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intoxicated-chan · 11 months

Note

angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader

and then they make up yayayayay

Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.

“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”

He nods.

“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

He nods again.

“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”

“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”

“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.

“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”

He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…

“But Mig-”

“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”

He didn’t mean it like that.

“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.

“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.

You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.

You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.

The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.

How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?

This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.

And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.

You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.

You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.

“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.

“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.

“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.

“Yeah.” You huff.

“And… how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.

You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”

“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”

Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?

“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”

“Talk about romantic.”

“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”

“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”

“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.

“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”

“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.

“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”

“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.

You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”

“Bed.”

“(Y/n)-”

“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”

“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.

“You heard me.”

“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.

“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”

“(Y/n)-”

“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”

“I know.”

“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”

You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.

“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”

He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.

“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”

“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.

“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”

“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.

“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”

You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.

#x reader #x female reader #fluff #angst #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spider man x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x y/n #spider man across the spider verse #spider man 2099 #spiderverse #spider man x y/n #spider man x you #spiderman x reader

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sillyblues · 10 months

Text

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: miguel tells you how annoying you are

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: last and second part of annoying is here!! thank you so much for the huge support yall broke my app my notifications weren’t loading properly lmao THANK YOU! this was supposed to be just a short one but here we are with a part two and a bit bigger word count m’gonna need rest and need more time for the preggo fic

part 1

Wordlessly, you left the team. You returned to your own Earth and did your own thing again. There was a slight tinge of unfamiliarity, knowing that you might never work with other spider people, your friends, again, but you forced the feeling down.

Miguel’s outburst haunted you wherever you went. Even as you fought villains that disturbed the peacefulness of your home, even as you mingled with the other civilians and hung out with your friends, even as you laid down in the comfort of your bed, his words would constantly echo through your head, and they would threaten the fall of your tears every single time.

If Miguel thought you were annoying, what about your other friends? Do they think you were bothersome as well? Maybe, you bitterly thought as you brought your knees to your face. Maybe the civilians don’t like you as well. The thought of the people you treasure and care for so dearly, the people whom you devoted most of your life to save, the people whom you risk getting hurt every day for, hating you, left you breathless.

More tears fell, and you gasped. The ache in your heart was too much to bear and seemed to sting your entire being. You clutched your chest as you laid sideways on your bed, pillows and blanket long scattered on the floor. You tried to muffle your cries, but it was useless, as they still vibrated through the room of your apartment.

Oh, god. Please don’t hate me. Don’t hate me, please. Don’thatemepleasedon’thatemeplease—

“[Name]?” the familiar voice momentarily halted you in your weeping. You slowly rose a bit, supporting yourself on your arm and looked towards the source of it. Peter’s worried look greeted you as he crawled himself out of your window.

“Oh, [Name].” you wavered at his heartbroken voice. He immediately rushed in to hug you. He sat on your bed beside you and embraced you. He rocked you back and forth, one hand on the back of your head that leaned into the crook of his neck, and one hand caressed your back.

“P-Peter, I ca– I can’t,” you hiccupped, and with shaking fingers, you gripped his suit tight. You felt your heart would burst with the way it was beating so fast and hard, ringing in your ears. “I can’t— I can’t breathe.”

“It’s okay, [Name]. I got you. I’m here, okay?” his voice was slightly muffled by the top of your head, but you could still hear him. “I want you to listen to me. Stay with me, yeah?”

You tried your best to respond, but it felt like your body wasn’t listening to you. He pulled back a little and held your face in his hands. You look at his eyes full of undisguised concern overflowing, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hate you too. You gathered what was left of your little strength and nodded weakly.

“Can you tell me three things around your room?” you try to look around as you cling to his arms. You looked away from his eyes and looked around you. Your old lampshade provided you with dim lighting in your dark, cold room. Your messy books were in disarray on the table. You saw a mirror. You saw yourself and how miserable you looked. Your face was wet with tears, and your eyes were red. You also saw how Peter looked at you with such solicitude, and you want to cry all over again.

“Um, lampshade.” You said and winced at the painful scratch in your throat and your hoarse voice. “Books. Mirror.”

“Good job. You did well. Can you move three body parts for me?” you unclasped your hands from his arms and tried to clench and unclench them. You wiggled your head out of his hold, embarrassment starting to creep onto you being seen so sticky and so wet and such a mess. It was fortunate that he understood and he chuckled. You were silent for a moment, and you didn't know what else to move so you settled on headbutting Peter.

“Ow! Of all things, really? Can't believe this is what I get,” he grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. You giggled at his exaggerated expression and unknowingly to you, your tears had stopped flowing, and only hiccups remained.

“Are you feeling better, [Name]? You can talk to me, my shoulder is vacant for you. Or do you want me to just stay quiet? Because yeah, I can do either. Just tell me what to do,” you chuckled even more at that. “I’ll even give you a pass for laughing at me.”

Seeing Peter comfort you like that, there was a sense of relief wash over you. It was obvious he was being genuine with you and if he wasn't, he most likely wouldn't even have the patience to sit with you and let you cry on him.

“It's nothing, um, it's just that,” you sighed as you weakly played with your fingers. The words are lodged in your throat, and you slowly breathe out. He looked at you with encouragement to take it slow, to breathe and you did. “I found out people at the headquarters think I talk too much and they didn’t really like me. Then I made Miguel mad, and I learned how I was annoying him. He probably hates me. And, uh, it got me thinking, what if you and Jess and Hobie think the same way? What if everyone thinks the same way?”

There was an urge to cry again, but it felt like you had cried it all out. There was none left for you to cry anymore.

“Wow, I knew Miguel was all bite and no bark, but I didn’t expect he’d bite that deep. What the hell is wrong with him?” the genuine disbelief made you sputter and chuckle.

“First of all, whoever doesn’t like you is automatically wrong. I mean, who could not like you? You literally make everyone’s day. Jess loves gushing with you about her husband, and Hobie loves talking about how his punk stuff and fighting the literal government which I think it’s really pretty cool of him don’t tell him that he’s going to tell me I should do it as well and I just can’t,” he said. “And I love talking to you because you’re funny and so positive you just know how to make me cheer up. Besides, I’m talking too much now, aren’t I? Always have been. But did you think I was annoying?”

“No! I never once thought you were one.” You replied without a beat.

“Exactly. Us either. Look, [Name], everyone loves you. Trust me when I say that.” He said with confidence and finality that you had no choice but to believe him,

“But, Miguel..”

“He's stupid. I know. Don’t mind what he said because it’s all bullshit anyways.” He grins. “Lyla told me what happened. I’m not taking his side because what he said is just wrong and I get you, you know? Having to hear all of that hurts. But from the bottom of my heart, I think Miguel did not mean what he said. Like, all the pent-up stress got to his head and boom, it suddenly burst out. I’m not saying that it was a valid reason, no. I just wanted to let you know that he doesn’t truly think you’re annoying, you know?”

“Besides, from all the time I knew him, I had never seen him genuinely enjoy his time with someone nor mope so bad when you didn’t come to the headquarters anymore.” He said with a deadpan expression at the end.

“Pfft, really?”

“Yes, really.”

There was a pause, it wasn’t awkward but it made you appreciate him more for coming here for you. He smiled at you and you did too, leaning on his shoulder for support. He hugged you sideways, one arm rubbing the side of your arm and you closed your eyes.

“I missed you, [Name]. We all did.”

“...I missed you all too.”

The decision to come back to the headquarters was a bit hard but you took it slow with Peter’s support. He never rushed you nor forced you to come back which you really appreciated and when you did return, you were sure you didn’t regret it. Jess and Hobie immediately latched onto you, they hugged you tight and told you how much they missed you so bad. They asked you how had you been, if you were alright, if were you hurt, and all that. Seeing their sincere worry for you, you smiled hard enough to hurt your cheeks and slowly you were going back to the old, happy you.

What changed right now was that you avoided Miguel. When you first returned to the headquarters, Miguel was there a bit far away from you. You could feel his earnest gaze at you and you looked at him briefly. The bags underneath his eyes seemed to be bigger and you wonder if he had gotten a bit bigger too. A reminder of his words rang instantly through your head and you breathed deeply silently. You quickly looked away as soon as you laid your eyes on him and that remained true for a couple of weeks.

During the briefing of your missions, he would look at you expectantly as if you would stand beside him like you always did. But you usually stood nearby Hobie who was at the entrance of his office. Sometimes you stood beside Jess and Peter which was a bit near him but not quite so.

“You’re not gonna be near him?” Hobie once asked as he lay down on a flat surface. He nudged his head in Miguel’s direction who was looking at you a couple of times as he talked about the mission details. You smiled bitterly.

“Aight, guess I got more time to catch up with you, huh?” the tip of his lips lifted up, “Wanna leg it and come join the protest in my home?”

“Oh no.” you silently snorted.

“What? It’s fun and we’re doing the right thing, you know.”

“Hobie, are you listening?” Miguel’s voice interrupted you both. You look away, not yet keen on looking at him.

“Yes, big boss. Ears open for you, don’t worry about me,” he stretched his arms before he folded them to lay his head on his clasped fingers. You wondered why he hadn’t called you when you weren’t really listening to him as well. Maybe he targeted Hobie on purpose to make you feel uncomfortable? You bit your lip. No, that can’t be. Peter said Miguel didn’t hate you and you trusted him so despite the voices haunting voices once more, you decided to believe in him.

Sometimes, you two would meet outside the building on his favourite Mexican stand outside the building. Maybe it was a habit formed over the time you knew him that you would buy him his empanadas. Now that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him just yet, you bought some for yourself. You could not deny that you missed buying his food, only to eat half of it yourself.

“Ah, it’s [Name]! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Mrs. Flores exclaimed as soon as she saw your walking figure towards her. You two have gotten close a bit back then and has since then insisted you to call her ‘Abuela’. “Have you lost weight? You’ve gotten smaller since I last saw you!”

You didn’t think you did but before you could deny she was immediately cooking some empanadas, “Just wait, I’ll cook some for you, okay? No need to pay.”

“Abuela, thank you, but I can’t accept this without payment. Please, let me pay,” you opened your wallet and took some money but she wasn’t having it.

“No! I told you I don’t need any money! Do I look like I need some, huh? Don’t make me angry,” she threateningly pointed her clamps at you. You just sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness was stronger than any villain you had fought. Suddenly, a figure crept behind you and you paid it no mind, figuring it was some other customer but the voice surprised you.

“Buenas tardes, Señora. Lo de siempre por favor.” You looked at Miguel in reflex. He wore a plain white shirt and trousers and oh, he was so close to you. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but hesitation dripped from him so you took the opportunity to look away and stepped to your side to create some distance between you.

“Oh, ¿es tú novio, [Name]? ¡Lo sabía! Why didn’t you say so? He’s been the one buying empanadas instead when you were gone.” You choked on your own saliva and embarrassment immediately crept up your cheeks. You coughed it out as she side-eyed you. Miguel was silent and you wonder if he wasn’t going to clear this misunderstanding up.

“You had a fight, didn’t you?”

“No, Abuela, he’s not my boyfriend—”

“He isn’t? ¡Qué hombre más estúpido! Are your eyes not properly working? What are you still waiting for?” she snorted at him. The bubbling noises from the oil fill the silence as you didn’t really know how to respond in this situation.

“Well whatever, you will fix it, won’t you?” she glared at him. In that moment, you felt loved once more and you were starting to truly believe that those who said you were annoying were wrong. You bit your lip. You did not deny to yourself that you were expecting to hear his answer.

“I will.” He replied with such determination and resolution as he looked at you. Your heart throbbed, you saw how much he wanted to fix things right with you and you didn’t know how to feel. Glad? Happy? But you also felt upset at yourself because you almost wanted to smile just because of that and it felt like you were too easy in forgiving him even though he hurt you so much. You quickly dismissed the confusing feelings down and when Abuela gave you the empanadas, you hurriedly slipped some bills while you took the food and almost ran off.

But everything would have to come to an end, including this avoidance of yours of him. You sorted out your thoughts, and your feelings, each day as you avoided him like a plague after numerous encounters because you feared that if you saw him one more time, you would burst out and say things that you didn’t mean like he did.

On the day that you decided to finally stop everything and just talk to him, you were beaten to it by Miguel. You were looking through the windows in the building and stared at the beautiful blue skies and the white clouds that decorated it. The flying cars and the mega train running vertically were like the birds and the beam of sunlight back in your home and you were reminded of the differences you and Miguel had.

“[Name],” his voice was so soft, so unlike the tone he had the day he yelled at you. You admit you had gotten comfortable with the pain you felt since that day that you still wanted to evade his gazes and attempts to reach out to you. But the rational part of you, the one that grew from the pain, knew you had to meet his eyes this time. To let him reach you this time. And so you did. You looked at him, you looked at his eyes that were looking at you so desperately, so hesitatingly.

“Can we talk, please? Just the two of us,” he said but to you, it felt like he pleaded with the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw was clenched, awaiting your words that seemed like it would decide his fate.

“Okay,” you breathed out and he did too. The crease on his forehead slowly thinned out and his shoulders moved back. You knew that if someone different saw Miguel like this, they would think he was normal and that he wasn’t acting differently. But you knew better. Despite the tough shell he portrayed, there was a man vulnerable just like you. You just had a soft shell.

You two went to his office and the door closed behind you two. He asked Lyla to not let anyone enter for at least a while so nobody would disturb you both. She saw you and waved brightly at you. She then nodded and finally disappeared.

“Before you say anything, can you honestly answer this one question I have? Just one, please,” you asked him, nerves started to creep onto you and you wanted to look away so bad but you have to search for the truth in his eyes. You have to know his answer to your question.

“Sure, yes. I’ll be honest, I swear.” He promised you.

“Did you ever really think I was annoying? That all I do was nothing but cause trouble for you?”

“Never.”

“Liar.” You were disappointed. You were not as stupid and oblivious as others thought of you. There was a part of yourself that knew that you were bothering them. That you were bothering him. But you couldn’t help it. You cared for him and if talking too much, if bothering him would make him distracted from the grief and the pain he had from Gabriella then you would gladly do it.

“No, I wasn’t lying, [Name]—” you looked away. He couldn’t even be honest with you. Were you that unworthy of honesty? That was all you had asked. You clenched your fist and let your nails dig into your palm. “Listen to me, please.”

You start to walk away.

“[Name], por favor,”

You were nearing the exit.

“I— fuck it, yes! I didn’t like you because you were so annoying. I hated you.” You immediately looked back at him. Disbelief was obvious in your face and tears fell from your eyes. You felt a sense of betrayal at this. If he hated me so much, then why did he let me so close to him? Were you just a show to him? Were you entertaining? He was approaching you and strength had left your legs from the shock at what he said but you remained still.

“I hated the way you talked so much I felt like I was losing a part of myself because I wanted to know more about you and listen to you talk. I hated the way you know so much about me. I felt like you could see through me and I was so scared that you would hate me if you knew what I truly am. I hated the way you cared for me like no other because I cared for you too and I was so terrified to lose you too. I hated the way you’re so reckless, you don’t care if you get hurt as long as it’s for others.” He stopped in front of you and tears were also coming out from his eyes. “I hated the way you captured my whole attention whenever you’re there by my side because I can’t look at anything else anymore. I can’t work properly anymore. I can’t think properly anymore and– and I, oh fuck.”

What?

“You’re so annoying because you distract me so much. I hated you because I fell for you and you’re all I could think about and I just don’t know anymore,” he shakily breathed out. His figure was so big but at this moment, you felt like he was so small. His tears ran continuously like a furious stream and you were sure yours were too.

“When you left, it didn’t feel right anymore. I missed you talking to me. I missed you eating my food. I missed you annoying me. I missed you so much it hurts.” His voice turned hoarse and you finally moved. You caressed your hand on his cheeks and he leaned his face against your touch. “Lo siento, [Name]. I really am. Es la verdad, por favor créeme. Por favor…”

“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried out as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. But you couldn’t really blame him. Because he was the same as you. Despite his flying cars and vertical running train and your birds and beam of sunlight, there was still the same blue sky and white clouds. Despite his tough shell and your soft one, you two were just as vulnerable as the other.

“I’m sorry, don’t hate me please…” he croaked out and gripped onto your suit tight. You leaned back a bit to hold his face in your palms. His face was wet, his hair was a mess, and he looked so haggard. You lean your forehead against his.

“I don’t, I promise. I could never hate you and I hate you for it as well,” you giggled amidst your tears.

Really, he was such a stupid man and you were so annoying.

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#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐#spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv angst

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ichorai · 11 months

Text

snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

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.

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.”

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.”

“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.”

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.

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.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfic #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara #spider-man 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv fanfiction

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kestisvrse · 2 months

Text

you don’t know me

pairing ⋆ spidey!luke castellan x gn!reader au. fluff with a bit of angst. friends to lovers.

synopsis ⋆ spider-man appears at your window for help, and accidentally reveals his identity.

warnings ⋆ blood descriptions, stitching, swearing, stranger danger tbh, bit dramatic(?), kinda rushed i apologize | wc: 2.5k

a/n ⋆ i hate the ending of this so feel free to not read it😭😭

♫ - jackie and wilson by hozier

1:33am

it was hard trying to stay awake at this time, sound of the rain against your window and the soft snores of your roommates made it was easy to focus on closing your tired eyes instead of looking over all the notes scattered on your desk, it seemed nothing could stop you from drifting off to the peaceful place despite the thought of your sore neck in the morning from being slouched over your desk, but three taps against your window made your eyes shoot open.

he regretted it immediately, as he watched your head rise from the desk, but what else could he do? he gripped his side as he watched you mumble to yourself at the sight of spider-man on your fire escape, but you quickly opened the window.

“what the fuck?” you whisper at the sight, the heavy rain began to cover your window sill and floor but you didn’t even notice.

“hi, um i know this must seem very odd..” the superhero in front of you trailed off as you let him in, “shit, i’m bleeding on your carpet.”

“what- oh shit!” you gasp, noticing the giant gash he gripped on his torso, without a second thought you grabbed his hand and dragged him into your private bathroom, pushing him to sit on the toilet as you rummaged in your cupboards, as you pulled out a first-aid kit, you rummaged for supplies, “can i ask why the hell spider-man is bleeding in my bathroom right now?”

“i- i lost a lot of blood, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to my place in time.” he lied, “not to sound creepy but i saw your light on and.. and i needed help.”

“can you take the top half of your suit off?” you ask, washing your hands, as if you hadn’t even acknowledged what he had said. he nods, unzipping the back and removing his arms from the sleeves, letting the suit rest at his waist, his mask still hiding his identity, “this will hurt.” you warn, even though he had definitely experienced worse than a wound being wiped down.

but still he winced, clenching his jaw, as you realized it wasn’t just a cut, he had been stabbed.

“thank god you stumbled across a med-students dorm.” you mumble to yourself, trying to lighten the mood as you get ready to stitch his side together, as he went to laugh at your comment he was interrupted by a groan of pain emitting from his throat.

“i know it hurts, but try to be quiet. if you wake clarisse, my roommate up, she will not make this situation any better.” you say, luke holds back a laugh knowing it was definitely true, he bites down on his lower lip as you stitch him up. luckily it was a shallow cut,.

you worked in silence, occasionally broken up by strewn out swears and winces from the superhero, biting your lip in concentration. as you tied together the final stitch you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“okay, the hard part is done.” you informed him, wiping down any excess blood that stained his skin.

“thanks.” he mutters weakly, moving to adjust his posture but immediately freezing as pain shoots up his body.

“stay still.” you say, “i still have to bandage it.” pulling out medical tape and gauze out of your medical bag, he felt as your hands occasionally slipped off the white bandage and touched his stomach. the pain almost subsided as the feeling of your fingertips burned into him. wrapping the bandage around his torso and taping it down you lean back on your knees, letting out a sigh.

he focuses on you as you stand, washing blood off your hands in the sink before cleaning up your supplies, you glance at him catching him staring, as he pretends to admire your bathroom as if he hadn’t been in here before.

“um-“ he clears his throat, “sorry for bleeding on your floor.” he mentioned, guilt evident in his voice.

“s’okay, i didn't like that carpet much anyways.” you say, which was a lie. luke remembered vividly how happy you were to get what you called, ‘the best rug ever’ for your room, his brows furrow.

you lean back against the bathtub, letting out a sigh, he goes to move but you nudge him with your foot, “don’t go just yet, won’t be good to swing on new stitches.” you explained to him, as he leaned back against the back of the toilet.

his breathing was sharp and inconsistent as his stomach stung in pain, his eyes squeezed shut, “the only thing i have for pain is like advil and tylenol. i don’t know if that helps with stab wounds though.” you spoke up, he shakes his head in response.

“i’ll be fine, just- just need to catch my breath.” to which you nodded in response.

“can i get you water?” you suggest, quickly standing as a ‘please’ is heard from under the mask, him suddenly noticing the scratchy and dry feeling of his throat. you rush out the room, tiptoeing into the kitchen to grab water for the superhero, as you return and hand it to him, you spin around so he can remove his mask.

his face was red as he watched you carefully, slipping his mask above his nose to gulp down the glass. scared you’d spin around to discover it was your friend bleeding out in the bathroom.

but you didn’t, as he pulled the mask back down and placed the cup on the counter, is when you turned and returned to your spot on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest.

he begins to shuffle uncomfortably on the toilet, breathing harder as his back slouched and his body tensed. the bandages felt tight on him, as he resisted the urge to rip them off, he was quickly distracted as you kneeled in front of him, placing your hand on his exposed wrist.

tingles shot up his body at the feeling of your skin against his again, it felt so odd, knowing he had hugged and brushed past you so many times but this was different, every touch had him blushing as butterflies flew around his stomach, he didn’t know you felt the same way, but with luke, not spider-man.

“control your breathing, your pulse is out of control.” you breathe, your pointer and middle finger pressed against his wrist feeling his pulse.

he began to focus on your breathing, watching as your chest rose and fell while you seemingly seemed focused on the wall of the bathroom. he quickly matched his breathing with yours, sitting up straight as your hand pulled away from him.

“thank you, for helping me.” he stammered, suddenly self conscious of his voice, how hadn’t you recognized it?

“i mean, what else was i supposed to do? there was a superhero at my window sill.” you scoff in disbelief, “it’s fine, i mean, it’s the least i can do for you keeping me- uh new york, safe.” you clear your throat, staring at your hands that rest atop your knees. “can i ask you something?”

his throat dries, “yeah?”

“i mean- obviously don’t answer if it’s too personal or gives away your identity, but.” you tilt my head, “do you like… live a normal life during the day? or are you always spider-man?” you ask cautiously.

he pauses to think about his answer, narrowing his eyes at you, “oh yeah, i-i do have a normal life during the day.” he confesses, the hand that grasped his stomach moves to scratch the back of his neck.

“cool.” you reply, stopping yourself from question him farther.

“you aren’t asking any questions,” he stated quietly, almost in disbelief. as he spoke, he shifted his attention to your face. “i was expecting some like freaked out reactions. but you’re... you’re really chill about this.”

“you have a secret identity for a reason, i wouldn’t want to ruin that for you. you keep the city safe, and that’s all i need to know.” you shrug in response, staring at the white eyes of his mask.

“i mean it’s so crazy.” you say randomly, causing his head to tilt in confusion, “i’ve thought about it before you know, imagine one of my friends was a masked superhero.” he tenses, knowing that in fact it was true, “like my friend luke, he’s always disappearing at random moments.” his eyes widen but you don’t notice because of the mask, chuckling to yourself at the thought.

“yeah, imagine that.” he murmurs in response, suddenly very sweaty in stress.

“how’re you feeling?” you turn your attention back to him.

“still hurts a lot, but i should go now.” he explains, his hand on the counter to steady himself as he stands, “again, thank you so much.”

you walk to the window, opening it and helping him climb out onto the fire escape, “again” you repeat him, “it’s the least i could do.”

4:56pm

you yawn as you open the door revealing luke castellan, bag swung over his shoulder and hair messy from the wind, he gave you a lopsided smile, “ready to study?”

you shake your head as he enters your apartment, “i was studying all night, barely got sleep.” you respond, leading him to your room.

he just nods his head at you in response, cheeks growing hot, sure you were studying, before his alter ego stumbled through your window.

as he walked into your room, he immediately took notice of the spot of your carpet that had been rolled over, to cover the evidence of the blood stain. his stare lingered there, before quickly collecting himself to sit on your bed.

“i made these flashcards for you last night.” you break the silence, holding up pastel green cards, “ready to be tested, castellan?” you tease, plopping onto the bed and leaning against the headboard as he takes his jacket off.

“oh bless you for those.” he praised, comfortably laying down at the end of your feet.

“just admit i’m your favourite person.” you giggle, he rolls his eyes before encouraging you to begin.

thirty minutes past as you tested him, reaching the end before you would swap over, “alright” you clear your throat, “next- luke?” your gaze drifts up from the card.

“yeah?” he asked, waiting for you to continue.

“you’re bleeding.” you point at his shirt, he looks down to find his blue t-shirt slowly bleed red, dripping down his side. immediately, he reacted by pressing down as hard as he could against the wound, a small whimper escaping his lips in the process.

“what-“ you cut yourself off, to look up into his eyes, eyes widening in the process “no fucking way.”

he tore his attention away from his wound, blood seeping into your bed sheets, “i-“ in a flash you’re up from the bed, cards spilling onto the floor as you yank him up causing him to yelp. he sits down on the toilet as you rummage for the first aid kit, again.

“take off your shirt.” you demanded, and despite the surprise this brought him, he didn’t resist. he removed his shirt almost immediately, revealing the bloody coated bandages.

you stared at his chest, the fact that it was the exact same as spider-mans made you wanna scream, but you held back, removing the bandages and staying quiet to patch him up, too scared to speak.

luke stayed silent, staring at you with sad eyes, praying you would forgive him. he winced every so often at the sting of you restitching some stitches that came loose, and rewrapping his stomach with fresh gauze.

your lips pursed together as you washed your hands, refilling the same cup from last night with water and placing it beside him before walking off into your room. luke quickly tugs hair shirt back on, ignoring the blood stain and the pain that shot up his body at the sudden movement, before going to stand in front of you in your room, “i’m sorry.” he whispers.

“you could have died, and it would have been my fault.” you remarked, “can you imagine? spider-man dies in my bathroom and i take his mask off to reveal my best fucking friend.” you scoffed, tears covering your waterline.

his expression softened, as he nudged your foot with his, “but i didn’t.”

“but you could have!” you yell, shooting up to stand in front of him, “jesus luke, this is what you’ve been doing all year? this is why you disappear all the time?” he stares at his shoes as you rub your forehead.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, a sad expression covering his face, as he blinked rapidly, “i’m sorry for putting you through that. i didn’t mean to worry you.”

“you-you’re spider-man.” you gasp out, in disbelief. your hand clutches your chest as tears roll out onto your cheeks. his hand brushes your bicep as you flinch.

“yeah… yeah i am.” he sighs, guiding you to sit back down on your bed, “i wish i hadn’t come here last night but- i wouldn’t have been able to stitch that up myself.” he sighed as you sobbed into your hands.

“you could have died.” you choke out, repeating yourself before falling into his side, almost on instinct he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back comfortingly. he knew you wouldn’t respond well if he had ever told you, but he hadn’t thought about how you would feel to him almost dying in your bathroom.

“i’m okay. i promise.” he breathed into your hair, but you just shook your head in response, unable to respond as you tried to catch your breath.

“i don’t care if i am fast asleep, if this ever happens again, you come to me luke, i stitch you up.” you begged, looking up to him teary eyed.

his gaze softens looking at you but nodded in response, “okay, i promise.” his hand hovers over you neck, “i didn’t want to put you in danger or worry you. i would have told you. i was also scared you wouldn’t… wouldn’t look at me the same” he whispered.

“you’re still luke castellan, i still will like you no matter what, you just… you scared the shit out of me.” you sputtered out, not thinking about what you were saying to the boy in front of you, his body tensed.

“like me?” he asks, brows furrowed to see if you meant as friends or.. as more. he got his answer as he watched your eyes widen slightly and you began to stutter, “you… you like me?”

“what- no i meant-“ you shake your head so hard he thought it might spin off, and so he took his chance. the hand that hovered over your neck held your face still as he connected his lips with yours.

you found yourself unable to kiss back in shock, he heats up in embarrassment as he began to pull away, which brought you to your senses as you pulled him back down to press a soft kiss against his lips.

he pulled away for air, leaning your foreheads against each other.

“i can’t believe i accused you of being a secret superhero, while infront of you last night.” you mumbled, as he just laughed in response and shook his head.

“i promise to be more safe, just for you.” he said, leaning in to peck your lips.

#sienna’s fics #luke castellan x you #luke castellan au #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo au #pjo x reader #spiderman #spiderman au #luke castellan as spider-man #percy jackson #percy jackson au #fluff #angst with a happy ending

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cupcakeinat0r · 3 months

Text

Thinkin abt Dad Bod!Miguel…

Ft. Daddy, Praise, n Size kink!!! (Duh.)

[NSFW]

You leave the classroom after enduring the most stupid 3 hour 8am lecture that you needed for a stupid credit for the stupid degree that you cried and prayed for.

Your spirit is immediately lifted once you see your boyfie waiting outside of the building for you, the six-foot-nine man leaning against his car like a total poser. His burly arms are crossed, which makes his pecs bulge through his shirt even more. In your opinion, he fills out his button-up perfectly; the short sleeves barely able to contain his biceps, the hairs of his chest peeking out the first three open buttons… and his soft belly. Perfect for naps. You couldn’t see it from here, but you just knew his ass was lookin good in those jeans, too. You crash into his arms, kisses planted on your head. “Missed you today, mamita.” He mumbles into your hair. “Missed you more, baby. Now, please, take me home.”

You step in the house and face plant onto the couch. You could’ve fallen asleep right there, but you feel a breath on your ear, “Mamita, aye…”, you lift your head with a “hm?” toward the gentle voice, “Mama, ven a la cama… será mejor que’l sofá, beba… ven, ven…” you let out a small ‘Mph’ when you’re peeled off the couch. Miguel scoops you up bridle style, as if you were a feather, and takes you to the bedroom.

Once you sluggishly remove your clothes, down to your panties and tank top, you, again, face plant into what feels like heaven (your bed). Miguel goes to change so that he’s just wearing his boxers. He stops in front of the full-body mirror, looking at himself. His muscles are still there, but he isn’t too happy with what he sees, having gained some weight since being with you, but more importantly, he wonders if you think the same. Even a little bit.

You smile to yourself as you feel the stomach of your lover pressed against your back, wrapping you with his strong, hairy arms and entangling his thick legs with yours, cocooning you in a bundle of warmth. “Comfy, mamita?” He presses a tender kiss on your temple. You sleepily nod your head against the pillow, blissful in your position as little spoon. There’s a moment of peaceful silence as his calloused hand starts to affectionately rub your back under the tank top.

The thought still eats at him, though.

“Bebe…”

“hm?”

“Esta feliz conmigo?”

“What?” Your head snaps up toward him. There’s genuine concern in your voice.

“I love you, that’s no question, but if you want to have your college fun, you should be able to. I don't want you to miss out on experiences because of… me. ” You sit up now, looking at him with furrowed brows, “What’re you talking about?” He looks down at the bare skin of your thigh, a deep, discouraged sigh escaping his lips as his pointer finger caresses the skin there, “I just want you to be happy. More than anything.”

In one swift motion, you straddle him. “Missing what? Those dumb frat parties filled with little boys who wouldn’t know how to handle me? You’re so silly, baby.” You press a tongue-filled kiss on his lips, and a low growl erupts in his throat. “Ugh, I’d miss out on a million parties if it meant having all this.” You murmur against his lips before starting a trail of kisses down his torso, even with an occasional nibble, the warmth and hair of his skin meeting your lips the whole way down. You worshipped every inch of his thick body with your lips, all the way from his broad and hairy chest, his stretch marks, to his chubby midriff, down his mouth-watering happy trail, and finally to the hem of his boxers, where a bulge began to form.

You look up and give him a sultry look, “No college boy could ever compare to my fine ass hubby." His voice becomes strained, breath labored as you take your index finger and rub precise circles on his wet tip through his boxers, making him hiss. “fuck, mami… what did I do to deserve you? Eres una Bendicion, tu sabes?”, he caresses your cheek with his thumb, “Scored a fucking goddess… I’m so fuckin’ lucky. No sé cómo conseguí una mujer como tú..” he coos.

"And you’re so big n’ strong n’ handsome, Daddy. I love it.” Your voice combined with your touch made his dick twitch, his now angry tip slightly peeking out. You fail to fight back a small moan when you release his pretty cock from the confines of his boxers, it springing against his lower belly. Drool began to form in your mouth. You haven’t even tasted it and you were already cock drunk. “love this cock s’much…so perfect.” you mewl as you slowly begin pumping his cock. Miguel pathetically looks down at you; The prettiest girl in the world showing him the attention he doesn’t feel worthy of but oh so deserves. “Awe, You want daddy’s cock, don’t you, baby?” He tuts, his voice all sweet and pouty.

“Mhm,” you nod, a meek expression on your face.

“Let me show my man just how happy I am to be his.”

And any self-doubt that Miguel had about you being with him was poof! Gone.

*sighs* He sew cewt. Hope u liked it <3

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

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diejager · 10 months

Note

a Miguel x f!reader "who did this to you?" Angst fic?

Bittersweet Devotion

Pairing : Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Cw: angst, neglect, canon death, dead wife, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.5k

Miguel’s been distant these days, the world around him coming to a stop. His temper shortened and his patience dropped lower than it was before, but his attentiveness to his work sharpened. He divulged more of his time to the cause, to defend the multiverse from every anomaly that kept popping up in wildly different universes, at the cost of his personal life. Ever since the *Miles issue* had been dealt with (Spots was stopped from ending Captain Morales’ life prematurely, the canon was kept safe and intact, but his parents knew of his identity and his duty to New York and the multiverse.), Miguel shut himself inside the main office, closed off from the wandering Spider-people he brought over to help him protect their livelihood.

Atop his platform, he worked tirelessly, swiping screen to screen in search of any escaping anomalies. He depended on Lyla to help him search and the rest of the community to capture and contain these anomalies before they could be sent back to their appropriate universe, closing the rifts they used to escape. The brooding Spider-Man locked himself in, imposing shoulder peering from the edge of his high-floating platform while he stayed there most nights; days even, he hadn’t returned to your shared apartment in the building. He ate when you, Jess or Peter B. brought food to him, he drank and cleaned only when you urged him to do so.

Staying in his den meant that he rarely slept, the dark bags under his beautiful eyes growing as the days passed. Anomalies appeared left and right, Spiders were dispersed to catch them, sometimes in solo missions, and other times in teams if Miguel deemed it necessary for the anomaly (Green Goblins, Vultures and Sandman were some that were harder to deal with for their volatile attacks.). If you weren’t sent away on a retrieval mission, you’d be working around his office, keeping it clean and usable while he moved around, growling and throwing things as he went.

That’s where things became complicated, Miguel hated meddling and you were often in his space. While he was soft and caring in your shared room (the one he hadn’t been in for weeks now), he was domineering and imposing around the others. His shorter temper meant he often hissed and growled at you, brown eyes glimmering red as he sneered your way. You hadn’t made much of it, contributing his issues to the stress and anxiety he felt while shouldering all this madness. His glares and growls meant little, he was under pressure, but his words, his rants in your face hurt.

His words burned you to your core, the degrading things he screamed at you when you did something that might’ve ticked him off or the insults he’d throw your way when you did something he deemed unsatisfactory. They stung, but you ignored the pain that tore into your heart, the tears that threatened to fall and the anger you felt at his shrugs. You simply missed him.

Didn’t you deserve some affection? To feel the tender caresses of Miguel’s hands on your skin, the loving promises of his dreams and wishes, and the adoring stares he sent your way. Were you selfish for wanting that? For wanting to have your lover back in your arms. Or were you feeling neglected from the time you spent alone in your bed, the faded scent of his musk, the coldness of your apartment and the uneaten and forgotten plates on the dining table? Were you at fault for feeling forgotten? To sacrifice one for the good of thousands. To sacrifice your love for the safety of all universes. Did one outweigh the other?

“Hijo de puta! Why can’t you do anything right?!” He’d scowl at you, talons digging into the metal of his desk. The ear-splitting sound echoed as he dragged his talons to the edge of the table, red eyes brimming with wrath. He seemed on a warpath, ripping into anything he could get his talons in and throwing the things he could lift off the platform. (Motherfucker-)

You skipped around the objects he threw in his fit, ducking under a chair he gripped and swung randomly, over the desk he kicked, and around the cabinet, he swiped at. Every object he used to vent his emotions were light, in comparison to your given strength. He’d complain afterwards about his things being broken and needing fixing, something you helped him with unless they were too technologically advanced for your time. You webbed all the things you could, aiming your wrist and quickly sticking your end to the floating platform when it stuck to the victims of Miguel’s power.

You danced around him, catching everything without getting too close to Miguel. He acted without thinking at times in these fury-filled moments, eyes tinging red and reverting to his more animalistic side. He’d warned you before about staying clear of him, to wait until he calmed himself down and realized the devastation of his office. Then he’d apologize and kiss you in hopes you’d forgive him (you always did, you knew his biology made him different - more violent - than you and the Spiders.). You’d fix the platform up, remake the broken parts or simply forget about it, like the many cabinets he ended up buying instead of patching them up.

Now especially, his tantrums began more often and lasted longer, a common occurrence when it was rare months ago. You couldn’t fault him, you didn’t want to, even if your heart throbbed painfully at his words, shoulders curving under the immensity of his tone and actions. You loved him, so you’d bare him in his best as in his worst.

“Detente- Simplemente detente!” In his fits of rage, Miguel reverted to his vulgarity, spitting Spanish words at anyone he faced. His voice was low and gravely, body convulsing as he swung at the fizzling, orange screens, dissipating under his aggressive gesture. (Stop- Just stop!)

When his fuse popped, he’d throw words left and right in Spanish, the enchanting slur of his Mexican accent turning hellish, slamming loudly like the Hephaestus’ hammer. Along his hit came the blow, the effects following them. Whether they were positive or negative, he pushed on, frenziedly hammering the weight of his words into whoever was the nearest to him. Which, coincidentally, happened to be you at the moment when you climbed onto his platform to relay the summarised report of last week’s missions from every Spider.

You let him ramble in silence, watching him twist on the spot and walk circles before his desk, turning and gesturing arbitrarily at something that wasn’t there. He’s expressive with his love, his spite, his care, his needs and his fury. He’d make big motions with his hands, voice dipping low and sometimes rising high with the pitch of his impatience. He growls when he’s displeased. He roars when he’s furious. He spits when he’s agitated. He smirks when he’s pleased. If not his voice or his lips, his eyes shine with emotion, showing those who knew how to read him how he felt.

That’s why you ignored the sharp nabs at your person, the low jabs at your work and how you dealt with the other Spiders as his right hand, or at your simple performance of his care. He didn’t want your care when he was busy, he didn’t want your soft and soothing words when he was tracking down another anomaly with vehement hate, and he didn’t want your meddling when he was focused on important matters of the multiverse.

He was stressed, and pressure mounted over self-expectations made him lose himself. Down went his tolerance for failure and mistakes. Down went his awareness of his needs. Down went his patience with people and Lyla. Every man and woman would buck under intense pressure, some would break and stop working, and others would submit to the fate of their failures, but Miguel persevered, he pushed and pushed, pulling at the strings he could grasp, even the shortest ones.

“Can you just- Coño- can you just shut up for a second?!” Miguel bucked, slamming his fist into the desk. It’d probably leave a dent for you or him to fix, a hole in the shape of his fist.

You rushed to him, hand wrapping around his upper arm, supporting his hunched body as you webbed a chair closer to him, pulling on the synthetic fibre until it was behind Miguel. You whispered encouraging words into his ear, easing him into sitting on the rolling furniture. His legs shook, falling limp when he finally sat down, back slumped over and head low. You ran your fingers through his hairline, pulling up his wild mane. His eyes were closed, bags the deepest you’d seen, and his cheeks were sunken, near sickly.

A chill wracked your body at his deteriorating appearance, his exhaustion had finally caught onto him. You wanted to fuss over him, to berate him for letting it get this far, but his exhausted figure made you frown and rethink your words. You couldn’t let this go on, you’d have to sit him down and talk to him after you took care of him. You lowered the platform, watching Miguel from the corner of your eye until you reached the lowest it could go.

“Miguel,” you hushed, pressing your lips to his cheek, soft and gentle for his fatigue. “We need to get you to our room, you can’t work anymore.”

He grumbled, feet weakly moving to ease the weight on your shoulders, you wanted to remind him that you were strong and that you could easily carry him back if you wanted, but he liked to keep his pride as the strongest, the boss that people could depend on. You nodded at those who gave you worried glances, shaking their helping hands for carrying him (you knew Miguel wouldn’t have liked others to touch him so casually.) and asked some to run errands for you while you two were busy. Lyla would take over for now, until you took care of Miguel.

“Let me help you, Miggy. Let me take care of you.”

He slept better than night, the best sleep he’d gotten in weeks - months - and was grounded to a week of rest and recuperation. You helped him shower, washing his back and hair. You cooked his favourite dishes, following the Mexican cooking books you had laying around. You gave him daily massages for the aches over his shoulders and back, massing the tenseness off his arms and legs. At night, you’d force him to bed, blocking his access to his office and kissing him goodnight. The sun rose with you, you rode Hélio’s chariot, turning his nights into mornings as you pulled Selena’s moon into the sky.

While he rested, you worked tirelessly to fill in Miguel’s seat, scouring the multiverse for anomalies and sending Spiders to deal with them. You had Lyla run diagnostics and simulations about the chance for future appearances, playing the game of prediction and bettering the percentage after each successful prediction. Peter B. and Jess could help you around the clock, they shared the job you had as Miguel’s right-hand and worked fantastically together when put in charge of it. They were still sent on missions if you and Lyla determined it was too difficult to face alone, they were skilled and had experience, and they would mentor those who needed help. If the case came forward, you would step away from the office and jump through the multiverse, aiding your fellow Spiders to capture anomalies while Lyla took care of the office.

Miguel came back healthier, stronger and more energetic. He thanked you in the forms of kisses and hugs, gratified words and gestures that made your heart warm, flutter like wings. It nearly made you forget all the heartache he burdened you with within the past months. Nearly.

Something had ticked Miguel off, his ragged breath simmering in the air, a steady stream of fury. It burned like the lowest pits of hell, ruled by the cold tone of its god, seated at the top-most throne of the Underworld. Powerful and iron-handed, Hades led with strong principles and meticulous habits, much like Miguel did. His fury and anger were dealt by Cerberus, the three-headed dog of hell, as ferocious and dangerous as Miguel’s agitated state was.

His shoulders shook, waves of unadulterated rage filtered off his back, rippling his sculpted back as metal creaked under his hands. His talons sunk into the metal, drawing lines in his anger-filled moment. He spun to face you with a roar, arms flailing until he faced you. He heaved heavily, shoulders and chest moving as his blood rushed with emotions, eyes dilated and turned deep red. He stalked towards you in all his mad glory, like the form of the Cyclops casting its dooming shadow on Odysseus’ men. Except, unlike his men, who were eaten in a blink, embraced by death in such a violent but swift way, you’d be ripped apart by it, pieces of your being torn apart for a slow and painful descent.

He moved in big, lumbering steps, looming over you, shoulders broad and demanding. He sneered at you, in ways that would kill others but wound you deeply, to tear your heart out and throw it away like old, wilted flowers. The air seemed stuffy, hot and confining, his breath even hotter, burning you when he stopped inches from you. You gaped at him, eyes wide and fingers trembling, something crossed your mind, a flash of emotion that you never thought possible to connect to Miguel: fear.

“Why can’t you be like-!” He started, mind dead set on breaking you down to your smallest, his force slamming into your softer one. Then he stopped, body seizing as if he was shot, but his round eyes told you he almost let himself slip, to let the name slip from his tongue in a haze. You knew who he was talking about, the memories that he related to her, that he was simply mad, but it didn’t ease the pain that ripped through your heart.

“Like who, Miguel!?” You cried back, hands clenching and rigid on your side. Your body trembling with disgust, shock and heartbreak. You couldn’t believe he would bring her up, to compare you to her and voice it out. It hurt; it drove the nail deeper into your coffin, adding another thing over the mountain of doubt and pain.

He just stared, he couldn’t finish his sentence, a starch contrast to his attitude seconds ago. It pained you that he couldn’t even say the words, to apologize to you about what he said. He knew how to run, how to ignore, and how to push things back. He did that well, and now he couldn’t face what he said to you was pathetic.

“Like who, huh?! Like her!? Like Dana?!” Your vision blurred, and your breath hitched as your body crashed down with agony, sadness and betrayal. You shook this time while he looked on with desperation, body unable to make a sound or motion.

“I- no- mi cielo, no- I didn’t mean to, I swear, ” he reached out, hand (his talons had received back into his pads) extending to touch you, to hold you in an apologetic embrace, but you stepped back, unable to contain your sobs. “Mi vida, please. Perdón, no fue mi intención.” (I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.)

You backed away from him, his warmth, his adoration, his love. His apology sounded guilty, dripping with regret and sorrow. He winced, watching you step away from him, regret gripping his heart as he moved to follow you. Every step you took backward, he took one forward, copying you, trying to approach you as if you were a wounded and unpredictable animal, to appease and soothe you.

You shook your head, tearing your eyes away from his teary ones. You fiddled with your watch, opening a portal to your world and shook off your watch. You jumped back before he could catch you, hand extended to you in a desperate attempt to stop you. He wanted to bring you back into his arms, to kiss the tears away and beg for forgiveness until you let him back in, but to leave him, to throw away the watch that connected you to him. It broke him.

He wouldn’t be able to see you unless you wanted to be seen, the tracker in your watch left blinking before his feet, discarded as you had with him; after he pushed you away, tore you down with his words spurred by the moment’s rush of negativity and pressure. It wasn’t an excuse, he knew that, but it didn’t ease. He sank to the floor, raking it with his talons as he cried out, a pained sob breaking out of his chest as he cradled his head, cursing himself for not being careful, for not heeding your winces and frowns, and not taking your heart into consideration.

You fell when you landed in your universe, knocking a few boxes as you crashed onto your side. Your body jerked, cold droplets pouring down on your broken figure as you sat back up on the pavement. You hissed, the downcast atmosphere making your body heave a heartbroken sob, clutching your chest - where your heart would’ve been if Miguel hadn’t shattered it - and falling into yourself. You made yourself smaller, hiding your tear-stained face between your knees as you let the rain shower over you, soaking you down to your socks.

A relationship built on pain, need and desperation was bound to fall. The carelessness of his ways cracked the edge of your relationship, slowly breaking it down into a shell of what it was. You bled for his cause as you bled for your loss. Like Apollo - a caregiver, a watcher of the fates of the people he oversaw, all the good and evil he could do just by saying the word - Miguel loved and felt, he gave and took, but lost it all in the end. His heart was broken and his soul lost over and over, the people he loved and cared for lost to time and fate. Like the Greek god, he loved what he could not have, loved what he could not hold, loved what he could not keep.

As would Daphne’s story, she loved as much as you did, she cared as much as you did, and she hated as much as you did. In love was the god, as Miguel was with you, heart-stopping in every aspect. He stood like a god over them all, tall, broad and caring. But like any Greek love story, yours was as tragic, the hymn of your love left to fester with hate and anger, with regret and untold pain. Run, you did as Daphne had, crossing where you hoped he couldn’t reach you; where you’d be left hidden from the heartbreaking sorrow.

You didn’t know how long you sat in the rain, perhaps seconds, perhaps minutes, perhaps hours, but every moment blurred into one. The once vibrant colours of New York dulled to a boring monochrome, the world was swallowed in tones of black and white. Your limbs felt numb, you could hardly feel the cold, only the drops of rain and the heaviness of your heart in your chest. You could sit here a while longer, to drown in the sensation of the world falling around you-

Then it stopped raining. That wasn’t right, you could see the water crashing onto the ground by your feet, inches from you. Your side felt warm, a calm, soothing warmth that made your body quake from the cool air. You looked to the side and saw feet, big ones. You followed their body, tracing the lines of their soaking pants, to a warm jacket, broad shoulders and to a familiar face.

“Oye, who did this to you?” His voice dripped with worry, a calmness that contradicted his frowning eyes. It was a familiar voice. It was a familiar face. It was Miguel’s face. Your lips quivered, staring at the face of your lover - ex-lover now that you thought about it - with newly shed tears. His eyes widened, even more worried than before as he crouched down to your height, hand running down your back soothingly. “Hey, hey, calm down. It’s all right.”

You wished you could believe his words, believe the softness in his tone and the beat of your torturous heart that missed the Miguel you knew. This one - your universe’s Miguel O’Hara (you didn’t even know you had one in your New York, it felt surreal to your depressed mind.) - was a stranger wearing the face of the person you loved. His face was a carbon copy of your Miguel’s, but softer on the edges, calmer and more… human than Spider-man 2099. His voice was gentler, caring more warmth for a stranger in need than yours has, like a whisper from an angel lulling you into a peaceful rest.

“Vamos, let’s get you out of the rain first.”

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silkscream · 10 months

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i get mean when i’m nervous (like a bad dog)

ꨄ︎ pairing: miguel o’hara x gn!silk/spider!reader

ꨄ︎ synopsis: you go too far in your defense of miles when you give miguel an ultimatum.

ꨄ︎ tags: rated explicit/18+ (smut), unprotected sex, dom!miguel, choking, dacryphilia, angst, reader is probably early to mid20s and miguel is early 30s? reader is afab

ꨄ︎ wc: 2.1k

ꨄ︎ notes: we all knew this was coming. i didnt proofread it (sorry!) anyways, thank yall so much for 4k <3

“You’re too hard on the kid.”

“He is an anomaly.”

“You said that about me, too, remember?” You look at Miguel, exasperated.

For someone so good at menacing eye contact, he knows he can’t quite one-up you (though he’d never admit it). Miguel looks past your face instead, like he’s looking through you. You hate it.

It must’ve been a fluke. A coincidence. How could it be that the damn spider bit you, too? He hates that you remind him of this every time you defend Miles.

“I’m not supposed to be here either, but I am. So why can’t he be here too, O’Hara?”

“Just fucking drop it, please,” he seethes.

“Or what?” you spit back at him.

He scans your face, brows furrowed. Miguel isn’t sure who’s the hunter and who’s the animal provoked. Your eyes are bright and livid, and your feet are rooted in the space before him. He swallows, his jugular tough and broad. Even as he towers over you, you’re firm in your cruel gaze.

“That’s enough,” he dismisses simply. He needs to cut the tension. He’s itching to do it with his claws if he has to, but you aren’t budging.

“If he goes, I go.”

“Excuse me?” His jaw clenches with an iron grip.

You don’t repeat yourself. The room is silent enough to make your heavy breaths echo. With your lips set grimly in a line, you stand your gaze with him even if it feels painful. With Miguel, it always does. You’re surprised about the lack of fear you possess in your body. There’s something else brewing in the pit of your stomach that you can’t quite process.

Miguel feels it too. Fucking tenfold.

It’s a surprise to no one that the man turns primal when angry, but the air about him right now has you trembling. Ever since you joined the Spider Society, Miguel’s coldness never budged for reasons unknown to you. He was somehow the cruelest to you out of everyone when he found the opportunity to, sometimes avoiding you for days after he’d snap. And now, right in front of him, you dare to bare your teeth at his authority. How fucking stubborn and waspish you are. It makes him feel livid.

Something shifts in his eyes, a storm cloud passing through the sky.

“What, you’re giving me the silent treatment now?” he taunts. “You’re not going fucking anywhere.”

“Why does it matter to you if I’m clearly a nuisance?”

“You leaving doesn’t solve any–”

“You literally wanted me gone the moment you met me!”

“Shut up!”

It’s like a glass breaks. You gasp at the feeling of Miguel grabbing you so suddenly, the grip on your arms tight as he slightly shakes you. With a heavy exhale, he opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is something of a growl.

“Shut. The fuck. Up.”

He lifts his hand and for a second you think he might hit you, but he simply grasps your chin tightly, lifting your face as you feel his warm breath fan your cheeks. He looks at you and you stare back, sharp-toothed and sullen.

It’s like whiplash when his mouth meets yours in an open gasp. His other hand buries itself in your hair. You melt against his body, arms thrown around his neck as he slots a leg in between both of yours.

For once, his mind goes quiet. It’s the quietest it’s ever been. He nips at your bottom lip with his fangs until you feel a coppery taste on your tongue, but you keep going, begging for more. Everything in your body burns for him from your very core, as if something foreign has rooted itself inside your sternum that won’t stop growing. It feels much too big for your body now.

He gasps – actually gasps – at the feeling of your tongue on his neck. Long, dark eyelashes flutter as you lave over the junction between his neck and his jaw, which is already difficult to reach given Miguel’s height. He hoists you up effortlessly until your back is against the wall and your balance is kept together by his rigid body alone.

An animalistic snarl emits from his mouth when he feels your teeth, so he grabs you by the hair to meet your drunken gaze. He presses his forehead to yours with eyes closed.

“Fuckin’ anomaly. You’re a fuckin’.... rarity. Like nothing I’ve ever seen,” he mutters, voice low. “S’why you can’t leave me.”

You’re dizzy at his words. Your breaths sync until you aren’t sure where you end and he begins.

“I can’t even… tell you what you do to me. Can’t put it into words. It’s no good.”

“Say it in a different way, then,” you whisper.

He groans. You can feel how hard he is underneath you and it takes everything in you not to roll your hips against him, so he does it for you. He kisses you again with even more desperation this time, tongue and teeth swapping spit as he grips you, like he’s trying to tear you apart with his claws.

Gripping your ass, he carries you from the wall to the couch by his desk, heavy body on top of yours as he quickly discards you of your suit in record speed. You can still feel the sting of your split lip from his teeth and he tongues over it as a quiet apology, groan in his throat tapering off to a whimper.

“Please,” he mumbles against your open mouth, and you can’t tell if he’s begging for forgiveness or for permission.

All it takes is a whimper from you and he slots two fingers against your folds, collecting your wetness as he moans against your mouth. It’s strange, how Miguel’s fury melted into unbridled need just because you’d gotten him too riled up. If he wasn’t going to fight with you, he was going to take what he wanted. Being around you already tormented him in this way, and the only time he could fully admit it was now, he’d decided. The moment he kissed you, he knew.

He looks at you like he’s starved, like you’re just the prey he’s been waiting for. It feels terrifying for him, how much he wants you. How you’ve been both the bane of existence and the golden apple taunting him since the moment he’d laid eyes on you.

“Tell me you want it,” he says with a strained voice.

“I want it,” you murmur. “I want you.”

He’s too impatient to prep you despite how badly he wants to taste your cunt. His suit disintegrates into pixels until his tan skin is revealed, scars smoothed over your nimble fingertips. Your touch makes him shudder.

You bite back a moan when you feel the thickness of him glide into you with little effort from how wet you are. It stings in your core only slightly before he thrusts into you again with a slow pace. You keen in his touch, eyes rolling back already. It makes him want to disintegrate.

Miguel can’t think anymore. Nothing coherent, at least. His senses are swimming – drowning – in everything that is you. Your scent, your skin, your breath. The thought of all of it used to cross his mind during inopportune and inconvenient times, and the mere fact of this version of you existing in his brain made him feel disgusted in himself. You were a parasite in his mind and you didn’t even know it. He needed to get you out, like you had infected him somehow, and he thought for a brief moment before he kissed you that this would be the way out.

God, was he fucking wrong.

Because now he knows what it feels like to be inside your warm cunt and he’ll never be able to forget it. He’ll never be able to take anyone else again because of how fucking good your pussy feels. So good it almost makes him angry. Because here you are, writhing and whimpering underneath him, blissed out enough to see stars, and you don’t even know how much pain you’re bringing him as much as pleasure. To have something he’s always wanted – how lovely it should be, but how painful it is to feel once he thinks that he doesn’t deserve it. He wants to encapsulate this feeling so he can get drunk on it again and again for the rest of his fucking life.

His name falls from your lips so sweetly. It’s petals falling from a tree.

“Fuck,” he groans. He strokes your face, thumb grazing over your bottom lip.

You sound like a wounded animal when you cry out again. He’s too rough again with his teeth on your neck to the point where you know there has to be a mark at this point. His teeth move down to your breast where you feel his tongue glide over your nipple.

He hits that spot inside you, warm and gummy around him, and he has to clasp his eyes tightly shut so he can focus on not cumming. He’s breathless when he opens his eyes again, lifting your leg to rest on his shoulder as he gets deeper into you. You arch into his touch and he can’t fucking believe how pliable you are, how malleable.

“Look at me,” he says in a hushed mutter when he sees your eyelids fluttering at the pace of his thrusts. “Wan’ you to look at me when I fuck you.”

His tone is almost mean. When your eyes are wide open for him, so is your mouth. You’re so beautiful. Like nothing he’s ever seen. A fucking enigma. He can’t help but connect your lips again, all teeth and tongue as you snake your arms around his body. He surprises you by pinning both of your arms down with the same force he uses when sparring. It makes you even more feverish.

There are tears collecting at the corners of your eyes as he fucks into you even harder. With one hand pinning your wrists together, Miguel has his other hand wrapped around your throat.

“My pretty baby,” he mumbles. He surprises himself when he hears it come out of his mouth out loud. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Miguel–”

“What, it’s too much for you?” he snickers, his voice gravelly. “Thought you were my tough girl.”

He emphasizes my like it’s obvious. Your stomach churns.

“Shut up.”

“Yeah, you can take it. Fucking take it.”

You’d bark out a smartass reply if you could, but the snap of his hips only causes you to sob against his broad shoulder.

He’s animalistic when he takes you, has a hand pulling the locks of your hair as his wolf-teeth cascare down the length of your jugular, and you let him. You’d let him consume you, render you asunder, make an autopsy of your desire splayed alive. That heated, enthralling desire – it’s all there, everywhere, consuming him, too.

Wanna fucking ruin you. Wanna split you open on my cock.

“It’s too much–” you whimper, but he’s relentless.

“You can do it,” he says, gritting his teeth, more predator than man.

“I’m gonna— oh, god–”

“Gonna fuckin’ cum for me, huh?”

You don’t answer – can’t answer — because the core of you is exploding like fireworks. Your legs shake with the ghost of a tremor over and over, nails raking down the length of Miguel’s broad back as you cry out in pleasure. Convulsing, aching, twinging like a fuse blown out.

The tears running down your face makes his high peak. He feels you sigh underneath him, preening from his teeth on your flesh once again, and he revels in the sweetness of your sweat and your honeyed gaze. The violence of desire fades into a glowing heat spread between both of your bodies until he finishes with heavy breaths.

Miguel collapses on top of you as he breezes through the comedown, endorphins surging through his veins as he inhales the scent of your hair. You press a hand to his cheek and look at him with your fluttery eyes, lips apart in unspoken ecstasy.

The shame will hit him later, he thinks, because he can’t get enough of how beautiful your face looks all blissed out, especially knowing that it’s because of him. You’re so goddamn pretty underneath him, not doing anything at all except helping him catch his breath until his syncs in tandem with yours. He curls around you, arm slung over your midriff as his nose tickles underneath your jaw.

“Didn’t take you for a cuddler, O’Hara.”

“Let me fuckin’ rest, man.”

You nuzzle his hairline, stroking his dark locks with your fingers.

“Does this mean you’ll be nicer to Miles?” you murmur, chuckling.

“No promises.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara angst #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara drabble #across the spiderverse #spider-man: across the spider-verse #across the spider-verse #spider-man: across the spiderverse

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alwaysmoncheri · 1 month

Note

hello! I hope you’re doing good! I would like to request a fic with tasm!peter parker or james potter if you prefer, but something where they’re making out and the reader ends up breaking his glasses? If that makes sense🫣

hi, my darling, i’m am doing very well! thank you for requesting, that makes complete sense! I’m totally watching tasm again after writing this <3

cw: fem!reader, making out, slightly suggestive (but not really), aunt may walking in, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k

Peter’s mouth is on your neck while the bridge of his glasses rubs against the skin just an inch higher than his mouth. His hands stay firmly planted on your hips as you sit in his lap on his swivel chair. Your textbook and computer lay abandoned next to his on his desk in front of you.

“Peter, I have to study,” you mumble, but the sigh that escapes your lips makes your excuse less believable, “We have to study.” you add, trying you best to get yourself and peter back on track for a big exam tomorrow. Crazy for Peter or not, this test is important and you need to get a little studying in, but you can’t get Peter to keep his hands off you.

“No, we don’t.” Peter replies quickly, before biting your neck, causing you to let out squeak.

“Peter,” you practically whine, and the chuckle that falls from Peter’s mouth vibrates onto your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap. When Peter lifts his head from your neck, you’re pouting. Lips jutted out and eyebrows pinched together with pleading eyes. Oh, Peter could die right here with you in his arms. He pulls you closer, biceps and hands pressed into your sides and forearms into your stomach.

“You’re going to be fine,” Peter offers gently, pressing a much softer kiss to your cheek, allowing you to release the tension from your face, “You’ve studied plenty already.”

“But–”

“No, buts,” Peter shuts you down, gently rubbing your sides in an attempt to silence your worries. He wants to kiss you so bad, but he would never do it without your permission. And if you want to study, he’ll let you, but he doesn’t think you really do, “Kiss me?”

Peter hears you release a long, dramatic, sigh before shifting yourself in his lap so that you’re straddling him, his hands now stabilizing you by your waist. For a moment your face is expressionless and Peter can’t read you. He worries that you’re unhappy with him but when he sees a giddy smile creep onto your face, he instantly reciprocates and his worries melt away.

You lock your hands around Peter’s neck before leaning in to kiss him. At first, you kiss him softly, tenderly just because you love him. But when you lightly tug on Peter’s hair at the nape of his neck, he takes it as a sign to tug on your hips, pulling you flush against his chest and deepen the kiss. But when the bridge of you nose knocks into Peter’s glasses, you groan in momentary pain, causing his eyes to widen, hand reaching up to gently hold your cheek, the action asking if you’re okay. When you nod your head and meet his gaze, you notice his concern before it’s quickly replaced with frustration. Peter quickly tears his glasses on his face and tosses them towards his bed without sparing a glance in that direction. But when a soft crack echos from across the room, you snap your gaze towards the glasses that now lay broken at the bridge on the floor.

“Peter!” You gasp, shifting your gaze between him and the broken glasses, but no concern seems to be etched on his face.

“Don’t worry, I can get new ones,” Peter assures you, kissing the corners of your lips while his nose delicately brushes the apples of your cheeks, “I just wanna kiss you.” Peter whispers and you feel a rush of warmth spread across your face at his tone.

“Aunt May isn’t going to be happy.” You state, nervously glancing towards the door that Peter probably forgot to lock again.

“Shush, less talking, baby,” Oh god, you melt completely at the way his says baby and presses his finger to your mouth, before replacing it with his lips, “More kissing.” He adds in between a few quick, hard, presses of his lips on yours.

“Oh whatev—hmph!”

Peter kisses you long and hard, successfully getting you to stop talking. You feel hot all over when he kisses you again and again. And when you rank your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on the ends, while simultaneously gently biting his bottom lip, Peter makes a sound between a gasp and a groan that makes you want to do it again just so you can hear the sound once more. There’s a kiss, another, and another, you’re so caught up in the feeling of his mouth against yours, carefully sliding your hands up and down his chest before lightly gripping a fist full of his shirt to keep him near you.

The way Peter touches you is like muscle memory, he knows how to make you gasp and what makes you shiver. When, his hands slip under the material of your shirt and caress your skin, your body reacts exactly how he knows it always does. Then, he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his waist, and with his lips still on yours, he gently lowers the both of you onto his bed. He seems so far away now and you can’t handle it. Before he even has the chance to lower himself further down onto the bed, you grab his biceps, which are tensed from holding himself up, and tug him towards you. Peter practically falls and suddenly the weight of his whole body is on top of you, Peter worries for a moment, breaking the kiss, but you make a noise, reminiscent to a childish whine before grabbing his jaw with both of you hands and pulling him back. With his lips on yours, his tongue slides into your mouth while your thumbs trace the outline of his jaw and his hand slides behind you back and into your shirt.

“Hey, do you two know where—Oh my goodness!” You and Peter are quickly pulled apart, turning your heads in the direction of Aunt May’s loud gasp. She stands just outside the bedroom with one hand still on the doorknob, her expression loudly displaying her shock. Peter stays on top of you for a split second, before May’s gaze shifts between his hand in your shirt and both of your disheveled appearances, “Peter Benjamin Parker!”

With that, Peter immediately jumps up from on top of you, quickly grabbing your hand to stand next to him. Both of your faces are flushed red from being caught, even if all you were doing was kissing. Aunt May stands by the door, both of her hands placed firmly on her hips, presumably awaiting a reasonable response while you and Peter glance at each other in search of something to say. When Peter’s gaze returns to his aunt, he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“Aunt May—We were just—” Peter pauses as he stumbles over his words, feeling pathetic under the eyes of both you and his aunt.

“Studying.” You finish with a somewhat convincing smile and when Aunt May turns to you, her gaze softens, but when she notices the broken glasses laying forgotten on the floor behind you, her questioning expression returns.

“And what happened to your glasses?” Aunt May asks, a triumphant smile crossing her face as she knows she’s caught the two of you red-handed in your obvious lie, “Were you studying when that happened?”

You and Peter hesitate, he sends you a nervous smile and the both of you bite your tongues, not trusting yourselves to speak. After a moment, the two of you nod, heads hanging low.

“Mhm, right,” May hums before sending Peter a look that says, ‘we’ll talk later.’ Then, she takes a few steps into the room, causing you and Peter’s eyes to widen, but May only steps around you to pick up the broken glasses before walking back towards the door, “Well, dinner is almost ready, you two better behave.”

“Okay, yeah, thank you, May.” Peter says, and you can tell he’s beyond flustered by the situation as he runs a hand through his hair, then brushes a finger along his bottom lip, “We’ll be down soon.”

May nods before sending the both of you one final look, this one a little more playful than the rest. She exits the bedroom and closes the door behind her, leaving you and Peter alone once again.

The both of you share a glance before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Peter falls back onto the bed, tugging you down with his so that you’re laying on his chest.

“I told you she’d be mad.” You tease, running your hand up his chest, eventually reaching the back of his neck, while leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“It was so worth it.” Peter smirks before flipping you over and kissing your face

masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @Kevia1000, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @averyhotchner, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker

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parkerflix · 11 months

Text

—cielo en la mente

miles morales x gn!reader

genre: fluff, angst

wc: 4.5k

synopsis: miles morales had you seeing double. but what if it wasn’t your eyes playing tricks?

warnings: atsv spoilers! canon divergence

taglist: CLOSED as of 6/19!

part of my 1k celebration! & part two to this fic!

You had been ignoring Miles lately. It wasn’t that you wanted to see him, but you were confused. Nothing seemed to make sense, or add up.

You sighed, sweeping up the last of the hair on the ground. You mom had already packed up and gone home, telling you to finish the last of the cleaning while she got dinner ready. You went over to the wash bowls, rinsing the hair brushes from the barbicide.

The front door had been locked, and music was playing from the speakers. A bang came from the front door, and you turned around to see Miles standing there.

His hair was out of braids again, and he seemed to be wearing the baggiest jeans and sweater you’d ever seen. He waved at you awkwardly, and you walked over, standing in front of the lock. His eyes were pleading with you to open the door, and you sighed, knowing you wouldn’t be able to leave him outside.

You unlocked the door & opened it so he could come inside. The silence between the two of you was awkward, but neither one of you knew what to say.

“Hey.”

You fiddled with the keys, and went to lock the door, stopping when he asked you a question.

“Could you do my hair? Please?”

It was such a simple question, but it still caught you off guard. Miles normally never asked you to do his hair, he’d just show up during regular hours or text you in the middle of the night and you’d do his hair in your room.

You steeled yourself, and nodded.

“Yeah. Follow me.”

Miles quietly followed you to the washbowls, and sat down at a clean one.

“Do you want me to use a different shampoo & conditioner?”

He was quiet for a moment,

“Can you use the ones you like the most?”

You hummed in agreement and pulled the mint scented shampoo and conditioner. You eyed the deep conditioning treatment, and grabbed that off the shelf.

Returning back to Miles, you leaned his head back into the wash bowl before starting the water.

“Let me know if it’s too hot or cold, okay?”

“Ah!”

You quickly turned off the water and panicked before you heard Miles let out a laugh.

“I was joking. The water is fine.”

You started up the water again and flicked some towards his face.

“Ack!”

“That’s what you get for scaring me like that!”

You both laughed, and soon it turned into a comfortable silence. Grabbing the shampoo, you made sure to lather his hair & rise it out. Miles was secretly a cry baby when he got shampoo in his eyes, so you covered his eyes with your hand.

Grabbing the deep conditioning treatment, you placed it in his hair, making sure to really get his roots. His hair had definitely seen better days, and you were confused how it got to this state when you were the last one to do his hair.

You finished with the deep conditioning treatment and went on with the regular conditioner, the minty scent hitting your nose as the cap opened.

“Smells good.”

Miles had been quiet up until now, and you genuinely thought he had fallen asleep.

“Yeah. Mint.”

He hummed.

“I like it, it seems to be very you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the comment, and nodded, knowing he couldn’t see you nodding.

You rinsed the last of the conditioner out of his hair, and wrapped it in a towel, tapping his shoulder to let him know you were done.

He opened his eyes and stretched out, reminding you of a cat.

“That was nice. You should do this as a profession, I think it would suit you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Har har. You act like I haven’t been doing your hair and the neighbor’s hair since I could walk.”

Miles gave you a small smile and walked over to your station.

You got your tray ready with all your supplies, not noticing Miles was watching you.

You were different from Miles. He wasn’t sure if you existed in his universe, but he hoped that there was a version of you, hopefully near him. He had seen how you treated him, so gentle but had an edge with your words. He wondered what his counterpart in this universe meant to you.

“You know,” he started, catching your attention when he paused.

“You’re pretty special. You have a cool heart.” Miles inwardly cringed at that, wondering what the hell a cool heart could be.

“Mmm. Thanks.”

“Also, thanks for doing my hair.”

You nodded, ignoring the way something in your stomach flipped.

Miles was never one to outwardly express his gratitude, he was always the type to just show his gratitude and appreciation in smaller ways. He was more reserved with his words in that sense, and this change was different to you.

The rest of time you were doing his hair was relatively quiet, Miles asking you small questions here and there. You enjoyed the atmosphere, happy that you got to spend some quiet time with him.

You finally finished the braids after a little while, showing him the end result. It was the same style that you had done before, but you just thought he looked good in them.

Miles got up from the chair, and got closer to the mirror to inspect them.

He looked at himself in the mirror, unable to shake off a feeling of happiness that swam through him. His hair had never really been in braids before, it was something that he just assumed didn’t suit him, but here he was. He could tell that you put so much effort and love into them, it made his heart swell with joy.

He turned to you, and engulfed you in a hug. He wasn’t one to be affectionate with people he just met, but there was something about you that drew him in, and made him comfortable.

You froze for a second, before hugging him back, ignoring the nudging questions at the back of your mind.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You had asked Miles that day if he wanted to come over for dinner, but had declined and said he had a few things to do. You understood, but felt a little sad that he wasn’t going to come over.

The rest of the night had gone by pretty unceremoniously, giving you time to think about Miles and his weird behavior.

You sighed and texted him, seeing if he was willing to meet you for breakfast in the morning at your spot. He quickly responded with a yes, and a small pit of anxiety formed in your stomach, nervous for the morning.

The next morning your alarm went off and you groaned, not wanting to get up. Turning your alarm off, you closed your eyes for a moment, before remembering you were meeting Miles for breakfast.

Swearing under your breath, you quickly got up and threw on a sweater and jeans, not even bothering to worry about anything else.

Your mom seemed to still be asleep, so you slipped out of the front door, quickly switching your slippers for shoes at the door.

Your spot wasn’t far from either of your houses, and the walk was always nice in the mornings.

Yosi’s diner was the place that you’d been going to even since you were little kids, back when there were 5 of you coming. Even after your parents stopped coming, you and Miles made it a tradition to only have breakfast there. It held memories of you guys sharing good news, and bad.

Miles had seen you cry because a date had stood you up the night before, and you had been his support when his dad passed. Yosi’s diner meant everything to you both.

You finally made your way to the entrance, the flickering sign feeling like a signal that you were home. Opening the door, the soft tinkling of the bell along with the smell of pie placed a smile on your face.

Yosi was standing behind the counter, telling one of the servers some instructions. She was slightly older than you & Miles, with an aura that made everyone comfortable around her. Her parents had opened the diner, naming it after her when they found the place, hoping for her to inherit it.

She glanced at you and smiled. Shooing away the server, she rounded the corner of the counter and came to give you a hug.

“It’s so good to see you! Donde estabas escondida? It feels like I haven’t seen you in so long.”

You chuckled, embracing her.

“I’m sorry. El salón está tan ocupado, toda la gente quiere su pelo arreglado. I’m sure quiñce season is right around the corner.”

She laughed a parted from you, turning her head to the booth at the end of the right side of the diner.

“He’s been waiting for you.”

You hummed.

“He’s in a mood, good luck.” She walked away after that, going back into the kitchen.

You took a deep breath and walked over to the booth. Miles had been watching you since you walked in, eyes never leaving you until you sat down.

“You’re late.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We never agreed on a time.”

“We always meet at the same time.”

Before he could respond, food came to your table, your usual and his usual.

He always got the same chocolate chip pancakes with some whipped cream and a few cherries on them. He never mentioned it, but you knew he got it because his dad used to get them and share with him. You assumed it helped him feel closer to his dad, and understood it was his way.

Both of you tucked into your food, not saying anything until he broke the ice.

“So, que quieres?”

“Damn, what’s with the attitude?”

“There’s no attitude here mamí, just asking a question.” He said, taking a big bite of his pancakes.

You dropped your cutlery, glaring at him.

“Seriously, qué te pasa? What the hell did I do to deserve this weird ass mood?”

Miles didn’t want to say what he was thinking, but he was jealous. He hadn’t seen you in forever, and he had passed by the salon the night before, seeing you doing someone else’s hair when you were closed. He could tell that you seemed comfortable with whoever the guy was, your smile the same you normally only gave him. He hated feeling this way, especially because you weren’t huge on jealousy. Previous partners of yours always were jealous of Miles, and you’d go to him and tell him how annoying it was, not knowing they had reason to feel jealous. He knew you better than anyone, and he wasn’t shy to show it.

“Nothing.”

You raised a brow, not buying his words.

He glanced up at you, seeing your eyes already trained on his face.

“What?”

“Seriously, what’s with you?”

“Nothing, mamí. How was your night last night?” He had hoped that switching up the topic would divert your attention.

“Well, mi mama hizo pupusas, she left some for you. She missed you at dinner, you know.”

“I miss your mom too. Tell her I’ll try to come over one of these days for dinner. Did you miss me at dinner?”

Your face heated up slightly, and you cleared your throat.

“I-no.”

Miles’ face had a huge grin on it, and you knew you were in trouble for it.

“Oh so you did miss me? Mamí, if you miss me that much, you always know where my house is, we could remedy that.” He winked at you, making you roll your eyes.

“First of all, you know I hate when you call me mamí. Makes me feel like those groupies Jaime has. Secondly, you wish I missed you. I haven’t climbed up your window since you decided you'd rather spend everyday with me, papi.”

He laughed at that, he knew you knew he hated being called papi by anyone but his mom. Somehow, whatever tension that had grown between you two had dispersed and left you both pushing away any budding feelings. The rest of breakfast had gone without addressing it anymore, and Miles was thankful.

When it was time for the bill to come, Miles stopped you before you could even pull your card out. You thanked him, and he waved you off, not too worried about it.

“Well, thanks for breakfast.” You said, grabbing your things and getting ready to leave.

“Can I walk you home?”

You nodded and you both got out of the booth, waving bye to Yosi when you left the building.

“So, what’s with the gentleman act?”

Miles clutched his chest like he was wounded and gave you the saddest look he could muster.

“Amor, cómo puedes decir eso? I’m always a gentleman.”

You pushed him slightly, making him burst out into a fit of laughter.

“The only time I’ve seen you be a gentleman was when you were dating that cute enby.”

“Which one?”

“The one with glasses??? God, I can’t remember their name but they really were like your polar opposite, I have no clue how you managed to date them.”

Miles thought about it, and nodded his head.

“Ah, I know who you’re talking about. They were cool. Liked science, and wanted to major in it. We still talk now and then.”

“Mírate, keeping friends who aren’t just me! Rio should be proud.”

“You’re annoying, you know that?”

“Yet you still hang out with me. Admit it, me amas.”

You were too busy looking around the neighborhood to notice Miles’ face get flustered, and he shrugged it off, knowing you didn’t have any hidden meaning behind it.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m stuck with you.”

You glanced at him and smiled, before realizing you guys had already made it to your apartment building.

“Well, this is me. Te veo mañana?”

He nodded and you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking into your building.

Once you had disappeared into the building, Miles groaned and ran his hand down his face. His feelings for you were going to be the death of him.

The next day you regrettably had school.

Both you and Miles went to different schools, him getting into Visions and you going to the local highschool.

You slipped into your uniform, never quite getting used to how annoying the polo shirt looked on you. Fixing your hair a bit, you ran to grab your shoes from the doorway before Miles showed up.

Your mom was sitting at the dining room table, sipping a cup of coffee watching you frantically grab all of your stuff for the day.

“Llevaste comida?”

You grabbed an apple from the counter & a couple bucks off your piggy bank in your room.

“Yeah, totally.”

“Don’t be lying to me. No puedes ir sin comer, te vas a enfermar.”

“I’m not! I’ll see you when I come home?”

She nodded and you gave her a peck on the cheek, running over to your window and making your way down the fire escape.

Miles was already waiting for you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Don’t-”

“Two days in a row, I’m starting to think you’re hiding a boyfriend up there.”

“Oh shut up.”

The walk to your school was fairly the same except today he bought you a breakfast sandwich. You gave him a questioning look, and he just ignored it.

Making it to your school first, you both stopped at the entrance, shuffling to the side to not block the doors.

“So, any big plans for today at school?”

Miles shook his head.

“Nah, there’s a bunch of lectures and maybe a lab or two. The school’s not that much different than yours.”

“Mmmm, well. Don’t forget to make friends!”

Before he could respond, someone behind you called your name and wiggled their brows.

“Nice boyfriend! Maybe that’s where you sneak off to all the time!”

You flipped them off & took a deep breath, turning back to Miles.

“Maybe you should be worried about making friends.”

“Nah, they just know you and I are close.”

“What’s that about though?”

“What?”

“You sneaking off?” Miles tried to hide the jealousy that was creeping into his voice.

“Oh that.” You scratched your neck and gave him a bashful smile.

“Everyone thinks I’m seeing someone but I go out and grab lunch nearby and then come back. We’re technically not supposed to leave campus so…”

Miles laughed and you felt some pride in your chest.

“That does make more sense.”

You both idly chatted for a little longer before the first bell rang, and you knew he had to go.

“I’ll see you after school?” You said, hopefully.

Miles shook his head and gave you a sad smile.

“Sorry amor, I gotta help my mom and my uncle with some stuff at home.”

You nodded, understanding.

He ruffled your hair and you swatted his hand away, annoyed.

“I’ll see you around then!”

He saw you walk into his school and checked his phone, seeing he was late for school. He didn’t really care though, knowing he would rather spend time with you than be on time.

On your way home from school, you decided to stop in at a bookstore.

You were strolling the aisles, trying to find something that you were interested in. You had found a book, and someone accidentally knocked into you.

“Sorry!”

You turned around and saw Miles there, in a completely different outfit from when you saw him leave for school.

“Oh hey! I thought you were helping your mom with something at home?”

Miles scratched his neck awkwardly and nodded.

“Yeah, turns out she didn’t really need my help.”

“Oh did Aaron have it under control?”

“Yes!” He coughed and glanced around the store.

“Yeah, she had him helping so there wasn’t that much for me to do.”

“So you decided to come to a bookstore?”

“Yes?”

You hummed and turned around again, looking for the book again.

You could tell that Miles was still hovering behind you, hearing the shuffling of his Jordan’s.

“Miles,qué quieres?”

“Uhh… I was wondering if that book was good? I’ve been trying to find something new to read that isn’t an action type of book.”

You whipped around, stumbling into him not realizing how close he had been behind you.

“Are you asking me for a book recommendation? Because if so, we should do a book swap!”

“Book swap?” He tilted his head and gave you a confused look.

“Yeah! We can find books from our favorite genres for each other! I know they have a little cafe area and we can read them there!”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Great! Do you wanna meet up front in like 15 minutes?”

He nodded and you clapped and walked off to a different section of the store.

15 minutes later you both met up at the front, both with books in your hands.

Getting to the register, you plucked Miles’ book out of his hands and paid for both of them. He gave you a look and you just shrugged.

“Think of it as payment from breakfast yesterday.”

You thanked the cashier and both of you had made your way to the cafe.

Miles watched you order a drink, and declined your offer for anything. Both of you sat down at a couch, and you put the bag with the books in the middle.

Pulling out both, you handed him the one you picked out for him.

“Six of crows?”

“Yeah! It follows like a group of thieves and you get to see all the different perspectives, I really enjoy it.”

“Oh, sounds cool.”

You smiled and looked down at the book you held.

“Oh hey, Lord of the flies!”

“You’ve read it before?”

You shook your head, a small frown tugging at your lips.

“No, you and I used sparknotes to write my essay on it?”

Miles’ eyes widened.

“Right. Right.” He cleared his throat.

“Well, after that, I decided to read it and I think you’d enjoy it.”

You hummed and nodded, opening the book and beginning to read.

Miles opened his book as well, and was reading, until he felt your head on his lap. He looked down and you and you smiled, seemingly not thinking anything of it.

Miles on the other hand, his heart was racing and he was hoping you couldn’t hear it. He wasn’t uncomfortable per say, he just didn’t know if it was normal between you and his counterpart. You didn’t seem to notice his inner turmoil and were fixated on the book.

A little while had passed, and Miles had seemingly got more comfortable, mindlessly playing with a strand of your hair. You were halfway done with the book when your phone had gone off. You sat up, Miles’ hand dropping down to his side.

Picking up the phone, you saw your mother had texted you to come home, she needed you to run an errand for her.

Packing up your stuff, Miles stood up when you did.

“I gotta head home, my mom needs me to run a few errands for her.”

“Want me to help?”

You looked at him and smiled.

“Sure. I know mom would love to see you anyways.We can talk about the books on the way there.”

You both quickened your pace, and you grabbed Miles’ hand dragging him along with you.

Neither of you had realized the whole way to your house that you were still holding hands, fingers intertwined.

Miles had told you what he thought about the book so far, and he was interested in it. You explained some things he wasn’t sure about, and gave him some fun facts about the characters and the author.

In turn,he told you about the book he had recommended and about the movie that they had made based on the book. He hated the movie.

Finally getting to your apartment building, you climbed up the stairs to your apartment, dropping his hand to look for your keys.

You opened the front door and the smells of cinnamon permeated your senses.

“Ya llegué! Traje a Miles también!”

You kicked off your shoes and Miles followed suit, staring at the photos on the walls. The walls were covered in pictures of you and your mother, of you and him, and your families together. He pulled his attention away, following you into the kitchen.

You gave your mother a hug from behind, kissing the top of her head. She let out a laugh and shook her head. She would always say you’re her favorite child (you were her only child).

“Dónde estabas? Necesito que lleves esto para mi.”

“Estábamos en la tienda, quería otro libro para leer.”

Your mother turned to Miles, giving him a big hug. He hugged her back awkwardly and you snickered at his eyes pleading for your help.

She parted from him and pointed to the fridge.

“Te dejé algunas pupusas, llévalos a tu mamá también.”

“Uh gracias, I’ll make sure to take them to her.”

Both you and your mom shared a glance and she shrugged, before walking over to hand you a package.

“Just this?”

“Yes, and then no getting sidetracked, you have to come home straight after. I trust you will be with them, right Miles?”

“Si!”

He didn’t miss the way you bit your lip, trying to hold in a laugh. You both bid your mother farewell, and went to deliver the package.

The walk to the place was quiet, Miles had no clue where you were going. You cleared your throat, eyes still forward.

“What was that back there?”

“What was what?”

You stopped walking and Miles stopped a moment after, turning to look at you.

“That accent, Miles!”

“Huh?”

“My mom literally side eyed you, she was definitely confused as to why you were trying to pull a joke on her…”

“Oh, right.”

“I found it funny though, mainly because I do that to her all the time.”

“Right.”

Miles started walking again, and you followed behind him, grabbing his hand that was just swinging.

“Estás enojado conmigo?”

Miles stopped and looked down at your hands that were intertwined. He had a strange feeling in his stomach, he wasn’t sure if he could pinpoint it. He was trying to get home, to figure out how to even get back there, but he didn’t even know how long it had been. Time was relative and he wasn’t sure if he was too late.

He also didn’t know why he felt attached to you, a sense of comfort while being around you. He secretly hoped, that even at home, you would be there.

“I’m not mad.”

“Good. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

He squeezed your hand, giving you a small smile.

“Nah. You’re good. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hm, okay. But let me know if I do okay?”

“Got it.”

The rest of the walk to the place was filled with you two talking about different things, laughter from the both of you, once again never letting go of the other’s hand.

Miles realized that the area you guys were going to seemed familiar. It was his uncle’s place. His hands started to get sweaty, and he was panicking. He had actively avoided his family, watching from afar.

You, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine. You hadn’t seen Aaron in a while, and you always wondered if he was doing okay. Miles always seemed on edge when you asked what he and Aaron did, which made you suspicious but you also knew he didn’t have to tell you everything.

You both made it to the hallway, and Miles squeezed your hand once more. You assumed it was an unconscious thing, but Miles did it to reassure himself.

“Why don’t I wait here for you?”

“Come on, I’m just gonna knock on the door and if he’s not there, we’ll leave it on his doorstep.”

He nodded and took a deep breath following you.

You knocked on the door, fully assuming no one would be home. Miles told you beforehand that he was helping Rio, so you just did it to reassure Miles. You weren’t sure if they had fought beforehand, but you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.

You knocked once more, hearing a voice on the other end yell for someone else to open the door. You straightened yourself up, plastering a smile on your face. Miles rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb, taking another deep breath.

The door creaked open, and when you made eye contact with the person at the door, your heart fell to the floor. Miles Morales stood in front of you, still wearing his uniform, his smile slowly dropping as he looked at your hand, being intertwined with someone. He looked at the person, eyes growing wide and jaw clenched.

Miles next to you felt his heart stop for a second, unsure what to do. He was staring at himself, who if looks could kill, would have him 6 feet under.

You dropped your hand from Miles’, thoughts going a million miles a minute. The main thought though was:

What the hell is going on?

taglist! @nameless-beanie @carmendanny2 @kukigirli @rayendrop @lovefks @anuncalledbridge @immortal-t @riki-gf @shuriri4life @starboychanyeol @sakura-onesan @the-smut-plug

if your name is in bold i was unable to tag you!

#miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales angst #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales prowler #e42 miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales fluff #across the spider verse spoilers #spider man: across the spider verse #paris writes

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lymmsweb · 11 months

Text

Until I found you

🕷pairing : miguel o’hara x spider!reader

🕷word count: 1095

🕷warnings: non sexual intimacy, description of wounds, nudity, minor ATSV spoilers

🕷summary: Lyla alerts Miguel that you’re injured, Miguel takes it upon himself to help you

🕸 After he set up the Spider association you were one of the first that joined, he didn’t feel much for you at first but after going on countless missions together he trusted you more than anyone.

🕸He gave up on finding love after his daughter died, he felt as if he didn’t deserve a good relationship after all the damage he caused. You were one of the few people that helped him through his guilt and sadness after the event, often cracking jokes with Peter B. to get Miguel to crack even the littlest of smiles.

🕸 He never truly got over his daughters death but he slowly started to act softer and more affectionate with you. He would hang around the lobby more, he didn’t really know why but he always felt like he was looking for someone every time he went out. All most each time he came out of his ‘office’ you would always find a way to lock eyes with him or even strike up a conversation and each time he’d always let his rough exterior fall and shoot you a small smile.

🕸 Normally in his free time you’d always be with him eating Empanadas or Arepas in the kitchen, working in silence next to each other, checking up on you daily and slightly leaning into your touch whenever you’d accidentally bump into him. Miguel even gave you special authorisation with Lyla that no one but him had.

🕸 It was when Lyla alerted him that you were severely hurt after a mission gone horribly wrong he quickly dropped everything and rushed over and into your dimension. You were bloody and bruised, sitting on your living room floor panting and exhausted. Miguel’s heart dropped for a second,at the thought of loosing you he’s reminded of how his daughter hung onto him before she disappeared.

“Mierda! What happened?” he panicked as he bolted over to the medical kit you kept under your bed. He knew where everything was in your house, he crashed many times to your place durning restless, nightmare filled nights. He fumbled a bit as he grabbed it, hurriedly making it back to you making sure he didn’t knock anything over. Without hesitance he started to rip your suit off to get more access around the wounds.

“Buy me a drink first.” you chuckled weakly as you watched him furrow his brows as he started to disinfect the gash in your thigh.

“You only need one drink to sleep with me?” he joked as he to reach over to grab the needle and stitches, rubbing your leg gently with his other hand. He knew he had to ask what had happened but he decided against it just in case you would start stressing out more, although this didn’t stop him seething with rage every time he saw your bruised and cut face.

“Cielo this going to hurt.” he apologetically looked at you before he started to close the wound, with every painful noise you let out his heart broke just a little more, reminding him yet again how in his daughters final moments she was also making those noises. It didn’t take him long before he was finished, putting away all the medical equipment he made Lyla scan you for any internal damage. It turned out you had a concussion but apart from that you were somewhat ‘okay’.

“You should probably wash yourself.” Lyla chimed in, looking closely at your body before turning around to wink at Miguel. He scoffed in annoyance and swatted her away. She always enjoyed pushing her limits with him.

“Come let’s get you cleaned up.” blush crept up on your cheeks as he bent down and picked you up bridle style, trying his hardest to not touch any bruises as he gripped onto you harshly. He swiftly moved around furniture and rooms until he made it to the bathroom, setting you down on the toilet seat before turning to get the bath ready. He stared at the water slowly filling up the tub lost in though, what if he got there sooner, what if you died, what if…? He didn’t know what he’d do if you were no longer by his side, if he didn’t get to hear you again, to feel you again-

“Romeo, you okay?” your teasing words snapped him out of his trance, his head snapped towards you, just blankly meeting your eyes.

“I should be asking you that.” he hummed as he looked you up and down, taking in the way your torn suit stuck to the curves of your body. The way your lips were slightly parted showing your front teeth, the way you looked at him intensely back. He felt like he was under your microscope as you were studying ass his features too.

“Miguel..” you placed your hand on his knee, softly rubbing it. Once he heard you softly whispering his name, touching him so gently he realised just how much he was deeply in love with you, he would’t be able to having you not there in his life.

“Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” Miguel replied as he grabbed your hand intertwining his fingers in yours as he stood up, bringing you up with him. “Also the bath is ready, do you need a drink firs-“

“Shut up.” a light smack to his chest interrupted him, earning a small laugh both of you. Miguel silently asked for permission, waiting for you to allow him to help. You offered him a nod and smile, relaxing your body as he started to strip away the layers from your body, each little touch was like electricity against your skin. It took a while before you were down to nothing. He stayed silent, not letting his eyes wander around your naked form keeping strong eye contact.

He grabbed your hand and helped you into the tub, worried you’d end up slipping and hurting yourself even more, sitting down in the water felt like a blessing against your skin, finally getting all the seat and blood off of your skin was rejuvenating. Miguel felt his heart flutter as he realised how domestic the scene in front of him was, finding comfort in the love and trust you gave him. He walked around searching for your floral scented shampoo and your citric body wash, humming a song quietly to himself. Once he retrieved everything you needed, he passed you the bottles and sat down next to you playing with your hair, watching you intently as you cleaned your blood off of you.

a/n: Cielo - Sky (affectionate nickname) Mierda - Shit . I’ll def be writing more Miguel so whatever nickname he says in spanish is normally what my parents call eachother! The title is taken from this song. Also i just redid my page, hope y’all like it!!!

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intoxicated-chan · 10 months

Note

Miguel O'Hara x f!reader smut request

Our dearest Miguel breaks the headboard during sex. That has for sure happened to him once or twice!! At least it's true in my headcanons!

Tell Me How U Feel

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ You’ve told him many many times that he must watch his strength whenever it comes to sex. It seems Miguel doesn’t like listening.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Tell Me How U Feel” by Black Dresses. Two posts in one day, especially smutty ones. Thanks for reading!! I used Spanishdict so please let me know if there is anything wrong!!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 430

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, p in v, little obsession from Miguel, no prep, fluffy, restraints, hickies, bruising…..

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

“Las cosas que haría por ti.” (The things I would do for you.)

A yelp comes from your lips as you fall back, caught by surprise by the springiness from his bed. You push yourself up on your elbows, you look up at him to see him staring right down at you. The two of you were already nude.

Miguel crawls forward on the bed, he looks over your hickey littered neck and the bruise already forming on your hip. His eyes then came into contact with yours, he stopped when he was on top of you and pushed you back to lay back on the bed.

He takes your arms and moves them upward until your wrists are pushed against the headboard. You can feel the weird substance of Miguel’s webbing retrain your wrists.

His tongue runs over his lips as he grabs your legs, spreading them further. He didn’t tease or give any kind of warning, he slammed right into you.

Miguel let out a growl like sound, his pace quickened immediately which earned more and loud moans from you.

“Quiero todo de ti.” (I want all of you.) Miguel hissed, his hands moving to clutch the headboard as he slammed right into you, over and over again. You can hear the headboard slamming against the wall.

“Te quiero solo para mi.” (I want you to myself only.)

That’s when you heard the crack and your arms fall from the headboard, it makes Miguel stop his moment and click his tongue in annoyance.

“Dammit, Miguel!” You groan, “I just bought this frame!” You look at the damage, carefully moving away from the splinters and broken pieces of the wood, “Seriously?”

“You should’ve bought a better frame.”

“I shouldn’t be buying more frames if someone could watch their strength.” You retort, “Untie me.” You sit up and push your tied wrist to him.

He grabs your wrists, “No puedo controlarme cuando estoy contigo.” (I can’t control myself when I’m with you.) He uses his claws to pry off the webbing.

“Great! Now I have to get a new frame.” You get up from bed and gather your clothes.

“Where are you going?” Miguel asked, grabbing his clothes and putting them on when he’s following you out the door.

You manage to put on your clothes, “To buy a new frame.” You grab your keys and put on your shoes.

“Can’t that wait?” But Miguel doesn’t follow you when he steps out the door.

“No.” And you shut the door, off to buy a new frame. You leave Miguel feeling frustrated.

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sillyblues · 10 months

Text

𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you overhear a couple of spider-people talking about you and miguel

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by a scene of a drama i saw in tiktok at 11:30 pm whoops here’s a small scenario while i work on that hiding pregnancy with miguel fic

part 2

You hummed to yourself as you walked towards Miguel’s room. You were so excited to talk to him about how your days went and if you were lucky, maybe you’d get to hear how his day went as well. It wasn’t like he doesn’t talk about himself, of course he does, you two were practically the bestest of friends now. It’s just that nowadays, he seemed more stressed and preferred to listen to you talk. Or at least you hoped so. He never really complained each time you rambled his ears off (which was like 83790134 times a day oops).

But a mention of your name in a hushed conversation stops your tracks.

“... [Name] is pretty close to Miguel, huh?” the conversation was actually a bit far from where you stood but thanks to your extreme superhearing, you were able to hear what they were talking about. You tilted your head. I wonder why they’re talking about me…

“Nah, I don’t think so. Miguel doesn’t even seem to like them.” You grumbled under your breath. That’s just what it looked like to others. They didn’t know that you know Miguel’s favourite empanadas are the ones sold by a Mexican granny on a stand right around the corner outside the building. They didn’t know that Miguel actually remembers what you say to him and even reacts to your stories. If that isn’t what you call friends in their natural behaviour, you don’t know what to call it.

“Yeah, it’s probably because they never stop talking. Their mouth just never know how to close for at least 10 minutes.”

“Miguel is probably annoyed at them. I wonder how he manages to keep his patience from running out with them.”

You bit your lip. Yeah, they were right…You admit that you talk a lot and you do feel a bit bad about it. But your friends haven’t told you to stop talking or that you were bothering them yet so you thought it was fine with them. If your friends said something about it, you would definitely stop and try to talk less for them. You were sure your friends would say something if they were uncomfortable, especially Miguel. You believe in them and you believe in him.

“I know right! If I was him, I would…” so you took a step forward and continued to walk towards your destination. Only this time, you weren’t humming.

“Hi, Miguel! Good afternoon! Such a lovely day, isn’t it?” you quirked up immediately as soon as you stepped foot into his office. As usual, he was on top of his floating station. Most of the time, he worked on planning and storing files with Lyla about which planets had been reported with anomalies. Sometimes, he watched videos of his daughter Gabriella and himself despite having already seen them countless times.

Miguel was lonely. You could see that. Sure, he had Jess and Hobie and Peter, but Jess was pregnant, Hobie was busy fighting against the government and being cool, and Peter had Mayday. You try your best to be with him because maybe he would feel less lonely with you around for him. Maybe he would be distracted by whatever you say from his exhaustion and his pain.

You swung yourself and landed on his platform. He was standing with multiple yellow screens hovered almost around him. His hands were on his waist and there was a glare on his face as he stared at it. He gave you a brief glance before turning his attention back to his work. Well, looks like today is a busy work day for him, huh.

“Hey booo,” Lyla appeared in front of you and waved. You grinned at her. “Hey, Lyla! What’s up?”

“Ugh nothing much, except for Mr. O’hara on his red flood apparently.” She leaned and covered the side of her lips to whisper but it was no use to the said person with his abilities.

“I heard that.” His exasperated response was instant but he didn’t look away from the screen.

“Really? You did?” She asked with a higher and tightened voice with amusement. She then flashed a quick message to you.

Miguel has been working even after you left three days ago. He wouldn’t take a rest no matter how many times I told him.

What? You looked at the back of his head in alarm. Worry immediately settled in your head and you furrowed your brows. Before you could convince him to stop, Lyla quickly made the message disappear and announced, “Oops, my power is running low. Gotta charge them now, byeeee.”

“I literally just checked your levels yesterday. Come back here—” he was cut off by her disappearing form.

He groaned and in his frustration, he swapped away the nearby items on the table. Most of them were papers but unfortunately, he didn’t notice he also swept away the teddy bear that you gifted him. It was similar to one Gabriella had and you knew this from the videos you watched with him. You thought how nice it would be to have at least a physical reminder of your love and not just ones you can see and hear.

“I’ll get it, don’t worry!”

From his strength, the bear was flung high and without even thinking you walked backwards as you focused on its direction. You were being stupid because you forgot that you were on top of a floating platform and the floor wasn’t endless. The bear was almost near within your reach and with just one more step, you would be able to get it.

That one more step didn’t step on any solid floor but instead on air and so, you fell but not without the teddy bear in your hands.

“[Name]!” Miguel shouted and you looked at him and finally, he was looking at you now. He ran at your falling figure with arms reaching out to you and for a second, you thought there was a tinge of panic and desperation laced in his hoarse voice and wide eyes.

Sticky web was shot at your chest and you were quickly pulled towards him. You were hit against his figure and he caught you in his arms. You stilled and flushed, your ear was pressed against his chest and you could hear his roaring heart that beat so fast. He immediately shook you by your shoulders and yelled at you. “What were you thinking? Why weren’t you looking?”

“I mean, I was trying to catch it—” you flinched.

“Are you stupid? ¿y si te lastimas?” his nails were digging into your skin and his grip was beginning to hurt. You tried to laugh but came it off weakly.

“I just don’t want to see my gift get dirty. Besides, I’m fine—,” you tried to joke, hoping it would ease the tension and calm him down.

“Just shut up! Shut up!” he pushed you away with a growl, “Stop being so fucking reckless. I could have done it by myself. Stop annoying other people by doing stupid shit like this!”

He was breathing heavily, anger so deep in his eyes. Your eyes were wide and tears threatened to fall as you listened until it finally fell once he said his final word. Maybe the realization had finally settled in Miguel’s mind at what he had just said. His eyes widened in panic and reached out to you but you took a step back.

Your head hung low as you let his words sink in. Annoying? You couldn't even laugh bitterly like you usually do in situations like this. They were right. You were annoying him. You bit your lip. Had you been a bother to him all this time? How come Miguel never said anything?

Suddenly, his cold indifference to you was so clear and obvious now. Memories of him visibly annoyed with a frown flashed through your head. The sudden awareness made your head hurt and it burned your heart. It throbbed with a pang and you felt incapable of breathing, the pain overwhelming.

No, Miguel wasn't responsible for telling you this. You should've known better, you called yourself his “bestest friend”. You shouldn't have talked to him. You shouldn't have approached him in the first place.

You were annoying. You were a nuisance. You were a problem.

Stupid. Stupidstupidstupidstupid—

“[Name], I,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn't mean—”

“No, it's fine,” you wiped your tears and pressed the teddy bear you gifted him and wanted to catch for him. You wonder if this bear was also a bother for him. Maybe it was. Everything related to you is irritating. You were tiresome. “I should be the one to say that. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go now. I’m really sorry, again.” With a brief glance at him, you immediately turned around and swung down. You almost ran as you made your exit from his office. You did the know where exactly to go, only anywhere without him and far away from him. Strength had left you once you were outside his office and you walked and walked and walked.

Maybe if you left, nobody would find you annoying anymore.

#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐#spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv angst

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bensolosbluesaber · 11 months

Text

Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending

A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.

EDIT: Part 2

A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger. For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.

He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.

You shot out another web. It caught a window, and you took a sharp corner then another trying to lose the hunter.

Seventy seconds until you could safely open another portal. Well safe was a relative measure. Ideally you would allow a full day between jumps, but if you only had twelve hours, well then odds of survival rose to about fifty-fifty. Anything less than twelve hours and implosion was basically guaranteed.

Sixty-eight. You extended your legs for more momentum, rolled in the air, shot out two webs and used them to zip forward. Sixty-two. 2099 was fast, faster than you. You didn’t dare to look back to see if he was still in pursuit.

He protected the multiverse, kept it from collapsing in on itself, and you put the entire web of connection at risk just by being alive outside of your universe. You didn’t begrudge 2099 for what he thought he had to do. Maybe it was true that your presence could cause a universe to collapse, but you were careful not to stay for too long, not to interact with the Spider of that universe, not to fight any super-villains. If he could just understand that you were careful, that you didn’t want a multiversal collapse anymore than he did, maybe he would be reasonable.

Then again, maybe not. He was relentless, and from what little you had heard of Spider-Man 2099, he wasn’t one for talk and negotiation.

Fifty-five. You dived down, shot another web, swung again. You could never go back to your world’s boundless emptiness and not another living soul. That thought kept your exhausted muscles working. Fifty. The void was all that remained of your collapsed universe, a void in which you could not die but where no one else could live.

Forty-eight. Forty seven. This block was all future, half-built apartment buildings.

Thirty. You’d long ago lost your suit. All that remained was the mask that obscured your face. You must look ridiculous swinging around in stolen street-clothes: a baggy sweatshirt, leggings, dirty sneakers.

Twenty-one. Nearly there. Just a few-

A solid mass of muscle stole the breath from your lungs and flattened you into a cement wall. Claws shattered the cement beside your head into a fine gray powder. A hand closed around your throat, and you were crushed between the blue and red clad Spider-Man and the wall.

He was pure muscle. This was the closest you’d ever been to 2099, and his sheer size was terrifying. The red lines on his mask narrowed with his eyes as he studied you.

Eighteen. You pushed at his broad chest, struggling desperately to fight him off, but he was enhanced too and probably well-fed and rested - two things you were not.

“Stop fighting me,” 2099 growled into your ear, his voice a deep rumble that you felt in his chest.

“I won’t go back.” You choked out the words while you planted a knee against him and tried to kick him away. Your efforts were utterly useless. Quite literally, you could feel muscles rippling across his chest and arms as he held you against the wall while you trid to wriggle free.

In the corner of your eye, you watched the red numbers tick down. Six. Five. Was it even possible? It had to be.

2099 brought you forward then slammed you into the wall again. The impact made your head spin. The red lines of his mask doubled and tripled. He was trying to get something around your wrist.

“Hold still!”

Two.

With the last vestige of strength left in your body, you brought a hand to his face and shot a wad of webbing at his eyes. He growled and stopped his attempt to hand-cuff you - or whatever he was doing - to wipe the webbing away. For a second he was distracted. You imagined the glowing golden portal. Closed your eyes. Energy sparked in your body, coursed through your veins and arm. You shot a web at the wall behind you. It shimmered gold, dim gold, but still gold.

There was a moment where you thought it hadn't worked. Then the wall crumbled away and you felt wind whip you backward as a bright gold light filled the space. 2099 reached for you, claws extended. Four knife-like talons dug into your shoulder, ripping through the ratty sweater, digging into your skin, and tearing four long bloody stripes into your flesh as the portal drug you away..

You planted both feet on his stomach and kicked him off. A bright red web shot out from 2099’s hand to tangle in a tree. The last thing you saw was 2099 falling then catching himself before you tumbled away from him and toward a new universe.

It was raining on this new Earth. Actually, ‘raining’ was a bit of an understatement. It was absolutely pouring, and you were soaked before you hit the ground. Hard.

You hadn't been as focused as you needed to be, and the portal had opened in the sky and dropped you ten feet to the roof of a towering building in some universe’s version of New York. You couldn’t tear the mask from your face quick enough as you gasped desperately for air. 2099 was strong, and he’d smashed you half a foot into solid cement.

Your ribs ached. So did your head for that matter. But it was the dull ache spreading across your shoulder, down your arm, and seeping through your muscles like liquid fire that really made you afraid.

The gray of your stolen sweater was soaked in crimson blood. Carefully, you pushed the stained fabric over your shoulder.

Shit. Shit!

Beneath the torn fabric, your skin glowed a sickly, dare you say radioactive red - the same red as 2099’s suit. His talons must have been poisoned, and now that poison was making it’s way through your body, causing unknown damage and immense pain. There had to be a lab on this Earth. Right? If you could only get there, you were smart enough to whip up an antidote.

But as you stood, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. The poison was potent and fast-acting. Insanely, you wondered if it was really poison or if you should be calling it venom. It didn’t matter, because a moment after gaining your feet, your legs failed. You careened forward and nearly smashed your head again, only just catching yourself before slowly laying down in the rainwater.

City lights sparkled in the distance and reflected in the puddle forming around your head. Purple and blues and few bright yellows. Not a bad view if this was how you died. If only the poison weren’t so painful. You wanted to scream, but you lacked the strength.

A familiar tingle shot across your spine a second before the bright gold light of a portal obscured the reflection of the city lights. No! He was so close when you jumped universe’s. He must have tracked you; no wonder he hadn't bothered to chase you through the portal.

You scrambled backwards weakly, your feet struggling for purchase on the slick roof as the broad shouldered man appeared. He was wreathed in gold light. You couldn’t jump again, couldn’t even stand, could barely drag your body through the rain as Spider-Man 2099 strode closer.

“Nowhere to run,” he said. His voice was flat, like he took no pleasure in finally having you trapped.

“I won’t go back!” You tried to sound tough, strong, but your voice cracked over the words. “There’s nothing there. I can’t. I’d rather die than- than go back to nothing. 2099, don’t send me back”

Your fingers felt the ledge of the building and empty air beyond it. Poison. Fall. The clawed Spider-Man. A slow descent into madness trapped in the empty and endless remains of your home universe. A fall seemed fastest. But you didn’t want to. You were scared. You didn’t really want to die. Your shoulder throbbed and head filled with fog. The skin was glowing such a bright red you could see it in the corner of your eye.

In the brief moment you hesitated, he was on you. 2099’s red webs wrapped around your chest, and he yanked you forward and away from the ledge. You crumpled at his feet, and he just stared down at you through that mask. His blue and red mask swam in your vision as you stared up at him. Was it the rain that was so cold? Or was it the poison? No, venom. Poison? Venom?

2099’s face got bigger as he knelt beside you.

“What is this?” He pulled at the torn sweater, his gaze falling on the bright red mottling your skin.

Miguel O’Hara had never seen his claws damage anyone like this. There was no venom in them… unless in whatever universe you had come from something about them was venomous. It was possible. His fangs were venomous, that he did know.

Miguel pulled off his mask, the adrenaline of the chase fading while he watched you struggle for life. He’d meant to stop you, take you back to base, figure out where you’d come from… not kill you. He ran his tongue over one of the fangs protruding from his mouth.

The next thing you knew, 2099 was sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap. It might have all been a dream, you couldn’t tell. The lights were so beautiful. Your head lolled to one side, your whole body limp as a ragdoll in his muscular arms. His face filled your vision and blocked out the pretty lights.

He had a strong jawline, dark curls, sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and were those fangs? And were his eyes glowing red? Yes, two orbs as red as the suit and your poisoned skin shone down at you. He was pretty too. This had to be a dream. The monster chasing you couldn’t be so handsome. You blinked, eyes unfocused. Your Spidey-sense was going wild, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. 2099 was warm, and you could go to sleep right here.

He shifted your body again so your side was pressed against his chest. “2099,” you whispered weakly, pathetically.

“I’m sorry for this,” he whispered in that low growl. Now it was tinged with what almost sounded like real regret. “It’s the best I can think of.”

He guided your head to rest in the curve of his shoulder, face turned toward his neck. One hand brushed hair away from your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. His fingers were no longer clawed, and his movements were gentle as he held you close, muscles tensing underneath your body. The expression on his face was tender. It seemed impossible that this was the same man who had made you his prey for months.

“Don’t panic now,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to your neck. “Stay still.”

You were barely aware of what was happening. His lips were warm, then four sharp pricks stung the base of your neck just above your collarbone and the deep poisoned wounds. Panic tried to rise in your throat, but you weren’t conscious enough to really process that a man currently had his fangs sunk into your throat. He drew back and spit out bright red poison, then bit into you again. Then again. And again.

Miguel was exceptionally careful with you, holding you perfectly still and being sure to sink his fangs into the same spot each time so as not to mark your skin any more than necessary.

Slowly, the world began coming back into focus. You were exhausted, but the poison was being was successfully being leeched from your system by his fangs. Brown curls were the first thing you became aware of, then the almost unnatural warmth coming from the man beneath you, then the cold pricks on rain on your back, then... then that something was biting you. Before you could wrench your head back, a large hand cradled the back of your head. You desperately tried to struggle as you realized what this vampiric Spider-Man was doing to you. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held your head still.

2099 pulled his fangs from your neck, spit bright red then let go of your head. You sat up quickly. The movement made you dizzy.

“I know you’re scared.” Miguel could see the fear in your eyes. He nodded to your still glowing shoulder. It was dimmer now and hurt less, but it was still obvious poisoned. “But this is working. Let me help you.”

You were looking him right in the eyes, the glowing red eyes, and though you didn’t trust him, you knew instinctively he was right.

“Okay,” you breathed lowly.

You laid your head on his shoulder. Miguel could feel how your whole body trembled, but whether it was from fear or cold or something else entirely he couldn’t tell. When his lips touched your skin you whimpered. That was fear.

Miguel still had one arm around you, but he took your hand in his free one, interlaced your fingers, and squeezed once. Then he sunk his fangs into your neck. It stung a bit but didn’t really hurt. Now that your were conscious, you could feel the poison being drawn toward the spot where his mouth connected to your skin. That didn’t really hurt either. It was like stretching a sore muscle - a satisfying pain that ultimately brought relief.

2099 drew back to spit out his poison. When was the last time you’d touched someone like this? A touch that was more than an accidental brush in the street - or a purposeful one so you could steal someone’s wallet. 2099 was your enemy, your hunter. He was dangerous. But he was saving your life and holding you so tenderly it made your chest ache.

“Once more,” he promised.

His fangs brushed over your skin for the last time. You pulled your hand from his and splayed your fingers across his chest. 2099 brought his now free hand to your poisoned shoulder and pushed the ripped fabric apart.

Miguel watched the last of the poison be pulled from your veins as it filled his mouth. He spit it out then turned back to study how your body was pressed against him.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. Then panic hit and you jerked back, still sitting on his lap but with your face now safely away from his fangs. “You- you’re going to send me back. 2099, please don’t.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Miguel.”

Miguel. 2099 had a name. Of course he did, but hearing it made him seem so human. And his face was handsome. That was no venom or poison induced hallucination. The man was beautiful.

“And no. Not yet.”

“My universe collapsed. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

His red eyes softened as they met yours.

“We won’t send you back to an empty universe,” he paused, and one side of his lips twitched up. “You ran because you thought I’d send you back to a void? I see I have quite the reputation.”

Miguel lifted you to your feet easily. He set you on your feet and tapped the watch-like contraption on his wrist. You leaned against his muscled chest for stability. Even without his poison, you were still wounded and tired and malnourished. A portal spiraled out in front of you both.

“You promise not to send me back there?” You looked up at Miguel. He squinted at the portal’s bright light and tugged the mask back over his face.

“Promise.”

To be continued...

Part 2

A/N: Part 2 will be a little time jump, and we’ll actually see Miguel and reader get into a relationship!

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11vr1 · 11 months

Text

Been Away ⭒ Miles Morales

Synopsis › You were tired of his secrets and lies, so you did the one thing you promised you’d never do and walked away. But Miles Morales wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Inspo › “Been Away” - Brent Faiyaz

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, Angst, the tiniest bit of fluff, pet names, spanish, a microscopic amount of manipulation, toxicity, going back to your ex, stalking, harassment, mentions being mugged, mentions being stabbed, mentions the police

P.S. › I do my best work when I’m sleep deprived.

P.S.S. › Reading comments and reblogs really make my day, even if you’re telling me my commas suck. Requests are also open.

Y/n pulled down the sleeves of her crocheted sweater as she stepped out of the bodega, white plastic bag of chips and candy in hand. The sun was close to setting behind skyscrapers and plunging New York City into its usual state of terror. It was dangerous to be alone on the streets, but Y/n figured she’d be fine walking a few blocks to her friend’s place. She pushed through sidewalk traffic, passing others who were just as eager to be safe in their homes.

Her phone chimed with a text.

Unknown: Turn left.

She paused, looking up to scan her surroundings. There was nothing strange or out of place. Just stores closing up for the night and people minding their own business. Despite how normal everything seemed to be, Y/n knew better. She spared a glance at the alley to her left, immediately deciding against it and kept walking.

Another chime. She ignored it and the next. Stopping wasn’t worth possibly ending up on the eleven o’clock news. At least that’s what she told herself. The less rational part of her mind had a thought. In some ways more terrifying than being mugged.

Tucked away in her pocket, her phone rang. This time she checked. Unknown. Y/n scoffed, rejecting the call.

Unknown: One more chance.

Unknown: Take a left.

Unknown: I won’t ask again.

Her phone rang once more. With a long, begrudging sigh Y/n swiped to accept. “I thought you weren’t going to ask again,” she said, her eyes darting warily to the darkening street.

“Make a left, Y/n,” a deep distorted voice ordered from the other line. Her heart dropped. Maybe the irrational part of her brain wasn’t as off kilter as she thought. The call hung up like she didn’t need anymore convincing.

The yawning mouth of an alley stared back at her. She took a calming breath, inhaling the morning rain before stepping away from any potential witnesses. Her footsteps echoed in the eerie silence of the alley. Her skin heated in either fear or anticipation, she didn’t know. “I don’t have all night,” she spoke into the open air. “I will leave.” Y/n attempted to hide the tremble in her throat.

Her ringtone was shrill in the alley. She jumped. The bright smiling photo of her friend illuminated her face. She did not hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“Thank god! You’re still alive. Are you close?”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, Ellie,” Y/n began to exit the alley. “The bodega line was long.” She rustled her haul of snacks.

“It’s getting dark. I can send my brother to meet you. Ya know he’s always had a bit of a thing for you and now that you’re single…” Ellie trailed off. Y/n could practically hear her smile.

She rolled her eyes, laughing nervously, “You don’t have to make him come get me. I’ll be—” She was cut off by her own scream ripping from her throat. A streak of darkness and neon flashed in front of her, swiping the phone from her hand. Her grocery bag tumbled to the concrete as she stumbled over her heels. Cold metal met her back. A well defined arm snaked around her waist, held her impossibly tight.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Her friend’s voice rose over the speakers.

The smooth phone screen pressed against her cheek. “Tell her you’re okay then hang up,” the same warped voice demanded in her ear.

Y/n felt her lips move before he ended the call. Some quick lie about a monstrous rat. Blood thrummed through her skull along with her ragged breaths.

“Let me go!” Y/n wrestling out of his grip with no resistance, finally turning around. She halted. Pixelated eyes narrowed at her. What had she been expecting? Was a mask better?

Getting slashed for the money in her wallet and being left for dead by a dumpster was starting to sound more appealing than her current situation.

Mechanic panels whirred and parted open. Rich, penetrating dark eyes took in every inch of the girl in front of him, peeling back layer after layer in that calculating glare Y/n knew all too well. “Hola, mami.”

She hoped to never hear that name fall from anyone’s lips. Much less his. Y/n allowed a selfish moment to let her gaze wander. His braids were fresh, obviously not her work. Fade clean. Jay’s untied. Bronze skin annoyingly flawless. He was the same, except for the faint bags decorating his eyes. His chuckle bounced off the brick walls, catching her. It was sobering.

“You have one minute, Morales. One minute before I run screaming and call the feds on your ass,” she crossed her arms.

“Morales?” Miles raised an eyebrow. “Damn. Is that what we doin’ now?”

“Fifty.”

He circled her like the predator he was, each footstep deafening. “You look good, ma. Where you goin’ so late? It’s not safe.”

“You know where! You’ve been following me, remember? How long have you been doing that for? Just another secret, huh?” Y/n was on the verge of yelling, her initial fear replaced by pure rage. “You’re not even going to deny it.”

Miles dared a step forward. Y/n took two back. “You’re afraid of me.” Her lack of an answer was a shattering confirmation.

“I’m afraid of what you do, Miles,” she motioned to his suit, the spray painted insignia physically painful to see on his chest. The Prowler. She would have never fathomed the possibility if she hadn’t seen him in action herself. “You’re a criminal. You steal. You’ve killed people,” she choked trying to swallow back tears.

He dragged a gloved hand down his face. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right! I don’t get it. You changed and I don’t understand why.” Her waterline welled. Three months of suppressed feelings threatened to rear their ugly heads when he was near. Because of him, of course.

It was ironic how much he made her feel, even now. Ellie, other friends, Y/n’s family never fully warmed up to Miles. He was unfeeling, nonchalant, closed off. They couldn’t see how a girl like her could fall for him and stay. At least that’s the promise she made.

“So did you. You walked away. Left me. What happened to our forever, Y/n?”

“You expected nothing to change? In what world would I not react or feel some typa way?” She tensed. Another wave of anger seared through her veins. How dare he turn this on her? “Oh wait,” her laugh was humorless. “I was never supposed to find out.”

“I have to do this. The world ain’t right and I need to protect the people I care about,” he placed a hand over his armor, over his chest. “I couldn’t do shit about my dad, but you…” He stalked closer. This time she didn’t back away.

Miles grasped her hand, placing it over his heart. She couldn’t face his intensity for too long, not without air. He wore the same musky cologne she gifted him for Christmas.“Mirame,” he tilted her delicate face towards him. “Mi corazón, I can keep you safe. You gotta let me. If something happened to you I don’t know what I would do.” His chiseled features twisted, barely able to utter the words. He finally closed the space between them, resting his forehead against hers.

“One minute,” Y/n whispered. It had been more than one minute.

Without separating, he slowly slipped her phone into her back pocket, letting his fingers linger by the waist of her jeans. “Call them. I’ll stay right here and you can end this. You’ll never have to see me again. Prometo, mi corazón.”

She should have listened when Ellie told her to stay away. Undeniably gorgeous, genius level intellect, sexy accent. There was always a catch, she said. She was right. But there was one drawback not even her best friend predicted.

Y/n pulled away. Suddenly the autumn air was too chilly through her sweater. She unlocked her phone. Typed 9-1-1. She looked up through her lashes at Miles as if he would melt into the shadows and escape. She didn’t expect sheer defeat to paint his face, unhidden behind his usual mask of indifference. Her thumb froze.

Miles Morales had Y/n entranced. He’d woven himself into her being, hollowed out a space in her soul just for him. Those titanium claws were in deep and she didn’t know if she had the strength to pry them out or wanted to.

Y/n pocketed her phone. She resigned to every emotion she harbored for the boy in front of her. She chose every wrong decision. “Go, Miles.”

His grin was smug. “Should I call you?”

“Don’t push it, Morales.” He draped his arms around her shoulders, dragged her into his warmth. “I’ll unblock you. Sound good?”

Miles angled his head. His smile stretched to his eyes, showing those rarely seen dimples. “Sí, mami. Whatever you want.”

#iivri writes ˚·⊹ ⟢˖∿#spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse spoilers #spiderman #miles morales #prowler miles #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #angst #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman angst #spiderman fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #Spotify

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kur0m1sblog · 11 months

Note

If you are okay with writing this, do you think you can write a Miguel x F!Reader (whose a Spider) oneshot where Miguel finds out the reader is pregnant due to his hearing, and the reader reveals she kept it a secret because she didn’t know how to tell him.

Not Meant To Hear Yet.

summary: Miguel had came back from a meeting with the spider-society and overheard you panicking in you’re shared bathroom. He continued to overheard something he wasn’t meant to hear yet…

characters: Miguel O’Hara. Jessica Drew.

warnings: crying. reader having a panic attack. angst. implied smut. little love confession.

genre: angst. romance. fluff.

reader: fem! spider-woman! reader

REQUEST ARE OPEN!

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

This was not what you wanted to happen, you didn’t want a to have a child this young. You were 24, your boyfriend of 4 years, 27. And a couple months ago, you’d found out you were pregnant. At first you didn’t believe it, until all the test you took all came back positive. You didn’t want this, well you did want a child, just not this early..

And how were you going to tell Miguel this, you were sure he wouldn’t take the news good. You’d thought at the time you were for sure on the birth control..

He was at a ‘meeting’ with some members from the spider-society while you decided on staying home. After he left you did your normal routine, house chores, out chores. Miguel always insisted that you didn’t have to do that whenever you stayed home, he didn’t want you to be worked up and more tired then you normally should.

After your ‘chores’, you rush to your shared bedroom that was up the stairs. Dialing your phone, you call Jessica. She answers in a calm tone, while you answer in a worried tone. “Hey are you okay? What is it you need help with? You seem worried..” She said, a version of her showing up infront of you, she was on her motorcycle on a street in her universe.

You clack your nail repeatedly on the counter repeatedly, deciding to tell her what happened once she’d stop at a light. “Okay don’t get to excited or anything since your riding your motorcycle, but.. I’m pregnant..” You say waiting for her response and reaction.

As Jessica sat at the light, she started asking you a dozens of questions, “Do you know the gender yet?”, “Top 5 names if it’s a girl or boy?”, “Does Miguel even know yet?” You didn’t say anything after that question. Just from a minute of silence, she knew you hadn’t. “You haven’t told him have you..?”

Miguel had teleported into the house, he took his costume off and replaced them with comfortable clothing he’d left from the previous night before on the couch, while doing so, he heard you talking to someone. He figured it was important so he shrugged it off and started taking the ingredients out for dinner you were going to be cooking on this bittersweet night. “I just don’t know how to tell him that there’s a baby on the way.” He paused his movements. Had you just said what you said was truly real. It seemed seemed specious, but it wasn’t. It was true, real. “I don’t know how he’ll take the news, I want him to be happy about it and all but, what if he’s not, what if he’s angry about it..” That made him feel egregious and compunctioned. You thought he wouldn’t react well or good to the news..? He frowned and sat on the couch, still ‘eavesdropping’, but not on purpose of course.

After the conversation you had with Jessica, you pranced down the stairs to see Miguel on the couch, you froze halfway on the stairs panicking, you hoped he didn’t hear that whole conversation with her, and that he’d just gotten home. You continued your way down the stairs, he looked up to see you. God, he thought you looked so seraphic. “Hello Mi Rey, how was your day?” You say as you walk up to him and give him a sweet kiss onto of his forehead, after you ran your hands through his hair and smiled sweetly at him.

It took him a second or more to respond to your daily question, “It was good baby, do you feel okay right now? Your red..” He says. He knew what he was doing, he already knew what happened now.

You look in his eyes, look down and chuckle. “Yes dear I’m fine, I’m going to start dinner now.” Kissing his cheek, you walk to the kitchen to see he put what you needed out. “Aww, thanks for putting everything out, thank my hombre guapo. Would you like to help me with dinner tonight?” You say peaking your head out of the kitchen into the living room.

He stands up and walks over to you, “Only if that means we can play music?” He says as his large hands wrap around the small of your back and butt. Whenever he meant “play music”, he meant while the food was cooking and the both of you had time to waste to dance around in the kitchen and plant gentle kisses on one another.

You look to the side and frown for a second, debating your words of choice. “Miguel?” You say looking up at him.

After you just saying his name, he got quite worried. “What is it mi amor?” He said looking deep into your eyes.

“Whatever happens, I just hope you know I love you, so so much.. Your the best thing that’s ever happened to me..” You say, feeling different waves of emotions coming over you.

He was surprised. He thought that something bad was going to happen, but surprisingly it wasn’t anything bad. You were having one of your moments where you just wanted to say that you loved him. “God I love you too y/n..” He says shoving you into his broad chest.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

After making dinner the both of you sat down at the table, across from eachother. It was quiet, that weirded you out a little, he was always the one to start a conversation at the table..

You clear your throat and look up at him, “Soooo, did anything interesting happen with them today?” You say, taking another sip of your soup. Your mind was racing with random question and things you had to finish after eating.

He looked up, didn’t say anything, until a couple moments later. “Nope not really.. But there is something I’d like to talk about with you.” He said in a significant tone, as he pushed his soup bowl to the side, with his glass of water.

You took note of this, his tone was never like this unless there was something wrong or serious we needed to talk about. “Okay…” You drag out as you do the same gesture as him, pushing your glass and bowl out of the way.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant..?” He asked. His shoulders were tense, as he stood properly in his chair.

Oh god, he knows..? But how, that shouldn’t have been unless he heard me upstairs, is that why he was so tense when I came down the stairs.. “Look Miguel, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how to break the news to you.” You felt a sense of compunction rush over you. “I didn’t know how you would react, or how you felt about having a child.. I just..” You didn’t finish anything, tears ran down your cheeks, as you didn’t look at him but at the cleared area in front of you on the table.

You didn’t see him, but he got up and started walking towards you. He wrapped his strong and well-knitted arms around you, you cried and cried in his chest. You felt horrible, you were gasping for air at this point from crying.

He let go of you and took your flushed face in his hands. “Look Hermosa, I’m not angry, I’m just a little sad that you’d think I’d feel that way. I’m happy that you are okay?” Staring at you, he waited for you to nod. When you did he gave you a kiss, picked you up, and carried you to the bedroom where the both of you would go to sleep. And clean up the both of you made from cooking tomorrow. “Goodnight, Mi Amor.”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

notes: Thank you so much for requesting, I truly hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Have a great morning/afternoon/night!

June 4, 2023

9:30am

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #x reader #m x f #m x f story #fluffy #angst #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #Spider-Man: across the spider verse x you #Spider-Man: across the spider verse x reader #spider man 2099 #Spider-Man 2099 x you

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