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#spider man imagines
unluckiestmember · 10 months
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Could you write gwen stacy romantic headcannons with a fem reader?
Coming right up!
Gwen Stacy X Fem! Reader
Characters: Gwen Stacy/Spider-Gwen
Tags: Established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, physical touch, words of affirmation, anxiety, hurt/comfort, reassurance, slight ptsd and did I mention fluff?
Warning: None. SFW.
A/N: Okay, I'm only going to say this once. Heterosexual Gwen? Okay. Bisexual Gwen? Good. Lesbian Gwen? Amazing! Transexual Lesbian Gwen? Spectacular! Fight me in the comments-
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If you found yourself dating Gwen Stacy, you were a super lucky girl.
To break down her walls took a lot of skill and for your efforts, you were gifted with an amazing girlfriend.
A nice mixture of both flirtatious and romantic.
Gwen will say things that make you blush but also make your heart nearly flutter out of your chest.
She will dedicate songs to you at shows and point you out in the crowd.
She doesn’t go out of her way to show you off, but if her adrenaline is to the roof, expect this girl to tell everyone you’re hers.
But it’s not that big of a deal since you sometimes walk around in her sweaters.
You guys are so tight knitted that even an outsider looking in would know you guys are sweethearts.
Big sleepover gal and homebody.
She’d rather spend a night at her place or yours, watching crappy movies snuggled under a blanket together than have a night in the town.
Though she is definitely not against hanging out around the city with you.
When she’s not being affectionate with her words, she is with her actions.
She’s like a big cat, always rubbing her head on your shoulder and neck when you two are cuddling.
In public, her arm is around your shoulders if she’s not holding your hand.
If for some reason you guys can’t show PDA, Gwen will sneakily go out of her way to rub her thumb gently against the back of your hand.
A great person to soothe anxiety and stress.
If she finds you having a panic attack or an anxiety attack, she is so quick to comfort you.
She dares someone to bully you. Just try it.
Because she loves you so much, she tries to keep you out of her line of work.
Her fear of another Lizard situation makes her keep you at arms length as Spider-Gwen.
But if you can convince her a lot, then if you’re lucky enough she will let you into that part of her life more often.
Gwen was emotionally closed off when you met her, but ever since you two got together, she’s been brighter. She’s been happier.
She’s glad to have you in her life and couldn’t be luckier having you as her girlfriend.
Spider-Verse Requests are open!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
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californ1asnow · 10 months
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How You Get the Girl
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Tasm! Peter Parker x Reader
Also posted on my ao3
"Tell her you must of lost your mind when you left her all alone and never told her why that's how you lost the girl"
The first time you met Peter Parker, you swore him off because you knew he'd be trouble.
It was the summer before your first year of college. You worked hard every day to save enough money to get through school. You promised yourself there would be no distractions this summer, just work. You didn't need to be distracted by other things before college started.
But that was before this tall, doe-eyed boy just happened to find his way to your place of work. His eyes glimmered full of mischief the moment his gaze met yours. Your promise of no distractions went out the window from that point on.
When he first approached you, he had tried (and failed) to get your number. He pleaded silently, with that kicked puppy look on his face after your rejection. You almost broke down in that moment, but you were holding on by a thread to the vow you made. So, the boy left with a crestfallen sigh, and you let your shoulders drop, relieved.
That was until a week later. He showed up with a bouquet of sad-looking flowers. He had promised you that they would have looked nicer when he bought them, but they had been crushed in his backpack on the way over. You stared at the pitiful flowers, and Peter held his breath, waiting to see how'd you react. The inside of your cheek stung as you bit down on it. Trying to keep your composer, you scribbled down a few words on an extra sheet of paper. You quickly handed it to him, and he let out a breathy laugh as he read it. The sound was enough to make your heart flutter in your chest.
Before he could cause any more trouble, you quickly shooed him away. With the same crumpled flowers and the paper, you hastily handed him, he left the shop. He had a piece of paper with your number on it, and a few sentences scrawled in hurried writing about how he had to work on his flower transporting abilities. So that maybe the next time you saw him, you would actually agree to go out with him.
Months had passed since that day. Slowly but surely, you began to ask for fewer hours at work. Which meant you had more free time. Aka, more time to spend with Peter.
That damn Peter Parker, with his fluffy hair and stupidly cute, crooked smile, it was all too much. Too often for your liking, thoughts of him invaded your mind.
You had been practically spending every minute of your free time with him. Whether it was late night movies or early morning coffee, it was all coupled with the boy who could make your heart race just by looking at him.
So, you took him in without question when he showed up at your apartment one night, battered and bruised.
Your hands, even if they were a little shaky, worked diligently to clean up his wounds. You had never seen him like this before, although you had noticed Peter showing up with a split lip or an old bruise from time to time.
As you held his face in your palms, a million questions raced through your mind, words on the tip of your tongue. You saw the silent pleading in his eyes, begging you not to ask the questions, so your lips remained sealed. The words died in the back of your throat. You ran your thumb gently over the bloody edge of his lip. His calloused fingers cupped your wrist, stopping your actions in their tracks.
He leaned in close, his forehead pressed against yours. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. Your eyelids fluttered shut. You drew in a breath, preparing yourself for his lips to meet yours.
But it never came.
Instead, he pulled away, muttering a quick apology that he had to leave before you got dragged into his own problems. Your mind barely registered the lack of his presence. It wasn't until you heard the front door close, signaling that he was gone.
Without a single good explanation as to why, he had left you alone.
The next morning you woke up. A crushing realization of what had happened last night hit you immediately.
At first you were angry.
You went to work and clocked in without saying hello to anyone at all. It would stay that way for the next eight hours or so. A silent rage would fill the hole that Peter had managed to dig in your heart.
You were a bitter mess.
It was easier for the customers to get on your nerves, and you cursed everyone who ever crossed your path. It took every bit of strength you had not to send several angry texts to Peter.
It stayed that way for a couple of days, until you decided to turn your anger on yourself. You felt so stupid that you had allowed yourself to get caught up in the antics of Peter. It was clear to you from the beginning that your focus should be on nothing but your summer job.
Peter had wormed his way into your heart, found a place where he felt comfortable and made himself at home there.
You slowly let yourself off the hook after a few months passed without any contract from either side. Your anger diminished exponentially. Your thoughts drifted less and less to the image of Peter. Eventually, your heart would stop racing after you passed a flower stand or a person who just happened to look a little too much like him.
One night, as you walked home from work, you let your mind wander. The painful sting of his memories wasn't so bad. And you knew that, at that very moment, you were feeling pretty good about your life again.
Then you stepped too close to the road and heard a car horn honking all around you. Your first thought being, "God, please don't let this be the way I die."
Your body tensed as the car approached at a rapid pace. So close that the lights blinded your vision, and you didn't have time to prepare for the arm that would hastily wrap around your waist. A breath was caught in your throat as the wind whipped through your hair, and your arms clung tightly to the masked figure of your savior.
"Why weren't you paying attention?" Were the first words out of his mouth as he set you down, "That car could have hit you and you could have died!"
Though grateful for your rescue, you didn't appreciate the tone he took with you.
You pried yourself out of his arms and smoothed the sleeves of your jacket. Angrily, you turned to him, your annoyance biting into your words, "look, I've had it with everyone and everything these past few months. I just got back on my feet again, I have no need for a lecture from you."
Silence fell between the two of you, and you saw yourself standing alone in the reflection of the whites of his mask. He choked for a second, seemingly at odds with what he wanted to say.
In a moment of regret, you realized that you had just yelled at the one person who had been able to save you from an untimely demise. Ashamed, you nervously licked your lips before muttering, "thank you, by the way."
The red mask prevented you from seeing the look on his face. But by the way his shoulders relaxed, you knew he wasn't upset. He ran a hand over his mask and let out a small, breathy laugh.
The sound of it made your heart stop and sent pins and needles shooting up the back of your neck. You could recognize that laugh anywhere. He seemed to notice that you also recognized him, and before you could say another word, he was gone.
You stood there mindlessly replaying the sound in your head. All of a sudden, things seemed to be a lot clearer to you.
Peter's mysterious bruises, sudden disappearances, and his lame excuses for always being late finally made sense.
Peter is Spider-man...
His words from the night he left echoed endlessly in your mind in a moment of clarity. Words of sorrow and despair, telling you that you couldn't be involved in his problems.
His problems, you thought at the time, were studying and learning new tricks on his skateboard, so the confusion you felt was justified. Now, though, you realize that he didn't mean his Peter Parker problems, it was Spider-man's problems that he was referring to.
Your phone found its way into your hands. The screen flashed brightly on your dark face. In your messages lay a forgotten draft to Peter. Slowly, you erased all the hateful and heartbreaking words. You replaced them with just two.
"I know."
As the message quickly went from "delivered" to "read" in less than a minute, the corners of your mouth twitched downward. Your hands trembled as you clutched the phone close, waiting for a response that would ultimately never come.
He was too afraid to tell you what he wanted.
You passed out as soon as you got home. Your mind was too tired to keep up with your newfound revelations, so you haphazardly tossed your phone aside and slid into bed. Time passed and your sleep was dreamless.
You weren't sure what time it was when you woke up, but the sound of thunder greeted your ears. You tried to blink away the drowsiness of your sleep as you pulled yourself out of the sheets. Your feet padded softly across your apartment's wooden floors until you sat down. Yawning, you reached for the remote and turned your tv on.
Not long after that, there was a faint knock at your door. You scanned your thoughts for possibilities of who would be at your apartment at this time of night, until you settled on one person.
With your nerves on fire, you shot up from the couch and quickly opened your door. It came as no surprise to see Peter stood in your doorway. He was soaking wet. It had obviously been raining while you were asleep. His wet, brown hair was stuck to his forehead, water droplets were collecting on his face, and his arms were wrapped around his frame in an attempt to retain any remaining body heat.
You noticed that he was shivering slightly, and with a hint of guilt you asked, "Peter, are you insane? It's late and it's raining."
You watched as his eyebrows knitted together; he opened his mouth to say something but then quickly closed it again. He seemed desperate to say something, and you silently pleaded that he would say anything to explain his sudden disappearance all those months ago. Without a word from him, you shook your head and started to close the door, but his foot pushed between the door and the frame.
You pulled the door open one more time and crossed your arms in front of you. He looked down sheepishly before finally speaking, "I'm sorry," the words falling from his lips flawlessly. A part of you wanted to take him in your arms and tell him that everything was alright, but the more sensible part of yourself knew that you deserved more than just those two words. With a lack of your response, he spoke up again, "I know you don't deserve how I left you, but I was scared. I, uhm, I was dealing with something? I know that's really vague but-"
Before he could finish his sentence, you held a hand up to silence him. With a sigh, you looked into his eyes and found all of his emotions swirling around in a pool of amber. "You don't have to keep hiding it, Peter. I know," you murmur.
His eyes dart around nervously, and his voice comes out a little shaky, "You-you know?" At your nod of confirmation, he runs a hand through his hair. Your name comes out as a whisper, and he continues, "I was so afraid that I was putting you in danger. That's why I left; I couldn't live with myself if you got hurt because of me. I know it's been a while, but I couldn't stop thinking about you every day." With every word of his confession, you felt yourself coming closer. The soft sound of his voice, in combination with the way he couldn't take his eyes off of yours, was a breaking point for you. With the brush of his hand against your cheek, every last big of anger you were holding on to disappeared.
Peter tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and you felt your voice break, "I missed you, so much. It hurt. You broke my heart, Peter." Without letting you utter another word; he pulled you into a tight embrace. He didn't care if his clothes were soaking wet. You buried your head in the crook of his neck and took in the sweet scent of his cologne as he held you. He rested his head on top of yours as he held you in his arms, and you allowed yourself to sink deeper into him.
"Let me put it back together, please." He pleaded, one hand on each side of your arms as he pulled away from you. "I'll be here for you, worse or for better, no matter what happens." His voice was stern, and you couldn't help the way your breath hitched in your throat. With one last plea his voice came out as a whisper, "I'll wait for you all my life."
A smile crept across your lips, and it was all the confirmation Peter needed before he cupped your jaw. Gently, he pulled you closer to him. He couldn't hold back his smile as his lips tenderly brushed yours. A hand moved to cradle the back of your head, closing any remaining distance so that he could kiss you properly. The kiss was soft, and yet it was filled with months of unfulfilled passion. Neither of you wanted it to end, but when you started to run out of oxygen, you had to pull away to breathe.
And that's how Peter got you, making damn sure that it was going to stay that way.
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multific · 9 months
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Take a Chance on Me
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Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: Every day you have been staring at him. The guy you had a crush on but you could never have. One day, on your way home you are saved by the one and only Spider-Man. And you finally feel like you have a friend.
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You stared at Peter.
Could he be any more attractive?!
You were supposed to be listening to the teacher but you just couldn't.
Thankfully, Mr Parker decided to sit right in front of said teacher so it wouldn't be that obvious that you were looking.
He was paying attention in class, as should you, but you just couldn't bring yourself to it.
Watching Peter's hair move as he wrote, watching his eyes as he paid attention and focused was much more interesting.
You let out a sigh as you heard the ring, class ended, and so did your daydream.
And now, you could head home.
But first, restroom time.
You headed into a stall when you heard others enter.
"Did you see Y/N staring at Peter again?"
"Yeah, how stupid is she? Thinking he would go for her?!" another girl said, you recognised their voices, you would say they were your bullies but you rather not call them anything to give them attention.
But their words did hurt.
Because you knew they were true.
Peter would never look at you.
So, you had to keep on staring at him from afar. 
When the girls left, you waited a good ten minutes before leaving as well.
You hopped on the bus and home you headed.
When you got off the bus and started walking home you felt as if someone was following you.
You checked behind yourself a couple of times and did see a man following you. Thankfully, there was a shop close by, so you headed in. 
Pretending to be looking at the items, you tried to see if the man left you or if he is in the store with you.
You even asked the cashier girl for help but all she said:
'Who would kidnap your ugly ass anyway?' before she continued to check her phone.
You left and let out a sigh of relief when the man seemed to be gone.
But that is how it was, seemed.
You took two turns before you saw the man yet again.
You let out a sigh, and you were kind of out of ideas now. You knew you needed to find a crowded place, but would anyone help you?
When you took another turn, someone grabbed your jacket and yanked you back, making you fall and hit your head a little on the ground.
The man was saying something and you could see the small pocket knife in his hand.
Then something red came into the picture, and the man was gone.
You blinked a couple of times before finally sound came back and the ringing of your ears stopped. 
This is when you saw Spider-Man fighting the guy. The guy managed to get one cut in which made you shriek as if he cut you.
But soon, the guy was on the floor and the police were on their way.
You let out a sigh as Spider-Man turned to you, "Are you okay?" he asked. "Did he hurt you?" but you could only stare at the wound on his arm. 
"You are hurt." 
"It is nothing."
"You saved me, thank you. Let me help you, I live close by." you grabbed his arm and without thinking, you guided him to your place.
Only when you were in front of him holding some disinfectant to his wound is when you noticed just what you were doing.
"Sorry. You probably don't need my help," you said as you watched him. "You can go... the window," you said pointing and it made him focus on you instead of looking around in your home. "Thank you for saving me."
"Why are you walking home alone?" he asked.
"Well, it isn't late and I have to get home somehow."
"Did you notice him before he attacked you?"
"I did. I went to a store, and asked for help but..."
"They didn't help you?"
"The cashier said I'm too ugly to get kidnapped so..." you shrugged your shoulders. 
"That's awful! What about your boyfriend?" why was he asking these questions?
"I don't have one. But you saved me so, it's all good."
"You should be careful. Ask someone to walk with you if you have to."
"I'm okay. Thank you for worrying. Go and save others." you headed to your window and opened it for him.
You could hear him letting out a sigh.
"I just want you to be safe, Y/N." your eyes widened, how did he know your name? As if he too realized what he just said and bolted out of your window.
You couldn't speak as you watched him swing away.
You couldn't help but wonder, how did he know your name?
---
The next day, you tried again to focus in class and after, you headed for the library.
It was later than you expected when you were finally able to get out of the building and head home.
You took a different route this time, however. 
"You shouldn't be walking alone." you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice beside you. 
You turned and saw Spider-Man next to you, casually walking.
"You nearly killed me!"
"Sorry, I thought you heard me!"
"I didn't! You landed like a leaf, I couldn't hear you at all!" you said as you gave him an angry look before you continued to walk.
"Long day?" he was quick to follow you.
"Yeah, had to stay at the library. For you?"
"Oh, no rather quiet today, I prefer that."
"How's your arm?" 
"Better! Thank you! And how are you? I see you are on a different route."
"Yeah... after yesterday I prefer the more crowded one."
"Understandable." a silence fell between you two as you continued to walk home. People often stopped him for pictures and you weren't sure if you should stop with him or what.
Soon, you two reached your home.
"Uh, thank you for walking me home, but you really don't have to. I can take care of myself."
"No problem. It is my duty as a superhero to help." you smiled then you remembered something that had been bothering you for the entire day.
"How did you know my name?" you could see him freeze for a moment.
"Oh, it is my duty as a superhero."
"Seems like you have a lot of duties. So, you know most people's names?"
"Not all of course, but I know many."
"Ah, okay. Have a good day then." you offered him one last smile before heading inside.
Why did you let yourself believe that you were special? Even just for a moment.
Of course, he would know most people.
He is a superhero! He saves people. You were only one out of the many.
---
However from that day on, almost every day, he walked you home. He was honestly very sweet and kind, but you felt guilty for taking up his time.
But he didn't seem to mind it, and you were certainly not going to tell him to stop.
He was your only friend.
And you didn't want to ruin it.
So, you spent your days daydreaming about Peter Parker, walking home with Spider-Man, and arriving home before repeating everything.
Your life was boring, but who else could say that Spider-Man was their friend?
Not many, you bet.
Peter on the other hand felt happy and sad at the same time.
It's been a long time now since he wanted to talk to you, and when he was finally able to, he had a mask separating the two of you.
He was too nervous to talk to you as Peter Parker, but Spider-Man feared nothing.
And to think he almost blew everything when he said your name...
At least now he could be closer to you, not in the way he wanted to, but it was something.
It became your normal, meeting Spider-Man and when you didn't, you knew he had something going on.
One late evening, you were walking home alone. Losing track of time after another long day, what was new?
You went into a convenience store grabbing some quick food before heading to the bus. You got on the bus and sat down at the back.
At the next stop, a rather familiar face got onto the bus, Peter Parker.
And of course, he had to sit just by the door so he would see you when you needed to get off... great.
You took a deep breath before he noticed you.
"Oh, Y/N, how nice to see you." you were a bit taken aback by his openness. He never spoke to you in school this way, and he acted as if he was your best friend or something.
He must have realized your sudden change in demeanour as he sat down across from you on the bus.
"Late study session?" he asked and you nodded. "I have many of those. You will be fine."
"Thank you." you said as you gave him a smile before moving to get off the bus at your stop. "See you in school." you said before waving to him goodbye and getting off.
Just as you turned the corner a familiar person came into view as he landed right beside you.
"You really need to stop scaring me." you said as you looked at him.
"Yes, well I-" he suddenly scooped you up and swung away with you. Just as you looked back down, you saw and heard the explosion go off. You two landed on the nearby rooftop.
"Are you okay?" he asked and you quickly nodded, yes.
"Go check it out." you said and he was quick to swing back into action.
You let out a long sigh. 
After about ten minutes you collected yourself and you debated leaving.
Should you wait for him? He might be too busy anyway.
So, you decided to leave instead.
But just as you did you heard a sinister laugh before someone scooped you up once again. But this time it wasn't Spider-Man. 
You nearly screamed when you realized that it was the Green Goblin. He flew so high, your fear of heights didn't help the situation one bit.
You desperately clung to him in your panic. 
But he just laughed.
"Catch!" he yelled before dropping you. You were high, right above a busy street.
You screamed as you saw Spider-Man follow you down.
He ended up catching you and swinging you away to a nearby roof.
"Are you okay?" he asked with such panic in his voice it nearly broke your heart.
"I'm good, thank you." but you made the mistake and looked down. You shouldn't have. The top of the Empire State Building wasn't so inviting when you didn't have anything to protect you so you cling right back into Spider-Man's arms. "Can you...uhh..."
"Yes, yes sorry." you closed your eyes shut as you just felt him move and soon your feet met the ground, your knees started shaking as you nearly fell, if it wasn't for him holding you up.
"Are you sure you are good?" he asked.
"Yes. Thanks." you tightened your hands around your bag before taking a step, testing the waters. You walked a bit before you turned only to see he followed you. "I'm good. Go catch the... green thingy." you said before turning once more and walking.
"You are going the wrong way." you stopped and looked at him as he pointed the other way. "You live that way." 
"Oh." is all you said before you turned and headed the correct way. "Thank you." 
You heard him follow you, but you didn't mind. You were still in shock.
"Thank you." you said one last time before you entered your home, you went to take a shower and sleep.
The next day you didn't have classes, so you decided to clean the house and get some groceries.
In the grocery store, you noticed Peter, you gave him a small wave and smile.
"Hi." he said as he walked over to you. "How are you today?" he asked, you found it strange but then you remembered you met with him yesterday when you were dead tired.
"Oh, I'm much better, had a nice long sleep."
"Good to hear, usually coffee helps me but- Sorry. I'm babling."
"Not at all. I usually drink tea, not a huge fan of coffee."
"Oh? Never met a person who didn't like coffee."
"I like it, I just prefer tea." you smiled at him before grabbing some chips and putting them into your basket.
"I don't want to sound weird or creepy but I really like you and I would like to go on a date with you."
"Sorry?" you asked, confused and shocked.
"I was wondering if you wanted to go out on a date with me?"
You looked around yourself, there was no one else in the aisle. 
"Me?"
"Yes." he laughed a little and nodded.
"I-Yeah, sure." you were dreaming or dead. Yes, you actually died yesterday and you were in heaven now."
"Brilliant! I will pick you up tonight 6pm? Dinner?"
"Sounds...good."
"Great! Have a nice day!"
You were still in shock for the rest of the day. You didn't even realize that Peter never actually asked for your address. So, was it just a prank?
It wasn't.
Exactly at 6 Peter stood in front of your apartment. You could barely believe it.
"You look lovely!" he said as he approached you.
"Thanks." you were at a loss for words. "How did you know where I live?"
"Oh, I overheard you talking about it once."
Weird.
You don't remember ever discussing it nor did you understand how he can remember.
But you went along with it.
Somehow.
It was a huge red flag that you decided to ignore for now.
The date he planned was simple, simple yet really nice. A simple dinner and a walk in the park.
After the second hour, you started to feel more comfortable around him and you could tell he was the same.
He smiled a lot, which made it very difficult for you to actually pay attention to what he was saying.
Both of you sat down on a bench, enjoying the nice weather as the city around you never stopped.
"Can I be very honest with you, Y/N?" 
"Of course, Peter."
"I have liked you for a very long time now. I kept staring at you on campus... I felt like a creep." 
"Peter-"
"Look, I understand it is creepy and weird, but I did it because I really liked you. You are so smart and interesting."
"Peter... I feel the same. I always stared at you in class."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes. So, it was very weird when you asked me out so suddenly. I genuinely thought you never even noticed me."
"I did! I notice you." Peter leaned back on the bench looking at a tree across from you as he let out a sigh. "I'm truly blind. I should have noticed and asked you sooner, but I didn't think you would like a nerd like me."
You didn't know what to say. You never noticed him, instead, you thought you were the creep here, as he looked at you, you offered him a smile. 
He slowly leaned in and you met him halfway for a gentle kiss.
It was only your first date, you needed to calm down.
But just the way his lips felt against yours, the way you could smell his cologne, and you could just tell that he was just as nervous as you were.
It was a slow and gentle kiss which ended very soon. 
Too soon, but it also made you very happy.
"So, I guess you are my girlfriend now."
"I guess, I am." you smiled at him as his hand found yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours. 
You never felt happier in your entire life.
Peter then walked you home and offered you one last kiss before he too headed home. He promised to call you tomorrow.
You went to bed thinking if this really happen or did you just have some sort of a fever dream.
But the smile never left your face.
Not even the next day when you anxiously waited for the call.
A call that never came.
You started to doubt if you gave the correct phone number. Did you put in the wrong one by accident? What if you mistyped and now he thinks you played him?
All kinds of thoughts rolled around in your head for the entire day.
You were so nervous, angry and then nervous again. It was a roller coaster.
A roller coaster which was cut short by a loud bang on your window.
You looked out and only saw the red before you opened it and Spider-Man climbed in.
"Oh my-" you couldn't even finish your sentence because he just collapsed onto the floor, with his back against the counter, you ran to get the first aid kit.
He was breathing but he was bleeding. 
By the time you arrived back, he had his shirt almost completely off as he showed you his deep cut that ran across his stomach. You also saw bruises forming.
"Couch!" you said as you guided him to lie down.
Once he was laying down, you grabbed your kit and started to clean his wound.
You didn't want to ask what happened, you kind of figured.
He ran into the bad guy, but you could guess 'You should see the other guy'.
"Do you need water? Or food? I can leave you to eat and drink without your mask."
"Water, please." you nodded and rushed to get him some water before returning. When you saw his hair you immediately turned to give him privacy as you handed him the water.
"Thank you." you heard him say before you heard him put the glass down. "Y/N... You will think I'm a creep, that I'm insane but, please... look at me."
"I can't. Your identity is secret for a reason."
"I don't care, I nearly died today and I realized many things. I realized that I didn't want to lose you because I love you."
You barely registered what he was saying, you blamed the blood loss.
"T-That's sweet but I have a boyfriend now."
"I know. It's me." this made you whip your head around so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. And indeed, it was Peter Parker on your couch.
"What?"
"I'm Spider-Man."
"No, I got that but...WHAT?!" you clearly didn't get it. So many things ran through your head but now it made sense how he knew where you lived. "So, you have... oh gosh." now you were thinking if you said anything weird, thankfully you didn't, but you could recall times when you almost did. Which almost made you cringe so hard you almost fell.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I am a creep and I lied to you so I can get close to you because I was too nervous to talk to you as Peter."
"I always stared at you in class." you suddenly blurred out. "And the others caught on, they always bullied me, saying you were too good for me, that I am only a loser. So I'm just as big of a creep as you are." his hand held yours as you kept staring into his eyes.
His perfect eyes.
"I do really like you, Peter. Spider-Man or not. I just... I always liked you."
"So did I." he smiled a little. 
"I just wasn't sure... after Gwen..."
"This is so much different than Gwen. I did love her, but I know that I can love you more. We fit together, I saved you, I was watching you walk home... almost every night, just so I can be sure that you are safe."
"Peter, I appreciate it, really. I just want you to be happy."
"And I-We-We will be." you gave him a smile as he moved but then hissed out in pain. 
"Don't move." you said as you moved closer to him, letting his lips meet yours.
You felt his palm cup your cheek as he kissed you with so many promises.
And from that day on, you could say that Spider-Man was your boyfriend.
Your life was boring, but who else could say that Spider-Man was their boyfriend?
Not many, you bet. 
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  
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backtothefanfiction · 11 months
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Turn Around | tasm!Peter Imagine
Summary- After his jealousy and protectiveness over you got the better of him the night before, Peter is desperate to make things okay again.
Warnings- slight angst, hint at potential assault, one curse word
Word Count- 858
A/N- Just a quick little Peter Parker x Reader imagine because I’m always in my Spider-Man feels, but it’s feeling a little intense right now and I couldn’t find something to fix it. Enjoy.
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‘Turn around. Look at me. Just turn around and look at me.’ It’s his only thought right now as he stands at his locker staring at your back across the hall.
Last night had been hell. He’d barely slept. The empty look in your eyes and your deafening silence ringing in his ears, his only company.
It had all gone so wrong.
‘Just look at me, please, just look at me.’
Your giggle echoed off the lockers and floated on the air towards him but he knew you better. Could hear your breathes, the quickened pace of your heart. Saw the way your fingers picked at the sleeves of your jumper as you held your books tighter than usual to your chest.
Maybe you’d never get over this. Maybe last night was a step too far. Maybe he should have never told you his secret in the first place. Maybe you’d still be looking at him.
Your friend looks at him. She glances between your face and his. There’s pity in her eyes, or is it confusion. He realises she’s trying to help him, to get you to follow her gaze but you won’t.
“Yo, Parker!” Flash Thompson’s voice echoes down the hall.
Peter hesitates for a brief moment. Maybe your own curiosity about what Flash would want with him would make you turn around. You don’t. He watches your shoulders rise as you hold your books even tighter to your chest and fight the urge.
“Hey, Parker.” Flash’s voice grows softer as he approaches Peter. “What are you-“
“Is he still looking over?” You ask the red head stood before you.
“No.” She responds, checking once over your shoulder and then back to you.
At her words you finally feel able to relax, a large sigh exhaling from your chest as your eyes fall to the floor before you. Your eyes close as you attempt to compose yourself in this brief moment when his eyes aren’t staring at your back, but it doesn’t work. You are instead met once again by the image of him from the night before, burned onto your retinas.
“Hey, is everything okay? What’s going on with you two?” Janie asks you, her tender hand resting against your arm.
You shake your head. “I… uh I, I can’t really talk about it- not- ready to talk about it yet.”
“Did you guys break up?” She presses.
“No, I mean, not yet at least, I just…”
“Did you have a fight?”
You almost flinch at her choice of words.
You had never seen Peter like that before. The way he hit that guy. Laid into him like he was a fresh cut of steak he was preparing for the grill. And as if to pour salt on the wound, he still crept in through your window and expected you to patch him up like nothing happened.
You didn’t even notice the guy following you. Didn’t think he was intentionally following you. But when Peter dropped down into that alley he saw red- Red. There was so much red. The guy in the alley- him in your room. The way you left him on the rooftop.
“Yeah, something like that.” You finally say to her, voice small and timid. You turn your head slightly, taking a small glance, not towards his face, but his feet. His familiar chucks, scuffed and worn from years of skateboarding. “I, uh, I’ll meet you in English.” You say shakily to Janie with a half hearted smile.
“Yeah, okay.” She replies, eyebrows furrowed, her voice full of concern. “You gonna be okay?” She asks you.
“Yeah, I just need some air.”
He turns his head to watch you walk away. ‘Turn around. Please just turn around.’ He’s practically begging at this point, as he only half listens to Flash talk about his girlfriend and this supposed photoshoot he wants Peter to do of her for him.
You still don’t turn. Fuck.
He slams his locker shut. “Uh yeah, sounds good Flash.” His words are rushed and he’s sure he’s gonna get a slug in the arm for cutting Flash off mid sentence and just walking away from him, but he could deal with that pain. It was the pain currently in his chest he was struggling to deal with.
It didn’t come from no physical wound, even though the look in your eyes felt like he’d been sliced open with a knife. He couldn’t make it go away, unlike the gashes on his skin that healed over night. Not until you turned around and looked at him again. When he is able to erase the pain he saw in your eyes. Those innocent eyes he felt stared straight into his soul. That didn’t see the poor little orphaned boy. Could see past the mask and bravado he used on the streets. No, somehow you have a way of seeing through all of that and bring back out the little boy who loved playing hide and seek and eating peanut butter jelly sandwiches with the crusts cut off.
He had to make this right. He just needed you to turn around.
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fandomnerd9602 · 9 months
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Torn Webs
Gwen Stacy x Spider!Reader
For @jacobblack3751009
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You were a Spider Person, a variant possessed by the Spirit of Justice. Normally that would make you the Ghost Rider. But most know you as the Skull Spider.
But that felt so long ago. You mostly spend time in the Spider Society HQ, talking with others and trying to have a jam session every now and then with Hobie. And yet everything felt wrong.
Your heart was breaking. Not only had your girlfriend, the Spectacular Spider Woman also known as Gwen Stacy, broken up with you but now you could see the object of her affection, the reason why: Miles Morales. Gwen never stopped going on about Miles, even when you and her were dating. And now here he is, being led into the HQ, with her right next to him.
If it wasn't for the Spirit of Justice currently residing in your heart, you would've spun out and gone mad. He's innocent, the voice tells you.
You take a deep breath and try to separate yourself from them. Didn't take long for Miles to end up in some sort of trouble with Miguel. The leader of the Society, one who you saw as a close friend, had the young Spider Man trapped in an electric web.
Miles soon broke out and all hell had broken loose, practically every Spider person was chasing. Well except you. Innocent, again the voice told you, help him.
You took a deep breath and swung down on your flaming chains. You scooped him up and out of sight of the other spider people.
"Let me go man!" the young spider person practically shouted and beat at your arms.
"Silence Morales" the voice takes over, "we're your only hope of getting out of here!"
You hide him in a crevice. The spider people zoom past without even noticing you or Miles.
"Why are you helping me?" Miles looks to you, trying not to get burned by your flames.
"You're innocent" the voice states before letting you take over. You remove your mask and look Miles in the eye. "Gwen likes you."
Miles remains silent.
"She...she broke up with me" you offer a sad smile. "But you mean a lot to her and...yeah."
You throw your watch to him and take his day pass in exchange, "thanks man" Miles gives you a sad nod as he slips on the watch.
"Treat her well" you state before leaping away, swinging on chains. Your mind races with hurt and anxiety but you know you did right. Even if you couldn't be happy with Gwen, maybe Miles could.
Miles toggles with the watch before landing on his Earth and taking off into a portal.
You reach a ledge overlooking the future city. The Spirit of Justice cools down and recedes back into you. Gwen lands behind you, "where is he?"
"Home" you tell her, "as you should be. Never leave something unsaid. Trust me, your time with your dad is always limited"
Gwen walks up to you and kisses your cheek, "thank you"
"Besides the Spirit of Justice, my heart only had room for you" you tell her before leaping off the building and swinging away. "I hope you find happiness," that was the last thing you told her.
"I hope you do too,"Gwen whispers, clutching her chest. She didn't mean to hurt you but something about Miles meant something to her. Gwen could only hope that you could find some happiness.
Maybe there was a universe where she didn't break up with you. At least you could happy...in another universe, another time.
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spider-stark · 11 months
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almost finished with the next part of infinitely you🙏
BUT i wanted to ask something. would anyone be interested in seeing a graphic as well as a sneak preview of the tasm!fic i have planned for after infinitely you? i started planning it forever ago and with any luck i’ll have several parts pre-written and ready for posting in june :)
don’t wanna give too much away without just doing the preview, but the entire idea spawned from NWH when Andrew!Peter discussed no longer pulling his punches, except i ultimately turned it up a notch and went crazy with the idea
essentially, i’m proposing a dark spider-man fic
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jupitercomet · 2 years
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The Office’s Guide to Falling in Love
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summary - You are not in love with Peter Parker. He’s just your best friend who makes you watch The Office with him. So why is Jim so relatable?
warnings - fluff, language, office spoilers, italicized dialogue is office quotes
word count - 3.6k
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It was hard for you to think of Peter as anything more than a friend. It wasn’t anything of his own doing, there was nothing he could have done to change this outcome if he tried. It was more of a defense mechanism. You saw Peter as a friend because you couldn’t see him as anything more than a friend. And it wasn’t like it was easy, but repressing emotions began to come like second nature. Bright, tooth filled smiles and bashful looks to the floor were always common and it felt like every second you were getting better at holding back the butterflies that were buzzing in your chest. Peter was a friend because you were too. And that’s all you would be.
The thing was, you didn’t know if you loved Peter. You knew what it was like to love a family member, what it was like to love a friend, but everyone said that when you love love someone, it’s different. How do you know you love someone if you have no conception of it? You could just as easily say you didn’t love Peter just as you could say you did love him. What’s the point of ruining a friendship over something you don’t even know to be true?
And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried. Phillip Garner, 6th grade, pretended to propose to you in the parking lot of your middle school, turned straight to your friend and asked if she was jealous enough to date him now. Ricky Mueller, the boy you’d had a crush periodically for five years straight, told you to your face that he thought your best friend was hotter than you. Liam Wagner, took you on your first real date, held your hand and made you smile, motioned to the backseat of his car with a suggestive smile, left you alone in the parking lot when you refused. The list goes on.
At some point, you realized that the common factor was that there always seemed to be someone better than you. And that was fine. Who cared if a couple guys didn’t think you were worth it? But how could you confidently look at yourself, see all the flaws they were quick to point out, and think that Peter could love you? The most mediocre boys you’d ever met couldn’t see you that way, it was only a logical conclusion that Peter couldn’t either.
And maybe people would say that you were closing yourself off to opportunities or that you shouldn’t put all your value into what a couple guys thought of you, but when you couldn’t recall one positive romantic experience, it was easier to shut it down when you still could. So while everything about Peter seemed to fill you with an inflated feeling you couldn’t place, you ignored it. You don’t feel those things about your friend.
“You look like you died.” Peter’s comment had you nudging him playfully, rolling your eyes.
“Maybe if you didn’t keep forcing me to binge Star Wars with you, I would have enough time to finish all my homework and go to sleep before two in the morning,” you shot back, fully expecting him to respond with some witty reply, but it never happened.
Peter looked down thoughtfully, as though considering your words, which were serious to an extent, but you would never fault him for it. He twisted the straw of his coffee cup a couple times before looking back up at you.
“Here,” the cup was placed in your hand and you gave him a quizzical look.
“Did you not want it anymore?”
Peter let out a soft laugh at your words, though you had no idea why. “If that’s what makes you drink it, then sure.”
You weren’t sure if love was supposed to be painful, but considering everyone had only good things to say about it, you didn’t think it was. Which was just another reason why you didn’t love Peter. Because it felt like a crushing weight on your chest to watch him throw his head back with laughter or smile so bright you swear it could light up any room. You pushed aside the fact you only seemed to feel that pain when his laugh or smile wasn’t directed at you.
You knew that part of you was scared that one day Peter would find someone. It was a thought you had a lot actually. It wasn’t like you and Peter could just stay the way you were forever. Your relationship was close, closer than quite a few of your friends thought it should be for just ‘pals’ and you couldn’t really argue with them. The day Peter got a girlfriend, you knew your friendship would change because part of you knew that your friendship wasn’t normal. But Peter only thought of you as a friend. So it should be easy, right?
“What happened? Did you miss your bus?” You couldn’t remember the last time Peter hadn’t been first on the Academic Decathlon bus on competition day and now he wasn’t even on the bus, he was standing on your front porch.
“No, I just missed my wife.” His words had your eyebrows almost raised to your hairline as that was, quite possibly, the last thing you were anticipating to hear.
“What the fuck?” You could stop yourself, the words rolling off your tongue before you could think.
Your reaction drew a loud laugh from him, the sound making you almost shiver. “C’mon Y/N, have you never seen The Office? You quoted Pam word for word.”
“Oh,” again you spoke before you thought and the word sounded dejected on your lips. Backtracking quickly, you stepped aside to let him in.
If Peter had noticed your quick change in attitude, he didn’t say anything, making himself at home on your couch like he always seemed to. You still had no idea what he was doing there, but, knowing him, it meant that the competition had probably been canceled and he had come to hangout with you instead.  
“You playing hooky, Parker?” You teased, falling back into the normal patterns of your friendship and you made yourself comfortable on the cushion next to him.
“A couple students from the other team got the flu, so they decided to reschedule,” he shrugged. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, a common defense mechanism, it gave you a couple seconds to catch yourself when you noticed you were staring too long. “No, I haven’t seen The Office. Does this mean you’re gonna stop being my friend?”
Especially more recently, it felt like anytime you had made some sort of self-deprecating joke, Peter would ignore the playful air around you and say something meaningful. And you weren’t quite sure why.
“I’m never gonna stop being your friend.”
You shifted awkwardly, letting out a cough and trying to ignore the fact that Peter was looking at you. Grabbing the remote, you turned on the T.V. quickly.
“So,” you turned to him with a smile plastered onto your face. “Should we watch it then?”
The seriousness in Peter’s eyes seemed to disappear and he smiled at your suggestion, taking the remote from you and pulling up the first season of the show he was determined to make you love. You hadn’t meant to, but as the opening scene played on the screen, you found yourself scooting closer and closer to Peter. But only because he had the blanket.
“That’s Pam and Jim,” he spoke softly in your ear as the camera panned to the two characters. “He’s in love with her, but she has no idea. She thinks he only thinks of her as a friend.”
You knew you were reading into things. You knew you were. But something about the way he said it made you wonder. He’s in love with her, but she has no idea. She thinks he only thinks of her as a friend.  
It became a tradition between the two of you. Every Friday, one of you would go home with the other and watch as many episodes as you could sit through. Any time Peter had patrol, you would just wait until after, getting as far as you could in the show before he inevitably passed out. 
You knew you would have enjoyed the show regardless, but watching Peter laugh at every joke or mouth along to the scenes he’d memorized made the whole experience that much better. You couldn’t even be mad at yourself for not watching it sooner. How could you be, when you got to experience the whole thing through Peter’s eyes. 
However, the only negative was that, now, it was getting more difficult to say you didn’t love Peter. Your only measure of defense was that you didn’t really know what love was and, therefore, couldn’t really point it out when you saw it. And that made it easier to ignore your growing feelings because you could just tell yourself you had no idea what you were thinking. It made it easier for Peter to stay a friend. 
But then you started watching this show, this bizarre, wacky show about a stupid nine-to-five job at a paper company. You watched this character talk about his love interest the same way you thought about Peter. It felt like his script was coming straight from your mind and that was the scariest thing. Jim was supposed to be in love with Pam. You weren’t supposed to be in love with Peter. So why did everything Jim say make so much sense?
“I don’t think I can watch an episode tonight,” Peter grumbled as he finally got to fall into bed. “I just wanna sleep.”
You nodded, though he couldn’t see you. That night’s patrol had not been kind to the boy. On top of the fact that he let a criminal get away, Tony Stark laid into him — via comms — about his reckless behavior. Which was somewhat warranted given how many hits Peter took while pursuing the armed criminal, you were almost positive they would leave bruises. 
After putting up with an almost merciless beating and still losing, Peter was definitely not in the best of moods. You had offered to just go home when he came through his bedroom window, suggesting you could just schedule your Office night for another time, but the idea seemed to disgust him and you ended up staying with him anyway.
Realizing you had been standing in the middle of his room for too long, you moved to lie down next to him. You hated seeing Peter like this. And it wasn’t because you loved him, it was because he was your friend and you cared about your friends. His face had been buried in his pillow the moment he got in bed and you could already picture the grumpy look on his face. Drumming your fingers on his back, you tried to think of ways to cheer him up. So you did the only thing you could do.
“Do you want me to beat him up for ya?”
You felt his body still under your hand and, for a moment, you thought you messed up. But soon enough, he turned slightly, removing his face from the pillow and finally letting you look at him.
“No, I shouldn’t have to ask you to do stuff like that,” you could see he was trying to bite back a smile. “You should just do it.”
As soon as the words left his lips, he was smiling again and you felt your heartbeat pick up. It was easy to say you weren’t in love, it was easy to say anything. But it was much harder to believe it. So you could say you didn’t love Peter all you wanted, but moments like this, the both of you in his room as you finally made him smile because it was your favorite sight in the world, made you really question the truth behind those words.
“Do you think we’re like Pam and Jim?” Peter had closed his eyes, so he couldn’t see the way your smile faltered. 
“Don’t kid yourself, you’re Dwight,” you teased him, though the words held little weight in your mind. “I could be, like, Angela or something.”
“Jokes on you,” he mumbled sleepily, turning over to get more comfortable. “They get together too.”
If you loved Peter the way Jim loved Pam, then you most certainly couldn’t tell him how you felt. In fact, you could kiss the writers for giving you a way out. Because Jim confesses to Pam and you watch them fall more and more in love, and suddenly you’re wondering why you don’t just confess to Peter and then this show, this beautiful, beautiful show, reminds you exactly why you can’t. Because yes Pam and Jim fall in love, but now you’ve reached season nine and you're slowly watching them fall out of it. 
And then Peter queued up the next episode, Paper Airplane, and you’re sitting in silence because you’re right back where you started. Because they aren’t falling out of love, they’re working through it and, if anything, it’s just another reason that you should tell Peter how you feel. 
You knew you loved Peter and you couldn’t hide it from yourself anymore. You could sit there and say that you didn’t know what love was or that it wasn’t even worth it to fall in love. But love was giving someone your coffee when they needed it more, or telling them some silly inside joke to make them smile, or showing up at their house unexpectedly because your first thought was wanting to spend time with them, or memorizing almost every quote from The Office because it was special to them. It was beautiful. It was a type of beauty you didn’t want to miss out on just because you were scared. 
And maybe Peter didn’t love you the way you loved him. But maybe he did, because for as many examples of love you could list for yourself, you could list them for him too. That had to mean something, right? Peter was this stable force in your life that came in the form of a lanky boy with awkward giggles and cheesy jokes. Peter never made you feel like a second choice. You couldn’t name one pleasant romantic memory but you could name millions of memories with Peter that felt pleasantly romantic. 
“I’m gonna have to cancel next Friday,” Peter’s voice next to you brought you out of your thoughts.
“That’s okay,” both of you pulled your attention from the television. “Are you patrolling or something?”
“No, um,” Peter scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Ned wanted to set me up with one of his friends, so we’re gonna go to the movies on Friday.”
As real as The Office seemed to be sometimes, you weren’t a character in a T.V show. Peter wasn’t going to magically fall in love with you, there wasn’t just going to be some grand gesture that wrapped up the season, that just didn’t happen in real life. You could love Peter all you wanted, but that wouldn’t change anything. It made things worse if anything, because now that you knew you loved him, you couldn’t justify staying friends with him. It wasn’t fair to you, or Peter, or whichever girl he ended up loving.
“Are you okay?”
The Friday of Peter’s date had come and passed and you were doing your best to pretend it never happened. You didn’t even know how it went, not really bothering to pull that information from your best friend and he didn’t seem very keen on sharing it either. Out of the two of you, you least expected you to be the one who was trying to fall back into the normal patterns of your friendship and Peter to be the one acting odd. But you were three episodes in and Peter still had yet to even laugh at a joke. 
“I was just…” you paused the show for Peter’s benefit. “I’m in love with you.”
You didn’t even let yourself react, furrowing your brows slightly as you thought.
“I can’t remember Pam’s line,” you finally conceded.
“Y/N, I’m serious,” Peter sat up slightly, turning to you fully. “I’m in love with you, like I’m actually in love with you.”
Though you had always tried not to, you had been dreaming of this moment for so long. But you never expected to feel that chest crushing pain or feel your eyes water faster than they ever had before. You were more confused by your reaction then Peter was, looking between him and the television as your emotions seemed to be turning against you.
You didn’t know what love was, you didn’t. You’d based the whole idea of it off of some show. And now Peter was saying he loved you. And that went against everything you’d ever thought about yourself. Because Phillip Garner didn’t love you, and Ricky Mueller didn’t love you, and Liam Wagner didn’t love you, and Peter was so much better than all of them.
“Peter, you don’t—” You still had no idea why you were crying, making the panic fueling your senses heighten. “That’s not— You’re lying.”
“Y/N,” he tried to wipe your tears, but you pushed his hands away. “I’m not lying.”
“But that doesn’t—” You got up from the couch, running a shaky hand through your hair. “What about your date?”
“I don’t know,” Peter looked down, the conversation going in a way neither of you expected. “My friends just wanted me to get over you and I guess maybe I thought I had to, but I don’t want to get over you. The best part of my week is when we watch The Office together. The best part of my life was meeting you. Honestly, I can’t remember a time when I didn't know I loved you.”
“How do you know, Peter?” It felt like every part of your body was at war with itself. You wanted to believe Peter, that was all you wanted, but you couldn’t. “How do you know you love me?”
Peter got up from the couch, grabbing your hands and looking at you with so much sincerity you almost waivered. “How could I not love you? Y/N, you’re my favorite person in the whole world and I don’t need to be 50 or— Or 30 or whatever to know that. I see you and everything and it’s beautiful. I see you in people and places, I see you in that ice cream shop you swear you got food poisoning at, but we both know you might just have a lactose sensitivity. I see you at my Decathlon competitions, cheering me on in the stands and sacrificing so many things because you know that seeing you there makes me happy. I can’t thank you enough for how you let me see the world. And there could be millions of Karens, or Cathys, or, hell, even Pams, and it would still be you. It’s always gonna be you.”
There was no way you could tell Peter he was lying. He wasn’t. And you knew he wasn’t because he was looking at you the same way you looked at him. He’d always looked at you the way you looked at him. 
“Not ‘enough’ for me?” His voice caused you to look up at him. “You are everything.”
You let out a watery giggle, wiping your eyes. You could really see what Pam saw in him now, Jim really did have a way with words.
You didn’t know about love. But you knew that love wouldn’t fix everything. Just because Peter loved you didn’t mean that you couldn’t love yourself. You had spent so long thinking you weren’t enough for people, when it didn’t matter if you weren’t. You should have been enough for yourself. And while it was hard to change that mindset and you had to fix it yourself, Peter sure made it a lot easier. Love was not a solution to all of your problems, love was the reason you kept fighting through them. And considering that reason had always been Peter, you should have known you loved him a lot sooner.
“Hey,” his voice was soft as he opened the door for you.
It was your last Office night, you only had two episodes left, though you had no doubt you’d find another one. Just maybe not one as meaningful.
This time, you didn’t suppress your bashful look to the ground. “Hey.”
Peter’s hand was cupping your cheek, slowly coaxing you to look at him and, though you could look into his eyes for the rest of your life, you didn’t have much time to. In that moment, you were almost thankful that every guy you’d liked had been kind of a jerk, because if they had held you back from Peter and the way he was kissing you right now, life definitely wouldn’t have been as beautiful as it was now.
“Wow. We should have started dating, like, a long time ago,” he whispered, pulling away slightly, a cheesy grin on his face.
You bit your lip with a smile, the feeling of complete, utter, indescribable happiness filling your chest once more. “Stop quoting The Office, you dork.”
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marvelxgirls · 1 year
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Spider-Girl Enters Midtown High School AU
Pt.1
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happyimagines · 1 year
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Please send in requests
Hi everyone, our inbox is empty and we are asking for requests! We are writing for a lot of fandoms and would appreciate some interaction with the page
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i-ate-the-rats · 8 months
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hehehehe oh shit indefinite sad dark shadow (⊙ˍ⊙).
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unluckiestmember · 10 months
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Hiiii.
Could we get a good old best friends to lovers with Hobie and opposite reader? Idk I think he would be so awkward lmao
Coming right up!
Best Friends to Lovers: Hobie Brown X Fem! Reader
Characters: Hobie Brown
Tags: Friends to lovers, meet cute, fluff, nervous! Hobie, Hobie being Hobie, anarchy, awkwardness, denial and reassurance.
Warning: None. SFW.
A/N: I bet Hobie would make a cute boyfriend, minus the fact that he'd probably have us end up in jail every week or two-
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You and Hobie became friends when you two met at a rager.
He thought you were cute rocking out. You thought he was cute causing mayhem.
After that night, the both of you would spend time together raising havoc in the UK and pissing off the Prime Minister.
Unlike other Spider-Men, he didn’t hesitate to inform you he was Spider-Punk.
He would mindlessly flirt with you when he wasn’t doing hero work and playfully pushing your buttons just to get a reaction.
You believed he was just being funny at first and so did he.
But then days you hung out turned into weeks.
Then months.
And soon years.
And as those years passed, a strong emotion brewed within Hobie targeted towards you.
Now his flirting would be more intimate when he wasn’t busy trying to correct his own words.
He would start to act like the men he mocked daily on those rom-coms and soap operas you watched for giggles.
If he made a mistake, he wouldn’t own it, he would actually say sorry and stumble over himself.
It was kind of cute, in a funny way, but also confusing.
Why was he acting like this around you, you wondered?
You let it keep going until it started to affect his hero work terribly.
His chill nature sort of depleted and his calculations would be thrown off if you were around him.
Again, it was cute. Until it wasn’t.
Eventually, you sat him down to talk about it and he told you the route of the problem;
You. He had fallen in love with you.
You never expected Hobie Brown, entitled anarchist and supposed man who had zero cares in the world, to fall in love with you.
But he did.
He was scared you would reject him.
So imagine his cute shocked face when you said you felt the same.
The man went into a fit of laughter when he realized how easily all this awkward energy could have been avoided if he just spoke up.
But no use crying over spilled milk!
You two started dating and Hobie got his groove back!
But it still makes you laugh at your boyfriend when he gets giddy around you sometimes.
He was your cute little anarchist.
Spider-Verse Requests are open!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
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wyvernest · 8 months
Text
mating szn
part 1 (part2)
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pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating
summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy
You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.
Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning. 
"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.
You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.
"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased. 
He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck. 
He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.
You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.
He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.
"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.
He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.
The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.
Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.
When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.
He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.
Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.
And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress. 
He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.
His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.
"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions. 
He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him. 
All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear. 
With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.
"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go. 
And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.
His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips. 
He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.
Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.
"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)
You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.
Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.
"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.
He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.
He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.
He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.
"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it. 
And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts. 
You're ovulating.
Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.
He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.
"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."
Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.
His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.
But you want to see more of how needy he is.
You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.
Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.
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divider by @cafekitsune
HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️
a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.
14K notes · View notes
cyberjam · 10 months
Text
ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆
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warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!
word count - 2.1k
main masterlist <3
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☆ . . . miles morales
I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.
If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.
Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.
He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)
Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.
He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3
"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."
☆ . . . gwen stacy
She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.
Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.
She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.
You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.
She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.
You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.
"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."
☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar
It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).
You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.
He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.
There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.
A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)
He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.
He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...
"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."
☆ . . . hobie brown
What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.
I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.
Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.
He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.
When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)
Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."
Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.
"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."
☆ . . . miguel o' hara
You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.
Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.
He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.
He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.
He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.
If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.
"Can I kiss you?"
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omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33
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liliacamethyst · 10 months
Text
Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 
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Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 3.7K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.
Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.
However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.
Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.
You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.
One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.
"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.
He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."
There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.
In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.
Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.
His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.
During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.
But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.
This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.
And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.
Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”
You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.
Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.
You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.
As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.
“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”
Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”
You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.
Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”
You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”
“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.
Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”
Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”
You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.
"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.
Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.
"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.
"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"
His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.
He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.
"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."
“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.
“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.
Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.
He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”
“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”
He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”
“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”
He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”
“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”
The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.
“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.
Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.
“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”
Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.
“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”
Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”
You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.
Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.
Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.
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The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.
The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.
The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.
"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.
You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.
The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.
"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.
You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.
Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.
You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.
Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.
With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.
The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.
“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”
The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.
“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.
Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.
“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.
Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.
Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.
As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.
Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."
Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.
"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.
Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"
Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”
Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”
Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”
Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"
Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.
"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.
"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.
“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.
“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.
Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know,  I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”
Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.
Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.
Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”
“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.
“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.
Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.
After she leaves, the trio leans in.
“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.
Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”
Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”
They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.
As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.
"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.
"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.
There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.
"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.
"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”
Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.
"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."
Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."
You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.
"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"
“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.
You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”
Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”
You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"
Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”
“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”
There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.
Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”
Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”
Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."
You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.
“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.” 
They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.
Part 2 “Webs of Fate”
a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx
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cheralith · 10 months
Text
to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader 」
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content warnings ; fem!reader, use of she/her pronouns, "mother"/"daughter"/"wife" used, parental death, mentions of child abandonment, not too much mention of him being spider-man
contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, hints of pining, just some good ol' fluff for everyone's current favorite dilf, angst w/ comfort, heavy need of editing prob, not beta read
notes ; purely self-indulgent to fuel my love of found family trope apologies
parts: one two three four (tba)
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Single Father!Miguel O'Hara whose life revolves essentially around one person—his daughter—but to be one of the heads of America’s largest corporation and bearing the responsibility of keeping Nueva York safe and sound whilst simultaneously being a single father was not exactly something that Miguel O’Hara could juggle so easily. Hell, he’s even surprised that he’s made it so far without losing his absolute sanity considering he couldn’t even recall the last time he was able to rest properly without his attention being wavered to something or someone else.
Single Father!Miguel whose hands always filled to the brim with tasks and obligations. Miguel wished he was able to clone himself twice in order to have three Miguel O’Haras attending to each of his duties soundly, but alas, Alchemax and the matter of his mind can only do so much.
Single Father!Miguel whose ever so lucky to have you as his assistant to at least help with two out of three of them. You entered the picture around three years ago, when he had caught the eye of his superiors and had used his intelligence to their own advantage, disguising it as a promotion of sorts. You were given as some sort of gift to them as a way to help ease his workload and he truly couldn’t be more thankful for your existence—if he doesn’t necessarily show it most of the time from his stoic countenance he masks on 24/7. While not exactly a carbon copy of him, you, by far, come rather close, and Miguel will take whatever comes to him in this day and age.
Single Father!Miguel who notices that you're obedient and demure, though rather soft spoken and a little too apprehensive for his liking at times (he had noticed, before you became his assistant, that your coworkers would shovel their workload onto you and you’d accept with little complaint but evident hesitation; he wonders if it was the given similarities between you and him that made him choose you as his assistant). You dressed well, hung onto every word he said, and spoke out when properly needed. You were a good aid to have around—great, even.
Single Father!Miguel who trusts you as both his assistant and a human being enough to leave his precious daughter in your care knowing full well she would be in good hands. Sometimes Alchemax would work him overtime, sometimes his duties as Spider-Man would interfere. No matter what it was, it delayed him from seeing and attending to his daughter’s needs, and thus, he had asked you once in a while to pick up and babysit his daughter after your usual 9-5.
Single Father!Miguel who, at the beginning, once in a while asked you to pick his daughter up from school. Once in a while turned into occasionally. Occasionally turned into sometimes. Sometimes turned into constantly, and next thing Miguel knew, you were the one that his daughter and teachers would look out for during school pick up time. He didn’t expect that you would become his assistant even outside of work, but you did, and Miguel can’t exactly turn back time now. He’s labeled you as his child’s unofficial secondary caretaker—you’re even listed as an emergency contact.
Single Father!Miguel who thinks you’re too polite for your own good. Miguel had asked you once if this was a burden, being his assistant both in and out of Alchemax, and if it became too much that you were more than free to quit at any sudden time without consequence. You had merely replied that you understood the struggles of being a single parent and that he shouldn’t be ashamed of asking for help when it was needed. 
Single Father!Miguel who notices that Gabriella views you more than just her occasional babysitter. When he'd come home late at night, he was usually greeted by you two doing something together, whether it be doing math homework together, baking cookies, you reading aloud to her, or just simply talking, he'd always catch you and her almost... bonding.
Single Father!Miguel who often dwells on the memory of young Gabriella asking innocently why she doesn't have two parents like the rest of her classmates, why she only had one parent compared to everyone else after witnessing she was the odd one out during Family Day. Miguel didn't, and still doesn't, have the courage to tell her that her real mother had abandoned her to him, leaving Miguel in the dust. Miguel used her naivety to his advantage. He disguised it as her being unique compared to others, that some moms just came later in life; she just happened to be a late bloomer.
Single Father!Miguel who always thanks you for staying late tucking Gabriella into bed when he couldn't. You constantly tell him that it's truly no problem, but he insists on thanking you every time and ever so subtly increasing your paycheck. How could he not? Especially considering the fact you always, always whip him up extra dinner that was tucked away for him to eat during the late hours of night.
Single Father!Miguel who feels uneasy as he opens up a fridge to find the said pasta left by you one night in a glass tupperware container, staring at how neatly it’s been plated despite its standard container. He juts it into the microwave as he attempts to ignore how quiet and desolate the kitchen and the apartment is, how the humming of the microwave and the humdrum of the ceiling fan are the only noise that floats through. And when he quietly eats the pasta serving meant for one, he can’t help but gaze longingly at the empty seat across the dining table, where someone else should be seated with him sharing the same meal.
Single Father!Miguel who finally has the time to pick up his daughter after school for once in the school year, but forgot to tell you that you were able to take the rest of the day off. So you, him, Gabriella, and essentially everyone are surprised when both you and Miguel show up to pick Gabriella up after school. One of the teachers goes to gush about how she's excited to meet Gabriella's dad and what a beautiful family you all are, to which you and Miguel, evidently flustered, explain loosely your relationship to each other and how it's merely professional (to one curly-headed third grader, though, it's not—but she'd never tell you and her father that. At least not now.).
Single Father!Miguel who tags along to Gabriella's after school soccer practice for once and despite your protests about you not wanting to interfere "family time", Miguel and his daughter convince you to come watch her like you usually did on Wednesdays. He says he doesn't mind at all and if anything, could use your presence there to ease his nerves since he'd be a newcomer to the soccer parent group.
Single Father!Miguel who watches attentively to how you support Gabriella on the field from the sidelines. He wonders tenaciously if you've fallen into routine of this—from helping her get ready into her uniform to offering small suggestions that help her on the soccer field. He doesn't miss the way her eyes go towards you whenever she did something right and he especially catches onto the fact that she would gush in pure happiness from your approval when you would throw a thumbs up or a delighted nod.
Single Father!Miguel who merely blinks at the compliments given by the two friendly soccer mom next to him.
"Gabi does certainly look a lot like you, but she still has (Y/N)'s beauty and kindness, doesn't she?"
"Oh yes, I agree. Your wife is nothing less of lovely, you know, you're a very lucky man, Mr. O'Hara!"
He's so caught up in trying to process both their words and Gabriella's action on the field, that it doesn't register to him until a few moments later. Miguel attempts to butt in, saying that you're just his subordinate, but when a loud cheer from the other team erupts through, his words fail him.
Single Father!Miguel whose mind is still so stuck on what the soccer moms had said about you that he didn't even realize Gabriella had made the winning goal for today's practice match. Lying through his teeth when asked about if he saw it from her, he realizes that perhaps he should start viewing you in a different light rather than just his daughter's babysitter because the way that Gabriella looks at you with such elation when you congratulate her on her win pulls at his heartstrings ever so slightly.
Single Father!Miguel who contemplates over and over again if he should be doing this—inviting you to Gabriella's first game of the season—the two purchased tickets he held in his fist. You've entered his home a dozen of times, but this would be the first time in three years that he was outside of your own residence. He thinks he's too dressed up for the occasion, cladded in a white button up and black dress pants. A voice asks him if he's his daughter's boyfriend, and Miguel whips around to face an elderly man with a questioned look on his face.
Single Father!Miguel who realizes that it's your father standing in front of him, spare key in hand. He's quick to say no (to your father's disappointment), and introduces himself as your superior. Your father invites Miguel inside your apartment, telling him that you were out fetching groceries and jokingly mentions he uses this opportunity to sneakily fill your cabinets and fridge of food. Your father complains you're too independent for your own good, but he can't exactly blame you—you grew up that way.
Single Father!Miguel who learns that once in your life you were just like his daughter and that in one point in your father's life, he was just like Miguel. All details shared from him, he learns that your mother passed away early in your life due to cancer and ultimately left you and your father to fend for yourselves. Your father tells Miguel that you often had helped out even when you didn't need to—and it doesn't take long for Miguel to piece the pieces together. Why you barely complain about the extra workload, why your father said you're too autonomous, and why all those years ago you not only sympathized with Miguel, but understood his situation as you came from the same exact upbringing.
Single Father!Miguel who listens intently when your father quietly tells him that all he wants for you is to find a good man that would be able to take care of you properly because he believes he wasn't able to. Miguel is quick to reassure him, however, that he did a fantastic job raising a selfless, humble woman that grew to be compassionate and considerate of others' needs, that you were the hardest worker he had ever seen and that he shouldn't discredit himself. Your father goes to examine Miguel for a moment before letting out a loud, haughty laugh in your apartment and jokingly (not really) tells Miguel he hopes that you'll marry him one day, or at least someone like him.
Single Father!Miguel whose resolve dissipates when you walk into your apartment to find your boss and your father talking amongst each other. He sits silently and awkwardly as you complain to your father about dropping by without any warning before you ask him what was he doing here in the first place. Your father takes his leave, winking at Miguel with a glint in his eye, leaving you two in your apartment alone.
Single Father!Miguel who finally gathers up the courage to ask you if you'd like to attend Gabriella's soccer game with him. You interject with visible hesitation, telling him that it was implied that it was a family-only event and you'd hate to intrude onto something so intimate, but he's quick to reassure you that his daughter would love to have you there considering all the help you had given her during her practices—if anything, she would need you there for your support.
Single Father!Miguel who tells you that Gabriella had shown visible distress last night when Miguel told her that you might not be able to come due to your non-familial relationship with them. He almost begged you to come with them, as Gabriella had even threatened to quit soccer altogether if you weren't there to witness her first game. When you give in after moments of contemplation, Miguel truly couldn't believe his luck.
Single Father!Miguel who roots alongside you for Gabriella and her team, watching oh so closely just in case someone from the other team did a dirty trick on his precious daughter. He'd sometimes occasionally glance at you, only to see you completely zoned in and focused on Gabriella's playing like the rest of the parents, offering your support through compliments and encouragements that his daughter always caught and would visibly improve from. When she finally scores the winning goal per usual, she's quick to ignore the cheers coming from her teammates and parents to run off the field and not look for Miguel first, but for you.
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"Did you see me?!" Gabriella exclaims excitedly as she flings her arms around your waist. "Did you see what I did?!"
"I did, yes," you laugh, attempting not to stumble over from the impact with visible glee and crouch down to her height. Pride written all over your face, you grin. "And I'm so incredibly proud of you."
"It's 'cause I did what you taught me," she declares. "I pointed first and then I shooted!" She uses hand gestures to reanimate her play on the field.
"Shot, Gabi," you correctly gently, your fingers going to automatically comb out the tangles out of her hair like you usually did after practices. "It does come handy, doesn't it?"
"Yeah!" Her eyes go to see Miguel, who doesn't stalk too far behind with open arms and the same proud look painted on his face. "Dad! Didja see me?! Didja see that I scored?!"
Miguel lets out a once-in-a-blue-moon chuckle and lifts his daughter into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck in an affirming hug. "I saw very clearly, mi cariño, and I can't wait to brag about how my daughter scored the winning shot for her team," he compliments warmly.
Gabriella goes to point gleefully in your direction. "It was all because of Miss. (Y/N)," she declares, not knowing that her statement would make a rush of heat bloom onto your face.
"O-oh no... I only... w-well," you stammer out meekly, trying to find the right words. "I'm actually not too knowledgeable on soccer... I only repeated what I found online and—"
"Thank you," Miguel starts off fondly. "(Y/N), truly. Thank you."
You stare at him. "Mr. O'Hara..."
He sets Gabriella down for her to join her rejoicing teammate and pats the small of your back with a grateful look plastered on his face. You were so used to seeing the rather stoic and often tired side of Miguel O'Hara that you forgot he, too, was capable of smiling at times, so when you spotted the small of a grin on his lips that was for you specifically, you felt something in your chest jerk a little bit.
"If it weren't for you being here," he starts off quietly so only you can hear. "Gabi wouldn't have participated at all. She wanted you to come so she'd have enough courage to play because she was so used to you supporting her," Miguel glances at his daughter giggling about on the field. "So it was understandable that if her biggest supporter wasn't here to cheer her on, she wouldn't exactly do her best."
You blink slowly at him, digesting his words in order to truly savor them for all that they were. "I was just—"
"—doing your job?" Miguel finishes for you. He shakes his head. "Last time I remember, 'attending your boss's daughter's soccer games' wasn't on your job description," he says, earning a soft chuckle out of you despite his rather flat tone.
"I suppose so," you murmur with an evident warmth in your eyes, one that Miguel is sure Gabriella has seen numerous times and will continue to welcome as long as you're around.
So when after a dinner celebration at her favorite restaurant, after the star player is tucked into bed after a long day's work, Miguel takes it upon himself to do the what he thought was the impossible for him but possible for Gabriella.
"Stay safe out there," Miguel directs quietly as he helps you put on your coat again. "And again, thank you for today."
"It was my pleasure, Mr. O'Hara," you reply, "And I actually had fun today, so I can thank you for that."
He escorts you down the apartment complex to the lobby and begins to watch you leave, the words on his tongue tipping ever so slowly before they spill the moment you're about to exit through the doors.
"(Y/N)."
At the sound of your voice, you turn to him with a questioning look on your face. "... yes?"
Miguel opens and closes his mouth like a fish for a couple of seconds before blurting out, "Are you free tomorrow evening?"
He scans your face for a reaction before surprise paints itself on your moonlit features. "I-I suppose I am," you nod slowly. "May I ask why?"
"Gabi is having a sleepover at one of her teammate's house," Miguel coughs out and shoves his hands into his pockets to hide their fidgeting.
"Do you need me to drop her off...?" you ask, clearly puzzled.
"No, um," he clears his throat again. "I was... I was actually wondering if you'd... if you'd like to check out that new restaurant that opened up on Clark..."
Regret pools in his mouth the second it falls from his lips and he begins to internally conjure some sort of half-assed lie, perhaps saying something along the lines of the company wanted him to review it for a potential cater in the future or that a friend of his worked there, but when he sights your eyes softening with the same warmth from earlier, he lets you take the reigns on fate.
"I'd quite like that," you murmur, a modest smile on your lips.
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a/n ; i told you i was going to give into temptation. wrote this on a plane with no wifi on the way here (thank god for offline editing!)
anyways, i'm trying to squeeze this bit out before my plane ride tmrw since i've been travelling for the past week and a half! i'll be returning home soon where i can finally write to my heart's content, phew! i just reallyyyyy wanted to write something for miguel adjdjfkfalwf but fear not! we shall be back to our regularly scheduled program soon!
as always, thank you for reading and likes+comments+reblogs are always appreciated and never unnoticed(╹◡╹)♡!
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ichorai · 11 months
Text
snow spider ; miguel o'hara.
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pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.
words ; 4.4k
themes ; fluff, slight angst
warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)
a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!
main masterlist.
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You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly. 
When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow. 
“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.
Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.
“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”
A beat of silence. 
“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard. 
You took a step back. “My universe…?”
After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”
You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”
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It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best. 
But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.
It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.
Right?
“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him. 
The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto. 
Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you. 
“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!” 
Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.
“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”
Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air. 
Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view. 
“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless. 
Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.
Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples. 
Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense. 
Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.
Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”
A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit. 
“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”
“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.” 
“But you’re hurt.”
“I’ll heal.”
With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.
“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”
You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained. 
“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.” 
There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.
You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”
Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.
If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.
“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”
The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.
“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.
“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”
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“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression. 
“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”
You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!” 
His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”
“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”
With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out. 
“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”
Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”
Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.
Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”
To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.
“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence. 
You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”
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The months pass by in a blur. 
You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him. 
“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier. 
“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”
You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.
“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”
With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”
The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal. 
Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.
As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip. 
“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.
Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”
Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.
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Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.
But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.
Then there was you.
It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.
Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—
To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.
It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face. 
“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”
“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”
“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”
Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”
Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps. 
You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.
“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.” 
“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”
You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”
“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!” 
You blinked.
“What?”
Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.
“What?” he parroted.
“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”
“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?” 
Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”
You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.
Miguel was crazy about you?
After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).
“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”
“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.
He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”
“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”
Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”
There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.
“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited. 
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago. 
You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips. 
With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.
“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”
A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.
The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?” 
Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.
Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.
You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him. 
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite. 
“Oka—mmph!” 
His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper. 
When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.
“He was right,” said Miguel.
“Who was?”
“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”
You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”
At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”
You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”
His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you. 
When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.
He was falling in love with you. 
The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.
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