#“he's just a cheap miguel” first things first

[hemlock-dreams]

HEMLOCK!!! Have you been playing Dragon Age? You said you'd be MIA because if it. And. Bro. I'm so fucking obsessed with DA. My two biggest obsessions: Dragon Age and Spiderman. If YOU love DA you GOTTA tell me who your favorite character is. And your thoughts on Solas. And Veilguard. And Rook. And Varric. And have you finished the game. And-

I'm sorry I'm so obsessed with this.

Anyway, I want to take your Spidey to freaky town. (What would his reaction be to another Spider popping up? Like Miles or Miguel?)

Yes! Played Veilguard! Been a long time Dragon Age fan, but I don't think that game was quite for me!

In the meantime:

Peter and Miguel would actually make a really good team up.

And because I'm a degenerate at heart: SPICY

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 1 - Home Sick

Okay, let’s start this from the top. Once upon a time and all that shit.

You had somehow, some way, ended up stranded in another universe when you were going toe-to-toe with the Spot that (unfortunately) Mile’s apparently created (unintentionally). Got it? Good.

Now the question is how you got stranded in another universe while fighting the Spot is another shebang that you do not know, and frankly, not your top priority as of right now.

Your mission is finding a way to power your web-watch (no offense but the gizmo name sucks), and either use it to find Miguel, the spider-society, or your very own earth. You honestly weren’t choosy on which option you land, as long as you safely made it out alive and unscathed. 

Speaking of unscathed, which in fact you are not, you quietly swung across many buildings, in the shadows, making sure you were hard to spot. Your dark spider suit being perfect for night patrol is a blessing for the camouflage it provides you in this god forsaken gloomy city.

Now, to get back on track, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to process that you have basically been thrown into a world where in your universe is all but fiction. 

Have you kept up with the comics?

No, of course not. After Aunt May’s passing, you honestly gave up everything and just solely dedicated yourself into fighting crime. Well, you know some things, since Peter was also a mega comic nerd.

He would go on for hours and hours and hours about Batman and his kids (adopted and biological) and whatnot. You didn’t mind, since spending time with a talkative Peter was better than being in your own headspace. If you recall the latest one to come under Batman’s wing was someone named Duke? Well, that’s as far as you remember. 

Regardless, now you're looting someone’s clothing wire. Picking out a thick gray turtleneck and black leggings (thank god) you don them over your suit, making sure nothing was visible. Now the issue is your footwear. Maybe you can get away with it? 

Taking off the mask you were able to stuff it inside your bra (extra pocket, am I right?) while your gloves were hidden among your sleeves. Making sure nothing was out of place you pulled out the wallets of the two petty criminals, counting the money.

“Four-fifty, not bad.” Though you don’t condone your actions, you are in a precarious situation at the moment. Oh well. Tossing one of the wallets away (making sure not to touch it with your fingers), you also placed it inside your bra for safe keeping.

Maybe this would be enough for a motel? How expensive- or cheap are those in Gotham? With how often crimes occur, it shouldn’t be that expensive, right? Regardless, first things first, find a place to eat, find out the date and then a place to stay. Shouldn't be too hard.

Quietly climbing down the side of a complex building, you made sure the coast was clear before heading out. The lack of a jacket made you feel very vulnerable and exposed. Head down and hands to your sides, the cool breeze of the city causes shivers down your spine. “This fucking sucks.” you mumbled, making sure to avoid gothamites as much as possible. 

No time to gawk at your environment when you’re so out of place. You honestly just kept walking around, hearing police sirens and the occasional cop car driving by while you try to not lose your goddamn mind.

Walking around, using back streets and alleys you shiver as the cold nips at your face. It’s not that you’re sensitive to cold, it’s just that you can’t afford to get sick here. In a world where you don’t exist.

“Wait a minute…” thinking back on something, it’s true that you don’t exist here. But that doesn’t mean that a you- doesn’t exist. Maybe somehow there is a version of you or spider-woman here. A far reach but hey, just hours ago, this was all fictional to you. But something worth looking into. 

With a heavy sigh you walk inside an alley, looking up to gauge the time to see- oh, what’s that? Another clothing line! And guess what? It has more clothes to loot! Score! Don’t mind if I do! Finders keepers baby!

And you thought your spider luck was ass.

Discreetly looking around to see for any cameras that can potentially identify you only to come out flat. Perfect. Using the fire escape you parkour to snag a black oversized zip up sweater. 

This would be perfect in covering you even further (and now you have pockets for your mask) and making your figure harder to identify. Now you can start acting like a true gothamite.

With a pep in your step, you exit the alleyway.

Spotting a diner up ahead, settling yourself inside you order your drink of choice and a bagel just to have something to entertain yourself while you calm your nerves.

Sitting down next to a window, taking slow sips and bites from your meal you subtly look around (making a point of subtly ignoring the gaze of the cashier). It seems to be late afternoon, heading to night. Not good, not good at all. 

Besides finding a place to stay, you glance at your wrist, the web watch looking pretty obvious and suspicious out there in the open on your wrist. But, without it, you could perish in this foreign world. Should you pull a Hobie Brown and create a new watch from scratch? No, you don’t have the time, tools, or luxury. Thank god for the hoodie covering it up.

Right now, staying on task is essential. A job, maybe? With what credentials? Hell, you don’t even have an ID. Maybe a fake one? Who would do such a thing for a reasonable price and isn’t a criminal? Another note, you need supplies, enough to build web shooters and the cartridge. Unlike other spiders, you had the ability to shoot webs from your wrist, gross. But (with Peter’s intellect) you ended up also creating webs on your own in case yours fails. And it has- a lot both in comical and crucial times. Peter wouldn’t let you live anything down (god you miss him).

And being in a new world and everything going on, the last thing you need is a web block because of the high anxiety and stress this place is already giving you. You’d rather be safe than sorry. Now, how to get supplies? Stealing them seems easier than working for it. You just don’t have the time. How were you going to steal them, and from where? Who the fuck knows. Probably from a college science room or something.

In order to do even that, you need to find out the layout and what not of this place. So maybe the best place to start is the library? Doesn’t someone from Batman’s little possie work at the library? Can you risk that? Probably.

Fuck, this was going to be harder than it looks. No phone, basically no money (not counting the one you stole from criminals), no ID (or insurance), no place to stay, no allies, ya got nothing. Zip, zero, nada. 

You feel so lost and alone, so vulnerable. And the thoughts in your head are slowly getting louder and louder. Eating away at your insecurities and feelings. God, you’re starting to get homesick. Will you make it back? Will you find a way back home? Is anyone even looking for you?

Last thing you recall was fighting the Spot with Miles, Hobie, Gwen and Pavitr. You remember hopping onto Spot’s back while he was absorbing but then he poof and you along with him. Everything went black for you and then you landed here in this city (ungracefully might I add).

You just want to go home…even if it’s lonely without Uncle Ben, Aunt May and Peter Parker.

You really have nothing, rock bottom, baby. But then again, the only place to go is up, right? 

Sighing you finished your drink and bagel before leaving the diner, making sure to look at the clock above the exit, and aimlessly walking around. Would they let you in one of those shelters? Are those even a thing? Probably, maybe. 

Couldn’t hurt to try. Buuuuut, then again, you need the privacy, so maybe the shelter was a no go. Okay, perfect, back to square fucking zero. A cheap and possibly dangerous motel it is!

Hopefully your spider luck doesn’t fuck you over. You’re honestly thankful for not coming across any batsonas and whatnot. And you were able to get clothes so you say you’re two for two.

After looking around for some time, emphasis on some, you managed to find a motel and get yourself settled. No ID required, just cash, and you internally sobbed at the remaining funds you had left. You really will need a job or a sustainable income.

“Are underground rings still a thing? Is it a thing here?” You mumbled, discarding your stolen clothes before fiddling with your watch until its screen flashes before abruptly turning dark again. “Well now, how fucked am I?” A deep sigh resonated in the empty room. Hopefully while it turned on, Miguel would somehow by some god given miracle (or your spider luck but don’t bank on it) that he received at least a signal, no matter how microscopic it is.

You had to get home. At all costs. This place isn’t your home. It’s not like you should play by the rules. But, Ben, May, and Peter would be so disappointed in you if you break laws just to return to your home universe. And if you’re being truthful, it wouldn’t sit right with you either…

But Miles needs you. 

If this world doesn’t have a- you in it, then you aren’t needed here. So you shouldn’t waste time twiddling your thumbs. Maybe you really do need to break into a computer lab to see what’s up with your watch or scavenge for parts. Hobie built it with parts from Miguel’s earth. Meaning, you can too, with whatever scraps you can find.

You’ll prioritize your watch first, then this city. It’s unfortunate, but you really have to get back home, and you can’t let your feelings get in the way and distract you.

Maybe you should call it a night? Figure things out in the morning? A yawn takes over your thoughts. “Yea, sleep sounds really good right now.” 

These problems are for tomorrow’s you. For now, you’ll catch some Zzz’s and flesh out a detailed plan on how to get back home. 

You’re banking on hacking a computer at the library despite the risks. Shooting a web at the door to prevent any possible and/or unwanted inconveniences because let’s be honest, trust no one but yourself, especially in this bat(ha)shit crazy world, better to be safe than sorry. You need your sanity to fix or at least charge your watch in order to get back home.

“Ben, May, Peter- give me strength.” and into dreamland you go.

-

“Hey B, come look at this.” A female voice spoke out, catching the attention of the adult in the cave. “I got something to show you. I got a trace of a disruption- but it happened quickly and only once.”

“Where.” A gruff and stern voice asked.

“Around the East End.”

“I’ll let Selina know.”

“Should I get someone to look into it?”

“No, I’ll do it myself.”

With that, silence once again enveloped the Bat cave as Batman stepped out.

Prev; Next;

I'll be honest, I have no outline of where I want this story to go, this is just brainrot hour for me. Less go. A very high chance this will soon turn into somewhat of "yandere" but it's mostly just them being "possessive" honestly. Slooow burn. This was the last thing i had typed up, and I have no clue where I will drive this story, oops.

[wolfsclothing6]

Weight of Desire

2k special

Gabriel Sanchez had spent years living a life that felt perfectly adequate but deeply unremarkable. Middle management at a tech firm, a reliable boyfriend in Lucas, and a comfortable apartment in Manhattan. By all accounts, he should have been happy. But the truth was, Gabriel hadn’t felt alive in years. Even his relationship with Lucas, once fiery and passionate, had dulled into predictable rhythms—dinners, Netflix, the occasional half-hearted kiss before bed.

When the email arrived—Opportunity Awaits: A New Experience—he clicked on it out of nothing more than boredom. The promise of something new was enough to intrigue him.

Moments after filling out the form, Gabriel felt his body seize. A warmth spread through his limbs, but it wasn’t the kind of comfort he’d expected. It was heat, heavy and consuming. His vision blurred, and then everything went black.

Gabriel woke up gasping.

The first thing he noticed was the weight—his body was impossibly heavy, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His skin felt foreign, rough against the fabric of the sweat-soaked sheets beneath him. When he reached up to run a hand through his hair, he stopped short, staring at the thick, dark fingers that weren’t his own.

His heart raced as he stumbled out of bed, the entire room unfamiliar. The walls were cracked, the air thick with the scent of frying oil and stale sweat. A cheap, warped mirror hung crookedly on the wall. Gabriel approached it, his legs unsteady beneath him, and froze when he saw his reflection.

The man staring back at him was large, with dark, ruddy skin and a heavy, rounded face. His body was immense, rolls of flesh spilling over his waistband. His arms, thick with muscle buried under fat, flexed as he clutched the edge of the mirror.

He wasn’t himself.

The ID card on the nightstand told him his name: Javier Castillo.

---

The city felt different in Javier’s body. The streets were harsher, the air colder. Gabriel’s movements were slower, deliberate, as if the weight of Javier’s life clung to him like a second skin.

That afternoon, Gabriel found himself standing in the back room of a greasy diner, staring at an enormous stack of dirty dishes. His arms ached, his back throbbed from the weight of the day.

Paul, his wiry manager with a perpetually sour expression, barked at him from the doorway. "Javier! I told you those tables need to be cleared now, not when you feel like it!"

Gabriel straightened, instinctively opening his mouth to respond. "I—I’m—" But the words stuck. Instead, what came out was, "Lo siento, jefe. Es que estoy—uh—trabajando, pero—"

Paul’s face twisted in irritation. "What the hell did you just say? Speak English, man!"

Gabriel’s cheeks burned. He tried again, forcing himself to speak slowly. "I... I work... too much," he said, but the words felt clumsy, wrong.

Paul rolled his eyes. "Just clear the damn tables, Castillo."

As the manager stormed off, Gabriel clenched his fists. He wanted to shout, to explain that he wasn’t Javier, that this wasn’t his life. But the weight of his reality—the weight of Javier’s life—pressed down on him.

Days turned into weeks, and Gabriel became more attuned to Javier’s life. The grind of menial jobs, the whispers of coworkers in Spanish he could barely follow, the way strangers looked through him on the subway.

But there were moments of connection. At a construction site, Miguel—a fellow worker—brushed against him while handing him a tool. The contact was fleeting, but Gabriel felt it like a spark. Later, Miguel invited him for drinks.

At the bar, the air was thick with the smell of beer and sweat. Miguel leaned in close, his hand resting on Gabriel’s thigh. "¿Cómo estás, güey?" Miguel asked, his voice low and teasing.

Gabriel tried to respond in English but stumbled. "I... uh... I’m tired... no sé cómo decirlo..."

Miguel chuckled softly. "No importa, hermano. You don’t gotta explain."

When Miguel’s lips brushed against his ear, Gabriel let out a low, shuddering breath. They didn’t make it back to the apartment. Instead, they found themselves pressed against a brick wall in an alley, Miguel’s hands gripping Gabriel’s waist, his mouth hot and demanding against his neck.

For the first time in years, Gabriel felt wanted—not for his polished appearance or polite charm, but for his body. For the raw, unpolished truth of it.

---

As Gabriel lay tangled in sweat-stained sheets the next morning, Miguel’s arm draped across his chest, he stared at the ceiling. This life, as exhausting and unforgiving as it was, had awakened something in him.

He didn’t know how or why this had happened—how he had ended up in Javier’s body, or what it all meant. But for the first time, he didn’t feel like a spectator in his own life.

Tell me if you want them to be Reaccurring characters I love to write more about Gabriel(Javier) and Miguel

[yandere-wishes]

Spider Bite Love

Synopsis: Miguel loves you, this you know. But neither the story nor the hero ever stops long enough to wonder if you love him too. 

Warnings: Choking, Biting, Reader is from Miles' universe, Miguel is kinda a perfectionist. Yandere themes.

Author's note: Forgive the Spanish it's mostly found on Google. I took like four months of Spanish back in 7th grade and have retained exactly 0.1% of that knowledge. 

💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙

The future is porcelain, all marble white and reflective crystal. Flying cars and a horizon that echoes soft tamed pastels. Nueva York can almost be described as beautiful. Almost.

If not for the technicalities and lies and the loss of total freedom. 

If not for a fate that's been prewritten. Repeated across centuries and dimensions. So uncontrollable that it practically cultivates inferiority within your heart. An age-old tradition found in every child's tale about dashing heroes and harrowing villains.

If not for the looming uncomfortable, presence known as Miguel O'Hara who refuses to leave you alone. 

Your lover.

Your hero.

Your Spider-man

Although he's not your Spider-Man. Not really. And you're not the love of his life. Not really. You're both just Look-alikes, cheap replicas from a corner dimension. 

It's difficult to comprehend, pondering it encompasses you with an unruly headache. Galling and overpowering, not unlike your so-called "Lover".

To put it simply or rather to oversimplify. You are not meant to be here.  You are from Earth-1610, at least you think you are. It's hard to tell since apparently from what you've gathered there was another (y/n). One who looked just like you, acted just like you, and was essentially you in every microscopic aspect. At least that's what Miguel says, and you've come to learn that he's not awfully good at telling the full truth. 

She died or was killed. As is customary with every hero's first crush.  Thus leaving Miguel without a lover or a prisoner. Depending on which iteration of the story you fancy. 

Then Miles came along disrupting the canon and causing a dimension's wide spider hunt, with Miguel leading the charge. Somewhere along the lines, between chasing down Miles and barking orders at the other Superheroes his secret society was made of. He passes by your window. Caught a rogue glimpse and froze. He'd found you again, after all these years of believing that you were dead. Technically you were dead, his (y/n) was dead. But there was one here, another one, just as radiant and beautiful as his original lover had been. Miguel knew he had to have you. To take you back to his dimension. To complete his Canon. 

Your dimension was doomed anyway. 

So he wasn't really doing any harm. 

You shuffle uncomfortably on the couch, attempting to readjust your position as to better gaze out the window at the porcelain city. 

It's almost homogeneous to Miguel himself. 

A perfect city with no room for cracks or mistakes.

A perfect hero who flawlessly preserves the multiverse.

They're both perfect you think as you steal your gaze from the skyline. Although sometimes perfect and pristine aren't always reflective of a person's inner workings. Miguel isn't exactly corrupted but he's far from innocent either. You - and the motley amount of fang marks spread across your body- are living proof of that.

His apartment is clean, spotless, all ceramic tiles and snowy furniture. 

No room for faults or fallacy. His whole life is meant to be errorless. Just like the delicate spider-verse, he's all so keen on protecting. 

The door chimes, a light buzz and a thud. It's hard to remember that this is technically the future. That trivial things such as keys and locks have long since been eradicated. 

Miguel steps in, a bouquet of red and yellow roses grasped within his hand. He walks in as the door buzzes closed behind him. There's a docile look in his eyes as he spots you sitting on the couch. A repeated memory you realize and you wonder if his (y/n) use to wait for him to get back from Spider HQ, all patient and passive like a pretty doll awaiting her master. 

"Para vos, mi querida" he mumbles, somehow apathetic and bashful all at the same time. 

You reach for the flowers a practiced smile bearly tugging at your lips, your fingers curling around the bouquet, then you freeze eyes going wide. 

There's blood on his claws again, pristine rudy red that drips to an invisible tempo. You wonder who he's killed this time. A canon divergent Spider-Man or Spider-Women. A villain running amuck across the city. 

Or some regular civilian he was supposed to protect. A regular civilian who had some interaction with you on one of the rare times Miguel actually agreed to take you out. You wonder but you don't date ask. 

His suit is unscratched -as it always is- His face is bruise-less, so it makes you think that your final hypothesis may just be the accurate one. Miguel's eyes narrow when notices your frozen hand. 

"What's wrong," he asks a gruff edge in his voice, a warning.

One your mind begs you to obey. 

"Who did you kill?" You ask eyes concentrated on the sharp blue razors that make him look more monster than superhero. Your fingers abandon the bouquet's base and return to your side. You try to force your eyes into a glare despite the unruly beating of your fearful heart. 

One look from Miguel snuffs all that resistance out. One dark glare from eyes that can't choose if they wish to be red or blue. Human or hero. Human or monster. And you're back to cowering into the couch cushions. 

"It doesn't matter" he all but barks, a supernatural chill encompasses the room. As he throws the bouquet down onto the ceramic floor. His lips pull back in a snarl, showcasing milky white fangs that gleam in the low lights. 

"It does matter Miguel!" Your voice is raising, itching to scream to yell. To make him understand a fraction of your hatred

"You're supposed to be a hero, a savior, but all you ever do is act like a villain. You stole me from my home, you killed my universe's Spider-man, you destroyed my dimension! You're nothing more than a villain wearing a hero's mask." 

There's a punchline to this, you're almost sure of it. Some storybook explanation as to why you decided to lash out at the most terrifying creature you've ever met. Maybe in the heat of the frigid moment, you forgot that he's no mere spider. He's a tarantula, bloodthirsty and savage, ready to attack when someone goes poking at him with a stick. 

Miguel's fingers tighten around your throat, sharp claws digging into soft skin and delicate muscles. Pushing you further into the couch. Miguel's ears ring with the symphony of your gagging as he tightens his grasp. He thinks you're choking, suffocating, asphyxiating. 

Good. With any luck, you'll be dead soon.

"Mocosa ingrata"

He's not sure if your death will be significant in any way. You're honestly too trivial to have any impact on things. If you hold a place in the canon of his timeline or yours, he's yet to find it. 

Miguel hates oddities, things that disrupt the canon, selfish missteps that destroy entire dimensions. You're not quite an oddity per se, although everything in your timeline is broken. Dangling from a loose threat at the edge of a cliff. All because Miles Morales decided to be selfish and greedy and "change" what's been canon for longer than any "Spider-man" has been alive. Miles is a mistake. that whole universe is a mistake. It's bound to collapse on itself at any moment. So for the life of him, Miguel can't understand why you're so ungrateful. So desperate to reprimand him and belittle him when all he's doing is trying to save everyone. 

He's failed once, 

He's failed twice,

He refuses to fail for a third time. 

It doesn't matter that you're some helpless civilian who was stuck in the wrong universe at the wrong time. All that matters is that you're (y/n), his (y/n). Every other Spiderman has their Gwen or their MJ. A dutiful lover, to return to when the night ends, when the fighting ends. When the ignorant sun finally decides to reawaken and cast the city in a temporary ray of peacefulness. Someone to love and cherish, to take their minds off of the dread and misery that runs amuck across their lives. 

Peter Parker has his Mary Jane.

Miles Morales had his Gwen Stacy.

So why can't Miguel O'Hara have his (Y/n) (L/n)?

When Miguel looks back down at you, he notices your dark eyes. How the life is slowly fading from your body. He relents, pulling you forward and slamming you into the couch one last time before retracting his hand. He sits down next to your coughing body. 

"I hate you" you manage to blurt out between desperate heaves. Trying to fill your lungs with as much oxygen as possible. You don't bother looking at him, you know he's mad. He's always mad when you refuse to act like his (y/n). When you poke holes at the perfect illusion he's created. 

There's a brief pause. A second of tranquility. Before Miguel grabs your arm and pulls you onto his lap. His mouth parts. Fangs releasing and hovering above your jugular. His fangs pierce your vain, releasing his poison into your bloodstream. It's not lethal, at least not yet. Miguel prefers to think of it as a sedative for when you start to act up. 

It soothes you, calms you into remembering your place. Your head lulls to the side, falling on his shoulder as your groggy eyes look up at him with a stare that he can almost trick himself into believing is loving, or some variant of the same emotion. 

You're his, he knows that. You have to be. It's all he can tell himself as to stay sane. You'll understand someday. Realize you love him too. 

After all every hero needs a lover. 

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Warnings: depictions of blood/blood kink.

Mean Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

-----

Miguel isn't the type to ever be smitten. He's not the kind to stare after some pretty girl that gives him eyes, and he's not the kind to flirt around. Ever. And he was pretty sure you were going to be just another of the many spiders he's worked with.

You're not. He's head over heels for you.

Funny, witty, persistent. You take no shit from anyone. Not even from him. You've never been afraid of him, when he snaps or yells or makes his usual snarky comments, you don't even blink. You cross your arms, level his gaze, shift your weight to one of your hips and call him out. Calm and collected, your voice full of authority and confidence, and it always manages to shut him up. He'll purse his lips and turn away from you. Then you know you've won.

Not today.

Today, you walked away first. He yelled at you in a fit of rage even though the issue hadn't even been your fault.

"Miguel. Take it easy,” you tried to calm him down. “We'll fix this. We always do.”

“The fuck would you know? All you do is make more of a mess.”

“No. I don't. I'm here to help.”

He scoffed. “Help? You're useless. All you ever do is annoy everyone around you. No one stands you.” His eyes had met yours and he'd snarled, “Everyone hates you.”

And you knew it wasn't true. But it still hurt. You'd clenched your jaw, eyes narrowing at him. And then you turned around and walked away.

No one saw you the rest of the day.

Guilt has been eating at him all day. He's in his bedroom, pacing from one side to the other, hands tangled in his hair, sharp teeth digging into his lower lip.

“Fuck,” he growls at himself. He doesn't want to, but he's going to do it anyway.

You're sitting on your bed, a cigarette between your fingers. You exhale the smoke slowly, wiping away a tear that rolls down your cheek.

A portal opens in your room and you sigh. You're expecting Peter to show again, fully intending on comforting you again.

Instead, Miguel shows. When you see him, surprise rushes through you, but you're quick to mask it.

“Took a wrong turn, did you?” you say flatly. You take a drag from your cigarette and he frowns.

“Didn't know you smoked,” he mumbles, not waiting for an invitation. He steps closer to you and sits beside you on the bed.

You hum.

He swallows his pride. “That's not good for you, sabes. It'll kill you.”

“Yeah, thanks, dad,” you spit. “Is that what you came here to do? Point out all my mistakes and tell me how I'm gonna die?”

He sighs. “I'm trying to apologize, kid.” That stuns you into silence. “I...overstepped.”

“Understatement,” you mutter, putting your cigarette out.

He huffs silently. “This is fucking ridiculous,” he sighs. “Look. I didn't mean what I said. I was...upset. You-you know how I get when things don't go my way. And it...It was a low blow. I'm sorry.”

You blink at him. “Say that again?”

He throws you a glare, but sucks it up. “I'm sorry,” he says between clenched teeth. “I didn't mean it, alright.” He huffs a thick sigh, looking away from you, his gaze focused straight ahead. “And it's not true anyway. It was a cheap lie.”

You smile slightly, nudging his shoulder with yours. “I know that. I'm too much of a likeable person.”

He turns to look at you, that sharp gaze making you freeze. Your breath hitches, mouth inching open, and his eyes fall to your lips.

You swallow, drawing his eyes to the dip of your throat. He meets your gaze.

“Miguel...” Your voice is a soft, quiet sound. A low purr that makes his blood rush south.

“Ven acá,” he growls, huge hands moving to cup your face. He pulls you closer, kissing you roughly, sharp canines poking your lower lip.

You gasp, palms pressing to his chest. He kisses you rough, hungry, like he's been aching for you all this time.

His hand slides from your cheek to your neck, down your arm to your waist. He tugs you closer, your leg pressing against his.

Your hand finds one of the buttons of his shirt and starts fiddling with it. He smirks against you, hands moving to your hips to drag you onto his lap.

He makes a low, contented sound against your lips when your clothed core rubs against his hard cock. He slides his tongue into your mouth, tasting the cigarette you'd been smoking.

Your hands hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin slightly. Almost instinctively, your hips start grinding on his, a whine leaving you.

He grunts slightly, starting to guide your movements in small circles, your clit rubbing against the thick tip of his cock, making you jerk in his grasp.

“Princesa,” he hums, “let me make it up to you.”

You meet his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with lust. You don't even have to _think_ about it.

“Alright,” you say. “As long as you don't leave me waiting.”

He chuckles lowly. His hand moves to your thighs, thumbs caressing the inside of your thighs, inching higher until he's rubbing your cunt through your jeans.

You exhale softly, swallowing hard. He pops the button open, unzips your jeans, his knuckles grazing against your soaked folds.

You quiver on top of him. “Miguel.” It's a soft sigh, a breathless plea for more.

He dips his mouth into the crook of your neck. His tongue is warm, wet as it drags over your pulse.

He lifts you slightly, helping you out of your jeans before pulling you back onto his lap. His rough fingers caress you through your panties, gathering your slick until his fingers are dripping with it.

He raises his fingers to his lips, licks your arousal off. You blush as you watch, a wave of desire crashing over you and flooding your senses. He can barely contain himself at your taste.

He wants to toss you onto the bed, bend you over it and fuck you hard and fast. He wants you on top, wants to make you bounce on his cock until you're crying with ecstasy. He wants to tie you up, watch you squirm as he makes you come over and over and over, making sure you feel nothing but pleasure.

He pulls your panties aside, his digits quick to find your clit. You barely have time to react when he's already rubbing the nub in tight circles, his sharp teeth dragging over your jaw.

You whine, hips bucking, thighs tightening around his hips. “Fuck,” you hiss, eyes shut tight.

“I'm sorry, princesa,” he says. “Didn't mean to make you feel bad. Never meant to hurt you.” He nibbles your shoulder, his fingers pulling away from your clit. He tugs your panties and you lift your hips to take them off. Instead, he holds you down against him and tears your panties off.

You gasp at the sound of the thin fabric tearing, and he chuckles. “Después te compro más, princesa.” I'll buy you more later. “Don't worry about it.”

You nod. “Yeah, alright.”

He considers throwing the ruined panties aside, but he ends up tucking them in the front pocket of his jeans. He knows he's going to find a bunch of uses for it on those late nights he can't fall asleep.

He runs his fingers up your slit, spreading your folds and tracing your slick entrance with his middle finger. You shiver and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“Princesa,” he groans, “look at how wet I've got you. You pretty, pretty thing...” He kisses your jaw, sharp teeth grazing your skin. He slides his thick middle finger into you, feeling your soft walls clench around him.

You moan softly, a breath leaving your lips. Your nails dig into his shoulders, a shaky exhale escaping you. “Miguel,” you say quietly, beginning to move your hips against his hand. “Ahh...”

He slides a second finger into you and grunts at the sound you make. He curls his fingers, pressing against your g-spot and making you whimper. His thumb catches your clit, drawing neat circles on it.

“Princesa, there's something I wanna teach you,” he says against your shoulder. “Want to make you feel something new.”

“Yeah?” you question, breathless.

You can feel him grin against your skin. “Has anyone ever made you squirt?”

You shudder. “No,” you reply, eyes fluttering shut. “Never.”

Miguel smirks. “Then it'll be my pleasure to teach you, princesa.”

You shiver, whimpering lowly. His fingers touch every right spot, with the perfect pressure and rhythm.

He pulls his face back a little so he can see you, his eyes watching your every reaction. He admires the way you tremble, your plump lips open as moans and whimpers leave you.

His eyes glisten with a predatory lust that has you shivering. And then he kisses your mouth, hard and hungry, almost bruising your lips with his. He licks you, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you.

You whine softly, legs quaking, and he moans lowly, a deep rumble in his chest that makes your arousal spark.

He slightly grazes your lips with his sharp canines, making you gasp, and the sound sends an animalistic heat through his body. Almost involuntarily, he bites your lower lip, hard, not only bruising the soft flesh, but also drawing a little bit of blood.

You hiss at the sensation, the pain adding to the endless flow of pleasure within you. He licks at your blood, groaning at the taste of it.

You move a hand from his shoulder to the hair at the back of his head, tugging at the soft locks there. He growls out a moan, a sharp breath leaving him. “Princesa,” he says lowly, as if in warning.

You whine in response, your hips beginning to stutter against his hand. You can't breathe right and you're trembling almost violently. You can feel your orgasm nearing, growing within you like a balloon of warmth low in your stomach.

He can tell you're close. His eyes shine as he watches you, his cock twitching as your velvet walls clench around his fingers.

“Come on, princesa,” he says lowly, leaning closer to your ear,licking your earlobe. “You can do it for me, yeah? You can come for me, can't you?”

You nod, moaning. “Yes...Mhmm!”

“Muy bien, princesa,” he praises, eyes darkening. “Almost there, aren't you?”

You whimper, trying to reply. But the sensation within you is dizzying, stupefying. Your orgasm grows closer and closer, making your every moan nothing more than a pathetic little whimper.

And suddenly a new sensation takes over you, growing deep in your womb and spreading to the rest of your body.

“Miguel—” You don't get the chance to say anything else to him. Your body shivers and your orgasm is suddenly dragging you under, your eyes fluttering shut.

He gasps softly as you come, your body shaking as you squirt onto him. He can't glance away, can't stop moving his fingers. He just keeps going, stuck in a trance as he watches your arousal gushing all over him.

You whimper when the pleasure becomes too much, one of your hands racing to grab onto his wrist weakly.

“Miguel, 's too much.”

He stops his movements then, eyes rising to yours. “Oh, princesa,” he says, voice rough and deep. “You did so well. So good, cariño.” He pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean as you watch.

You lean towards his ear and whisper, “Miguel, please, fuck me.”

He shudders as your breath caresses the skin of his neck. “Say it again,” he orders quietly.

You grin. “Miguel, fuck me. I want you inside of me. Need your cock in me.”

“Dios,” he grunts, eyes shutting as his cock jerks in his pants, eager. “Esa boca tuya, princesa...Tienes carita de ángel y aun así...” That mouth of yours, princess...You have an angel's face and yet... “Capable of being so, so dirty. It drives me fucking crazy, princesa.”

He picks you up, placing you face down on the bed, one of his hands on your hip while the other one pushes you down against the mattress.

You gasp, back arching as he teases your raw, soaked folds with a finger.

He keeps his eyes on your cunt before moving them to your ass. His hands splay over the soft flesh, kneading it and squeezing it before he delivers a soft slap to it. You whine and his lips curl into a slight smirk.

He undoes his pants eagerly, pushing his jeans off, his underwear falling away with them. His cock springs free, the tip glistening with precum. He's so hard, he can't believe the way you affect him. It's insane how easy it is for you to turn him on and make him forget about everything else.

He runs the thick head of his cock between your folds and you shudder, hips jerking away before pressing back against his in search of more.

He holds tight onto your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he slides his cock into you.

You mewl at the sensation, gummy walls stretching to their limit, your legs trembling as he fills you to the brim. You gasp softly when the tip presses against your cervix and then some. You clench your hands around the bed sheets, your eyes shut tight.

“Fuck,” Miguel groans, his eyes locked on your cunt and how his entire cock has sunk deep into you with so much ease. “Oh, princesa, you've no idea how much I've wanted this.”

You whimper in response, not really able to say or do anything else.

His thrusts start out slow, measuring how much you can take while giving you time to adjust to his size. But soon, when he feels you're wet enough and you're rolling your hips against his in a desperate plea for more, he starts going faster, harder.

Your entire body quivers with each thrust, the breath leaving your lungs accompanied by little whimpers. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fucks you, and you're absolutely certain that you are going to pass out from the ecstasy.

“Princesa,” Miguel grunts, “I wanna try something else with you. May I?”

You nod, moaning out a squeaky, “Yeah,” as he keeps going.

He smirks, one of his hands leaving your hip to grab your hair and tug it hard, forcing your back to arch even more. He leans down to you, his chest against your back. You feel his lips on your shoulder, slowly trailing up to your neck, and then his teeth graze over your skin.

His sharp, sharp canines, send shivers down your spine. You shudder out a breath as he slightly bites you, the tip of his teeth digging into your skin.

He bites down a little harder, the pressure gradually increasing until his teeth sink into your flesh. You shudder, crying out as a shock of pain slices through you.

Miguel groans as blood starts flowing from you, its taste invading his senses. He licks your blood, reveling in the taste, and then he kisses the small wound he's inflicted.

You whimper, the pain adding to the pleasure and making your body shiver. You can feel the bliss within you growing into an unbearable entity within your womb, and you can't take it anymore.

“Miguel!” you whine, eyes fluttering shut, stars dancing behind your eyelids. “Miguel! I-I can't—! Fuck!”

“Shh,” he coos. “It's okay, princesa. Respira.” Breathe. “You're almost there.”

You cry out, biting down on the duvet to keep yourself quiet. Still, your little sounds echo in the room, growing louder as you reach your release.

Your orgasm tears through you, destroying whatever little was left of your composure. You shudder violently, body falling limp against the bed.

Miguel gasps as your cunt tightens around him, your arousal gushing out onto his cock. He keeps his hands on your hips, holding you up as your legs falter and give.

He thrusts into you a couple more times and then he comes, spurting his load deep into your pussy. You mewl weakly at the sensation, truly fucked dumb, and you can't do anything but feel him fill you up.

He grunts softly, grinding his hips against yours lightly before pulling out.

The two of you stay there for a moment, breathing heavily, bodies shaking from the shared effort. And then Miguel's quickly taking care of you.

He helps you onto your bed, laying you down gently and pushing your hair out of your face. He cleans you up with a towel, gathering your combined release with the soft material before tossing it in the laundry basket. He helps you into his shirt and he slides a pair of clean panties onto you.

Then, he lies beside you, his fingers tracing your skin, his eyes stuck on the way his shirt is too big for you because he's huge.

You cuddle up against him, your nose nuzzling into his chest. He smiles softly. “Am I forgiven, princesa?” he asks quietly, caressing your jaw.

You smile up at him, sleepily and pleased. “Yes. You absolutely are.”

-----

Blog masterlist

[verysium]

『03』 ブルーロック: blue lock recs

冴糸師: sae itoshi

lost to time by @syriiina

nostalgia. it’s delicate but potent. “nostalgia” literally means “the pain from an old wound” in greek. it’s the twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone – a feeling of a place where we ache to go again. but in sae’s case, it’s the painful ache in his chest to return to someone that’s already been buried by the sands of the past; the yearning for someone that’s already been lost to time. notes: this fic emotionally destroyed me; heavy angst paired with audio recordings; basically the most gut-wrenching combination ever; smooth chronological plot development; encapsulates the dichotomous pain and pleasure of love; i felt like my heart was healing and hurting at the same time

merry go round by @syriiina

what if you were given another chance? another chance to say all the things you’ve wanted to say, cry all the tears you couldn’t and hear the voice of the person you’ve cherished all your life? sae itoshi was given that chance. just one more chance for your birthday that he’ll never get to spend with you. just another chance at goodbye. notes: at this point this author needs to pay for my therapy; examining the process of grief; almost dreamy and hallucination-inducing atmosphere; idea of letting go; new beginnings; childhood nostalgia; sequel to first fic

to my first love / to my last love by @by-moonflower

when you agreed to date itoshi sae in mid-october of 1993, you never imagined he'd be your first love—whose presence would continue to linger in your life, hauntingly, even if a year, two, or ten came to pass. notes: high school sweethearts to exes to lovers again; examines insecurities of girlhood; idea of love being a process of trying and trying again; reader discovers herself before she discovers others; happy ending; pre-2000s nostalgia; montage/vignette style

come out and haunt me by @alaboadoa

sae is 13 years old when he moves to madrid. his temporary apartment is old and cheap, and worst of all it's haunted. but he finds your company better than nothing, even if you do tend to knock all of his belongings over. notes: incredibly well-written study of sae’s character especially as a pre-teen; honestly would've never expected a ghost AU; this author has such a beautiful mind; finding commonality in exclusion and lack of belonging; a unique rendition of right person, wrong time; loving someone but still not being enough

hungry hearts by @sanzu-sanzu-sanzu

You are Itoshi Sae’s Manager. Fielder of dumb reporter questions and keeper of his schedule. Among many others. notes: their dynamic reminds me of miguel and lyla from the spiderverse or that one kdrama about secretary kim; sae denying that he is in love yet noticing every little detail about reader; their witty banter is so funny; gradual realization of feelings; honestly i think this is how canon sae would fall in love

find love by @tenjiiku

“Mama?” “Yes, little bunny?” You call her by such a name because when she was a toddler she had somewhat of an obsession with playing leap frog with others. The original pet name had been little frog, but it had caused a rather large tantrum, so you never used such a term with her. Her father suggested it. It was the only thing he made that you still used. notes: i don't even need a rec to tell you how good this is; nuanced portrayal of divorce; honestly hit too close to home; idea of marriage not being endgame; slight hint of second-chance romance; love that never fades; sae being emotionally oblivious; for the hopeless romantics

the hanshin expressway by @tenjiiku

He remembers how sad you had looked — gentle, sweet and kindhearted you. And he remembers feeling the urge to hold you. Because it was the first time he voluntarily felt such a gripping emotion. He recalls the way your nimble fingers trembled around your second mug of jasmine tea, and he looks back on the way you turned to him with a forced smile, as if it was the easiest thing to do — to bear yourself and all of your little idiosyncrasies in front of him, no walls, no windows. Just you and him. You, reprimanded for your selfless displays of kindness. Him, admonished for his lack of expressing his. It was hard not to let himself fall into you. notes: literally even the premise of this fic is not for the weak; amnesia tropes are the death of me; prose is so tender and beautiful; sae being the one who now teaches the reader how to love; role reversal; reliving grief; idea of being unable to equate the past and present versions of the person you love; people change and you are helpless to stop it; being unable to return to what once was

rezkinoff / prelude by @tenjiiku

07.01. It is the first day of my break. I am going to journal both my fitness levels and caloric intake because my nutritionist has told me to. I will also note a daily observation so as to look back on my time with certainty that I have spent it properly and because you have told me to. Today’s observation: the heels of my feet are growing calluses and I found a single strand of white hair, still on my head. I need better shoes and hair dye. Perhaps something is in the water. — Itoshi. S notes: one of the most authentic portrayals of sae’s character; sae being emotionally inept but slowly learning; aging but as a graceful process; daily observations of life; the epistolary style makes it a smooth reading experience; ambiguous enough for interpretation

us, again by @ode2rin

in which: itoshi sae returns to the only place on earth he vows to never set foot again. notes: one of the best second-chance romance fics out there; i still think about this fic at night; just the right balance of hurt and comfort; sae and reader both messing it up and finding each other again; dilemma of both loving and hating a person; has a coffee shop scene and a dramatic airport reunion so what is there not to like

scraps by @itoshiexx

you give him all you have. it's time to collect the scraps before there is nothing left. notes: short but packs the most brutal emotional punch at the end; idea of love not being enough; sae pushing reader away; miscommunication; hurt people hurt people; giving up on someone you love most; falling out of love

conversations by @saerins

he’s back home, and you recall the times you’d spoken to him. all the calls you made, then all the calls he made, and then all the times it went to voicemail. notes: i was having a good day until i read this and started violently sobbing; honestly it's a pretty accurate reflection of fame and the troubles it brings for both you and sae; the voicemails crushed something within me; i was grieving for a relationship that never existed; please read when you want a good cry; thank god for the alternate ending here

do stars return? by @hanyjar

your childhood friend leaves, and you question if he’ll ever come back. notes: the way that i ate this shit up with no crumbs. sae itoshi and star metaphors go hand in hand. picture this: you and sae grow up and then he leaves you and then he comes back again. now amplify that and add childhood angst and a sprinkle of poetic language. you're welcome.

凛糸師: rin itoshi

the first snow by @tenjiiku

It’d take him 3 lonely nights for Rin to admit to himself he wanted to see you again. He wonders if he torments you as much as you do him. notes: two-shot that changed the trajectory of my life; this author absolutely nails the slice of life genre every single time; finding beauty in the mundane; realistic depictions of modern love; somewhat slow-burn; dialogue and internal conscience are beautifully written

riptide by @misssleepless12

Concerned with how things were left after U-20, Isagi goes to visit Rin before the end of break. They address it. Sort of. notes: not necessarily a rinsagi shipper but this fic has a stunningly accurate portrayal of MLM romance; no sense of false idealism or over-romanticization; rin and isagi’s natural dynamic is perfectly captured; strong imagery and cultural setting of kamakura; rin’s sarcasm is on point

カイザ: michael kaiser

five dates and a proposal by @by-moonflower

all it takes is five dates for kaiser to fall in love with you and you in him, much to your surprise. notes: this fic actually made me believe in love; strong female character; fear of love and gradual opening up; basically what it feels like to fall in love with someone you never thought you’d actually love; realistic depiction of insecurities

color me blue by @saekkas

in which you need to wrestle your boyfriend, michael kaiser, out of his bed to fulfill a promise: re-dye his hair. notes: domestic fluff; michael being childishly cute; imperfections as perfections; heart-warming snapshot of established couple life; never fails to make me smile when i reread it

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia: (Part Thirty-two)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content: Time to cry.

Both you and Mig were hesitant to leave the closet. Despite the abysmally horny scene you’d both made in the lobby in the throes of Mig’s prey-driven rut, now that you were both a little more sober, the thought of facing your colleagues was less than enticing. You didn’t want the little whispered concerns about whether you were okay, and you certainly didn’t want the snickers about Miguel’s size.

And besides, he was ever so warm. You loved the soft fuzz of his legs as they brushed your cheeks, leaving a glow on your skin. You loved the heat of his torso when he hugged you, and the little sigh he did as he rested his chin on the crown of your head.

But, you couldn’t exactly stay in there forever.

You creaked the door open just an inch and peeped your head around the corner, allowing just your eyes to appear. Mig did the exact same, slowly sliding his head around the door just above your own, like curious prairie dogs.

To your relief it seemed that the party was already in full swing. There was music playing, people laughing, cheap plastic pumpkins cackling, and huge groups of spiders all hurrying about in full costume.

Nobody would notice you. But, would they notice the room?

You glanced back over your shoulder at the mess of webs you’d left behind.The sticky stings were dripping with some kind of obscene liquid. Whether it was saliva or something else, though… well, of that you weren’t sure. Your eyes met, and in near unison you agreed:

‘They’ll just think its decoration.’

You spread your leg forward as if to leave, only to then duck out of sight once more as a gaggle of spiders rushed past, squishing yourself behind the door with Miguel awkwardly pressed up against your chest. You eyed him and your little mess up for the second time.

‘Is this… Is this a health hazard, Mig, do you think?’

‘Why are you asking me that, arañita?’

‘You’re the super genius!’

‘I’m not a doctor.’

‘A genetical physicist is better than doctor!’

‘Ay, arañita, be careful who you say that to…’

‘No, just- come on. I trust your judgment. You will ease my guilty conscience.'

‘… I mean we have never gotten sick from it.’

‘A very good point, Mr. O’Hara. A very good point indeed. In that case, I am sold. Let’s just leave it.’

Once the noise immediately outside the little closet door had passed, you allowed yourself to slip out and join the fray. Mig followed close behind.

Your hands instinctively interlocked as you headed towards the main party. It was a little nerve-wracking to be around people knowing the state of your body. You could feel the little web plug still sitting snuggly inside you, which would undoubtedly stay there until later that evening when Mig would finally and reluctantly pull it out, only to most likely stuff you again.

You were very, very, VERY full, and it was unbearably distracting.

As you took your first few steps into the crowd you glanced up at Mig. You looked at him with the expectation that you’d see the same concern on his face, that shared fear of being found out, but to your surprise, Mig looked the exact opposite. His eyes were glinting with a smug, primal sheen that you could only describe as possessive pride. He was relishing the knowledge that he’d stuffed you up and now got to parade you around while filled with his seed, his web knot, even if he put up a shy front before all the other spiders.

You huffed and gently elbowed his leg, causing him to stumble.

‘Mm! Arañita? Are you—’

Mig glanced down in shock at your unexpected nudge, but the moment he saw your expression he knew what you were thinking. He at least had the sense to break into a bashful blush as he shook himself out.

‘… I will not apologize for my instincts’ he grumbled.

‘Mig—’

‘I will not! I can’t help it. It’s in my nature to feel pride about such things.’

‘Mig, come on—’

‘Nature! It is my nature! I cannot argue with nature, arañita!’

You tried to pout, you really did, but as you stared up at his red cheeks and those big red eyes that even now betrayed a deep level of possessive adoration, you couldn’t help but break into a smile yourself. You giggled and tried to cover your mouth while Mig grunted.

‘What? Why are you now laughing?’

‘Oh, nothing. Nothing.’

‘What is so funny?’

‘Nothing!’

You decided to tease him a little more, and broke into a slight jog so that he was forced to scurry after you across the floor.

‘Ah- arañita?’ he chirped as you sped up. You saw his legs shuffling faster and picked up the pace, breaking into a run.

‘Mmm, come on. Faster’ you purred.

Mig purred back as he obediently followed. ‘Faster?’

‘Come on. You wanna know why I’m laughing, you gotta catch up’ you giggled.

Mig bristled with joy as he started to speed up alongside you. It pleased something in his primal brain to be chasing you, pursuing you. He moved his legs faster, clambering over fake pumpkins and spiders passing by as he tried to keep up with your pace.

Neither of you even paid attention to the other hoards of spiders who all jumped aside as Mig barrelled through. All you could think about was how fun it was to tease him, and how fun it would be when he caught you. In those moments, it was only you and him.

‘Arañita!’

Mig breathlessly called little nickname as he scurried through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the top of your head. He kept having to duck beneath plastic spiders hanging from the ceiling, though even at his most careful he took a number of pumpkin garlands to the face. Soon he was draped in paper decorations like a giant Halloween statue.

You finally skipped to a halt in front of the big open craft table, a movement so sharp that Mig barely had time to course-correct his own lumbering body. He skidded on the slippery tiled floor and bumped right into your back, pushing your stuffed belly into the table with a slight ‘oomph’.

A handful of people looked over with a mixture of disgust and morbid curiosity, but you ignored them. You were too busy giggling.

‘Jesus, Mig- oof, my god.’ You grunted as Mig withdrew from you, his hands outstretched to cup your shoulders as he ensured you were alright.

‘Arañita, you stopped so suddenly. Are you okay—’

‘I forgot how big you are sometimes’ you groaned, cutting off his little interjection. Mig snorted.

‘Excuse me? That seems untrue, mi amor.’

You tilted your head back and your brow tilted with it, shooting him a slightly confused expression. ‘What?’

‘That you’d forget I am big’ he repeated back. Immediately you rolled your eyes again. ‘Ohhh, okay. Okay. Really? A double entendre?’

‘A what?’

‘Your dick, Mig. You’re talking about your dick, right?’ you whispered back.

You were too busy giggling at Mig’s wide eyes and gormless expression to care about the spider people standing within listening distance, all of whom were now frozen in horror. He huffed and tried to play it off, glancing anywhere except your face.

‘I- I did not, necessarily mean that, arañita’ he insisted. Your lips curled into a smile so wide it hurt. His enormous legs were scuttling and shifting from side to side, something he only did when he was doing a terrible job of lying.

‘Oh, Mig. It’s not like you to be so coy’ you teased. You made a point of tickling the spot between his foreleg and his abdomen, knowing it would make him skitter and dance. His little tufty paws hopping back and forth always brought you joy.

‘Oye! Not there, mi tesoro’ he hissed back. He attempted to grasp and hold you still with his front paws but you just tickled those as well, noting the way his scarred, muscular body twitched and tensed as you did. Oh, to make that terrifying beast of a man quiver. It was pure joy.

He wrestled with you in the most childish form of PDA until he finally had you clutched to his chest. He held you there, one hand on your head and both forelegs wrapped around your chest, and he purred as he felt you squirm and laugh. His exasperation quickly turned back into a worn but gentle smile pulling across his chiseled, weather-beaten face.

‘Mi tesoro- ay, Dios Mio. You are in a state tonight, aren’t you?’

‘It’s a party, my love. Can I not enjoy myself?’

His smile deepened. You watched those little lines appear by his eyes as the corner of his lips tilted upward, the lines you could now count off by heart. His fangs flashed white in the spooky lighting.

‘I would love nothing more, arañita’ he murmured back. ‘I promise, I would love nothing more.’

He gave you another firm squeeze before letting you go, but his clawed hands remained on the small of your back. It was just a light touch. Not enough to herd you, but just enough to let you know he was there. It was enough to let you know he loved you.

When you turned back around all the other spiders had left. It seemed your little sickly romantic display had put them off their food.

You shrugged it off and tried not to focus on it too much, mostly for Mig’s sake. Instead, you focused on the food.

‘Ooo, they went all out.’

You picked at a few spider-themed cupcakes while Mig peered over your head. You could feel his chin on the crown of your head, nestling into your hair.

‘Mm… I remember these, I think. From before I changed’ Mig murmured to himself. He picked up a cupcake between the claws of his thumb and forefinger, coyly raising it to his face. You grabbed one for yourself and hopped up so that you were seated on the table's edge.

‘How’s it look?’ you asked, taking a bite of your own. Mig turned it a full 360 degrees barely an inch from his eyes, then took a cautious lick.

‘Mm… I’m, unsure if my stomach can adjust to this’ he grunted. ‘I’m so used to raw meat…’

‘What?’ you snorted. ‘You still have a human stomach, right?’

‘Yes… But it will pass down to my spider half’ he noted. He took another lick and visibly bristled at the sudden, overwhelming taste of butter and sugar on his tongue. You watched every hair on his abdomen stand up at once.

‘Ach! That is- overwhelming’ he hissed. You tried and failed to stifle a giggle as he bared his fangs at the little dessert.

‘Alright, alright. I’ll ask if there’s any raw venison around’ you teased, and with your free hand you grabbed the cupcake from him so that you had two.

‘No! No, I can… I will not be, defeated by this, sugary nonsense’ Mig insisted. He eyed up the cupcakes like they were about to bite off his finger, tepidly tapping back and forth as he worked up the courage to take it back once more, but as he dithered on his decision you got an idea.

‘Okay. Okay, come here. Let’s share’ you offered. When Mig raised both brows you peeled the wrapper off of the cake and placed half of it between your lips, leaving the other half hanging out for him to take. You leaned up, coaxing him down with those soft eyes you knew he couldn’t resist.

Mig almost blushed. His little abdomen wriggled with excitement, his paws tapping, and slowly he lowered his legs until you were both at the same height.

You felt his breath, his nose, the little bump of his forehead. He parted his lips, moving forward and back as he tried to find the right angle, and then he closed on the other half of the cake.

Your lips touched, and you savored it for just a moment before messily pulling apart.

Crumbs covered your lap as the middle of the cake collapsed, and you rushed to swallow between fits of giggles. Miguel was so flustered he swallowed his half in one go, forcing him to cough and thump his bare chest. That only made you giggle more.

‘Oh my god, Mig—’

‘Ah- ah. I-I don’t think I even tasted a bit of that’ he wheezed. You laughed so hard that your belly started to hurt.

‘God damn it! Alright, alright, let’s try another one—’

‘Hey! You two!’

A sharp voice drifted over the ambient spooky music, and for just a second you tore your eyes away from Mig to search for the culprit.

To your surprise, it was Jess. Miguel’s second-hand elite was moving with exorbitant speed and grace towards you and Mig, and her eyes were fixed on you in particular. You panicked and rushed to brush the crumbs off of your suit.

‘Jess! Hey, what—’

‘Where’s Miguel?’

You paused.

‘Uh, Mig? He—’

‘No, Miguel’ Jess stipulated. She looked weirdly distracted as her eyes darted around the room. ‘You know, our leader? Head of the society, the guy who should be here?’

‘Oh, uh… I-I’m not, sure’ you replied. ‘He—’

‘He is in his office’ Mig interrupted. You could feel his enormous torso leaning in over your shoulder so he could look Jess in the eye, and you could also see the way she stiffened at his presence. You bit back the urge to scowl.

‘His, office?’ Jess replied.

‘Yes. He ah, he offered to stay up late working on our project. The uh- the cross-universe serum, ma’am’ he added. ‘I offered to stay with him, but he said I should… enjoy myself, down here. With my mate.’

Jess took only a moment to dissect Mig’s response before immediately scoffing. ‘Uhuh. Uhuh. Wow, very interesting. VERY interesting.’

Her dry tone didn’t exactly land well with Mig, who instinctively took it at face value. He purred at the notion that he had, indeed, told Jess some interesting news, which only made you bristle more. You couldn’t stand the way people would talk to Mig, even if it was unintentional.

‘What’s the issue?’ you asked.

‘Oh, nothing. Just, it’s a very good story for him, isn’t it?’ Jess added sarcastically. ‘He’s being all altruistic all of a sudden, so he doesn’t have to attend the party.’

She spun in a circle and glared up at the entrance to his lab as if Miguel could somehow see her through all those dense walls. At this point Mig had finally caught on that his response hadn’t been taken as well as he assumed it would be, so he quickly shuffled forward to speak more clearly.

‘He did insist’ Mig said. ‘I offered to remain with him, but he insisted he continue working. We are very close to finding a solution, after all.’

Jess grumbled. She seemed perturbed that Mig was suddenly on Miguel’s side.

‘Ahuh. Alright. Guess I’m the honorary leader then, again, as always’ Jess said. ‘He calls me for backup when he gets his ass handed to him, and when everyone votes to throw a party I’m the one watching over it like you’re my hundreds and hundreds of spider kids—’

‘I apologize’ Mig suddenly blurted, interrupting her complaint in such an abrupt manner that both she and you jumped. Jess cocked her brow at the tentative-looking spider.

‘You- what?’

‘You seem…

Jess blinked. She blinked, and she gaped, and then she sighed. ‘My god… I forgot what you were like. Look, I’m not mad at you. I’m just- your uh, variant, is kind of a pain in the ass sometimes. Okay?’

Mig purred, his face unphased. ‘… Yes. I, believe I understand’ he purred back.

‘I’m sure you do’ Jess grumbled, and before you could even have a real conversation with her she turned and began to walk away.

‘I’m gonna go find Miguel in his office then. God damn antisocial little—’

Her mumbling faded into the background as she pushed through the crowd, leaving just you, Mig, and the ambient spooky music in the air.

As she hurried off you noticed Mig’s eyes following her. He had a blank expression as he watched her leave, but his eyes seemed instinctively driven upward to the huge gaping door that you knew led to Miguel’s office. You saw him shuffling in thought.

You knew he was probably thinking about going back himself. He looked antsy, shuffling his paws and his abdomen like a little saltshaker. You knew he was pining to finish that damn serum.

But you’d gone too long without just enjoying his presence for a while, and you were loathed to give him up now. Besides, Miguel was meant to be working on this project to make up for all the time he’d spent trying to pry you apart. You deserved to spend some one-on-one time with Mig now.

You reached out and tenderly tugged at his fur, urging him to meet your gaze.

‘Come on, my love’ you said gently. ‘Let’s go relax.’

Mig reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the office at the sound of your voice. It drew his head down until your eyes met, and he huffed at the sight of your smile. Your face was perfectly framed by the cheap Halloween lights, your lips turned up into a goofy grin that dimpled your cheeks.

He just wanted you to be his. He couldn’t stand another day without having you in his universe, in his world.

But… Perhaps, he could just enjoy you for a while. Just a while.

‘Okay, arañita’ he purred, and he returned your smile with one of his own. You adored the way his weathered, chiseled face shifted to accommodate his full lips tilting upward, the little lines by his eyes and the flash of his fangs. He never half smiled. He would always give you a full, wide, fang-filled grin when he saw you, and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

‘Good boy’ you whispered, before patting his flank and heading back into the fray. ‘Come on handsome. Let’s do some good ol’ Halloween fun.’

With Mig’s hand gripped tight in your own, you dragged him into the depths of the party to see what Miguel had allowed them to get away with.

It seems he’d allowed them to get away with a lot.

The training station with the pop-out targets had been turned into a makeshift haunted house. They’d put up fake holographic haybales to hide the pop-outs, creating a labyrinth of twists and turns with pop-up villains around the bend of each corner. The lights were so dim that spiders kept falling into themselves.

You dragged Mig in with you. He didn’t quite understand that the fear was supposed to be fun, however, and every time something popped up and caused you to squeak with shock he would instinctively pounce on it like a wild beast, crushing and tearing the flimsy holographic cut-out to pieces. By the time you reached the end the poor thing was sparking and fizzling, now nothing more than a boring hay maze filled with decapitated doc oc figures spewing gibberish one-liners.

You hurried away and hoped that anyone going in after you didn’t realize who had destroyed it. Either way, it was certainly fun.

On the higher levels, they’d set up a fake trick-or-treating scenario, with spiders lounging in different offices so others could show up, knock on their doors, and beg for candy while showing off your outfits. You were pretty excited to show off your moth costume, especially with Mig at your side, but every time you knocked on a door the response was almost always the same. They’d open it with a cheery laugh, expecting to see one of their fellows in costume, only to blanch at the sight of Mig at your back. They never even gave you the chance to speak. They’d just throw candy at your feet and slam the door, leaving you to awkwardly scoop it back up.

At least twice you’d knock and receive on response, only to realize that the spiders were peering at you from behind the curtained window. The moment you’d lock eyes the curtain would fall, hiding their cowering faces like mice from a cat. In those instances, it was Mig who had to drag you away.

It was a little disheartening, but you refused to let it bother you too much. You went through the entire hall, knocking on every door, and then led Mig to a balcony overlooking the main lobby below so you could swing your feet and share your haul.

You basked in the quiet time together. You’d throw candy into his mouth only to get it stuck in his fur, and then you’d horrify him by getting it out with your teeth. You’d test him on sour candy to see how much he could manage, and giggle at the way he writhed and rustled at the overstimulation.

Once you’d calmed down a little you made your way towards the games corner, which was a little more fun. There was a re-creation of a classic arcade, ones that in Miguel’s timeline were almost extinct, and you tried your hand at those with Mig. He was god awful at video games. His hands were huge and undexterous, barely capable of holding either the panel controls or the guns, but he liked seeing you win, so he just pretended to be trying.

There was a room hosting a screening of old, spooky horror films in black and white at the far end of the building, but Mig was too big to even fit through the door, so you sat in the doorway and described the film to him in horrifying detail. You may have exaggerated a few things.

When someone complained you were letting in too much light you used your savings to buy up the entire popcorn stand and ran off with it bulked onto Mig’s back like a horse, followed by a trail of irritated, hungry film viewers.

The moon was at its peak by the time you began to slow down. You’d been absolute menaces in just about every activity the night offered, and you’d been left with a flushed face and a mild tummy ache. Still, you weren’t perturbed. You were extremely content with Miguel’s hand gripped in your own, and so was he.

Mig hadn’t felt this good since he turned. In fact… The more he thought about it, he hadn’t felt this good ever. He was such a punk teenager that he could never allow himself to be happy, and Alchemax was a slog. Dana had loved him, sure, but looking back, it felt… superficial. It felt, childish.

He was so immature with you, by all accounts. The rabid sex, the possessiveness, the menace energy, and the constant breaking of rules. And yet… He felt older with you. He felt, settled. It was like he was clawing back the decade of life he lost out on in the woods alone, and you never once complained.

He was in love. He was a giddy, stupid fool in love, and that made it so much more real.

‘You having fun, my love?’

Mig paused in his contented daydreaming to glance down. You were peering up at him with those soft eyes, your face glowing as you smiled. He smiled back.

‘Yes. Of course, mi tesoro. Why do you ask?’

‘Your butt’s wiggling.’

Mig’s smile faltered for a second. He spun around and discovered that, just as you’d said, his abdomen was rustling with glee. It was an involuntary reflex he’d never learned to control. He turned back with a rather flushed expression, but that embarrassment wasn’t allowed to fester for long. You threw yourself against his side and squeezed him, burying right into his fur.

‘Oh, you goof. God, it feels so good to see you happy.’

Your voice almost cracked as you spoke the words directly into his soft down. Mig was left speechless.

Happy. Yes, he was happy. Truly happy.

‘Do we have anything else left to try?’ Mig asked. You pouted and turned a full 360 degrees in a circle, pondering that same question. You could see the holographic hay maze, the food stand, the apples and the—

‘OH!’

You grasped Mig’s hand and pulled, attempting to drag him towards the far side of the lobby.

‘DANCE!’

Mig remained rooted to the spot, totally unphased by your attempt to shift him. You had his hand in yours and you were tugging, your feet slipping on the fine marble flooring, but he didn’t move a single inch.

‘Mi tesoro…’

As Mig spoke he lightly tugged, and immediately you were lifted off the floor and into the air. He raised you by your hand as if you weighed nothing before dropping you into his arms.

‘What? What’s up?’ you asked while settling down. You could see the avoidance in his expression, the way he darted his eyes and shrugged.

‘I don’t… Know if I can dance, here’ he replied slowly.

‘You love dancing though! What? Is it—’

You paused and darted your own eyes. People were still staring.

All day, they’d been staring. All day.

The staring, the whispers, the judgment. You couldn’t stand it a second longer. The idea that even now, when he had every right to just exist, Mig was still afraid of being squashed like a bug, it was too much. You finally felt your bristling, broiling irritation at their gawking eyes spill over.

‘No! Come on!’

You squirmed like a hyperactive puppy in his grip until he was forced to let you go, and without saying a thing you grabbed his hands and began guiding him again. Mig sighed.

‘Tesoro—’

‘Come on! We’re gonna dance!’

‘Arañita—’

‘Baby! Baby. Just- okay, listen to me.’

You tugged one more time before pausing, but you kept both of his hands tightly gripped within your own. You felt every bump, every calloused ridge, every fine hair on his knuckles, and every sharp claw protruding from the ends of his fingertips. He returned your stare.

‘I want you to be happy’ you insisted.

‘I… Arañita, I am happy, I just—’ Mig choked on his words when he saw the group staring at him from across the lobby. You pinched his hand to draw him back.

‘They don’t matter’ you whispered. ‘They don’t. And I’ll sit here until you’re ready, but… You love dancing. I know you do. It makes you happy. So let’s do it, Mig.’

The great, terrifying spider stared down at you in a state of absolute stillness.

For a moment, you worried you’d perhaps upset him.

You hadn’t though. Instead, it was the opposite. He was staying utterly still so that he didn’t break, so that he didn’t fall into a rustling, tapping, mewling mess. That enormous, terrifying, muscular beast of a man felt his heart nearly triple over so hard it hurt.

He did love dancing. And you knew that. And you didn’t care who stared.

He pursed his lips to avoid letting out any, ‘unmasculine’ noises, which you immediately noticed. Your eyes widened and your lips parted in an attempt to ask, ‘Mig are you crying?’, but the words never came.

Because before they could be spoken, the air was filled with a soft, dull, tap.

Mig tapped his huge paw, and then the next, and then the next. He moved closer to you as he did.

Tap, tap, tap.

You knew people were staring. You felt their eyes glowing in the dim light, like bats in a cave, straining to watch this odd display. They would always be staring, and you knew that now.

But right now, it was just you. It was just him.

Your smile widened until it hurt your cheeks, and you began to tap right back.

You moved with him towards the hall, letting the music fill your ears. Louder, louder, pulsing under your feet. His tapping got faster, and he began to match the rhythm.

Never once did he let go of your hand. Never once did he let go of you. You were all he could see, dancing and swaying and moving with all the grace of an impromptu, drunken rave with a partner three times your size. Miguel was graceful, precise, just like the spider he was, but your clumsiness only endeared him more.

Round and round you went under the golden glow of the lights above. You moved until you were dizzy, you spun and crossed your feet until your ankles hurt.

Mig got so excited that he whisked you off of your feet. He raised you to his chest and reared his body high, raising his front four legs as if throwing you up into the heavens. You squealed with joy and instinctively grasped his face, and he gazed at you with all the revelry of a dying man staring at an angel.

In that moment, time seemed to stop. Your mouth widened into the widest smile, ready to burst into a fit of pure, unspoiled laughter.

But your laughter never reached him.

That sweet, beautiful sound was cut short by a dull rumbling from further up the building. It was not explosive, nor was it even particularly loud, but it was deafening. It seemed to drown out every other sound in existence.

Mig stared at you, and in unison, your smiles began to fade.

You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to turn your head. You could see the hair on Mig’s abdomen slowly rising to stand on end, the sign of his animalistic instincts kicking in, and in turn, you felt the hair on your nape rising with the goosebumps running up your skin.

Something in your subconscious could feel what was about to happen far before your other senses ever felt it. Call it a spider-sense, call it a sixth sense, or call it dumb intuition. Whatever it was, you knew.

You knew.

The explosion followed soon after.

A horrifying whistle filled the HQ, echoing through each corridor before punctuating in a violent burst. A flash of fire erupted from one of the higher chambers in the higher HQ, and its debris scattered across the open-plan beams in a raining cascade.

‘ARAÑITA!’

Mig’s instinct was to grasp you to his chest. You were nowhere near the fire and yet it was all he could think to do. His forelegs and human arms reached out and snatched you, drawing you close to his body as he turned his back on the sound, as if he could somehow swallow all of the potential damage with his own form.

But no damage came. As the society gasped and cried and even screamed, you barely heard it, because your ear was pressed too close to Mig’s chest. All you heard was his heartbeat, thudding hard and fast against the side of your head.

It took you a moment for the shock to die down, but the moment it did you began wrestling your way out of Mig’s grasp to assess the damage. You were still a hero, after all. Mig kept his hands close to your waist as you scurried over him and gazed out over the ground to assess the damage.

Luckily nobody seemed to be hurt. Their spider senses had kicked in with enough time to jump aside, and the debris was only a few smoldering lumps.

Instinctively your eyes went up, following the trail of destruction to its source. A single, open hole in the side of the wall, a gaping maw now spewing black smoke from within.

Mig’s eyes followed your own, and immediately he froze. Your blood ran cold.

‘No, no, no—’

You both knew where the fire was coming from. The smoke curled in the air like a snake, slithering out from the entrance to Miguel’s office.

It felt like your heart exploded.

‘Miguel…’

You moved reflexively. You were a spider, after all, and your instinct was always to protect, but this wasn’t just anyone. In that moment, despite all your animosities and the strangeness of your relationship, you felt fear. You felt pain. You felt terror that Miguel was hurt, or even worse, gone.

You prepped your web-shooters and rushed into action, but Mig wouldn’t let you move. He caught you by the nape right as you moved to swing and dragged you back to the floor kicking and yelling.

‘Mig! He—’

‘I know!’

Mig spat you out onto the floor with all the tenderness his panic would allow him to muster. His head was darting so fast it hurt, spinning between you and the smoke as he scuttled on the spot.

‘MIG! He was in there—’

‘I KNOW! I am going, you stay here!’ Mig insisted, his voice rising into a firm bark.

‘Mig, what are you doing!?’ you cried.

‘You stay here! It could be dangerous!’

‘I-If it’s dangerous then I should GO, why should you go?! I don’t want you to get hurt—’

‘I have to go, arañita!’

‘Mig—!’

‘HE’S ME!’

That was all Mig could say before he barrelled his way through the crowd, leaving you behind in the dust. He didn’t bother to look at who he pushed aside, nor who he trampled on his way.

He knew in his heart Miguel was alive. He felt down to the core of his soul that he would have felt it if Miguel died. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t injured. It didn’t mean he couldn’t still die, and so he pushed his body to the brink of its physical capability to climb that impossible architecture, because he refused to know what it felt like. He refused to feel his other self die like this.

When he reached the corridor entrance the other spiders were all trying to evacuate. They blocked his body like a tidal wave, a sea of tiny bodies pressing on his legs and threatening to buckle them in their panic. He had to physically force his way through them, using the strength in his upper arms to help propel the smaller spiders to the exit.

‘GO, GO!’

‘Mig?!’

He glanced up and squinted in the darkness, but he could only see the faint outline of someone moving towards him. Luckily, he remembered that voice.

‘Jessica?!’

‘Fuck- FUCK! Something blew in there!’ she cried back as she hurried towards his voice. ‘I left him in the middle of some- fucking- I don’t know what he was doing, but then the air just hit me—’

‘It’s okay. Go back down, I’ll find him.’

‘You- what?!’

Jess paused and spun right as she reached the exit, only to lose Mig into the dark, curling smoke. She screamed after him to no avail.

‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!’

‘MIGUEL!’

Mig’s first call elicited nothing. He heard someone yelling at him from back out in the main lobby, but he refused to acknowledge it. He was solely focused on the thick of the smoke and the body he knew was contained within it.

‘MIGUEL?!!’

His second cry echoed as he stumbled forward, blindly grasping at the walls for guidance. The smoke grew thicker as Mig descended toward the main lab. As a larger beast than any other in the society he could just about handle the intake into his lungs, but not for long. He knew he had to be fast.

He blindly clambered deeper, stumbling over fallen debris and smoldering electronics. With one hand over his mouth, he screamed again.

‘MIGUEL!’

Through the crackling of the fire, a response finally came.

‘GET OUT!’

Mig felt his chest lighten. That was him. That was Miguel.

‘I’m coming through! Can you move?’

‘GET! OUT!’

Mig paid no mind to the repeated cry. He could tell Miguel’s voice was hoarse and slightly muffled, implying he was trapped beneath something. He continued forward until his clawed hands finally grasped the rim of his laboratory door.

It was a mess. It looked like a shockwave of some kind of flown out and destabilized a lot of the beams above, and it had sent the floating desk plummeting into the ground. The broken electronics must have caused the fire and the smoke. He could see them flickering and burning in the corners. 

‘MIGUEL! I AM HERE, TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE!’

‘Argh- STUPID, BASTARD, BUG—’

Miguel's last angry cry thankfully drew Mig’s eye straight to him. He was just visible through the debris. His body was crushed under several pieces of rebar, with only his upper torso visible through the swirling grey. Thankfully he didn’t seem to have been pierced by any of them. He had his head down in an attempt to avoid breathing in the smoke, which meant he likely couldn’t get out on his own.

Mig wasted no time scuttling across the floor towards him.

‘Miguel!’

With almost painful ease Mig grasped the rebar and eased it upward, filling the room with the spine-tingling scraping of metal on metal. Miguel gritted his teeth and dragged himself out like a cat, digging his claws into the floor before wrenching himself forward as far as he could. The moment his rear and thighs were free Mig dropped the rebar and yanked him by the nape the rest of the way.

‘ARGH!’

The two men collapsed on the verge of the exit, panting and coughing from the strain. Miguel’s suit was torn and sparking around his hips and thighs, the hologram seemingly torn in huge strips across his skin, but he was otherwise alive.

‘It… I-I don’t know what happened’ Miguel gasped.

‘Was it a test?!’

‘A-Argh… I-I was just, trying to run the tests, and it—’

Miguel broke down mid-explanation, sinking into another coughing fit.

‘What? It what?’ Mig snapped. ‘Where is the serum?’

‘I… I saw… I saw…’

Miguel heaved his chest as he forced the words out. ‘I-I thought I saw… A-An anomaly…’

‘A what?!’ Mig cried. He raised his head to try and make anything out, but he could see only one thing through the heavy smoke: The lab desk, the holograms, and their work still precariously balanced on its surface.

The desk where they worked had thrown a lot of the testing equipment to the floor when it collapsed, shattering it in the process. The antidote for Micaela was still safely held inside a holographic cube cage, which was designed to withstand gravity by keeping the contents inside stable at all times.

But the serum for you…

The serum had been taken out for its test, and the container had shattered. Half of it was smeared across the desk, dripping to the floor, shuddering with unstable energy as it morphed and fluctuated like liquid silver. The other half of it was still in the container, which by some miracle was propped up by a single textbook.

He could salvage it still. There was enough to salvage their experiment, he knew it.

He went to move, to save it, only to freeze once more. His eyes were drawn upward by a low, shuddered creak.

Debris. Heavy, creaking debris, slowly inching downward from where the presumed explosion had dislodged it.

Mig felt his whole body go cold.

‘I-I panicked’ Miguel wheezed. ‘I… I-I shut it down mid-test, it just- the fuses blew—’

‘No, no, no’ Mig whispered. ‘No, no—’

The debris was moving. That precarious, hanging debris was now swinging from side to side, like an axe preparing for the block. It creaked with an almost eerie, otherworldy groan.

Mig’s pupils dilated as he stared that debris down.

It wasn’t going to hit him. He knew that. But it would hit what was beneath it.

His eyes lowered and fixated on the table beneath the debris’ path.

One on side, the serum that would allow you to live in his universe. On the other, the serum to heal Gabriel’s daughter.

The debris began to groan as it inched ever lower. He felt his blood run cold.

No, no, no, NO, NO.

He had time. He had time to grab both. He had time. He had TIME.

Mig began to scurry towards the table, his spider legs struggling to move over the uneven terrain.

No, no, No, No, I have TIME! I HAVE TIME!

The debris inched lower. A wire strained and screeched as it struggled to hold its own weight. Metal poles and broken concrete littered the floor, impeding his movement like the hands of fate.

I CAN GRAB BOTH! JUST GO! I CAN GRAB BOTH!

A wire snapped. The debris sank deeper.

He moved faster, physically clawing on all fours to reach the table. He could see and feel nothing else in that moment but the dangling claws of fate above.

NO! NO, NO, NO—

And then, it snapped.

In that moment, there was only a second. There was no time to choose, no time to think. It was only instinct that could guide him. There was only something higher, something deep inside him that knew to act on pure adrenaline alone, that could make the decision that it did.

Mig threw himself at the table.

In one second, he’d grasped in.

In two seconds, he’d rolled out the other side.

In two and a half seconds, the debris had hit the table.

In a violent clatter the table burst and his body hit the floor with a deafening crunch. He could feel the concrete beneath cracking from the impact. He rolled twice before collapsing onto his back, his huge abdominal legs folded in for safety, and his hands clutched tight to his chest.

Between his tightly bound fingers, a tiny little glow was emanating.

He’d made it just in time, but only to grasp the antidote for Micaela.

Mig’s hands were shaking as he clutched it to his chest. He was wheezing, coughing painfully from the strain of the smoke, but he couldn’t even think about his own lungs in that moment, because his heart hurt more.

He was in shock. He was frozen.

It took Miguel physically screaming to draw him out of his own stupor.

‘MIG! GET OUT OF HERE YOU IDIOT, NOW!’

Mig was numb as he raised his head. He couldn’t hear anything beyond a muffled cry. It felt like he was underwater, with everything moving painfully slow. He shuddered as he pushed himself up onto his knees.

‘I… N-No, no…’

‘MIG, RUN!’

He blinked at the sight of Miguel clawing towards him. He blinked, and he turned, and he saw it.

A tiny, unstable black dot, one that seemed to spark and burst like a solar flare. It was slowly formulating out of the fallen debris, moving upward from the spot where the serum had been.

He frowned, unable to even comprehend what he was seeing.

‘… W-What, is that…?’

He clutched Micaela’s antidote and squinted at the growing dot. It looked… unnatural. Like a physical hole in reality, like a dead pixel on a camera brought to life. He blinked, and he could have sworn it’d gotten bigger.

Growing. Morphing. Eating.

A universal anomaly. A disruption. A glitch.

Miguel was beyond rational thought at this point. His eyes were so wide they’d gone bloodshot, his fangs extended to a painful degree. He was eyeing up that black, glitching spot like it was a demon straight from hell, like it was a ghost coming back to haunt him. He was in a living nightmare, and all he could see was red. He had to fight to stay lucid, to not slip back into the screams of a little girl he couldn’t save.

He screamed again.

‘MIG PLEASE! GET OUT OF HERE!’

Mig stumbled to his feet all while staring at the growing anomaly. It was tainting everything in its path. It would touch a piece of debris and cause it to shudder, glitching in and out of existence before finally being consumed by the darkness. He moved around it in a circle, like prey pacing around a predator, until he felt Miguel grab his arm.

‘GO, NOW!’

The sharp pinch of Miguel’s claws finally triggered Mig’s instincts, and he turned and fled. Miguel fled behind him, all while screaming on his phone to get a stabilizer in there now.

The two variants burst out of the entrance to Miguel’s office and out of the smoke-filled hallway in a flurry of coughs and wheezes, only to be met by a gaggle of terrified spiders. Their voices created a deafening hum around them, one that was impossible to drown out. You were at the front of the crowd when the two burst forth from the smoke, and without even thinking you rushed immediately to Mig’s side.

‘MIG! Jesus, christ you—oh my god, you’re okay!’

Your wailing did not move Mig to comfort you. In fact, your voice didn’t even seem to reach him. He stumbled blindly until his forehead hit the nearest wall, all while you watched in stupefied horror.

‘Mig?!’

You followed him closely but your hands hovered, unsure of whether to touch him or not. You’d never seen him so shell-shocked.

‘Mig? Baby, hey- hey, look at me sweetheart, I’m here—’

Your voice was just dead noise in his ears. Mig couldn’t hear anything but ringing, and he could see nothing but that little black void slowly growing on the floor. A black hole, an endless sucking abyss, the dark iris of an eye sent by the cosmos to mock him.

You continued to tug at Mig’s fur as he gripped the wall, pleading for him to look at you, but you turned when you heard Miguel wheezing. He’d staggered out into the fray in an attempt to appear in control, and was waving away the spider nurses with one hand while ringing up Lyla with the other.

‘Lyla, get the… G-Get the team in, now. We need… We need emergency, anomaly control’ he panted.

‘Miguel?’ you squeaked. He shot you a quick, red-eyed stare before turning away, unable to hide the agony your face caused him. The confusion in your eyes, the fear, the fact that you didn’t know what had been done, it made his chest so tight that it hurt.

‘Lyla! I said… I said, we need emergency anomaly control, now! No—’

‘You…’

Miguel froze when he heard that violent, echoing hiss, as did you.

Mig turned on Miguel with vicious eyes. Out of seemingly nowhere his soft, frightened face had been twisted with a deep, paranoid rage, a feeling of hopelessness that could find no outlet but despair.

‘YOU—YOU DID THIS!’

He launched himself at Miguel, the two tousling as they collapsed onto the hard floor. A horrified cry rang out through the other spiders but they were far too afraid to intervene, not when the saw the splash of scarlet erupt from Mig's claws. For a moment you were also too shocked and confused to even intervene, but when you saw Mig physically slash Miguel’s chest you darted forward to try and drag them apart.

‘MIG- STOP, SH- MIG!’ 

You screamed to get his attention, but he wasn't listening. He pinned Miguel down and try to claw at his face. 

‘YOU! YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE, DIDN’T YOU!’ he wailed. 

No matter how hard you pulled at Mig’s fur he refused. Miguel choked and gasped, his claws scraping at Mig’s face in an attempt to snap him from this emotional trance.

‘I DIDN’T- DO, THIS—’ Miguel wheezed.

‘YOU DID THIS! YOU BLEW IT UP, DIDN’T YOU!’ Mig screamed. ‘YOU COULDN’T STAND- ME- BEING HAPPY, YOU COULDN’T!’

‘I DIDN’T, DO THIS, YOU IDIOT—’

‘I’LL KILL YOU!’

‘MIG!!’

In a moment of panic, you bit Mig’s finger. You sank your teeth into the skin with just enough force to create an impression, but nowhere near strong enough to cause damage. You just wanted him to stop. You just wanted him to stop. And somehow, he did. The sudden jolt of pain broke through Mig's concentration, though it did nothing to stop the red mist coating his senses. He squirmed and spun and shook his hand on instinct, throwing your body to the floor. It was the sound of your pained squeak that broke the spell fully.

‘Arañita?!’

He looked down and finally saw you there, clutching your hand, and his eyes flashed. He saw Dana, clumped and bloody on the floor. He saw the anomaly growing. He saw all the dreams he’d had where he’d hurt you, where he’d broken you, where he’d given in to his instincts and eaten you whole.

‘Arañita, n-no, no—’

He collapsed and reached out with shaking hands, too afraid to touch you. It was you who had to take his hand, showing him that he wouldn’t hurt you again, though you couldn’t hide the disappointment and hurt in your eyes at what he’d done. You knew it was an accident, and you hadn't been hurt badly, but that didn't make it okay. However, in that moment, your discomfort only furthered his panic. 

'N-No... No, no, mi tesoro, I'm so sorry.' 

‘M-Mig, just… Just calm, down, we can talk—’

‘I’m sorry’ Mig wailed. ‘I-I’m sorry, I didn’t- I-I didn't see you, I-I can’t—’

‘Shh, hey—’

‘I don’t want to hurt you’ Mig sobbed. ‘I-I don’t, I don’t, I—’

He turned and saw the hundreds of spiders staring at you all, their eyes a blurry sea of judgment. It was like staring at some eldritch monster with a thousand eyes, all of them peering right into his soul. He couldn’t stand it.

‘I-I don’t want to hurt you’ he sobbed. ‘I-I love you, arañita, I-I love you—’

‘I love you Mig’ you replied, and this time your own voice broke. ‘G-God damn it, just- listen, please—’

‘I-I’m sorry, arañita—’

‘I know, I know—

‘I’m sorry!’

In the middle of Mig’s breakdown, Miguel finally pushed himself to his feet. Once again he pushed away the nurses and first-aid professionals trying to tend to his new wounds. Instead, he turned on Mig, his eyes narrowed and glowering.

You happened to see him staring, which drew Mig’s eyes to the same spot. All three of you stared at each other.

Miguel could have snapped at him. That’s what the old Miguel would have done. Snapped at him, blaming him for all of this mess, right before turning and fleeing the scene.

But he didn’t.

Miguel stormed forward and grabbed Mig by the head. He pressed their foreheads together, holding them nose to nose, and he shared in that despair.

‘I swear, I didn’t do this, but I- I’m sorry’ he forced out. ‘I’m sorry. I know. I know, and I am sorry.’

As unflattering as it was to admit, Miguel could only truly relate to his counterpart when he saw his own suffering inside him. Even before his attempt to reconcile for his own hypocrisy, this had held true. He’d saved him from the Dana accident for a reason. He knew what it meant to feel as if they were doomed, to fight so hard for a life where they could just be happy only to be told by the very universe itself that it could never be.

When he saw the pain he tried so hard to hide reflected in Mig’s eyes, his eyes, it broke him. He could deny it no longer.

‘I’m sorry’ Miguel whispered, his voice cracking ever so slightly from its usual cold, husky tone. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’

Mig couldn’t take it. He broke, his body heaving a single, dry sob of despair, too exhausted to even wail. His lips parted but no sound came out.

‘I’m sorry’ Miguel repeated. He sounded miserable. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘S-Stop it. Stop saying that’ Mig wheezed.

‘I’m sorry, Mig.’

‘We have to- we- we can try again.’ Mig swallowed down the lump in his throat and tried his best to speak. ‘We just have to try again. It’s okay. T-The instability, the explosion, I think it set off the anomaly, but it’s not… It’s okay. We just need to be careful. It’ll be okay. We can try again.’

Miguel didn’t reflect Mig’s optimism. Instead, he looked drained. He looked broken.

‘… We can’t, do that, Mig.’

‘Why?! We nearly had it, we—’

‘Mig.’

‘No! NO, We nearly had it—’

‘Mig, please—’

‘NO! NO, NO—’

‘Mig…’

As Miguel held his gaze, Mig saw again that deep, haunting well at the pit of his iris. The darkness that went down, down, to a memory that had been burned into his eyes forever. The memory of just one, little, black hole, swelling until it consumed an entire universe.

A million people’s blood on his hands, and the ghostly stain of a little girl cradled in his arms.

Miguel hadn’t even realized that his hands were outstretched. He looked down, slowly, and realized he was frozen in the same position he’d taken on that day, when she vanished from his grip. When he’d cradled her so hard he thought he could somehow will her back to life.

‘I… There was an anomaly’ Miguel repeated slowly, almost as if in a dream. Mig felt his body caving in. He buckled like a horse, sinking and melting beneath the weight of what he knew was to come. ‘When it broke… You saw it, Mig…’

‘We have to- we have to try’ Mig repeated desperately.

‘There was an anomaly, Mig’ Miguel said, and the coldness of his tone drew even Mig to pause.

‘There was an anomaly, when it broke. That was exactly what I feared. We are meddling with things far beyond ourselves, far beyond the natural order, do you understand?’

‘No, no… It, just…’

‘Mig.’

The spider hybrid froze, his claws outstretched in a pleading manner. He looked broken.

‘Mig, I can’t allow this’ Miguel hissed, speaking in tones that only you and Mig could hear. ‘I can’t. I saw what messing with the canon like this does, and I will never see it again. I-I would rather die. Do you understand?’

Mig swallowed hard, only to find his throat had closed up. ‘… Please… Miguel—’

‘I saw this before.’

This time Miguel whispered, and he leaned in against Mig’s ear so that you couldn’t hear him. ‘I did this before. I messed with the universal stability, the webs. I tried to force myself into a universe I was never meant to be in. I-I did it for a family. I did it so I could be happy. And I watched that anomaly grow, and consume, and eat up my baby until she was nothing.’

Mig felt like ice water was going down his spine, trickling over the sharp bone beneath his skin and chilling him to the core. It was the most unpleasant, agonizing sensation he’d ever felt. He could almost see it; the little girl, the screams, the vanishing.

‘I. Would rather. Die’ Miguel repeated in slow, sharp terms, making his stance clear with not a drop of uncertainty. ‘I would rather throw myself, into that anomaly, than see anyone else ruined by it. I can’t. Mig, I can’t. I can’t see any more lives lost.’

Mig wanted to say something. He wanted to say anything.

But what did he say?

When he looked at Miguel, he knew there was no changing his mind. He had no serum left to test, no serum left to double-check. He’d saved Micaela’s antidote instead, because deep down, they were Spider-Man for a reason. Miguel O’Hara was a miserable creature, who loved far, far too much.

And he would suffer for that, forever. And so would you.

‘T-There’s… There’s nothing we can do?’

You finally stepped in and croaked out that question to Miguel, almost as if in shock. Miguel sombrely nodded.

‘I’ll do whatever I can, with the other elites’ Miguel murmured. ‘I might be able to get an agreement to sanction the relationship, even without the serum. The test still doesn’t prove that being together will cause any complications, just… Just that a combining of universal DNA might. So, no serum, and… And no children.’

‘But, we can still be together?’ you whispered. Miguel refused to nod, which caused your gut to twist.

‘… I’ll do what I can’ he murmured. ‘I will push the process as far as it can go. I promise.’

Mig nodded, but he looked numb as he did so. He didn’t even move when you crept back up to take his hand. He squeezed your fingers, clutching your delicate wrist so hard he could have snapped it, but he didn’t look at you.

Even when you whispered, even when your heart broke and your eyes grew wet in the face of his coldness, he didn’t look at you.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t face the loss.

That beautiful life was gone.

[destructionray]

Hobie Brown/Spiderpunk Relationship HC's

spider-punk relationship hc's?? This is the first time I've shared my work so sorry if it's bad i genuinely don't know how to write stuff </3 also i tried to keep the reader gender-neutral but i might be a little biased because im transmasc (fuck fem!readers i actually hate yall/j) i also tried to keep it spoiler-free

1.3k words

warnings: none (okay maybe a tiny bit of curse words)

ALWAYS sharing earbuds. there's not a single time this man will let you sit next to him without listening to some of his jams

I KNOW THIS MAN GIVES A GOOD CUDDLE!!

hes usually the type to only give half-hugs, having just an arm around your shoulder or waist when you're just chilling

but when you ask for a real hug?? It'll literally be the most comforting thing.

pulling you in to his chest and wrapping his arms around you tightly, one hand around your shoulder and the other on your back, pressing his body up against yours tightly

and he kisses the top of ur head!!

BUT hes a little pissed that he has to take off his jacket every time because of how spiky it is

he can't count the amount of times you've tried to rest your head on his shoulder but ended up getting poked by the spikes on his jacket.

he LOVES hugging you from behind

he's not super touchy, but when he's around a lot of people he'll always be touching you in some way.

having his hand in your back pocket, having a hand on your hip, holding eachothers pinkies

i swear he has a a thing for hips or waists/j

ESPECIALLY touchy in front of authorities, he'll make out with you in front of them just to piss them off.

the hand placement when he kisses yoy oh my godddd

either a hand on your cheek and/or around your waist, or when you're making out he has his hand on the back of your head, pushing you closer to him

neck kisses <3333

there's almost no way you could be taller than him, my guy is 6'3 AND wears platforms.

prepare to be used as an armrest for him.

you like his piercings? He'll do one for you.

that man has never paid for a single piercing in his LIFE.

insisted on doing piercings for you, especially if you had never had any done before.

he'll do stick n pokes for you aswell if you're interested in getting a tattoo.

if you're an artist, he'll let you do some on him aswell.

BEGGED you to get matching tattoos and/or piercings

he's so cute, how could you say no?

calls you "love" ALL THE TIME. You're not entirely sure if it's because he loves you or if it's just a weird thing brits do

your dates are mostly going to strange or abandoned places and hanging/having a picnic/listening to music/mildly illegal stuff, or sneaking into a movie theater to watch stuff without paying.

if you're a Spider-person too, you guys definetily have had a romantic moment on top of skyscraper before.

if you're afraid of heights, he'll hold you in his arms the entire time he takes you to a place high up. he'll never let you go

he noticed that you miss him a lot, so made you your own watch to travel to his dimension or the Spider-society at any time

he totally has a ton of pictures with you in his room, printed by some cheap shitty polariod camera

When he gets injured, he immideately resorts to you instead of going to a hospital or proper medic

He doesn't like seeing you get worried about him, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't love the extra attention and care you gave him, and the time you spend together patching him up.

Shows his love instead of telling you

Only says "i love you" in special moments (which sometimes could just be spending time cuddling & relaxing together after a bad day)

Literally all over you when he's tired or after a day of being Spider-Punk

Has 100% yelled at or completely ignored Miguel for calling him on a mission while he's with you.

You play an instrument? He'll practice with you every single day.

If you don't have any motivation to, he'll be your motivation. He loves hearing you play.

If you were interested in playing guitar, he totally sat for hours and teached you chords.

Holding your hand to make it press down on the strings, and saying "good job" or other little praises whenever you got it right.

You're interested in playing drums? He asked Gwen to come over and practice with you, and he was you two's hypeman.

He loves seeing you get along well with his best friends.

If you tell him your favorite song(s), he secretly learns it on his guitar until he's perfected it and then plays it for you.

Your reactions are always so amusing to him, and he loves it.

Makes you playlists with both his and your favorite songs so you can listen to them together

Spotify playlists? Nope, he dowloaded all the music (probably illegally) and burned them on CD's.

He gave you a portable CD player so you could listen to his playlists at any time.

At his gigs, he always makes sure you're as close to the stage as possible so he can keep an eye on you

You're always invited to his shows, no matter what, and he'll always play better and show off more when he sees you in the crowd

Brings you backstage just to give you a kiss between songs

most likely wrote you a few songs (or more cough cough)

Gave you one of his studded bracelets and said it looks good on you, even if it totally clashes with your style.

He loves seeing you wear it, and it's like you're being constantly reminded of him whenever you wear it.

Ever try his stuff on? It's yours now.

Clothes? no doubt. Jewlery? Yours. Literally anything else? You can have it.

He even gives you guitar picks from his shows, even if you have no use for them

He'll totally nick some of your sweaters or accessories once in a while though.

On the topic of gifts, he always steals small things he sees you looking at for a suspiciously long time in store

He's like a crow, always stealing shiny things (jewlery)

Yeah, he's definetily a bit of a kleptomaniac.

His criminal record must be insane just bc of his stealing habit

He totally makes you custom pins or patches with your favorite bands logos

Hes a very "DIY" kind of guy

He doesn't wanna spend money on things that are overpriced simply because it's popular, so a lot of the gifts he gives you are handmade

VERY skilled at making things though

That man does EVERYTHING.

Crochet, sewing, knitting, drawing, painting, handicraft, sculpting, you name it.

He's also surprisingly good at cooking/baking. (But sadly he doesn't believe in expiration dates/j)

MATCHING NAILS!!!

he usually colors his nails in with black sharpie, but he'll 100% let you paint his nails with actual nail polish

Pulling up at your place when he's drunk isn't an uncommon occurence.

He's a very affectionate drunk.

Especially if he's tired.

He'll tell you how much he loves you, joke around, and always has at least one arm slung around your shoulder

Never uses the front door to your house/apartment.

Always climbing through your windows, because he insists it's easier than knocking on a door.

Plus, if you still live with your parents, it'll make sneaking in at night WAY easier.

He doesn't believe in marriage. Says it's a way for the government to control your relationship and a waste of money

He loves stuff like promise rings though

His accent is so thick, so you're like a translator for him whenever someone doesn't understand him/j

Not related to Hobie, but Pavitr ships you two HARD. He NEVER let you hear the end of it when he first saw you guys kiss.

Pav's always making stupid cute and petty little remarks about your relationship, but he finds you two absolutely adorable.

feel free to give advice or anything in the comments because i genuinely dont know if this is good or nah,,

[doubledown]

Yall already know the drill no MLM fetish people as for minors go while I'd prefer you not to interact I cant control what you do

So this is abit of a specific fic for a certain someone ( you know who you are pooks 💕 )

The reader is Latino with a brown complextion feel free to imagine them in whatever shade you want

The reader will be male and masc terms will be used for them

Some Spanish will be in this used in this fic but a translation with be provided so dont worry about havin to go to google translate

This will most likely be around 2 or 3 parts depending on my motivation

ALSO I HAVE NOT WATCHED THE MOVIE so uh if its not like canon him I'm sorry 🧍‍♀️

Degration, Hook up, Hand job, Public Sex, Cheating, S_lf h_rm ( not described implied tho ), HEAVY Voice Kink

HEAVY on criticism. Trying out a new writing style since I noticed that the one I currently due really doesn't stimulate my brain enough which leads to writer's block. SO YEAH LMFAO HAVE FUN ( P.S THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITEEE AND IT IS KINDA LONG SO SEAT BACKK AND ENJOYYYYYYY )🧍‍♀️

-------------------------------------------------------

Your mama says I'm a fool

And yeah, maybe that's true 'cause I can't

stop thinkin' 'bout you

I'm tryin'

I'm tryin' not to forget my words

'Cause when I'm around you, I tend to keep

changin' my mind

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Miguel murmered as the smell of heavy whiskey and cheap liquor crowded around him. He wasn't a drinker at all. He hadn't even thought about it. Well.....not until today. Everything was just going to shit. So he figured he drown himself in something other then self destruction and exhaustion. At least this would kill his worries for awhile after all what's the point of multiverse travel if you couldn't do somewhere where you were unknown? A place you could simply escape without anybody finding you or judging you for your actions. Nobody to put a strong and dominate front for. Just simply unknown and out of touch. " What's on your mind to drink tonight? " The bartender asked abit of a friendly smile on his face. Miguel honestly didn't know what to choose so he just said the first brand of liquor that came to mind. " Just a few shots of fireball.." He said resting his arms on the bar. " Alright hot shot your drinks will be ready in abit. " The bartender said quickly soon off to go take other orders while simultaneously making drinks. He couldn't say he wasn't impressed in all honesty but he had seen it done by failedly by parker. He always tended to try things that really didn't suit him. The bartender looked up and Miguel heart almost sunk in his chest when he spoke. " Buyin a drink or did ya miss me y/n? " The bartender asked leaning over the bar giving a peck on the lips to you.

He couldn't look. He wouldn't look. Yet the gentle rumble in your voice was something that always had a hold on him. " Why not both? " You teased catching onto your lover's lip in your teeth before letting go with a smirk. " You know what I like cariño. " [ darling/dear ] Cariño. Cariño Cariño Cariño Cariño...Even after years away from each other the word still made him his heart burn. Just the way your accent just drove him mad was something that he couldn't even begin to explain. Yet he knew it wasn't his place to feel that way nor right. You two were seperated now. But he wished that things had gone very differently.

" Miguel......Surprised to see you here. " You said your tone neutral but he could feel the hiss of anger in your eyes. You two broke up on a rather...messy note. Things were just too much and miguel wasn't excatly helping with being fuckin spider man and shit. You didn't- No. You couldn't do it. You weren't gonna live in fear that somebody may one day hurt you because they may have followed him home or some shit. So you suggested he retire from doing the whole superhero thing. And he didn't at all take it well. The two of you argued about it for days which turned into weeks. Things were said and one thing led to the other and soon you two weren't even remotely related anymore. He choose people he didn't even know over you. And it stung like hell. But you moved on and forward. And to see him in such a low state....it....it messed with you abit. It brought back some things that you really wished you had buried lower..

" Y/N. It's nice to see you again. " He said with a small smile. You had always been rather...eye pleasing to put it appropriately. Everything just fit so perfectly on you. Every feature on your face to every hair on you head was completely and utterly put together so...Intoxicatingly. And your voice....fuck your voice.... " Ah Im guessin you guys have past? " The voice of your lover pulled him away before his thoughts had a chance to tip off. " Yeah. He's an old friend. " You said simply without bothering to look at the other man. You already you tired from work and really didnt want want to deal with your partner gettin all pissy that your ex is here. " Just a shot of jack daniels Mí Corazón. " you purred. [ My heart ] You knew what your voice did to Miguel. You know what you could gain from him just with a few soft I love yous or just simply saying his name the way he liked. He was a slut for words. Literally. And you had no sympthay for him left in you to care. After all it seemed more like a personal problem then anything. Sucks to suck.

You sat down next to Miguel resting you arms on the bar slightly leaning just enough for that slight arch in your back to show. It was wrong you knew that. Quietly seducing your ex while your partner was right in front of you. But after all you had to return the favor. Finding those texts from all those different guys. You wondered how many times he had fucked some guy while on shift. More importantly how many of them were here now. Miguel was weak when it came to you. He always had been. And the way he shifted in his seat when ever you spoke or the way he seemed so dazzedly focused on your features only proved that he still was a little whore for you. But you weren't gonna simply just give him what he wanted. No. That be too merciful. He needed to beg. Like bitch in heat. He needed to beg like fucking him was a need. Like he couldn't survive without you stuffing him full of what he knew craved.

Miguel cleared his throat and diverted his eyes to his drink as the bartender brough back his drink. " I didn't know you were into liquor. " You said with abit of a curious tone. When did he start drinking?? He always had hated the smell of alcohol at least you thought he did. He used to get onto you about drinking all the time goin on and on about how it could mess up your liver and such. Yet here he was puttin his feelings into a cup. Crazy how things change. " And I thought you didn't fall under stress. " He muttered taking drinking it down in a quick motion. He gagged slightly before swallowing a rather displeasing look on his face. " What? The bite too much for you amor? " [ Love ] You snarked a teasing smile on your face. " No. It's just stronger then what I'm used to. " He mumbled clearly embarrassed by his own reaction. The wound between you too was still fairly fresh. Even more unattended then you both thought. The dismissed jab from Miguel only just proved it.

You swished your drink around not even really wantin it in all honesty. It just felt all surreal and awkward having him around. It just didn't feel natural anymore. And you hated it so fuckin much. Your thoughts were brought out by your rather oblivious boyfriend giving you a kiss on the forehead. " Hey sorry to interrupt you in your space but I gotta head out for a bit. A friend from work needs help movin some furniture. " He said with a smile. " Don't worry about the bar ken is already gettin ready for his shift. " He continued giving you a finally peck before leaving. So that's how he did it. He made a lame ass excuse and left before he could be asked questions. Huh. It was the only thought that came into your mind. At this point feelin guilty was out of the picture entirely. After all if he could go have fun why couldn't you.

You leaned up slightly your left hand grazing the other's thigh as he stiffened. He looked at you confusedly and you simply looked at him for permission. You had always been abit of a fan for open things. It obviously took him a minute to realize what you wanted to do and the clear surprise look on his face almost made you laugh. Yet odd enough he moved his seat abit closer to you despite it. " Hm. Seems like somebody missed old times. " You hummed to yourself teasing his cock through his jeans. He shifted in his seat as he rested his hand on his forehead trying his hardest not to thrust up for attention. You slowly but carefully unzipped his jeans and the entire time the poor man was figiting in his seat. " Desperate much? " You murmed loosely as you teased the head of his swollen cock.

He huffed sharply as he shifted his weight toward your as you wrapped your pretty hands around his cock and pumped it at a rather fast pace. A small whimper came from his throat as you stroked him precum dripping as your pace became relentless. He put his head down on the bar ledge his one hand covering his mouth trying so hard to quiet his soft rambles of pleasure. He twitched and pulsed as what seemed like hours to him as his responses simply got harder and harder to hide. At this point he was pratically mind numb with pleasure and being a whiny mess of a man. Yet you weren't done with your pretty boy just yet. Things were simply getting started.

[yubnubforhire]

I’ve seen a lot of people decry criticism of the rwrb movie as simply either homophobic or anti-cringe, with the statement ‘let queer people have our cringe rom-coms’ a common defense. This idea is flawed for many reasons, not least of which being that this movie is like… barely queer. Sure it’s about a queer couple, but that’s about where it stops.

First off there’s the blatant bi erasure, with no discussion of Nora’s sexuality, no June/Nora/Pez, the word bisexual only being used once or twice in the whole movie, etc. Second off is the complete lack of queer education or community: where is Alex learning about the gay lib movement and feeling like he understands something new, deep within himself? Where is Henry talking about his role amongst the erased queer figures of the past? Where are the crowds supporting both of them, in the US and the UK? (the scene at buckingham where you don’t even see the crowd felt so cheap) Where was Amy’s role as queer elder and protector? Where was Luna, and Alex’s realization as to why he looked up to him so much and why his betrayal hurt so bad? Where was Alex realizing he and Liam had actually ‘had a thing’ when they were younger, and reconnecting with him as someone who can fully be himself? Where was all the support when they got outed? Where the fuck was Catherine? Where were Bea and Catherine fighting for them during the confrontation at buckingham? Movie!firstprince feel so isolated and without community, which is just SO not the world CMQ created in the book.

More broadly, the movie just felt so shallow. I completely understand the need for adaptation and translation to a new medium, but so many of the things they changed either lower the stakes or remove them entirely. Bea is a non-character, with no depth or backstory. Nora only exists to tell Alex to fuck Henry. Pez gets all of one line in the entire movie. June does not exist, which should completely change things because Alex does not act like the only/eldest child of the POTUS. We never really see the emails and a lot of them are adapted to onscreen dialogue, so what exactly was leaked? Why are they called the Waterloo letters? No one watching the movie alone will know. Who leaked them? I figure the movie implies it was Miguel, but then why have Richards be a character at all? CMQ was making a point with the Richards/Luna story, and the movie having a new side character as the “villain” is just… so disappointing. We don’t see any of the scenes of Henry acknowledging how fucked up the monarchy is (other than a few throwaway jokes), the comparison to the Empire, any of the Bea storyline, or him trying to avoid military service and renounce his royal inheritance, so the one line towards the end when movie!Henry has an outburst about the monarchy being antiquated is just completely unearned and comes out of nowhere.

They kept the line where Oscar tells Alex that ‘sometimes you just have to jump and hope it’s not a cliff’ but it’s now completely devoid of the context— that line is about Oscar telling Alex he doesn’t regret getting together with Ellen, no matter how it ended. It doesn’t work the same if Oscar and Ellen are still happily married! (Justice for Leo also tbh)

In the confrontation at Buckingham, the king (don’t get me started on the things they changed to avoid comparisons to queen liz) still suggests to Henry that they should claim the leaks are deepfakes and deny it, but Alex already gave the live televised speech in the movie timeline! It’s out already! The entire scene with the king honestly just does not work if Alex has already made the speech. Also side note, there’s absolutely no way in turbohell that Alex would make that speech without talking to Henry first.

There’s so much more I could talk about, from more script shenanigans to the Pip of it all, but this is honestly already way too long. All I want to say now is that it’s obviously everyone’s prerogative to like a movie or not, and nothing anyone else says should change the way you personally feel about a piece of art. That does not mean, however, that any criticism of said art is incorrect or unwarranted. You can like something and still acknowledge its flaws. And no, cringiness is not this movie’s main flaw.

[octuscle]

As an American I wonder if it's really so hard to live in Mexico. I mean they've really nice beaches, nice food, and so on. Does chronivac offer a culture exchange? I'd like to live for a while as a mexican seeing what life looks like through latin eyes

For the cultural exchange, I ask you to join our experience center at the Waldorf Astoria Los Cabos Pedregal.

A nice hotel, you think. But you wanted to get to know the real Mexico. Not the luxury resorts where hardly any Mexicans stay. On the other hand, of course, there will also be rich Mexicans… It doesn't matter, just enjoy it. The lady at the reception configures the Chronivac, hands you your room key and wishes you a nice stay. Except "Gracias" you don't know much Spanish. So you say "Gracias" and take the elevator to your room.

Wonderful suite! But the program is not cheap. You mix yourself a Negroni at the bar in the living room and admire the sunset. And while you are still thinking about where to have dinner, you get incredibly tired. And you fall asleep on the sofa with the Negroni in your hand.

The alarm clock pulls you out of sleep at 04:00. Despite the squeaking fan on the ceiling, the air in your room is incredibly stuffy. Hardly any fresh air comes through the small hatch. And four of you share the room. Miguel, Antonio and Jose work in the kitchen, they can still sleep. But as a gardener, you have to make sure that the lawns and pool terraces are immaculate when the first gringos take a dip in the pool in four hours. And even if you cleaned everything up before you went to bed dead tired at 10:00 p.m. last night, you know exactly what it looks like upstairs now. The traces of the night's parties will be omnipresent. So you grab work gloves and a garbage bag and start putting away glasses, bottles, condoms and other trash. Silently, if possible. Afterwards, you'll mop up vomit, collect leftover panties, wigs, and other things that you seriously wonder how you could lose.

It's 6:00 a.m. and the sun is rising as the couches are lined up again on a clean floor. The first guests are on their way. Sunrise yoga on the beach, jogging. And a few poor devils who came without a private jet on the scheduled flight are already making their way to the airport. You arm yourself with a rake and take care of the sand on the beach. Today was more mess than usual, you are almost an hour behind schedule. A little later than planned, however, the beach is also prepared for the first guests at 08:30. And you can take a break. There is a small grove behind the pool, where you can be mostly undisturbed. You light a cigarette. And as usual it does not take long until you hear the cracking of branches A gringo comes the way to you. You know him. You are lucky with him. He is usually showered, knows your price and does not haggle. Even if you could speak better English, you wouldn't exchange big words. You get down on your knees and free the morning wood of your first customer from the bathing shorts.

Your clients love you not only for your talented lips, your agile tongue and your discretion. Hardly any other hustler in the hotel is so happy about a load of cum in the face like you. But you know that every client brings you a little closer to freedom and a life in the USA.

[auiciqa]

Marriage Counseling With Miguel O'Hara 😵‍💫

Pairing-Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings-not many just soft angst(kinda soft angst 😰) and cheesy

*a/n-this is my first drabble so keep in mind that this is my very first one and pls tell me if I made any mistakes😔💔

Miguel was a...very confusing man.you couldn't help but grow suspicion on the fact that he came home from work really late.I mean could you really blame the man? He's one of the lead geneticists in Alchemax which can honestly can be very stressful considering that he's also Spider-Man.

It wasn't till he got home from work really late with his hair all over the place,his blouse being smothered in wine red lipstick and the smell of cheap perfume from TJ-Maxx or Ross or something.Your mind knew exactly why he came home as such late hours.You weren't surprised at all,when you payed your credit card bills you could see purchases made at Tiffany's and co,Pandora,Sephora,Dior, Cartier,etc.. When the most he had gotten you was a full charm bracelet from James Avery?

You didn't have the words to confess to him so you just kept it to yourself.It even scared you that your own 5 year old daughter understood why you and her father were so distant.

The day you confessed to him he was mad.. like really mad. Mad to the point where could just slap you across the face right then and there. "Hija de ty puta Madre I knew I should've told you this sooner or later!"."Well you didn't,instead you went and fucked your sorrows into a 20 year olds pussy!". You felt your throat tighten like there was a piece of barbed wire wrapped around it,hell even your words came out almost broken."Well at least it was better than yours!"."Miguel.. don't you remember you said that you would love me forever? You aren't the man I feel in love with 10 years ago."."Well maybe I broke that promise alright why can't you just shut the fuck up already!".You cried into your pillow that night while Miguel left, probably to go to the other woman but you couldn't stop thinking about the promise he made to you,he said he'll love you forever,right? Right.....?

As soon as Miguel came home from work you had told him that marriage Counseling was going to be the best option the fix your marriage."Why can't we just get a divorce you stupid bitch it won't even work out!" He yelled but you just kept a straight face."Well I just don't want Gabby to grow up switching houses every week,the girl isn't even 12 and she already understands why we've been so distant it even scares me on how much she understands what we have..!". You both loved Gabby very much but Miguel couldn't help but think about his own daughter,how could have he forgotten about how his own daughter would feel if her parents separated her opinion matters too."Only for Gabby's sake.".Took awhile for him to agree his face said otherwise,he looked like he was defeated meanwhile you were scheduling an appointment with the counselor.

"Good morning Mr and Mrs O'Hara what seems to be the issue here?". It was that question that both of you guys wanted to avoid answering,yet again you felt that same feeling of ur throat feeling tight."Um..well this son of a bitch just cheated on me yet he promised he will love me forever and I just think that promises should last forever don't you think Mr.Anderton? Miguel couldn't help but roll his eyes at what you just said but felt a sense of relief because he wasn't the one to answer that question."Well that seems to be the case for most couples,but let's just start off on things that we can change and things we can't, starting off strong Mr O'Hara what is something you would like for your wife to change?"There was a long pregnant pause, because Miguel was distant from you he didn't notice anything that bothered him or that could change so he just had to make something up."Uh..she's always complaining on how I get home late.?"Did this bitch really just lie? Y'all are here to repair your relationship for the sake of y'all's daughter and he just sits there and lies?"Not true!" You yelled, Miguel couldn't help but argue back and so did you,this went on for about 30 seconds till Mr anderton stopped you guys."Ok that question might be something you both don't want to answer, I fear that y'all are here to repair you're marriage not fight." you turned to look at Miguel as he does the same and y'all both look back at the counselor."Let's just go with something easier,Um Mrs O'Hara have you ever thanked your husband for having a roof over your heads and to have food on the table every day?" Miguel could feel himself smirk and so did you feel it you were just left speechless,"Uh.. no.." "Ok now Mr O'Hara have you also thanked your wife for cooking,cleaning, washing laundry and for taking care of your child." Right back at you bitch, you couldn't help but giggle a bit as Miguel frowns at the question."no."

The session went on for another hour or two untill "I can't help but say that you both need some serious help.."You and Miguel both looked at each other knowing that this won't work out.

Okkk guyssss hope y'all liked this I think I could do some improvements but overall I think this came out good!

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 3 - Weak and Alone

The hairs on your body stood up for a good while before you could relax again. You didn’t know meeting the yellow bat would be this fucking terrifying. Like, c’mon man! You fought many weird, crazy, dangerous, and scary things in your life as a hero, why was coming into contact with one of this world’s heroes that terrifying?

And besides this guy was just- is just a human, not a mutated creature or even an alien, just a regular human like you. But something about him just- put you off.

Crime in the mornings are so rare, how bad was your luck for it to happen when you were there? Wrong place and time, maybe? Or your luck is just shit and that’s that.

You don’t even question how this guy found you-er the robber. Even if he was in the area, Oracle or the other Robin must have been on surveillance duty or something. If you recall only two of Batman’s wards are mostly the “man in the chair” type. Oracle because of what happened to her with the Joker and one of the Robins because he’s one of the smartest ones. Or something like that.

Regardless, you’re okay now. That’s all that matters.

Hands in your pocket you remembered you looted the guy earlier. Taking out  some cash you realized this guy had money. He had three-hundred, so why try to rob a convenience store? Well, whatever, not your problem.

You’ve become really good at pushing your problems to the back of your head.

What is now your problem is finding a library. Lifting your mask back on your face you continue to march forward, regardless of direction. Picking a random bar from your snack bag, you begin to eat it under your mask to calm your stomach so you can think.

“Okay, cheap food and non perishables are what I will live off of.” You don’t plan to stay in this wack world for long, so saving money is key. “Next, find layouts, maps, anything to get a semblance of where I am and what I can do. I need information, and lots of it. Third, I need a generator to power my gizmo. Finally, supplies to build a GHM. ‘Go-Home’ machine.”

So far things are looking very bleak but that's okay. No worries. Um, on the bright side, you haven’t glitched at all, so your gizmo watch isn’t totally off the record. As long as it’s still connected and alive, you’re sure Miguel can find your signal.

You did just suddenly disappear during a fight that was basically your mission that Miguel sent you on. That means Miguel already knows of your unfortunate case and should most likely be looking for you, right? 

He wouldn’t abandon you, right? He’s the one that recruited you after all! He came to you. He knows of your existence and predicament. You have somewhat of a mentor and student relationship for fucks sake! He wouldn’t leave you stranded in favor of his issues with Miles…right?

You’re not getting forgotten… right?

You matter…right?

No! You can’t think like this! You also can’t put all your spiders in one web. You need more options, alternatives. Whether Miguel is looking for you or not (you choose to believe he is), you need to find a way to either go home or get in touch with him.

You gotta do things your own way.

You’re smart, resourceful, use your brain! 

You’re good at improving, inventing, and repairing- a tinker if you will. Taking things apart, fixing what’s broken, or building things. That’s one of your strong suits- it’s time to use that big beautiful brain of yours to find out what’s wrong with this watch.

So in order to do that, you need materials. So how would a broke but smart pretty woman such as yourself find materials that won’t catch the eyes of the batsonas? Simple. One man’s garbage is another man’s treasure.

That’s right baby!

A junkyard. 

Now to find a junkyard, you need a map. So to a library you go!

With newfound determination and energy, forgoing any unsavory thoughts and focusing on buildings and landmarks.

Getting pretty far into the city you managed to find a public library and mentally fell to your knees begging to all the gods to not run into any and all of the bat family here.

So you pass through the automatic doors and immediately feel relaxed. Honestly being in this world makes it hard for you to even feel safe when everything and everyone could be a potential danger to you.

Not to mention how quickly and easily some of the criminals can escape. You reeeeeally don’t want to face the villains of this world. You’d rather your own Vulture than their Scarecrow or whatever. 

Giving the librarian an award winning (and non suspicious) smile, you made your way over to the row of computers. Sitting further away from the camera, you sit down and stare at the dull desktop.

“Okay, good, I’m here, no bats in sight, now what?” Feeling slightly overwhelmed you took a deep breath and then checked the date and location. 

Reading the latest news was beneficial, now you know just who is in Arkham and who’s free at the moment. Thank the gods that the Joker is locked away. You really aren’t ready to face the big bad baddies of this world. 

Soaking in as much information as possible, for hours you learned the latest news, Batman sent the some criminals to Arkham, Bruce Wayne hosting a charity event in a couple of months, Dick Grayson is coming to Gotham (why?), Lex Luther’s recent scandal, Superman saves the earth (again), Damian Wayne’s anticipated art museum opening. Wow, nothing interesting. 

Nearing four hours just sitting there, you decide to call it quits and pull up maps one last time. Double checking your information you make sure that everything was like you never touched it and thensome. 

Waving good-bye to the librarian you headed off to the large junkyard you found. The walk was pleasant and free of crime. Fuck you daylight robber. Though you know it isn’t true, crime happens everywhere and anytime, just some are quieter than others. 

Arriving at the junkyard, you realized just how ginormous it is. Walking around you spot an abandoned warehouse, where equipment usually is stored and you jump with glee. Knowing there are no working cameras around here, you rest easy knowing you can just go ham on tinkering to your heart's desire.

Setting your bags down, you look around. There are tools that were left behind and you were ready to kneel and thank the gods. Looking at the equipment and workbench, you’re thoroughly pleased with what you have to work with. Shedding your hoodie, you step outside and into your paradise.

Finding many useful and discarded materials you quickly get to work in picking apart metals and material. Dragging them inside the spacious warehouse you go back and forth picking and dragging materials.

And the day flew by, just like that. It’s already late afternoon and you looked over your work.

You’ve made great progress with gathering materials. Having a mountain inside the warehouse to work with and on the workbench there was already something in the making. You’re building what is essentially a charger and beacon for your web watch. 

This will give out a signal for Miguel to latch onto and discover your location. The only issue is if Miguel is looking for you, this will help greatly. The other issue is, you need energy, and lots of it. Sunlight here would suck with how gloomy Gotham can be.

So direct sunlight can’t be its only source. 

Regardless you’ll fix and create the panels anyways. For now, since it’s late, you’ll take a break and fix this place up. 

Sike, you just make a web hammock on the ceiling and web your bags to the wall next to you. After discovering the owner of the motel tried to get inside your room (that you fucking paid for) while you managed to finally catch some Zzz’s, it was decided to just leave.

Though you still need food and a place to do your necessities. Maybe you just have to suck it up and go through the centers here.

Sighing in the silence, your mind began to spiral.

The warmth and comfort of uncle Ben as he took care of you when you had nightmares, the gentle embrace of aunt May when you had succumbed to fevers, and the loving presence of Peter Parker when you were at the brink of it all.

You miss them, god you fucking miss them! You hadn’t felt those things in years, not after closing yourself from everyone when you lost them. Sure you had the mentor and student relationship with Miguel, but you never let yourself get close.

Not with Miles and the others, because you felt like a protector, a role model, someone who can’t show weakness.

Not with the hundreds of other Peter Parker’s either. Those Peter’s are just as smart, charming, dorky, and special as your Peter Parker. But they aren’t your Peter Parker. And they never will. Your Peter was even more special, more smart, more charming, more dorky, more charismatic, more everything! He was everything! And then… he left.

No, he didn’t leave.

You just couldn’t save him. You must not have been enough for him. You had seen the signs! You could have done something! But you didn’t. You got complacent, cowardly. Afraid to lose what you have. 

Uncle Ben’s death taught you to treasure what you have before it’s taken away. Aunt May’s death taught you to keep things as they are, so they don’t break. You vowed to never make those mistakes again.

So when you met Peter Parker, you made sure he knew just how much he meant to you. How special he was, and how important he is to you. You weren’t blind, you noticed the painted smiles he wore at times. How life seemed to be dragging him down. But you were too afraid, too complacent. You didn’t want to tip the scales and possibly break something too fragile. You never pushed, or prodded because you knew if someone did that to you, you’d leave.

But the most important thing was that Peter isn’t you. Peter was strong, faaaar stronger than you, he isn’t glass. He held on for soooo long, and still tried to hide his pain from you. But you knew. You also knew that Peter knew that you knew. You just never pushed.

Peter Parker’s death demonstrated just how powerless you are. How much of a coward and paranoid you became. If you just talked to him, maybe he would still be alive. 

With you…

Maybe, you would have accepted his confession once you mustered up the courage to take a leap and accept his feelings for you.

Just maybe.

But, there is no maybe anymore. There will never be Peter Parker and You. Because there hasn’t been another you so far. 

And you live with that guilt and hatred towards yourself. But if Peter’s death taught you anything else, it’s to keep moving.

You have to keep going, for Peter’s sake. And for your sanity.

Because the more time you spend in this universe and not in your own, where you can visit Ben, May, and Peter’s graves, you are slipping ever so slightly.

You’re losing your fucking mind.

You just want to go home.

-

“Nothing Bruce. It’s only been a day but so far nothing.” Catwoman’s sharp voice cut through the silence.

Batman doesn’t reply in acknowledgement but nods and leaves the rooftop, leaving Catwoman peeved.

“I told you I’d keep looking, maybe it was nothing. You’re just too paranoid.” She huffed before going her separate way.

Batman felt his eyebrow twitch. First, this disturbance that apparently leads to nothing (that’s not true, he can feel it.) Then it’s news about a freak who caught two crooks beating a civilian. At first he didn’t pay it any mind until they kept spouting about a person in a suit shooting a sticky substance.

Gordon couldn’t get a sample because of how sticky the substance was and only for it to dissolve thirty minutes later. Jim Gordon also couldn’t add anything to this person’s claim because it was night and dark and he could only see the silhouette of the person.

But then again, that’s just two things that were off. A coincidence sure, but he doesn’t really believe in coincidences. Not in Gotham.

Placing his hand on his earpiece he spoke, “Anything?”

“Nothing to note. Maybe she’s right. What if this shift was just a coincidence?” Oracle replied.

“Not likely,” He heard her huff, and he sighed. “But not impossible either.”

Oracle would take that over a paranoid Batman any day. It’s the closest thing to an agreement then she will ever get. “I’ve been scanning the whole day but so far, nothing. Not even something similar.” She mumbled to herself.

Just as she takes a small break and sips on water, she hears footsteps approaching.

“How can I help you, Duke?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you if you're busy. Looks like you could use a break.” He replied.

“Honestly, yes. With the whole issue near the East End, I need it.” Barbara swirled her chair around to face Duke.

Duke rubbed his neck in apprehension. “Did you-”

“Find anything?” Oracle finishes for him. He nods. “No. Scanned her face and everything but nothing came up. Then I checked beyond, outside of Gotham. Truly nothing. She’s a ghost.”

“Or, maybe a survivor?” Duke proposed.

“Possibly. Many trafficked survivors and escapees have made it to Gotham.” Barbara entertained the idea.

“Do you know where,” after a hesitant pause he let his hand fall to his side, a slight glint in his eyes that went unnoticed. “She is staying?”

“She was staying at a motel near Park Row. She hasn’t returned since.” This was cause for alarm for Duke but he kept it in.

“Where-” He tried.

“Relax Duke. You know most would call this- what’s the word, ah, stalking.” Barbara teased, causing Duke to flush slightly.

“You’re right. I just…” He straightened up before he chuckled at his memory of you. “I never got her name.”

“That’s cause she never threw it. Not even the guy from the store got it.”

“Alright, thanks though.” Duke nodded and headed out.

Barbara bid him well and returned to the screen. Wondering how you, a random civilian, caught Duke’s attention. But then again, after scanning your face on the screen she too couldn’t help but find herself unable to look away. 

And yes, you could say that you’re pretty, she can see that, but there is just something about you that makes you different and she can’t figure out why. Just what about you has her curious. But then again you are a civilian and she won’t mix personal interest with work. 

Despite parading that Bruce was being paranoid about the disturbance in the air. It was strong enough to send an alert to her, and it could be something dangerous. But it happened so fast that you could blind and you would miss it.

For now, the thought of the pretty civilian will be put on the back burner, but not forgotten. She’ll get to you when she solves this stupid case in front of her. That and the mysterious spider person that three people (not including her dad) apparently saw.

“Coincidence? Probably not.” typing the keyboard she clicks enter and watches the monitor scan Gotham for the same frequency as the disturbance to see if she can put up anything, even a trace.

Nothing.

Clicking enter, she watches the screen again.

Prev; Next;

I realized have like ZERO outline for a fleshed out story sucks balls. Well, let's see where this goes together. I ordered some Signal/Duke comics and I am excited to see them arrive. Anyways, which new bat person do you think you'll meet next? There is only one right answer and it isn't Duke.

You're name isn't Tinker, but it's probably what I'll use as your alias.

[nanasdumbworld]

Head Over Heels (pt.1)

₊°✧︡˗ˏˋ❤ˎˊ˗ Miguel O'Hara x Spider! fem!Reader

Summary ; Miguel and (Y/N) realize that they are head over heels for each other.

Warnings ; Mention of child loss, panic attack. Hurt/Confort. Jealousy!Miguel. Non-consent kiss.

It was a Friday of paperwork. (Y/N) Drew was doing yesterday's mission report, which had not gone quite well since the anomaly, a variant of the green goblin, had been able to escape. Miguel wasn't entirely happy with the result, but let it go. (Y/N) thought he was going to scold her as usual, but that didn't happen. He simply told her that the problem was easy to fix and told to prepare herself so she could catch him on the next mission.

She and Miguel had years of friendship, along with Jess and Peter. She was one of the first recruits and she was one of the strongest. (Y/N)'s past wasn't unknown to anyone, she was from earth 1610-B. A reality where she was a female clone of Peter Parker, created by Doc Ock and the Ben Reily of that dimension.

Since he met her for the first time, Miguel knew that she was a person to trust, which is why their bond was so strong. You could say they were "best friends". Although, for (Y/N), Miguel wasn't just a simple friend, the small details and gestures of him made her fall in love with him. One of the key moments of their friendship, was that time (Y/N) found Miguel having a panic attack in his office.

On a mission, he failed to save a variant of his little daughter from the lizard's clutches. The image of his daughter's body was repeated over and over again in his head.

"I couldn't save her, I couldn't protect my baby" He yelled, throwing one of the monitors. (Y/N) cautiously approached when he calmed down and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. "Can I sit next to you?" She asked with a sweet tone of voice, to which he denied, shaking his head, without turning to look at her. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" She asked again. Miguel didn't answer. "Do you want me to retire?" Miguel denied.

"Stay." It was the only thing he could say in a small voice.

For a long time, she was standing a few meters from him, until he let her get closer. (Y/N) knelt in front of him.

"Would you like to talk about what-" She was interrupted by a hug, which she responded by hugging him back. Miguel buried his face in her neck, letting out many more tears. Gently, she stroked his hair. (Y/N) realized that his breathing was back to normal. Miguel raised his face and looked into her eyes as she wiped away his tears. A weak 'thank you' came out of his mouth.

That had happened a few months ago. Thanks to that their friendship became even stronger, they had helped each other hundreds of times. He healed her wounds, she listened to him when he opened up about his private life. Sometimes they would go out to eat in their free time or stay up late to review the reports of the other spider people, which Miguel loved. He also comforted her when she didn't feel good about herself, since thanks to her origin, she questioned who she really was, a simple clone or "cheap copy of Spiderman" as J.J. Jameson called her. It was inevitable that she didn't fall in love with him, she knew the real Miguel. Deep inside that shell, Miguel was a huge nerd with a heart of gold who was passionate about genetics.

"(Y/N)? Are you picking up?" Miguel got her attention by snapping his fingers near her face.

"Yeah, yeah" She shook her head, clearing her mind. She turned her head to the left, looking at him. "What were you saying?"

Miguel rolled his eyes, grumbling. "I was saying what you can do to capture the anomaly. Take this antidote to sedate him. This will bring Norman Osborn back to himself." He handed her a small vial with a green liquid. "You have to inject it into his neck as quickly as possible, understand?"

"Yes, Sir"

Many hours later, she finished writing the report. She got up from her seat and stretched. "I'm going to sleep now, try to do it too" (Y/N) said putting her hands on her waist.

"No te prometo nada, I still have reports to review" (I can't promise you nothing) he replied without turning around. He was reading Hobie's report. "This is the most incompetent, worthless report I've ever read in my life" he passed his hand over his face as a sign of despair.

"Do you want me to help you?" (Y/N) clasped her hands behind her back and cocked her head.

"No, you go rest. You need to be fine for tomorrow's mission." she sighed. The truth was that he was sleepy, but Miguel was never going to finish reading the hundreds of reports that he still had left. "Ni lo pienses" (Don't you think about it)

"But-"

"No."

He moved closer to her and raised an eyebrow. "Tomorrow you have a very important mission, you need to rest" (Y/N) got even closer. "What are you going to do to me if I don't and I stay?" They could feel each other's breaths on their faces.

Miguel looked down, remaining lost in the brunette's lips. Obviously, (Y/N) noticed and did the same. They were inches from kissing, when Lyla's voice fortunately (unfortunately) abruptly separated them.

"Am I interrupting something?" She said laughing, to which they both flatly denied.

"Claro que no. Para nada" (No, of course not) Miguel mentioned completely flushed.

"Nah" (Y/N) looked up at the ceiling, while whistling. What were they about to do? Were they going to kiss?

"Whatever you say" Lyla shrugged her shoulders in confusion. A screen appeared in front of them. In the image, they could see the green goblin in what appeared to be a gala. "Norman Osborn on earth 1610-B, he is in a charity dinner for the orphanage of the city" Lyla continued saying. "I fear that his intentions are not good, I detected that he bring three bombs with him"

(Y/N) turned to look at Miguel with a smile. "The night will be long, my dear friend"

-

They were already at the evening. Not being able to enter with their respective Spidey costumes, they opted to dress up. (Y/N) wore a wine-colored dress and Miguel in a suit. They both thought they looked amazing, but they weren't able to tell each other.

They were dancing to go unnoticed. At that moment, the song "Fooled Around and Fell In Love" by Elvin Bishop was playing. They danced slowly, with an awkward distance. They looked everywhere with the excuse of finding Norman, but it was also because they couldn't look at each other's faces without blushing.

Despite their best efforts, they couldn't help it. Both were lost in each other's gaze. Longing to give each other even a kiss. The uncomfortable distance was shortening, they felt their breath getting closer.

"Can I kiss you?" They said at the same time. They were about to finally give each other the much-needed kiss, but a raspy voice interrupted them, causing them to turn around. it was none other than Norman Osborn himself. "Excuse me, gentleman. Could you steal the lady for a moment? I'd like to have a dance with her. Sure, if she wants it that way."

They both looked at each other and nodded. "Sure, no problem" Miguel replied with a small smile and left, sitting at one of the tables that were nearby.

Now the song that was playing was "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" by Morten Harket. "What a mainstream song" Miguel thought as he watched (Y/N) dance with him. (Y/N)'s plan was to have him close enough to inject him with the serum. So they were extremely close. Which made Miguel's blood boil. How he grabbed her by the waist, how he whispered things in her ear that he didn't want to imagine. (Y/N) just smiled awkwardly, reaching for the vial that was in her pocket.

Norman thought that she wanted to kiss him, seeing that he was getting closer little by little to his face, so he didn't miss an opportunity. "How quickly you fall in love, doll" He said and without further ado he kissed her. Miguel froze. (Y/N) Seeing that Norman was distracted, he injected the serum into his neck.

A Miguel se lo estaba llevando la chingada.(Miguel was really pissed) Seeing (Y/N) kissing with that anomaly made his head ache. Since when was he this jealous? All he wanted to do was just push him away from her, but he couldn't. The serum had to take effect.

The headache grew stronger when she saw him going to the bathroom, between kisses. He followed them and entered the women's bathroom. He walked checking the cubicles, until a blow stopped him dead. He went to where the blow came from and saw that it was (Y/N) with a completely unconscious Norman. "How was the drool exchange?" he asked the brunette, earning himself an elbow in the stomach. "You would have done it, idiot."

Already in the HQ, they locked Norman in a cell.

"What a night" Miguel exclaimed, taking off his tie.

"Don't even tell me" (Y/N) grumbled as she took off her hairstyle. "I'm going to rest, see you tomorrow" She turned around and opened a portal to her house.

"(Y/N)" Miguel caught her attention making her turn back to him. Come on, Miguel. Tell her. Tell her you love her.

"Have a nice night." It was all he said. He felt disappointed in himself.

And she felt that way too. She didn't just want to say a simple "I'm going to rest, see you tomorrow" she wanted to fill him with kisses and hug him as much as she couldn't.

But neither of them had the courage to say it and do it.

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels: Chapter 2

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explict

Word Count: 3490

Summary: You both try to to talk things over and goes about as well as expected.

Warnings:  Smut, Oral (Male receiving), Tension, Miguel working out in sweats (That deserves a warning, shut up)

AO3

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Series Masterlist

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Chapter 2

Training Session

“You release, like, pheromones, right?”

Jess chokes on her coffee at the question.“Jesus, warn a girl!” she coughs into her elbow.

“Sorry.” you hand her a few napkins as a pitiful peace offering. You both had two missions scheduled for today and decided to meet up in the lunchroom for a quick coffee and catch up.

You feel a little bad for bringing it up so abruptly, but to be honest you weren’t sure how else you could have possibly said it. Probably a million other ways.

She’d once mentioned this particular odd little power some time when you first joined. It was just some joke in passing but in light of new developments in your own powers, you were suddenly interested.

“I call it a Spider-Aura.” she clarifies with a laugh/ cough, “Please call it a Spider-Aura.”

“Okay, sorry. Spider-Aura. What’s it do?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?”

It’d been two weeks since your last… interaction with Miguel. You hadn’t even been to the citadel since then. You're not sure if you were dreading coming back or praying for it. You’d been mulling over your feelings about it the entire time. O’Hara occupied an unreasonable portion of your daily thoughts at this point. You just wanted answers, and he was the only person to get them from.

But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t try get answers elsewhere. Jess was the best you had.

“I can’t be curious about my co-workers?” you answer Jess. It’s not entirely a lie.

“Pfft, curious. Sure.” She chuckles, taking a small sip of her latte, “It’s not something I use much. Only comes in handy every once in a while with interrogations and such.”

“Oh, interrogations,” You lean forward with a smile to lighten the mood, “Sounds intimate.”

“Shut up,” She playfully kicks you under the table, “It can relax people. Makes them… trust me more. People are more willing to talk when they think you're a friend. When they think they’ll get something from you out of it. It works on everyone. Human and super-human alike.”

You're intrigued, “Can you turn it on and off?”

“No. It’s always masked over. A formula of my own design.”

“I always wondered why you smelled like fresh lilac with a hint of chem-lab.”

“Spider-Woman, now available from Burberry,” Jess joked back, “What’s this really about?”

“New villain back home,” you quickly lied, feeling a pit of guilt drop in your stomach, “I just feel… off around him. Asking around to see if anyone else has dealt with the same.” Well, the last part wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Mmm,” she hums, taking another sip. You’re not entirely sure she buys it. “Is he hot? Are you irresistibly attracted to him? ‘Cause that’s part of it. Having pheromones, and all.”

It’s your turn to choke on your cheap coffee. It’s only fair.

“Oh my god, you are!” she points an accusing finger, “You’re falling for a villain!”

“NO!” You feel your cheeks heating, “He’s my new arch nemesis for all I know!”

“Sure, nemesis,” she clicks her tongue with a smug smile, “Your nemesis you can’t stop thinking about screwing. I’m gonna have to report you if it goes that far.”

“JESSICA!”

Like a gift from the heavens, both your watches go off. You’d never been so happy to receive a mission alert. The team is leaving in 2 minutes. You both chuck the last of your coffee and take off down the tower.

“Don’t think I’ll drop this!” Jess shouts at you, that stuck-up smile still painted on her face. You only roll your eyes in response. You’re not sure if her info helped or not, but it was at least something. Pheromones that influence the others around you. It was a possibility.

God, if she only knew.

Mostly you're just irritated with how right she was, even if she didn’t know who she was talking about— You couldn’t stop thinking about fucking Miguel O’Hara.

—

The spider tower had so many luxuries you never knew you were missing in your life. The main one everyone seemed to appreciate most were the training facilities. Not just a gym, but an entire wing specifically designed with spider training in mind.

Various surfaces for crawling, absurdly large weights, a ridiculous gymnastics area— they thought of it all.

After years of teaching yourself how to do this job under the judging gaze of New York City, you took advantage. You could always improve, and now you could do it amongst your people instead of having hundreds of pedestrians recording you for Twitter.

That was another luxury of Spider Society. Just being out of the eye of the public but still openly being a spider person. That was the real gift Miguel created. You were all here to do good and save the world, sure, but now you did it together.

Taking on the role of the spider always came with a set of unsaid rules. One of which was ‘It’s all depending on you, so you have to do it yourself.’ More of an unhealthy mindset than a rule but it was still a conclusion most of you had come to in your journey. With great power and all that jazz.

Another unsaid rule was relationships. Some spider’s seemed to live happy lives and make it work, but for the most part, you were all solo acts. You learned that one early too.

People that get close, get hurt. Everyone’s at risk so you have to keep everyone at arms length to keep them safe. That bullshit lone wolf story every hero has. It’s cliche and stupid, but it’s completely true.

You had countless losses in your life. Countless tragedy. They made you who you are. It was, unfortunately, another part of the job and something you all grappled with.

But again…not alone. Not anymore.

Your missions this morning were practically open and closed. Quick and easy villain grabs and you were back by lunch. Thankfully, Jess had some other projects to check up on, so she couldn’t drill you on your conversation this morning. With any luck, she’ll have forgotten about it by the next mission.

You decide to head into the training area before heading home, wanting to get in some strength and web training. Part of being Spider-Woman was giving a good aerial show, and your show could use some work. You loved being a performer on top of a superhero, what can you say? Just, yet another, part of the job— a slightly more fun part.

The floor of the massive facility was dedicated to equipment, obstacles, and sparing rings, and the hundreds of feet of open space above was for swinging. To an average person, the space would make absolutely no sense. Weight machines with hundreds of pounds as the minimum, random pillars and walkways shooting around at every diagonal— fucking basketball courts on walls. For all of you, it was a playground.

The swinging traffic seemed low for once, so you decide to start with that.

When you were a teenager, your older sister tried to get you into running. She was a cross-country star. The walls of her room were full of countless medals and trophies. She was beautiful, confident, popular— everything you weren’t in high school. Still, she never shamed you for it. She was your best friend, through and through. Being your best friend, she saw what your lack of confidence did to your morale. Running was her happy place, and she wanted you to join it.

You fucking hated it. A certain spider incident hadn’t changed your life forever at that point, and you weren’t remotely athletic. Even the easiest of physical tasks were taxing. Still, you tried for her. She was sharing something she loved with you— and you loved her. You wanted to make her proud.

“It's just so peaceful,” she would tell you, “I feel untouchable. Like I can do anything.”

You later learned she was describing a runner's high. She made a hobby out of constantly chasing that feeling, but you never caught up to her.

It wasn’t until years later you felt something close to what she was describing— when you were web-swinging.

It was the thing that came the easiest to you when you started. Every movement came so naturally. It was instinctual— like this is what you were always meant to do. The rushing air, the heart-pounding drops, and swoops. This was your runner's high. Your peaceful place. No one could take that away from you.

Almost no one.

Midswing, your new, most hated, sense hit you like a fucking freight train. Miguel was here. You catch yourself on the closest wall, at least 3 stories above the training floor. Your eyes quickly scan the gym. You eventually spot his broad frame walking towards the gymnastics area— dressed in fucking grey sweatpants? You notice his head darting ever so slightly from side to side as he walks.

He was looking for you too.

You quickly crawl behind a nearby pillar, hiding from his line of sight. You really didn’t wanna do this right now. Your workout was ruined. You should just cut your losses and go home while you can. There’s plenty to do in your dimension. You’ve got so much to do— you should really go do whatever the fuck it was instead.

You follow him to a corner of the gymnastics area, watching the spider people part in front of his path like a sea. They weren’t afraid of him, he wasn’t some authoritarian leader. But he was deeply respected. He was loved for what he built here— For what he was doing. Trying to hold the fabric of reality together is rather respectable, you guess.

With how proudly he carried himself, he never seemed egotistical about it all. He never asked for different treatment. You were all clearly equal here. Hell, he was casually walking into the public gym in fucking sweatpants and a teeshirt. He trained with all of you. He ate with all of you. He fought with all of you. He was no different from any other spider. At least that’s how he wanted to be seen, you think.

He decides to start with the high bar. He leaps up and starts a routine, effortlessly balancing his weight through some, obviously, very practiced movements. If your shared spider sense was distracting him, he didn’t show it. His face remained placid and focused— It freaked you out a little bit, honestly.

He ends the routine landing on a handstand you swear he holds for 10 years. Even by spider standards, he was impressive. He had to have gotten those damn shoulders from somewhere. His shirt rides up to his chest and you bite your lip at the sight.

Fucking creep- You scold yourself.

He does a few other perfectly practiced routines in a few other areas. Double rings, tight rope, yoga strength holds— all very lackadaisical things in comparison to the rest of what the spider gym had to offer. Between his sets, you notice he still glances around trying to find you.

It’s like you’re lured in. You lose track of how long you’ve been watching him. Your spider-sense has taken the wheel and you're too fascinated to look away. Like watching a bug under a microscope— A really hunky bug.

He’s about to leave the gymnastics area when he pauses. He looks up, and spots you instantly, his eyes like daggers. He gives a small smirk as if to say ‘So, there you are.’

You give him a small wave back— You're not sure if it’s incredibly stupid or incredibly cocky.

You hold each other's gaze for a beat longer before he nods his head to the side, clearly gesturing to something. You look over to see it was in the direction of the training rooms— the private training rooms. When you look back he’s already heading for one. You’re already crawling towards them before you can stop yourself.

You’d only used the training rooms a handful of times. They were just for practicing hand-to-hand combat and reaction time. Projections of various foes attack you while you fend them off the best you can. Advanced VR, really. But the rooms were dark and small— and soundproof.

He’s standing in the center, back turned, when you you walk in. You lock the door behind you.

“I don’t appreciate being spied on,” He huffs, turning to face you.

“I don’t appreciate you staring me down like a piece of meat since I got here, so consider us even,” You spit back. “And is it really spying if you knew I was there the whole time?”

“Maybe you’re just a really bad spy.” He takes a step toward you.

“I must be a halfway decent spy if I got into the most exclusive strike force club in the whole multiverse. Your bar routine could use some work,” You joke with a small laugh. His face remains sullen. Okay then. “What do you want, O’Hara?”

“I want it to stop. I want you to stop.” He grunts. “Have you tried to just…I don’t know, turn it off?”

“Oh, wow, I never thought of that before.” You say completely monotone.

Wasn’t he supposed to be a super-scientist?

“Well, I don’t know!” He retorts, “You’re doing something.”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing!” you exasperatedly wave your arms, “And apparently neither do you! I thought it was blatantly obvious I’m just as confused as you are!”

He lets out a grunt of frustration, kicking his gym bag into the nearest wall. He pauses for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“When did it start?” he finally asks.

“The first time I saw you.” You answer.

“Me too.” He starts to pace, mumbling to himself. Did he really just invite you in here to watch him think?

“Do you release pheromones?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

He halts instantly, “Qué?” his expression says it all, really.

“I just… heard it was a thing. Could be something.” You look away, cheeks reddening.

He immediately dismisses you, continuing his pacing. This entire time your spider sense has been building. It was a dull hum in the back of your head on the training floor, but now alone in the same room… it was getting hard to ignore. And you were getting anxious it might become something more— again.

Just the thought of it made your spine tingle. Whatever this was making you feel this way, he simply had to feel it too.

“Why did you do that?” you ask softly. He turns towards you, “In the hallway the other week. Why did you do that?”

His entire demeanor relaxes, dropping his shoulders and face softening. He glances away. Was he… embarrassed? Miguel O’Hara was shy. Who knew?

He hesitated for a moment, “I… I don’t know. I’m sorry. It just—”

“It told you to do it.” You finish for him.

He looks at you in a way you hadn’t seen before, “No. Kinda.” He stammers over his words. “It felt like I needed it. I needed something and I couldn’t… stop.”

You let empty air settle for a moment before taking a step towards him.

“Do you feel it right now?”

The answer is so clearly painted on his face, but you can’t help but feel he’s mirroring you. If you were truly linked somehow, you knew exactly what he was thinking. It’s been building since you entered the room.

You run your hand down his broad chest, settling your grip on his waistband. His breath hitches as you run your fingers between the hem and his taut stomach. You see his cock twitch in his pants. You slowly back him against the closest wall.

Your hand dips under his waistband, gabbing his throbbing cock at the base— your fingers don’t even touch. You drag your hand up his length. He leans his head back with a hiss at the sensation. You hold back a smile at the sight.

“My turn.” You whisper, lowering to your knees. You drag his sweats down his thighs and his cock springs free. Holy shit is all you think. He was massive. With how large of a person he was in general, you should have expected this, but— yeah, holy shit.

You run your tongue along his length, swirling it around the tip. You lap up his single bead of pre cum. His hips shutter and you take him completely.

“Dios…” He sighs breathlessly, grabbing the back of your head. You start bobbing up and down, wetting his whole cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’d had before, admittedly. Somehow that made you enjoy this even more. You always liked a challenge.

You fight back the urge to gag as you take him deeper, his tip already pressing against the back of your throat. You swallow around him and he bucks into you, pushing himself the rest of the way. Your nose tickles the curly black hair at his base.

“There you go,” He moans. You take a deep breath before you start to move again, taking him to the hilt each time, “Eso es, nena.”

Even though you don’t know what he says exactly, it’s obvious they’re words of encouragement— and maybe adoration. It only fuels you to go faster. You feel his grip tighten on the back of your head as you pick up the pace. Good.

The thing about soundproof rooms is that it’s only you there. Not the faintest hum of the outside world or whoever you're sharing the wall with. You’d give anything to have your entire apartment soundproofed. Heightened senses were a curse sometimes. It’s like the dark little room was it on separate universe… just you and him. The only sound is your lewd, wet gagging and his barely audible whimpering.

You could listen to him make those sounds for hours.

How often does he allow himself this kind of pleasure, you wonder. By his reaction so far, you’d say not often at all. Either that or you’re just better at this than you remember. Two things can be true. You’ll make sure it’s good for him.

You reach up to massage his balls, the other working his shaft. Your mouth comes off him with a pop, licking more of his pre cum as you go. You look up at him, his heaving chest nearly obscuring his face. You briefly glance to the side to see new claw marks adorning the wall. He looks down at you, his normally stern face painted over with bliss. You smile and take his length into your mouth again.

You could feel the tingling in the back of your head was subsiding again like it did when you were both in a… similar position 2 weeks ago. It wasn’t quite pleasure but maybe... satisfaction? Like an itch finally being scratched. Doing this to him was making the sense calm down. You’ll think about it later, you decide.

His other hand comes to your head, forcing you to move faster. You eagerly oblige. He mutters a string of what you can only assume are obscenities in Spanish as you move faster and faster. He’s close. He’s so fucking close.

You barely manage to get him fully in your mouth before you feel his balls tighten and ropes of cum paint the back of your throat. You gag it down with enthusiasm, dragging your tongue up to lick his tip clean. You come off him with a heavy sigh, trying to catch your breath.

He’s heaving too, coming down from his pleasurable high. You look at each other, your eyes both saying the same thing. The buzzing stopped, and it feels fucking amazing. He gently runs his hand down the side of your face.

You’d never seen him so… calm before. Those creases in his forehead smoothed out. His eyes were lidded and glossy. You could stay here a little longer.

Too bad you suddenly valued revenge more than sexual gratification at this particular moment.

Ever the one the ruin the moment, you remember how he left you last time. Blissed out your mind with a demolished suit that took 3 days to repair— it’s only fair you give him a full taste of his own medicine.

Behind your back, you press the home button on your watch and a portal opens up behind you. You barely give him enough time to be confused before you grab the waistband of his pants resting at his knees and rip them clean in half through the crotch seam.

You give a smirk and mocking salute before falling back into your portal home. A dazzling mix of confusion and rage marks his previously serine face before the portal closes off.

You don’t recall him wearing his watch to the gym.

_________________________________

Qué?- What? Dios- God Eso es, nena- That's it, Baby

I'm a dumb fuck that can barely speak English. Please, I beg you, correct me if I got any Spanish wrong.

And Jessica Drew does in fact release spider pheromones that she calls a spider aura. They make people irresistibly drawn to her, though I don't think she uses it all that much. And to be honest I'm not sure they're gonna include it with our new Jessica Drew in the movies. It's kinda... creepy. Right?

[vigilantethot]

DRIVING ME CRAZY

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x villain!reader

Summary: You’re a villain who steals and hops dimensions. Miguel is irritated. 

A/N: I had this concept in my head and I just had to write it. Maybe I'll make it a fic one day. I say reader is a villain but she's mostly good tbh. Just a lil selfish and a crybaby lol

Becoming a villain was the best career choice you ever made. The moral satisfaction of being a hero was great, but it wasn’t paying the bills. Sure, helping the world become a better place was cool and all- but it wasn’t enough. You liked having nice things. Cute designer shoes, nice furniture for your apartment, and 26’ bundles weren’t cheap, and you were not going to live the life you deserve by saving kittens and stopping small drug dealers. You’re a powerful superhuman, and you knew that monetizing your powers would get you everything you deserved. So, you did some digging, made some connections, and started doing “jobs” for unsavory people. You refused to be a hitman, having all that on your conscience was not worth it, so you settled on doing theft, trespassing, and other unscrupulous things for cash. Not long after that, the cash started rolling in and you were finally living the life you wanted to.

You discovered your powers at age 10 after accidentally cloning yourself at a sleepover out of fear, while watching a horror movie. Over time, you discovered that you had more powers than just Bio-Fission. You had the power of energy projection, possession, telekinesis, resurrection, and teleportation. You were basically a very powerful witch. Your parents pulled you out of school as your powers grew in your teenage years, as your powers were very hard to control at first, and often your powers only came out when you were in emotional distress. You didn't mind being homeschooled, as your friends started to avoid you out of fear, and you were tired of eating lunch at a table by yourself. You used these years to learn as much as possible about your abilities and learn how to wield them. When you reached 18, you moved out of your parents house and started a new life in New York City. You kept a low profile, making a few friends but you never divulged the information about your powers to them. 

About two years into your stay in NYC, you heard about a Spiderman. A man with superhuman strength and a red and black costume, fighting crime in Brooklyn. You were inspired, it WAS possible to use your powers and be accepted and loved! You made a makeshift costume, a simple black long sleeve shirt and black leggings. You put a masquerade mask on your face, not knowing how to sew and contract a mask like Spiderman. You started fighting crime in Manhattan, making the city a better place one day at a time. 

Then, at 24 years old, you’d had enough of trying to save the city. It wasn’t paying the bills, and you didn't want to depend on your parents your whole life. So you made the switch. 

FIRST MEETING

Finding out you could teleport through dimensions exponentially increased your salary. You weren’t just doing jobs for disgustingly rich people on your Earth, you could go anywhere! You made a name for yourself on your Earth, many rich and powerful people sought you out to steal a priceless art piece or artifact for them. Business was booming, and you started to be on Spiderman and other heroes radars. With heroes on your ass, you thought it would be best to travel to other dimensions and do jobs, until the heat was off you. 

That’s how you found yourself on Earth-928B. Some greedy CEO hired you to take something for him, a rare Diamond located in a highly secured safe. This diamond was not for sale, but the CEO insisted he needed it for his collection, so when the $200k check cleared, you made your way to the safe and started to execute your plan. Your game plan was simple, teleport into the safe, grab the diamond, and teleport out. You were then to call your boss for the evening and make your way to the drop off location, in the Four Seasons parking lot, where you were staying for the “job”.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel O’Hara, this dimension’s Spiderman, was on your heels. He didn't really care about the crime you committed, but you were an anomaly and your presence in his universe was a threat. He got Lyla to track what hotel room you were staying in at the Four Seasons, and he knew you would be back right after the job. So he waited. He examined your room, looking for nothing in particular. You took very little with you. He found a small bag next to the bed, filled with some clothes and various toiletries. Yes, he knew he was invading your privacy, but he was intrigued by you for some reason. How were you able to just hop through dimensions? Lyla informed him about your various warrants throughout the multiverse, as well as your secret identity. He looked at your drivers license picture a bit too long, enchanted by your brown skin and bright smile. You were beautiful, and he admired your picture for a few more seconds before going back to rummaging through your bag. Your scent was very appetizing, the smell of lavender and shea butter filling his nostrils and calling to him. He came across a sexy black and red lace thong, and shamelessly held up up and nodded his head in approval. You were clearly a very stylish, sexy woman with expensive taste, just his type. Too bad he had to arrest you and forcefully send you home. 

He heard a key card go into the door, and he quickly stuffed the panties back in the bag and scrambled to a hiding spot behind the door in the dark en suite bathroom. He watched through the crack in the door and waited until you took your shoes off and moved toward the bed. You plopped on the bed, pulling out your phone and scrolled mindlessly. 

God, she really should work on her situational awareness. 

Miguel quietly made his way from behind the open door, and moved to stand in the dark bathroom doorway. You were facing away from him, playing some water sorting game on your phone as he silently made his way to the bed to grab and restrain you. 

Until his watch made a beeping sound. 

You moved impossibly fast, and he found himself impressed with you as you quickly stood up and projected an energy ball at him, causing the spot in his suit where you hit him to glitch. 

The masked intruder in your room stood completely still. He slowly raised his massive gloved hands, and you took in his appearance with wide eyes as you started to feel fear for the first time in a while. Fuck, he was huge. His stature was intimidating, and as you looked at the emblem on his chest, you started to breath harder. This colossal Spiderman is in your hotel room, and although you were very powerful, you didn't know what he was capable of. Your earths Spiderman had almost caught you once, and if he was as strong as that one, you knew you wouldn’t win this fight. 

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

You noticed a slight accent to his words, and if you weren’t so scared you would think his voice was sexy. 

“What do you want then?” 

You spoke in a whisper, too frightened to raise your voice. He had super hearing anyway. 

“Im here to take you back to Earth 1610. Its dangerous for you to be here.”

Fuck, he knew who you were. 

He was definitely going to take you back to your Earth and give you to your earths Spiderman. You would rather die then spend your life in that prison they stick all the villains in. You tried to will yourself to teleport the fuck out of there but your powers never worked how you wanted when you were this upset. Of course. 

You made a split decision and bolted to the door, very fast, but not fast enough. Spiderman grabbed your arms from behind and you knew you couldn’t fight him off. So you cloned yourself. 

You didn't look back to see his reaction, not that you could see any expression on that mask. You bolted out of the door and made your way to the stairwell. You couldn’t just leave your clone behind, if she were to be harmed or taken you wouldn’t be able to leave without suffering. Your clone was an extension of you, a perfect mirror of yourself and if you were to leave her behind it could fracture your mind beyond repair. You would also rather die than live your days as an insane witch. 

If you were calm enough, you could will your clone to come back into your mind. You took a few deep breaths and closed your eyes. You weren’t far from your room in this stairwell, so you were quickly able to find that invisible rope that connects your minds and yanked her back. You’re attempt was successful, and feeling whole again, you teleported to a random dimension in order the get the hell away from there. You made a mental note to never do a job on that Earth again. 

Meanwhile, back in the hotel room, Miguel cursed loudly at his failure. He then made a promise to find you, before you end up traveling universes again and possibly destroying them for your own selfish gain. 

SECOND MEETING

After almost being caught by the Behemoth Spiderman, you decided not to take any jobs for a while and lay low. You chose a random Earth again, and bought a room in a luxury resort on the beach in the Maldives. You spent your days drinking daiquiris and being served Caviar by the pool. You had been working so much that you had to spare no expenses, you had more than enough money to live lavishly for a while at least. Your mind often wondered towards that Spiderman you encountered. Your Earths Spider man was a young kid, the only one alive after the death of the older Spiderman. Neither Spiderman was as big as the one you encountered, and you wondered how many other variations of Spiderman there were. And how many of them knew who you were? Shit, how many variations of you were there? The mere thought of this was overwhelming, and you quickly got up to from the Pool chair you were lounging in and made your way to the bar to get another drink, hoping a buzz would kill your existential dread. 

When that didn't work, you decided to just go back to your room and watch some reality TV and relax. You had been living this lifestyle for almost a year, and you were starting to get tired of no romantic or even platonic relationships. You had lovers in the past, but due to your lifestyle they never lasted long. You longed for a stable life now, the villain life was getting old. But you were in too deep to go back now. 

You finally made it to your room, taking your shoes off and plopping on the couch in the living room of your spacious suite. You kicked your feet up and turned on the TV, ready to watch some petty arguments and pointless drama. 

“What did I tell you about being in universes that you don’t belong in?”

You froze as you heard that familiar deep voice with that accent behind you. Behemoth Spiderman made his way from behind you and stood in front of you on the couch with closed fists, caging you in. He must’ve been in the bedroom waiting for you. 

Your mind was racing, as you looked at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows. 

“How the fuck did you find me??” 

My voice was shaky, laced with fear. 

“You need to go back to Earth 1610. You are putting this whole universe at risk with your selfishness.” 

Spiderman spoke calmly, ignoring your question, chin up and shoulders wide with confidence. He finally found you. 

Miguel obsessively searched for you for weeks, you had somehow fallen off his radar, and because you don't travel through any portals, he couldn’t track you. He alerted the spider society of your existence, and told them to tell him if they have any tips. He strongly insisted that they didn't engage with you if they found you. He wanted to catch you himself, and he needed you to understand that you couldn’t just hop in other dimensions just because you want money. He finally got a tip when the Spiderman on the Earth you were currently on informed him that you were at this resort, your cover was blown on a drunken night when you teleported into a bodega late at night because you were craving a chopped cheese. You didn’t even think anyone would notice, but the owner alerted Spiderman about your appearance after checking the security camera. He then knew that you didn't have some evil “I will destroy all universes” plan, you were just trying to find happiness and live your life the way you wanted to. He didn’t know how you would react to him finding you again, but he was prepared to lock you in Spider HQ forever if you didn't abide by his rules. 

Miguel ignored his urge to get closer to you just to smell that sweet lavender and shea butter scent that he had in the back of his mind for weeks. He ignored the urge to ogle you as you were dressed in a skimpy bikini and a sheer coverup. You were breathtaking, he was definitely attracted to you and Miguel struggled to find any more words as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes and lip wobbling. He didn't want to make you cry, he didn't want to hurt you at all. He just wanted you to listen to him and stop making dumb, selfish decisions.

“Im sorry!! Please don’t kill me! Ill do whatever you say, please, just don’t kill me!”

You wailed, you knew you were in big trouble and you knew this Spiderman was deadass about catching you, especially if he was able to track you to a whole different universe. 

“Just come with me.”

He quickly grabbed your arm and opened a portal to Spider Society HQ. You looked around at the huge building, crawling with tons of spidermen. You felt your cheeks warm up in embarrassment and you felt them staring at you. 

Holy shit, you were fucked. Behemoth Spiderman led you throughout the lobby and building by your arm, presumably to your death. You were surprised when he threw you in a red prismatic cage. You stumbled and fell to the ground in the cage, looking up at Behemoth Spiderman. You were planning to beg for your life as he took his mask off, and whatever plea you were going to say completely disappeared as you took him in for the first time.

“I didn't know Spiderman was so hot.” 

The words just fell out of your mouth without thinking, and you quickly shut your mouth in embarrassment. Miguels face was stone cold and unreadable, and his red eyes pinned you in place with his stare. He didn't acknowledge your statement. He just stared at you. 

You quickly lowered your gaze, his stare was way too intense and his demeanor was unsettling. 

“Someone will bring you food shortly. Im taking you home tomorrow.”

His statement made you snap your head back up and shake your head vigorously. You stood up, still shaking your head, tears filling your eyes.

“NO! I can’t go home! They’ll put me in prison forever! I haven’t killed anyone, just let me go and I’ll do whatever you want.” 

You tried to use your puppy dog eyes that worked on so many men before, but your attempt at trying to guilt him didn't work at all. He didn't even respond as he turned away and walked away from the little prison you were in. 

“Asshole!”

 You screamed. He stopped in his tracks for a few seconds, and you waited to see if he would turn around and let you out. He just kept walking after about 15 seconds of standing like a statue.

You banged on the glass with your hands, and tried to use your energy balls to break the cage to no avail. You slumped to the ground in defeat, tears falling. 

You were so fucked. 

Miguel watched you cry in the cage from his office, feeling guilty. Sure, you were a villain and a criminal, but you have never harmed anyone, and you truly seemed to think you weren’t putting anyone in danger with your dimension hopping. You genuinely seemed like a good person who makes bad choices. 

He hated this feeling. He hated feeling at all, he worked tirelessly just to not feel anything. This was very unlike him, he knew he could be a bit obsessive but he wanted nothing more than to wipe your tears and comfort you. 

He watched you sob for a few more minutes before deciding to do something he thought he would never do. He was going to let you out. Based on your emotional state right now, he felt confident that you wouldn’t go outside your dimension again. For now at least. 

He went back to your cage, and you stood up to look at him with teary eyes. 

“You can go back home. I won’t hand you over to Spiderman but promise me you won’t go dimension hopping again.” 

“I promise! I promise! Thank you!”

He barely got his words out before you made your promises. He slightly shook his head, amused with how much of a crybaby you were. 

He opened your cage and opened a portal to your earth, and watched you as you walked through. He fought a smile as you turned around and thanked him one last time. The portal closed, and he turned to go back to his office as he ignored the protests of the other prisoners to let them out too. 

THIRD MEETING

You knew this was bad. You knew you weren’t supposed to come back to Nueva York but after 3 months of laying low and avoiding Spiderman on your Earth, you were bored. You only took this job because of the ridiculous amount of money that was offered to you. And also to maybe get a glimpse of the sexy Spiderman again. You just couldn’t refuse. Besides, it would take only a few minutes to steal this artifact anyway. He couldn’t possibly know you were even here, right? 

The job went smoothly, the client got the artifact and you were paid handsomely. This could last you a whole year! You were so high on your success that you made the decision to quickly stop at a bar here and celebrate. Behemoth Spiderman was far from your mind as you wandered the beautiful futuristic city. You settled on a nice bar with a patio and had a drink. And another. And about 3 more. You couldn’t resist a good smoky tequila. 

You stubbed around Nueva York for God knows how long, taking in the city. This place was nice, and it didn't even smell like pee unlike your Earths New York. Your drunken haze was interrupted when you heard commotion in an alleyway ahead. You heard fighting, and some type of weapons being fired. You slowly crept up to the alleyway, determined to stop this. You might be a thief, but you won’t just let someone die like this. 

You prepared to use your powers and ran into the alleyway, right into the action. If you were sober, you would’ve had a game plan. But the tequila took over and you were ready to save the day. 

You were shocked to find Behemoth Spiderman being beaten by three large men. They seemed to have supernatural abilities, as their movement were too fast to be human. 

Wasting no time, you attacked. You summoned your power from deep inside and threw the most powerful, brutal ball of energy towards the men. Two were knocked down and wheezing, and you quickly sent another powerful ball of energy towards the last one, incapacitating him. 

Behemoth Spiderman looked at you, eyes narrowing on his suit. He stormed towards you, enraged that you were here. 

“What the fuck are you-

His rant was cut off by a shot, and you looked in terror as a huge arrow pierced through his suit and chest, poking out of both sides. 

“Oh shit!” 

You immediately sent another energy ball up to the assailant behind Behemoth Spiderman, and used your telekinesis to take the gun away from him. 

Spiderman fell to his knees, losing blood and feeling dizzy. You looked on in disbelief. You can’t just let Spiderman die. 

He reaches a shaky hand forward, and tries to say something to you before choking on his blood. 

You had to save him. You knew that he would die. You pulled the arrow out of his chest, and he collapses on the ground. He’s not breathing, and he has no pulse. You had no choice but to resurrect him. 

You put your hand on his chest, and summoned your power once again. You would need a lot to pull this off. You had resurrected things before, like cats and your house plants, but never a human. 

Guess its never too late to start, right?

You feel your power coursing through you, fingers turning black as your power grows. You put your hands on his chest, silently appreciation the pure muscle of this man. You surge your power into him, and you blackout for a few seconds while the resurrection begins. You feel his wound close and his heart starts faintly beating again. You give him your power until you feel his heart beat strongly and his breaths are even. He will be asleep for some time, as he finishes healing, so you have enough time to escape. You press his watch, trying to see if there’s a button to press of help. You touch random things until a tiny holographic woman pops up. The AI woman scans Spiderman, probably searching for injuries.

You don’t wait for it to say anything. You let out a quick “Get him help.” 

You don’t wait for help to come. You teleport back to your dimension, in your parents house. You hadn’t talked to them in a while, afraid that they might not accept your lifestyle but you know they would protect you with their life. You pass out in the living room where you teleported into, resurrections always drained your energy, but this was another level. You let sleep take you as your father lifted you and put you in your childhood bed. 

Miguel woke up confused. He was sure he died, because of you. So why was he in the medical sector of the Spider Society? He called on LYLA, and she told him what happened. He was livid that you didn't listen to his demands, but he was eternally grateful that you saved him. He knew you were a good person. Truthfully, he had thought about you all the time, wishing he could talk to you and get to know you. 

He felt incredible gratitude towards you for saving him, and he was determined to find you again, this time to thank you.

FOURTH MEETING

After making a full recovery, Miguel started to think of ways to pay you back for what you did for him. He weighed all options in his head, before finally deciding on making you a upgraded suit with the best tech, after hearing that you were back to being a hero, this time in your hometown. He was proud of you, and he couldn’t wait to see you and tell you that. LYLA commented on his affection for you,  which he very unconvincingly brushed off. 

You seemed happy, Miguel admittedly stalked your social media from fake pages to track you down. And to also admire your pictures. He really wished you had a picture in that thong he saw in your hotel room. 

The suit was finally finished, it was black with hot pink detailing. It hugged all the right places, and the gear was basically indestructible. The face mask was in the masquerade style that you always wore. He really hoped you liked it. 

He came on a Sunday. He came with no suit on, just casual clothes. He waited outside your house until your parents left before knocking at the door, anxiety at an all time high. 

You opened the door without looking who it was, thinking one of your parents forgot something. You were shocked to see the beautiful face of the man that had tracked you and imprisoned you for a few hours. 

“Lo siento, I don’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to come here and thank you for what you did for me.” 

You immediately calmed down, relived that he hadn’t come to lock you up. You had been on your best behavior, after all. You gave him a smile, which he quickly returned. He looked hot in that white tee he was wearing, it hugged all of his muscles in the best way possible. 

“Come in.” 

He followed you inside, sitting with you on the couch. You were watching that same show in the Maldives. You two sat in silence for a while, staring at each other. The silence wasn’t awkward at all, his presence calmed you and you felt safe. He was distracted by you so much he forgot why he came in the first place. 

“So what’s in that box?”

You pointed to the gift in his hand, rising an eyebrow. 

“Oh- yeah,” he cleared his throat, embarrassed that he was staring at you in silence like a creep “This is for you. I know you’ve been helping the people here and I thought that you might appreciate a new suit.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise, not only did he come to thank you but he bought a gift too? Could he get any hotter? 

You snatched the gift with a huge smile and he laughed, your happiness made him happy. 

You ripped the box open, and your jaw dropped at your gift. The suit was beautiful, and it looks like it had some seriously fancy tech. You often opted just for a black jumpsuit, but this was such an upgrade. 

You couldn’t control your excitement, and you squealed. Spiderman thought it was the cutest sound he’d ever heard. You pulled him in for a hug, which he quickly returned, melting into your embrace. 

You pulled away and ran to your room. 

“I gotta try this on! Stay put.”

He couldn’t even leave if he tried. He wanted to be here with you forever. 

When you came out, his chest tightened at how well the suit fit you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He watched as you admired your new gear in the mirror, clearly pleased with it. 

“What do you think?”

He shook his head in disbelief, not understanding how someone could be so beautiful. 

“You look phenomenal.” 

You looked over to him, cheeks warming as you catch his gaze. You walk towards him on the couch, and he stands up. His eyes never leave your face and body as you come closer and closer. You stop when you’re chest to chest looking up at him with your beautiful eyes. 

“You know, you never told me your name.”

Spiderman looked down shyly.

“It’s Miguel.”

You nod, smiling. 

“Thank you, Miguel.”

He takes off your mask, putting it on the couch. 

“You’re welcome, hermosa.” 

Miguel grabs your face, leaning down and meets your lips, barely touching them, as if he’s teasing to see if you’ll pull away. When you don’t, he pulls you in for a slow, romantic kiss that takes your breath away. You don’t stop kissing, lips intertwining like you’ll pass away if you part. You don’t know much about Miguel, but you do know you could have your lips on his forever.