. The only thing that could save him was your forgiveness, and with how you refused to look at him, he was unlikely to recieve such a blessing.
"Wait, but I- hey!"
He struggled against the crusting grip of both Machi and Feitan as they forced him into a kneeling position, his arms twisted and being slowly crushed. Despite his clear discomfort and upset tone, you still refused to look at him or at any of the Troupe. Chrollo took this as a sign that you would not forgive the transgression and acted accordingly.
All the man could do was let out a choked sound as his arms were suddenly removed, a ballpoint pen sticking out of his forehead. He collapsed forward into the dirt floor and silence once again returned to the Troupe. You refused to look back before Chrollo wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
"Are you okay, Little Spider?"
"I guess."
"Don't worry about what that fool said, you are much more than that to me. And if anyone else tries to insult you, I'll kill them."
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valentine-writes · 8 months
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hii!! i was wondering if you could write headcanons for like the main four spider-kids (miles, gwen, pavitr and hobie) with a reader who like smacks people when they laugh really hard? preferably w/ a reader thats a spider-person but its up to you! :3
aggressive affection!
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「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, dude used once in a gender neutral way, mentions of bruising and minor injuries (but nothing crazy), spider-person reader, reader forgetting that being a spider-person makes them stronger,,, um. (°ー°〃) oops!!! 」
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「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」
↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, miles morales, and pavitr prabhakar
author's note: YES I CAN YES I CAN!! this prompt iz so funny AUWWUDH I HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE!!! つ﹏⊂ also super excited 2 get to write more of them becuz AWUDGWAAHWGHWAGUAGH I LOVE THESE CHARACTERZ SMM,,, also excuse me if there's more repetition or typos than usual,,, im eepy ( つ᷄ ‸・ )
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GWEN STACY headcanons
▸ the first one to fall victim to your little habit. she doesn't mind in the slightest, mainly because she's generally pretty welcome to friendly touches- even if it is slightly more aggressive than she had expected. frankly, you could've literally bitten her and she probably would've reacted the same.
she's a little awkward about it at first, pausing mid laughter as you deliver playful hits to her shoulder and bicep. she playfully shoves you away at first, like, "haha– what– what are you doing–" but quickly warms up to it
▸ here's the thing though. she 100% will do it back. if you're both joking around and losing it over something, you end up hitting each other through laughter. and it'll INTENSIFY. at some points, everyone's wondering if you two are actually beefing or not ur not. itz the way u show affection 2 one another,,, in the strangest manner
when you're assigned on missions with her, you usually end up chatting– and then you find something hilarious to giggle abt and everything goes off the rails
y'all will return to HQ bruised asf like "nah man the anomaly didn't even touch us."
jessica and miguel DEF pick up the fact y'all goof off and beat each other up before even locating the anomaly HWJEJNDNE
unfortunately– gwen is slowly paired less with you on missions becuz of this. they can't have you distracting one another a girl can never have fun fr </3
nothing that some good behaviour can't fix! just try not to give each other a complete smackdown while on duty and you'll be paired together again in no time! hopefully...
▸ both you and gwen forget that being spider-people involves super strength. and though you're both used to taking a blow or two, it stands plain and obvious that the two of you can get carried away. gwen especially. she's just a little rough sometimes– not like she means to be.
sometimes, the dull ache from the bruises she left leave you wondering if you're both a little too funny for your own good. at least she makes sure to take care of it and hold back,, when she can.
when it's your turn to get carried away, she sees your eyes widen as you splutter a million apologies to her. but every time you deliver one hit too hard, she insists it never hurts much as you think.
"dude, it's okay. you can chill out." gwen reassures. "besides, i'm built tougher than that."
she flashes a grin at you, and it's almost convincing. like she didn't even feel a thing. you know better though– gwen definitely has days where she's more sore than she'd like to be because of you. not like she'd ever admit. she likes the random play fights between the two of you.
though, you will admit that the amount of trips to the infirmary in search of ice packs is getting just the teeniest bit absurd. people are starting to ask questions at HQ-- which is fine. the frozen bag of peas gwen offers to you for your injuries works just as good as any ice pack ...it's been sitting in the bottom of her freezer for God Knows How Long but you don't need to know that
HOBIE BROWN headcanons:
▸ you see how this guy interacts with people???
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hobie's used to friendly touches, and initiates physical contact without overthinking it. that little shoulder shake he does w/ miles makes me smile everytime i heart hobie. ALSO AAUWHEHWH LEBRON AND DWAYNE'S HANDSHAKE BEING HOBIE'S AND PAV'S?? I ADORE.
you really think something as little as a few friendly punches and hits bothers hobie "forehead-kissing-the-homies-goodnight" brown??? /lh + /hj but man platonic physical affection hobie. like. hear me on this one.
▸ he's 100% cool with it– actually initiated it before you did. nothing crazy, a light smack on your back or arm as he laughed with
eventually, while joking around with you, realized you had the same habit
you end up hitting each other quite a bit– but he's not as accidentally aggressive as gwen is. laughing with hobie won't get you hospitalized, he's cognizant enough with his strength to know how much to hold back.
▸ then again, there are times where you get carried away. hobie's quick to shake it off, not feeling the effect of the hit until later– if you notice and apologize, he'll just shake his head and shrug
"nah, nah– it's fine." he insists, chuckling a bit as he rubs the spot where you smacked him. "there's been worse."
and yes, objectively, you know that's true– but you both fight villains in your everyday life. of course there's going to be worse than just a hit too hard. he won't accept an ice pack– but will joke that you could just kiss it better instead
that earns a groan from you, smacking him again in the arm for good measure as he snickers
MILES MORALES headcanons:
▸ doesn't hate it!! not against it!!! find it surprising at first. he didn't expect a playful punch to his arm in response to his little joke, but watching as you giggled uncontrollably, hitting him lightly– he decided that he didn't mind too much
he knows you don't mean any harm, so it's cool with him! he's rolling with the punches literally every time you two are losing it
▸ if you land a smack on him that ends up being a little too hard, he'll definitely try to play it off awkwardly, rubbing it and nervously laughing when you ask if he's okay
"oh sh–" you promptly stop, your smile fading as concern floods your face. he winced slightly at your last hit and it was much to obvious to ignore. "you good, miles? i am so sorry–"
"me? yeah, yeah– it's cool!" he replies dismissively, giving you the lightest punch back. miles laughs nervously at your completely unconvinced expression.
"bro. cmon. be real."
"that? hah– nahh. barely felt it." spoilers!!! he felt it
you keep it in mind to dial it back a bit when with miles, because he barely hits back and hates admitting when it actually hurts.
you'll get an occasional "ow–" with a little chuckle, but he refuses to acknowledge that you might be a bit too rough. he jus doesn't wanna hurt feelings man :(
you're his friend who gets a little too carried away sometimes– and that's fine!!! besides, he can't let gwen and hobie have all the fun.
"you holding back on me?" he asks you, noticing your hits have gotten weaker.
"what's it to you?"
"i can handle it. 's fine!! really!" miles says. there's a beat of silence as you stare at him incredulously.
"and you didn't bruise last time?." you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"yeah."
"...say swear."
miles raises his hands, sighing. "ok, look–" HE WANTZ 2 ROUGHHOUSE W/ HIS FRIEND TOO OK (*ノε`*) besides. u and gwen and hobie seem to have so much fun w/ it,,
▸ because of his stubbornness, you oblige, pulling your punches just a little less when having a little laughing fit with him.
as a result, miles develops a habit deflecting your hits while absolutely losing it. gently shoving your hands away as you smack him, both of you doubling over laughter
miles will say sumn he knows you'll find a lil too funny and just,,, *cue continuous hitting and blocking as he predicts literally Every Movement you make* he's literally learned to parry becuz of u HAJWBDKDNEN
PAVITR PRABHAKAR headcanons:
▸ the type to pretend to beat up his friends while making punching noises when he's bored
he's just lightly tapping u with his knuckles going "pow– pow pow– bam–" under his breath HANWJENDN IM SORRY I FIND THIS FUNNY. i also. do this. (。・・。).
and ur like "...uh. ok."
he's def not opposed to it!! when he has the energy, he's all for it!!! pavitr's playfully hitting, shoving you away, gasping for air as the two of you giggle over something that's only really funny to the two of you.
he's pretty energetic most of the time, and it manifests as you "brawl" with each other as you laugh over some stupid joke.
▸ when you hit him a little too hard, most of the time, he doesn't even notice until the aftermath manifests as a bruise or two on his arms– but even then he doesn't care.
however,,, there are occasions where he initiates it, laughing and smacking you– and when you're laughing with him, raising your hand to hit back, he'll gasp dramatically, recoil instantly and get all dramatic about it i'm projecting all the things i do onto pav i bet u cant tell /sarc
pav the minute you decide to try and get him back– bar for bar, word for word:
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he's just a little guy,, a little guyy,,, nooo,,, itz also his birthday,, he's a little birthday boy– HWJWBDN SORRY THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS
this is a bit that he drags on FOREVERRR like itz the funniest thing in the world
▸ ALL of his hits are a little too hard. he does the fake beat up thing a lot but when you two are roughhousing, you're the one reminding him to chill out through stifled laughs
he'll immediately soften the blows quickly at your request, knowing it's probably best for you to remain as uninjured as possible when not doing mission. can't have your shit rocked before you even face a villain!!! his hits end up somewhere between hobie's and gwen's– an almost perfect middle (*´꒳`*)
almost.
occasionally, he'll literally just... take the hits. not like miles where he's deflecting. he's jus standing there laughing while you smack him. which is a concerning sight for anyone who isn't used to your antics!!!
this happened in hq once and peter b, who happened to be walking by, lowkey thought you were straight up attacking pav
upon hearing the two of you giggling though, he figured that he wasn't witnessing an act of violence and didn't have to step in
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mintkookiess · 10 months
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It's you?!
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A/N: Craving more 42!Miles screen time. Better yet, I want him to have an entire goddamn film.
Another post from the private vault! hope y'all like this one as much as I did! (。・・。)
Love,
Mint
Summary: 42!Miles and his weird ass obsession on finding out Spiderwoman!reader's real identity (and vice versa, but less obsessive LMAO she just curious)
Tags: 42!Miles x Spiderwoman!reader, some cussing, choking (not that kind) enemies -> friends
Word count: 2.3k
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The Prowler had a sick grin behind his mask as he stared at the woman standing a few feet away from him. It was almost laughable to him how she could stand for all the heroic shit, even her suit looked downright ridiculous. “You’re a brave one to try to stop me, I’ll give you that.” He laughed with his voice slightly distorted from the voice changer. “But I hate to break it to you ma, I’m going to remind you where you belong, to make you remember your fucking place.”
Though deep down he knew that he always looked forward to their fights and banters. Sure, he’s handled a bunch of big enemies and may have been beaten to a pulp once or twice, but nothing makes him feel more alive than fighting the one and only Spiderwoman. Little does he know that he’s slowly garnering some sort of obsession over finding out who she was. 
He was itching to know what kind of person this woman was who had the actual capabilities of making him excited and thrilled over fighting, something he grew to hate. 
"Yeah, I will. Since my place will always be above you." Y/n replied coolly behind her mask. As Spiderwoman, she is obligated to eradicate all evils in Brooklyn, but this Prowler dude always made it interesting for her. And today was just like their usual encounters. 
Sometimes, she admits that she wants to know who he was beneath all that tacky suit. Like why does he look like fucking Dracula? 
I hate that fucking mask. Miles thought as he scowls down at the hero. All he wanted was to rip the mask off of her head and finally see her face. He couldn't exactly understand his undying obsession with finding out. Like, why her of all heroes?
He growled in frustration with himself, clawed out his hand, and lunged at Y/n, ready to rip her apart. In response to this however, Y/n was quick enough to instantly shoot a web by a nearby building on their right, flinging herself towards it to dodge him. "Is that the best you got pretty boy?" She called out. 
"Pretty boy?" Miles raised an eyebrow behind his mask. He snarled, jumping off the ground to thrust towards her once more, this time using full force to try to pin her against the wall. He does this successfully, picking Y/n up by her throat. "Who are you?" Miles hissed, his claws retracting before digging his metal-covered fingers into her neck more. "Tell me, damn it."
Y/n kept her body calm and tried to maintain proper breathing despite being choked by him. "Spiderwoman, who else would I be?" She choked, her mind trying to find the best way possible to escape from his deadly grasp. 
"That's not what I meant," Miles glared, squeezing even tighter than before. His golden brown eyes slowly became wild in anger, almost as if something's taken over him. 
"Answer me properly, pretty girl," He seethed, his mask glitching slightly. Though he called her "pretty girl", he did so in such a mocking tone.
Miles dropped her to the ground but doesn't waste a second before pinning her against the wall with his arm over her head. With his height, he just easily towers over her.
The sight egged him on, the feeling of having Spider-Woman beneath him like this was exhilarating. 
"Who. Are. You."
"Someone who's... about to kick your goddamn ass." She murmured before her leg flew up to his arm, and with every force she could muster she kicked it down, making him lose balance. 
She shoots another web to the building on the opposite side, keeping a fair distance from the Prowler. "Why do you want to know me so badly?" She called out to him. 
"Because I want to know my enemy,” Miles yelled back, letting out a low growl as he rose to his feet and sped across to her once more. He lands back close to her, glaring at her with a slightly amused look. It's just a game to him after all. A game of cat and mouse and he was definitely not the mouse. 
"I'll stop at nothing until I found out who you are," He gritted through his teeth. "You won't get away that easily ma." 
Y/n only snorted at his words. "Oh yeah? I think I do a pretty great job at doing that pretty boy." She smirked behind her mask before instantly swinging away, leaving him.
But of course, Miles wasn't backing down, quickly chasing after her. "Who the fuck are you?!" He yelled loudly, but she doesn't answer. They both played chase across multiple buildings. Miles was determined not to lose her this time though, picking up his speed until he was practically at the same speed as her. 
This must be his new world record, Uncle Aaron would be damn proud. 
"I won't stop chasing you until I know." Y/n rolled her eyes at how persistent he was being. Miles wants to know who this hero was, and why she drove him insane with obsession, or how she got him looking forward to fighting her. 
"Well for starters, why the hell are you so obsessed with me? Honestly, don't you have better things to do?!" She called out as she continuously swung between buildings by her webs. Least to say though, Y/n was impressed that the Prowler could catch up at all. But then again, when has he ever failed to impress her?
"It's not an obsession," Miles denied, following close behind her. Even Y/n knew that wasn't the truth.
Miles is a villain. He kills. He maims. He hurts whomever he wants. But with her? Something just felt different. She's special, nothing like the rest of them. She has something he can't quite explain. Some sort of magnet that keeps him wanting to see her often? To fight her more than he does with the usual people he dealt with?
"Why do you keep running away ma?" He asked nonchalantly, but Miles knew he was just trying to keep her under his grasp for a bit longer. "You can fight. Why run?"
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Then let's fight pretty boy." She swung back around towards him, landing her foot on his torso, kicking him hard across the concrete before landing flawlessly on the ground. 
Miles grunts loudly and stumbles back, hitting a beaten-up car behind him. He looks up at her, glaring. "That's more like it ma," He leered, the sun creating shadows on his face, making him look even more intimidating.
He grunted as he stood up, getting close to her once again until he was merely inches away from her face. "You must tell me. You can't keep it from me." Miles grunted. His eyes were wild and insane as if he's lost control of... whatever he was feeling towards this Spiderwoman. 
"If I told you who I was, that defeats the entire anonymous persona thing I've got going." Y/n chuckled, placing a hand on her hip. Though she admits, she was also quite eager to know who Prowler was. Oh hell no, just curious.
"Tell me already!" Miles almost yelled, balling his hands into fists. He's getting angrier by the minute. At who exactly? He wasn't sure. Maybe he was mad at her because she was being stubborn, or mad at his behavior and the way he was acting right now.
But Miles doesn't care. He only cares about the fact that he's not getting the information he wants. 
He just wants to know who she was so badly so he could finally get over this achingly overwhelming curiosity.
"Tell me," Miles glowered once more, his voice dark and raspy. "I won't ask again." 
"You're asking me to tell my arch nemesis who I am behind this mask. You do realize how insane you sound right?" Y/n snickered. But suddenly, she was stricken with an idea. She quickly looked around, making sure no one was around them in the abandoned part of Brooklyn.
For once, she wanted to indulge in her curiosities as Spiderwoman. She grinned at him, even though he couldn't see it. "If you show me who you are, I'll show you who I am. Seems only fair right?"
"Fine," Miles grunted, uncurling his fists. He was a bit surprised at how easy it was for him to agree, despite knowing full well he shouldn't show who he was much less to the person who's been hunting him down for months.
"Show me first. Then I'll let you know who I am." His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he meets her stare. "After all, it is only fair ma."
Y/n laughed, nodding in agreement. "Fine, if we're playing fair, then we should just do it together at the same time." 
Prowler let out a harsh breath and nodded. 
"On the count of three,” Y/n said, her finger gripping the edge of her mask. 
"1..."
"2..."
"3...!"
As Y/n pulled out her mask, the Prowler does the same, his Prowler mask moving back to reveal himself as Miles Morales. 
Y/n's hair fell down, her e/c eyes striking with excitement as she stared back into his. Her lips instantly curved into a smile as she sees an all-too-familiar face before her. "You're that student from school!" 
Miles blinked. "What—" He stopped himself mid-sentence as it finally hits him. It's her. It's always been her. 
His eyes flash with shock, pupils widening to the point where his eyes almost appeared black. The woman that he's been obsessing over, was Y/n. Y/n L/n.
Miles would see her often in class and everywhere else on campus. He has never spoken a word to her, but she slightly grabbed his attention because she was the complete opposite of him. That and because she was obnoxiously loud.
He simply knew her as that friendly, too-nice, pure girl. Definitely did not assume that she'd be Spider-Woman.
"You're that quiet dude from physics and math class!" Y/n gushed even further. "I wasn't expecting it to be you but, that makes so much sense with your mysterious aura and vibe, holy shit."
Y/n was internally screaming inside because she did notice Miles Morales from her school. She thought he was crazy attractive with the stoic and cold demeanor he had going on, especially those goddamn braids of his.
And now here she was, finding out that he was in fact, the Prowler whom she's been fighting for months on end. 
"Y/n..." Miles breathed out. As he processed the woman before him, he started to think about how she was beautiful, far more than he could've ever imagined. He barely looks at her at school, but now he's finally got a good look.
Her smile sent unexpected fluttering to his heart and it was difficult for him to look away. He had to snap himself out of it. Y/n isn't just Y/n. She's Spider-Woman. Who knows of his identity.
Miles licked his lips forgetting all of that in a second. His eyes were still wild but now supported by a little glint. A spark perhaps. Somehow, seeing Y/n and realizing she's Spider-Woman made him feel weird. Good weird. But weird. 
"Well, what do you think? Overwhelmed? Underwhelmed? Rate the experience from 1 to 10, be honest." Y/n smirked, her eyebrows raised and arms crossed over her Spider-Woman suit. 
"You fucking weirdo,” Miles smirked. 
"Would you look at that, the infamous Miles Morales actually knows how to smile,” Y/n replied, clearly amused. 
She was definitely not screaming inside. 
"What can I say ma?" He replied with a smirk, "You bring out the best in me." He found himself teasing her. How interesting.
Y/n playfully rolled her eyes at him. "Ha ha, I wasn't expecting the Prowler to be this cheesy either." 
"I wasn't expecting Spider-Woman to be this beautiful either, so I guess we're both in quite a predicament,” Miles said with a slightly flirty tone. The situation was becoming less tense and more playful between them. 
It was as if Miles had become a different person, being less like the ruthless villain Prowler, and more like himself as Miles Morales. It's a refreshing feeling to him.
"Well thank you, does that mean you've always noticed me from school?" Y/n smiled, placing her hands on her back, and swayed side to side like a child.  
"I noticed you alright.” He chuckled. Miles was still in disbelief with himself since he never showed such emotion to anyone. Ever. But here he was laying himself out to this girl who he barely even knows.
"I thought about talking to you. Usually to tell you to shut up cause you're always so damn loud." He told her. "But then I got too much shit on my mind. You know what it's like as the Prowler."
Y/n simply nodded, "That's fair. I myself am pretty busy cause well... I am Spiderwoman, constantly thinking of how to save the city." She winked. 
"You're busy as Spider-Woman," Miles repeated. "And I'm busy as the Prowler." He grinned at her. "We have that in common, don't we?"
"Except for the fact that we are destined to be enemies." Y/n grinned, shaking her head in disbelief. "But you know, maybe we can be friends."
Her? Being friends with him? What is she even saying... as if he'd actually agree—
Miles cocked an eyebrow. "Friends huh? Maybe we should try it sometime." He grinned, but he stopped himself, almost as if what he said wasn't meant to be said at all. He cleared his throat, "Well, we aren't enemies right now, are we?"
Y/n contemplated for a while, "Hmm... Maybe enemies as Spider-Woman and the Prowler, but we can be friends as Y/n and Miles." She winked, holding out her hand for him to shake. 
Without a second thought, Miles grabbed her hand and shook it firmly. "Deal." He replied with a smirk. "Friends." And he's serious about it too. All they both thought of at the moment was,
Damn, this is going to be one interesting pair.
Fin.
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More of my Miles content here babes!
(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)
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ghostflowerhotpotch · 10 months
Text
Headcanon: Just because they are dating it doesn't mean they are less awkward
I was answering a comment I got, when I started thinking about what would happen if Miles and Gwen started dating?
My first thought: "Oh the adaptation period is going to be fun."
Both in fiction and in real life, you can have a period of time when friends who had been crushing for too long may be trying to not come too strong to the other person in case their new partner hasn't fallen as deeply in love as themselves.
Do I think this would happen with Miles and Gwen? Oh for sure.
Gwen in general tries to hide her emotions and while I think being with Miles will loosen her up a bit, I think she may get shy about how much she likes him (specially considering some things she did while crushing.) Miles I think would do so as well, since it has been his normal to try to tone down his crush, and seeing how "collected" Gwen can be, would try to act "cool."
All of this rambling is now for a list of headcanons of the stupid things they did because of this and that they try to hide from each other before they realize how silly they are.
Let's go!
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They both do a victory lap, or the spidey equivalent, swinging across their respective New York after Miles asked Gwen out.
Miles is the loudest, swinging across the streets while screaming in excitement a few times, including one time when he screams "SHE LIKES MEEEEEE."
This ends up with a bunch of people online not only reposting clips of the video where he screams that, but people speculating who could be the mystery girl who seems to like him. Miles panics thinking Gwen may think he is cheating on her and Ganke needs to be there to calm him down and devise a plan to get gossip people into something else.
Gwen isn't much better, she doesn't really scream anything, however she ends up doing a bunch of daredevil tricks and jumps because her excitement manifests in see-how-many-gymnastics-record-I-can-break.
She ends up scaring the living shit out of her dad, who was trying to react very normally when a coworker show him a clip of just a part of it (she literally did this by a good part of the city, so there are different videos.) The gymnastic Olympic team of the United States is once again trying to recruit Spider-Woman. There are now people making recompilations of videos to see if there is a way to catch the whole thing, and some people had noticed that in some clips it almost looks like she is squealing.
Gwen recruited Peni's help to take down the most incriminating videos, mostly because it was impossible to take all of them down. She also begged Peni to have a way for her dad to not find some videos on his phone. I imagine her dad may be a bit protective of her and while Gwen told him she is dating Miles, she doesn't want her dad to realize how madly she is in love with him.
(He knows, he remembers the Polaroid.)
Because of this, the first few days together they try end up planning dates in other universes, because both of them are waiting for those videos to not be trending. Gwen ends up dancing with Miles in Hobie's universe, while Miles shows Gwen a crazy arcade in Margo's universe.
Miles is ALWAYS smiling, depending on how much he has been in his mind he may look more lovesick or casual. Everyone has been teasing him, Ganke, his parents and Peter B the most.
I already headcanon that Gwen is actually a cuddle bug, she just has trouble leaning into others because of her vulnerability issues. So Gwen is constantly trying to measure how much she tries to hug him, to not look too eager to take his hand or lean on his shoulder. Is a tougher battle than she ever wants to admit.
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Miles ends up drawing Gwen even more often, especially since he has pictures of her and stuff; so before he knows it, he ends up with this beautiful mural of her. He isn't sure when to reveal it to her because he has added so many little detail and drawings he is afraid to come out as creepy.
Like many people, I headcanon Gwen has tried writing songs about Miles. Well the new relationship status made her finish one of those songs, which her bandmates liking, and Hobie also insisted she should play it next time in his universe.
"Next Time" ends up having the spideygang (Miles, Pavitr, Margo and Peni,) at the concert. Hobie remarks that the next song is written by his drummer, and it doesn't take long for Miles to be smiling once more like a lovesick puppy once the lyrics appear.
Gwen is a bit embarrassed, but he says he loved the song, and he would love to hear more if she ever does. He shares some of his art, and she is, of course, melting.
He doesn't take too long before showing Gwen the mural, and Gwen loves it. Is hidden below a bridge, in a place you can only see while being upside down; and she adores how Miles shown her drumming, her dance, he captures her from her eyes to the little tooth gap she has, and yet Gwen cannot stop being amazed at how despite showing all those things she considers flaws, she looks beautiful in all of them.
Miles shrugs saying "I just draw you like I see you."
And THEN, they become a couple of dorks in love who everyone else is getting kind of sick of how corny they are. But they are kind of stupid for each other and had been holding it for a while, so why not scream it from the rooftops?
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vonev · 9 months
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Hey there! Can you do a Miguel x spiderwoman reader where during a mission Miguel accidentally hurts you pretty badly while trying to get you out of the way of the anomaly, leaving you in a medically induced coma for a couple days while you heal? I wanna see an incredibly gentle, guilt-ridden Miggy visiting you when you wake up and treating you like you’re made of glass
Calling (just to save you, I'd give all of me)
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Miguel O'Hara x reader Oneshot
Words: 6.06k (yeah i know)
Warnings: Graphics depictions of Violence, Angst, Blood and Violence.
Summary:
A mission gone wrong, some crying, more suffering, rocky relationships (emphasis on the rocky part)
And after all of it, you prevailed. With him.
Tl;dr: Miguel is a crybaby
It was a normal Tuesday night at the headquarters. 11 pm to be exact.
God knows why you stayed as long as you did—having to juggle missions upon missions the entire week because Miguel decided to loosely throw them at you.
Capturing what seemed like an endless sea of anomalies.
“You’re our most capable.” He had said, not even facing you when he once again sent you off on another job to fend for yourself. 
Trying to ask to be replaced was met with a sounding “No.” from the big guy himself, so you stopped trying altogether.
Less questions, more work.
Even if the side of your ribs were bruised from the last encounter with a previous anomaly.
Whatever. Bringing your injury up would just have you end up being demeaned and insulted like a school kid who skipped last week’s homework. At least that was what you assumed.
You grew tired of it eventually, wanting to have more than 6 hours of sleep per day and being able to actually live your life—the birthday cake for a friend sat comfortably inside the fridge of your apartment lingers on your mind as you swung through the familiar sight of the city; another rendition of New York, another variant of an anomaly. 
That wasn’t to say you didn’t enjoy the thrill and adrenaline that came with the job—no, you loved it. No one ever told you how fun being a superhero can be (aside from the decades of trauma you had to go through) and being able to propel yourself into the air with webs as the people below you gawked at your presence. 
The New York breeze hit your figure like a welcomed embrace, the moon winked at you behind fading beds of clouds. You continue slingshotting yourself down the streets, deja-vu splashed in your face with how eerily similar the roads were to the ones back home; shaking your head, you let out a soft sigh and relish in the cold night’s wind. 
Today’s mission: an unknown entity that plagued Earth 1610, the only information you were given via a loosely thrown together email from Miguel was that the entity could possess powers greater than we all understood—but with a limited amount of time, you would (hopefully) capture it just in time before it discovered its full potential. 
You’d think with how smart the boss-man was, he wouldn’t send a sleep-deprived Spider into such missions with how severe things could turn if everything went wrong.
“I’ll send him an email to complain later, for sure.” You promised yourself; because you were supposed to do just that days ago when tasks started rolling in for you without breaks.
Solo-tasks, might you add.
A cherry on top of the already spoiled cake, salt on the wound, a slap to the face. You grunted, and an alarm sounding from nearby caught you by surprise amidst the (somewhat) quiet of the city. In the snap of a finger, you flung yourself in a different direction, changing the tides in the waves while the wind that hit your face came to a halt once you landed on a roof belonging to a rather tall building. 
The viewing angle from above gave you a clear look into what had transpired underneath.
You squint, arms folded neatly in between your thighs as you crouched over the ledge of the building; from what you could see, nothing was amiss—everything looked to be in place. Letting out an annoyed scoff, you were about to turn on your tail before the ear-piercing sound of glass shattering into pieces hit your eardrums. 
You immediately snapped around, and panic ensued when the people on the streets started screaming, running amok like wild animals scattering away into their safe spaces. You, on the other hand, now have to clean up the mess—you had no clue where this universe’s Spiderman was, nor did anyone brief you on it.
Nonetheless you approached the bust-up shop with a wavy heart, praying to something out there that there weren’t any critically injured persons. As you stalked near the front of the shop, you could hear loud banters inside; curious, you stare into the messy excuse for an interior: broken decors, smashed up shelvings, and items sprawled out across the floor inside.
You took the opportunity and shot yourself up to the ceiling, both your soles and fingertips clutching onto the surface, cautiously crawling further into the shop. 
“Please—” a voice yelled out, “Just let me steal your ATM machine!”
Your lips part, dumbfounded.
“No! Ey! Get away from—” You finally managed to grasp the scene that played out in front of you.
The store manager was running around with a bat in his hands, and the other person that seemed to be wearing a costume with black spots, a jean jacket slung over his shoulders and a rather cute bucket hat. To your surprise, the man evaded the attack when a black hole had been summoned under the manager’s feet, causing him to fall into the portal and out of another one…
…Right above you.
You yelped at the sudden contact on your back, the manager’s weight had you both falling face first into the shards-filled floor; his body cushioned by yours.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” 
The man behind you rolled off, allowing you to take a step and collect yourself as you slowly stood up. Debris started filling up your senses, and the pain from having been cut by thousands of glass shards made you wince in response. You pushed it all down, needing to finish the job as soon as possible so you could flee from more missions when you go back to the headquarters.
You even considered retiring from your spot in the team.
Speaking of spots…
You peered up, eyes catching onto the odd appearance of the man in front of you, who was still attempting to find a way to escape with the ATM. If you hadn’t been as irritated and grumpy as you were, you’d have found the situation hilarious.
“You gotta let that go, big man.” He whipped his head around, eyes darting around before locking in on you. “I’m sorry, I can’t—wait, you look different from my Spiderman.” His head tilted in confusion; you only rolled your eyes in retort, not wanting to drag your already long day out. Webs shot out of your wrists, launching them toward the direction of his foot.
Watching in disbelief as another hole appeared right where his foot would’ve been, the webs flinging into the black void and you felt the substance land on your back, knocking your balance forward.
“What the,” confused, you feel around for it, your fingers finding the source, tracing the substance behind you. “How did you fucking do that?” You glared him down, seeing his stature falter and hands thrown up into the air in defense. 
“Whoa whoa, language!” He wagged a finger at you, giving you his head shake of disapproval. 
“Shut up.”
“That’s just plain rude, young lady—hold on, you’re a lady right?” Your eye twitched in annoyance. 
“Has anyone ever said you’re way too chatty?” 
He was fidgeting with his hands, looking away and feeling nervous, unsure of how to respond to your jab. Before he could get another word out, the bottom of your feet connected with his chest, sending his body back against the wall with a loud ‘thud’ watching as he fell on his backside.
“Oof.”
 He let out a soft grunt, rubbing the sore spot on his butt; right before you did a chain-attack, he caught your foot with another one of his black holes, your foot now appearing on the other side of the store and out of sight.
“That wasn’t very nice. Listen, I just need some money, let me go and—” He threw the ATM onto a pile of cans and started rolling it out of your way, pushing the huge machine as fast as he could. Pulling back your foot in time, your calf connected with his face, making him trip over the cans comically with his arms flailing in the air.
You quickly reached down to fetch your trap to secure your win.
That would be too easy, though. 
Side-stepping a portal of void that almost ate you up, you winced at the pain that shot through your ribs due to your rapid movements. Biting through the pain, you maneuvered to where his body laid and tackled him to the ground once more when he tried to stand up; from then on, it was a cat fight. With you trying to get him detained and him attempting to pry you off of him.
Suddenly, another hole manifested beneath the two of you, watching in horror as you both fell through and landed harshly on top of the rooftop you originally occupied prior; the back of your head collided into the concrete ground; a poor excuse for a cushion.
It fucking hurt.
You were pretty sure you smelled blood.
He tried to get up, but you tumbled the two of you near the ledge of the building; in the midst of all the actions, he found dominance over you when he had your upper body hanging off the ledge with his grip on the collar of your suit. Blood thumped through your eardrums along with the loud horns of traffic, your heart racing in a million miles, if anyone looked up, they'd think you were insane for getting yourself in the situation. 
Maybe you are. 
Call for backup.
It would be so easy; the gizmo hugged your wrist, just one push of a button and someone will be here—
Too late, his grip on you wavered and you plummet into the air.
Fuck.
You quickly attempt to shoot more webs to find purchase on something, anything. 
But terror washed over you the second you realized you had conveniently run out of webbing fuel—being the dumbass you were, you had completely forgotten to get it refilled before the mission at the station back in headquarters.
Closing your eyes, you braced yourself for the impact; your body going limp to soften the blow.
You let out a loud yelp when something flew out of the air beside you and clashed against your body, but you don’t feel the shock at the contact—instead, the warmth of a large arm wrapped around your midsection and you feel the cold wind whiplash you.
Opening your eyes, you were (pleasantly) surprised to find that Miguel caught you just in-time, right before you could suffer any more blunt injuries. You almost cried at the sight of him, his name teased the tip of your tongue, wanting to wrap your arms around him for a hug; you pulled yourself back just in time before you could react on your impulse.
You were still mad at Miguel, you have to act like it.
Before you know it, he came to a halt around a corner into an alleyway and swung down to place you down gently on the ground, your feet now free from the feeling of being dangled in the air. His eyes flickered over your face, then down your body; his arm still pressed into your waist as he squeezed your flesh out of instinct. 
Bad move, the squeeze, no matter how gentle, pressed into your bruised rib. The pain sending a wave of shocks throughout your torso, you immediately pushed him away with a small hiss. You couldn’t see it, but hurt flashed through his eyes when you forced yourself out of his grip, his arm falling back to his side; unknowing of its purpose.
He wouldn’t willingly admit it, but the rare moments he would get to feel the heat of your body against him sent him to heaven: like that one time your shoulder pressed into his at the cafeteria, the times your naked fingers would brush over his skin, when your back used to press up on his during missions back in the days he went with you. Sinfully, he would recall that specific time your chest pushed into his torso during a stealth mission, the temptation to take you right there and then a devilish thought that circled his mind.
(Don’t ask what he had done in the shower after the mission debrief.)
That was part of the reason he had stopped frequenting jobs with you, even when you came into his office and invited him; you were met with rejections after rejections, soon enough, he noticed that you stopped trying—and the painful gnaw at his chest reminded him of your growing distant attitude with him, too. Miguel refused to let his personal life interfere with his business, and the last person he would want to hurt was you. 
Unknowingly, he had done exactly that whenever he would gradually push your presence away.
Having meals weren’t the same anymore, not when you stopped showing up to his office everyday with his favorite food like a routine, he’d eat less and less as the days passed by; without you there to continuously pester him, he found himself reverting back to his old habits—working after late hours, not sleeping enough, not eating enough, barely talking to anyone unless absolutely necessary. 
He had came to the realization that somehow, long ago, your presence had become such a grounding part of his life; the gentle yet persistent reminder that he deserved love and care too, to stop hogging all the responsibilities alone and share his burden with someone who he can trust, and it all manifested into you.
Miguel recognized he royally fucked up when you both barely see each other face-to-face anymore, you stopped showing up to debriefings, the only time he’d get to remotely speak to you was when he sent you off to missions.
He knew he was harsh, yes, but he fully believed in your capability to handle yourself—but while he was relentless, he still cared. 
Hence why he arrived and interjected your mission, wanting to extend a helping hand.
“Fuck—what are you doing here?!” You shouted over the loud traffic, emotions taking control of your mind, before Miguel could protest, screams broke out from beside you both. “Shit, let’s get this over with, big man.” 
You paused, momentarily forgotten that your webbings ran out of fuel and mentally slapped yourself in the face.
As if he read your mind, he fished out a tube from behind him and threw it your way. You caught it just in time and practically rushed to throw the lid off, tipping the mouth over to allow the liquid flow into the web gadget integrated into your suit. You threw a mumbled “thanks” his way and chucked the tube out of sight.
“Come on,” you nod toward the opening of the alleyway with an arm raised and pull yourself upward with your web. 
It was supposed to be an easy job: brawl with the anomaly, win the brawl, capture it.
But this one was starting to grate your nerves—and you were sure Miguel felt the same too, you could sense the rage radiating off of his huge stature like sirens; chasing down the guy who had re-introduced himself as the Spot when you caught up with him earlier, unintentionally finding himself falling in and out of accidental portals he materialized. 
“Stop running!” Yelling, you proceeded to jump into the portal he went through, he was always barely a hair away; yet as clumsy as he was, managed to get away every single time.  
“Stop chasing me!” Spot shouted back, tripping over the back of his foot and almost falling into one of the portals entirely. 
He managed to barely swerve out of the way when Miguel lunged at him from behind, his claws swooping in the air where Spot used to be. It became a constant back-and-forth; you would shoot yourself closer to him and Miguel would come from his back, essentially cornering him, then Spot would narrowly escape; rinse and repeat. Exhaustion crept up on you eventually, nagging the back of your mind as you tapped into your adrenaline to stay awake and alerted of your surroundings. 
Miguel noticed it, too, and he went even harder—the intensity of his ferocity grew when he realized he had to end things soon before someone gets injured; he prayed to God it wouldn’t be you. 
Somehow, more portals had opened up, and all you could do was avoid falling into them; the possibility of coming face first into the asphalt roads were too high for you to take the chance. Miguel almost got caught in one; hardly dodging a portal that conjured on the wall he stuck to. But unlike you, he was willing to test out his theory, reeling his body back to prepare launching himself into the portal. And he did just that—his reward? A high-five of his face with another set of walls. 
He grunted, out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted you latching onto Spot’s back; desperately trying to push him down onto a solid surface. You both spun into another portal and crashed on a different rooftop, Miguel rushed over with claws ravaging the innocent bricks he crawled on; when he went up, he saw the two of you gasping for air on the ground. 
You clutched the side of your rib, an indescribable amount of pain overtook your senses; you were pretty sure your ankle was broken when it was caught on a pole. Spot got up earlier than you, and was about to speed off before he felt a large hand tugging at the back of his shirt. 
It all happened so fast: reeling in a punch, the adrenaline pumping in Miguel’s veins, Spot’s utter shock at the face of Death himself, the supposed impact of the fist with the other’s face…
…Only for the force to be directed to you in the heat of the moment when a portal happened to manifest where Spot’s face would’ve been.
It was an accident, really, an unintentional line of actions from Spot— he was way too out of it when he figured he was about to go through his final moment; his portals shot out in panic, lucky for him, it was the reason he evaded Miguel’s death fist.
Unlucky for you, the other end of the portal had been right in front of you the whole time; yet in the midst of you processing your surroundings, you hadn’t realized quicker that your senses were screaming for you to dodge out of the way.
The conclusion? You, having just been punched in your guts, falling down a building amongst the New York you shouldn’t have stepped a foot in if you knew the outcome at all. The gust of wind pumped in your ears as you fell, and fell.
No worries—you’ve got your handy-dandy webs, right? 
Oh how you wished you hadn’t been wrong.
Miguel had snatched a random refill off of his own shelf when he was about to depart, not bothering to check for its content after his recent use; just shy of a quarter, barely enough to last an average Spider’s fill an hour of webbing. In his defense, he had been distraught when Lyla popped in earlier to warn him of your vitals: most specifically your injuries. He would’ve never sent you out in the first place if he knew you suffered from broken ribs.
But all you knew was that you somehow fucked yourself over.
Panic ensued.
And now, you suffered the consequences of his actions.
“Miguel!” A call for help; he was your last hope.
The fall wasn’t a particularly long one, and you normally would breeze through the impact and pain like a champ—except you have never fell from a building with ribs that squeezed your organs tight, ankle that would most likely not support your landing even if you tried, the adrenaline you lived off of now benched on the side leaving you stranded for some form of strength to pull yourself together in the span of a few seconds.
Your shoulder hit the ground first, then your head; the harsh impact created a string of reactions to your already abused body: pain shooting up your nerves, the corners of your eyes dimming despite the bright lights flashing around you.
Unbeknownst to the three of you, policemen started showing up once someone reported a supposed break-in at the shop you investigated; the sound of blaring sirens filled your eardrums like honey whilst the flashing of red and blue assaulted your blurry sight. 
Barely able to distinguish what was happening in front, you attempted to prop yourself up on your elbow; but the more you tried, the more lights started diminishing in your vision. Breathing has never felt so difficult, either.
Miguel was a step too late when he came to you; after having realized what had occurred, he dropped Spot in an instant like a hot potato, prioritizing saving you instead of proceeding with the mission’s objective. He was aware of the policemen being present at the scene when they started noticing your slumped body in the middle of the road, crowding together to watch as you struggled to lift yourself up—they all stood and observed, no one reached out to help, none.
He was by your side right away, his one hand supporting the weight of your head while the other clutching at the hem of your mask, lifting it over your eyes.
His hand felt…wet.
As if things couldn’t possibly get worse: he watched the stiff expression on your face contorted with pain, you seemed to have recognized him as you slowly reached a weak arm out to caress his face, your thumb gently glossing over his cheekbone, your touches light like feathers. His mask concealed the despair in his features, the hues of red and blues still shone on his back as everyone else stayed aside and spectated. 
Your hand soon dropped to your side, unmoving, your head now heavier than ever in his hand.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 
Miguel held your small, delicate hand into his, the tears teasing the corner of his eye as he watched your life slipped by those eyes of yours he’d grown to adore.
-
“You can’t live like this, Miguel.” 
Lyla crossed her arms over her chest, trailing Miguel’s tiny movements on the desk. His fingers delicately move across the keys on the keyboard, imputing password after password for locked files. 
“Seriously,” Lyla sighed, rubbing her temple. “You’re starting to worry me.” 
“Nothing to worry about, Lyla, get me the decoded files from yesterday.” Miguel ignored her pestering, choosing to focus on his work and his work only.
That was his routine for the past 5 days or so.
After the entire slip-up in Earth 1610, Miguel had been busting his ass to hunt down the anomaly for every hour he was awake; granted, he did take care of other responsibilities too—babysitting Mayday on Monday, depatching teams to bring back more anomalies, and visiting you every day. 
And also dealing with that kid he found out to be the Spider-man from Earth-1610.
He hadn’t missed a single day of visiting you, who still laid in the hospital bed at the infirmary he cleared out for you. 
Everyday. On the clock. 5 am when he woke up, when lunchtime struck, and in the late hours of night when he should be spending on getting enough rest.
Lyla had been there through it all, watching Miguel’s tormented back every single minute he was awake as he continuously starved himself off of the bare minimums. 
Food, water, sleep, you name it all. 
And as his assistant, his well-being was her number one priority—hence the constant pestering that would be swatted away, food that went cold despite Peter having brought them in hours ago upon Lyla’s request and his growing concern for his friend in the chair. Jess’s occasional visits to check up on Miguel, wondering if the day she stepped in would be the day she would see his lifeless body on the desk with how much neglect he reflected on himself. Even the new recruits dropped in to say hello, just to see that he was doing…okay in his book: which was not okay in everyone else’s.
Everyone was worried. 
About you, of course, and him too.
The situation had clearly taken a heavy toll on him.
But Lyla understood more than anyone else that it wasn’t because of his work, his dwelling traumatic past, or how he barely had any rest for the past 120 hours. 
No one else knew of his infatuation with you except for her—and that was only because she snooped through his things, finding the little knit-knacks he kept from all those times you came and dropped it off: the tiny Miguel plushie you made when you impulsively decided to take up knitting that one time, the shirt of yours you had forgotten to take back when you visited his office at late hours, soaked from the rain outside and sneezing everywhere. 
“Hey Mig—“ sneeze. “I came to see y—“ sneeze. “I—“ and you sneezed. 
“For the love of God,” Miguel turned around, seeing your soaked clothes that cling to your body, and having to turn away for just a tiny moment to compost himself when he caught sight of your curves. 
Groaning, he pulled out one of his drawers and shuffled through and fished out a new shirt—undoubtedly his with how large it was. 
His shirt was a sight on you, fitting perfectly yet still draping over your thighs just slightly when you went to get changed. 
The image of you that night burned into his head, forever engraved in his brain. 
Then there was the polaroid picture of the two of you when you had forced Miguel to “take a selfie with me!” when you picked up a weirdly shaped camera from a thrift store in your universe (something something you saying to be smart and conserve money). “It’s called InstaX, it—here, let me show you” and snapped a picture. 
In the picture, his expression was one of annoyance, and you were squeezed against his shoulder with a toothy grin on your face. 
Lyla saw how Miguel would come back with tiny frames that he thought would frame the film perfectly, but ultimately was defeated when he decided to just stick it in-between the pages of his files labeled: Classified.
She was the only one ever to know the content inside: mostly pictures of Gabriella’s (poor) baking, first day at school, when Gabriella won her first competitive soccer match; and then there was you.
She knew how important you were to him; yet to her complete and utter confusion, Miguel always kept to himself about his little (big) crush—even though she could clearly tell you were just as interested as he was, too. 
He was the densest man you had the pleasure of knowing. 
He never made a move; and now, he might never get another chance to.
Now you were reduced to a sitting duck, once a shell of what you were; your body laid in the bed he frequented more than his own, the lively demeanor that you carried with you before turned into a tune of stable heartbeats beeping from the machinery installed next to you: the only indicator you were still alive. 
Guilt was the only thing he knew for a while; when he’d step into the shower as the cold water bit the skin of his back, like he was willingly punishing himself for allowing that incident to happen. 
Everywhere he went, whatever he did, he was only reminded of your face.
“If only I had been there sooner.”  
He’d say to himself while he peered down at your figure, not there but, there. You were barely hanging, and part of him knew that it was your determination to fight through whatever battle was going on inside your head during the coma. 
“Por favor,” his hand held yours, careful to avoid the IV’s that pricked your skin, forehead sticky with sweat after having just come back from a specifically tough mission that day.
“Concédeme este deseo.” 
He would whisper sweet-nothings to you, praying to himself at night by your bedside that you’d wake up one of these days with that smile he yearned for. And for someone to finally share the extra empanadas he would always bring in, to hope that one day, you’d get to share this joy with him. 
The joy of eating together again.
So imagine his surprise when he walked into your room tonight, and found you sat up with the metal frame supporting your back. 
You were awake.
And most importantly, you were alive. 
He had never sprinted so fast in his life; the warm pack of empanadas he brought from the cafeteria drop to the floor, the gentle ‘thud’ catching your zoned out self by complete surprise, your face softened once your gaze landed on Miguel; who was frantically patting your face and checking your vitals to confirm that yes, you are here. 
Your hand reached up to palm his that lingered on your cheek, his eyes finally settled on you, slowly taking in the fact that you were now right there in front of him. 
“Miguel,” a small knowing smile tugged at your lips, your eyes the most gentle he’d ever seen. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”
He was still so afraid, so afraid that you would just slip by his fingers again; so he held onto you for dear life, fingers gripping your one cheek and hand with the others. 
“Estoy tan contenta de que estés aquí,” You whispered. 
A soft quiver of his lips; barely there—that was when the dam broke, and his tears started flowing down his sullen cheeks. 
You panicked, wondering if you had butchered your Spanish so bad you shamed him to tears.
“I’m…I’m sorry?” You tilt your head in confusion and worry. Miguel only shook his head, a small chuckle emitted from him; as if he knew what you had been thinking. 
“Don’t be sorry, silly.” He looked up at you with those earnest eyes of his; ones that melt your heart and warm your soul. You’d taken a liking to him early on; though you weren’t sure when it started, only where it started: during a mission, when the two of you grew physically close, so close.
His breaths fanning down your face, your breathing grew heavy with each and every second; that was when you knew you were in too deep. 
You would know it’d take heaven and hell to pull you apart from this man. 
There he kneeled, lips on the back of your hand as his thumb gently caressed your cheekbone, enjoying the way hues of red spread out on your cheeks. 
There was no way of escaping it now: the pent up tension of a confession teasing the air around you both, and soon, one of you was bound to crack.
“I have something to tell you—“
“I have something to say—“
Only that you both did it at once, together.
Miguel stared at you, lips slightly parted with the ghost of his words and eyes widened, then he cracked into a fit of roaring laughter—and you joined in.
Laughter filled what was once a room only occupied by the sound of your heartbeats on the machine, the two of you clutched each other’s hand, the high soon dying down to mere giggles; as if you two were high-school sweethearts with muffled chuckles thrown at each other in the back of the class. 
You two were in your own little world, a bubble that secured around your bodies, forever molding the shape of what once was and what will be. 
Wiping away the happy tear in your eye, you stared at Miguel’s devilishly handsome face, and the gorgeous smile you oh-so-rarely get the privilege of seeing. The muted rhythm of his chest rising and falling, in sync to yours, like two lovers on the dance floor—not even the sky could stop your love for each other. 
“I love you.” 
You blurted out; sure, you were 98% certain Miguel reciprocated your feelings, but that small node of anxiety still tugged at the back of your mind, terrified that you misunderstood his gestures all these times.
But wouldn’t the words he whispered to you during your sleep be all washed away if that was true? 
It was a risk, and you took it; it was now or never. 
“I—“ Miguel stammered, his heart screaming at him to just lean in and—
—kiss you.
His lips were nothing like you’d ever imagine; it was all the best parts multiplied by infinity: soft, full of all the love he had to give, and passionate. 
The kiss lasted for what felt like eternity—part of you wished it did, and you’d be content to die like this, your lips forever engraved on his. 
Miguel swore he heard the choir sung to him, albeit with crooked notes; but maybe because he did.
He slowly turned around, and you, who also does the same.
His colleagues had been quietly watching all this time from behind the doors: Peter with Mayday in tow as she cooed at the sight, Jess and that motherly smile of hers—Miles, Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr all stood with heads peeking through the gap of the doors. Even Lyla was there, although she simply floated over Peter's shoulder, joining in on the choir; their mouths agape with barely harmonized tunes of a holy song slipping out of their mouths. Amateur at best, unbearable at worst. 
Pavitr carried with the vocals, as always. 
They only stopped once they realized they had been caught; thinking that you two were in too deep to notice that there were more guests coming. 
“What…are you guys doing here?” Miguel asked, his tone more of a threat than a genuine question.
“We got some food—“ Peter perked up, but was instantly cut off by Hobie.
“‘o watch some sappy romance, ‘ey boss man?” Hobie high-fived Lyla's glitchy hologram, the latter wearing a smirk too wide for her face and nodding aggressively.
“Do the shoulder trick!” Miles yelled out; Gwen looked at him in horror then back to Miguel, this time, it was her who was shaking her head aggressively while crossing her arms into a giant X shape. 
Miguel snarled at Miles, not appreciating the cheesy suggestion of a pick-up line while everything went so well for him before they all busted in. 
“Remember to host a Sangeet bro! Oh Gayatri is super good at doing Henna—“  
“Hey I wanna be the flower girl!” Gwen piped up. 
“No, Miguel told me long ago Mayday would be—“
“She’s not even old enough, Peter, can she even throw a fistful of flowers?” Gwen crossed her arms in protest.
“I’ll have you know she’s an extremely capable baby, right, Mayday?” Peter looked down, only to see that Mayday had once again been chewing on his pink robe like always, blabbering with spit foaming at her mouth. 
“Oh Christ—“ Jess chuckled at the absurdity of the sight, a hand on her hip and the other tracing soothing circles on her belly; just as Miguel had been doing it with your hand the entire time.
Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated sigh knowing that the special moment between the two of you had been ruined by a bunch of nosy gremlins. 
Your hand went up to remove his hand from his face, and even with how (incredibly) noisy the room became with banters and bickering thrown around; it was all quiet with him, only the stable heartbeats of you both reached your ears.
For once, your life was complete.
Miguel glanced into your eyes, the adoration swarmed your orbs; behind them, he could see far into the future where you both exist, always beside each other like glue to a paper—with you on his hips and his on yours.
And at last, Miguel had found what he had been missing from his life. 
------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's note: Thank you so much for this suggestion Anon, it's my first one ever and I hope i did not disappoint u.u, I LOVED writing this and it got me tearing up reminiscing some fictional (sexy) mexican man. Hope u enjoyed!
ps: pls excuse the spanish i only have spanishdict as my holy grail (pls also DO correct me if needed!)
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melminli · 3 months
Text
Devil's Advocate
pairing: hazbin hotel x fem. reader
summery - after you died, you didn't really find it surprising to end up in hell. though, what you did find quite amusing was that your life down here sucked just a bit less than the one before.
word count: 2k
contains: cursing, strong language, sinner reader, violence, religious themes (obviously), sexual themes, demon horniness
part II
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"What a fucking nightmare." You muttered to yourself in annoyance as you got out of the car that had driven you up the hill. You slammed the door behind you and didn't bother to look back as the car drove away, your eyes glued to the huge hotel in front of you. You looked grimly at the building for a short while until you finally decided to walk to the door. "Someone's going to get fucked if he's not in this shitty hotel, I swear to God."
Your hand was about to knock on the door when, to your surprise, it was suddenly yanked open. You hadn't even had a chance to touch the wood with your knuckles. "A new guest! Hello! So nice to meet you. My name is Charlie!" Shouted an enthusiastic voice with stars in her eyes as she excitedly grabbed your hand and pulled you inside. She didn't even give you a chance to give her a reaction. "Vaggie! Look! Look, I told you I had a good feeling today! And that good feeling is actually here!"
Her girlfriend looked at your figure with puckered eyes. Vaggie looked at your most prominent features one by one. Cat-like, four eyes, and a fifties style...oh no. "Charlie? I think that - " she began, slightly worried, but didn't get to finish her sentence.
"I'm just here for a visit." You quickly announced before things could get any more difficult and saw the princess's happy mood drop at your words as she let go of your hand at the same time. "I apologize if I gave the wrong impression but you don't happen to have a pussy working around here?" You asked with interest, looking around the room as your eyes landed on a bar. Well, this couldn't have been made easier for you. Your eyes narrowed slightly as you only spotted a spider-like figure on one of the chairs.
"Well, only if ya talking about our good-looking Husky." He said with a big grin on his face and pointed behind him. You could then hear a deep voice swearing. Still, he didn't give himself away, and you sighed at his childish behavior as you stepped closer to the bar. "There's no reason for you to hide anymore. You've already been exposed." You said as you narrowed your eyes at the empty space until he finally appeared. "Fuck you, Angel..." he grunted out.
"Why don't ya do it for me ~ "
You all ignored his flirting. Charlie, out of her own curiosity, decided to move closer to the scene as well. After all, it could still be the case that you would eventually decide to give the hotel a shot. She didn't want to completely rule out this possibility, even if it was a small one. "Oh, so you're here to see Husker?" She asked you, finally seeing the resemblance between the two of you. Well, you both had a cat-like appearance, after all. "Oh! Are you two siblings?"
You laughed. "No. At this point, I'm even doubting whether I'm even friends with this fucker." You answered her when your mood turned sour and you hit the table angrily with both your fists. "Where the hell have you been! I've been looking all over the place to find your ass!" You yelled out, causing the others to flinch slightly at your tone.
"...look, it's a bit difficult to explain. I didn't think about telling you where I am because - " he tried to explain himself when you interrupted him.
You waved your right hand in the air, uninterested. "Yeah, I don't give a damn where you are. I'm not your mother." You said and then crossed your arms. "What I do care about is when your stupid little friend kills my employees to steal my fucking money." You said as your eyes darkened. "And you know how I feel about my money."
Oh, fuck me.
Before the conversation between you could continue, you were interrupted by another voice that wasn't afraid to intrude on the conversation. "Oh my, do we have a problem here?" He asked with a broad smile as he appeared out of nowhere.
Charlie looked at the scene a little nervously. Why am I starting to get a bad feeling? She was briefly interrupted by her worries as Vaggie leaned closer to her so she could whisper something to her ear. "I couldn't tell you before, but that woman over there is the person who owns the banks in hell. Like, all of them. I only heard of her until now." She murmured to her. "As you can guess, she's somewhat of a big deal...they call her She-Devil."
Well, I suppose that's why. The Princess of Hell looked between your irritated figure and Alastor while sweating a little. Two powerful demons in one room couldn't be a good sign, not in this hotel. She tried to calm down and stay positive. Maybe nothing will happen? Maybe they will become friends.
You blinked a few times before looking up and down at the unknown figure to take in his appearance. Then you turned to Husker and pointed your thumb at the guy. "Who the hell is this smiley freak. Do you know him?" You asked, annoyed, and even though you lowered your volume a little, everyone in the room could still hear you clearly enough. Well, it wasn't like you were trying to be subtle or anything, you didn't really care if they heard. "Hey Knuckles, is that your hair or your ears? I can't quite make it out." You laughed as your tail swung comfortably behind you.
Oh no. Everyone in the room looked a little worried at your figure, not really daring to say a word, let alone laugh along.
Alastor's smile looked a little strained as he turned his head robotically to the side. "Allow me to introduce myself. The name is Alastor. Pleasure to meet you, sweetheart. Quite the pleasure." He said, holding his hand out in front of him, and you shook it without a care in the world. Now that you had heard his name, it sounded familiar. "Alastor...aren't you that Radio Devil?"
His eye twitched slightly. "Radio Demon, to be exact."
Oh.
A slight smile graced your face. "Didn't know you were back in town. Does that mean you're coming back to the radio business? 'Cause I hate that podcast of the 2D face and could use some good entertainment." You asked him and saw Husker give you an annoyed look. He's trying to tell me something, but what is it...
You thought for a few seconds and looked back at Alastor until you finally realized it. You looked back and forth between the two of them, and Husker raised an eyebrow at you as if to say, you finally got it?
Oh.That Alastor.
After your comment, the Radio Demon seemed to be in a better mood. "Oh, thank you, my dear. You got quite a good taste there, which is getting harder and harder to find these days." He replied with his familiar smile. "But to get back to your question, I guess I have to say...I'm not called the Radio Demon for nothing."
Of course not. "Good." You say and turn back to the bartender. "Now, where were we? Oh right, I was about to fuck you up." You announced and were about to climb over the bar to let your fists do the talking, only to be stopped by the many arms of the spider next to you. "Whoa, calm down Kitty Kat! As much as I'd love to see the pussy fight between ya two, why don't we hear the man out first, huh?"
You groaned. These people wouldn't let you do your job. "Because we're in hell? And nobody gives a shit?" You rub your forehead, exhausted. "But whatever, talk then."
Husker's head slowly looked up from behind the counter. "...remember how I said that Larry is a very good friend of mine who you can trust completely and that you can therefore give him a job in your company without worrying?" He said carefully before continuing. "Yeah, I lied about that. I lost to him in a game a long time ago, and I owed him a favor."
You looked around the room. "Did you hear that? Are you happy now? I just wanted to punch him in the face and call him stupid names to get it out of my system, but now I'm not only angry but also disappointed...he doesn't even bother to apologize." You said and sat down. You interrupted him before he could say a word. "Just make me a drink since it's the only thing you're good at."
This could have ended worse. Charlie took a step towards you so she could stand next to you. "Well, now that you're here, I can tell you about the concept of our hotel! I'm sure you won't want to leave once you've heard it." She announced cheerfully, unable to read the room at all. She was also just pretty desperate to get more people into this hotel and had a hard time dealing with the fact that the only one who she got in wanted to leave again.
Her girlfriend was about to tell her that maybe this was a bad time to bring it up, but surprisingly, you didn't mind talking about it. "Oh, you don't need to. I've already heard a few things." You began giving the girl hope as you didn't have that demeaning undertone that other people usually had. "You're planning to rehabilitate sinners here, no?"
"Yes! Do you want to give it a shot?"
You shook your head. "Not really." You replied, unknowingly shattering her dreams. Your hand reached for your drink as you turned to the spider next to you. "And the last time I checked, they don't let gay people in there, darling."
Angel Dust rolled his eyes. "Well, ain't that good fucking news. Does that mean I can stop being clean? 'Cause I don't wanna to stop sucking dick." He said and acted dramatically. Tears came up and were about to run down his cheeks when a single beam of light shone on him as he leaned on a chair with his chest. "Ya guys know I love sucking dick."
Panicked, Charlie waved her hands aggressively in the air. "No, of course not! There are gay people in heaven!" She shouted out until she realized she wasn't so sure about that. She needed to do more research on the rules up there. She turned to her girlfriend, looking to her for support. "Isn't that right, Vaggie? There are gay people in heaven?"
She assured everyone in the room. "Of course, there are gay people in heaven."
"Okay, good," Charlie pronounced as she let out a relieved breath with one hand on her chest. She then happily turned back to Angel Dust. "So, you can continue to stay clean then, Angel."
He had a bit of a disappointed look on his face while he sluggishly held his arm in the air to celebrate. "Yay, woo..."
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