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thebettybook · 1 year

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(Chapter 1) A Spin on an Enchanted Tale

Characters: Miguel O’Hara, fem!reader, Gabriella O’Hara

Chapter 1 summary: My Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader AU inspired by Disney’s Enchanted (2007). Reader (a princess cosplayer in their late 20s) meets Miguel O’Hara (a 31-year-old single dad who doesn’t believe in fairy tales) and his adorable five-year-old daughter Gabriella O’Hara on a night in Nueva York

Warnings: A fluff story with just a sprinkle of Miguel angst

Spanish used (I used SpanishDict): Papá (Dad); Por el amor de Dios (For the love of God); Dulce sueños, mi solecita (Sweet dreams, my lovely sunshine); Tres leches cake (Sponge cake soaked in three different types of milk)

Chapters: Ch 1 {below} | Ch 2 | Ch 2.5 | Ch 3 {in progress}

“And they lived happily ever after.”

That was the phrase you could always count on at the end of each and every one of your favorite fairy tales.

That was the ending phrase that marked new beginnings, and so far, your “new beginning” seemed like it had already ended.

You let out a sigh, shifting against the metal bench you sat on. It was only about an hour or two since you were kicked out of your apartment; your landlady was tired of you being behind on rent.

To be fair, it wasn’t really your fault (as you tried to justify to yourself). An aspiring fantasy cosplay designer in their late 20s who wanted to create princess gowns, you moved to Nueva York to learn from the best of fashion houses that specialized in haute couture.

As with moving to any major city with bright optimism would go, you found yourself rejected by every fashion house you could find and turned to part-time work as a princess cosplayer for children’s parties.

Even though you loved your work as a princess cosplayer for children’s parties, the lack of pay from the job led you to this exact moment: sitting on a bench in full princess wedding cosplay and a suitcase carrying all of your belongings (a few day outfits in dire need of a good wash, your sewing machine, and a bundle of fabric scraps and accessories you kept with you at all times) parked next to you.

Ok, maybe it was your fault for thinking you could “make it” in a big city, as if you were in a movie or something.

At least no one was gawking at you. Nueva Yorkers were far too busy rushing into the many restaurants and shops around you or too busy looking at their phones to notice a “princess” in their midst.

Endless layers of ivory tulle pooled around you, shifting against each other as you lifted your feet a bit in front of you to make sure the dirt on the Nueva York streets didn’t soil your gown.

Your fingers picked up one puff sleeve larger than the size of your head that began to droop down your shoulder. If you weren’t kicked out of your apartment, you would have admired your handiwork on the gown—a white puff-sleeved wedding dress with a bustier corset and full floor-length skirt outlined with ruby lines.

You found the dress at a thrift store the day you moved to Nueva York and brought home to spruce it up, and had finally gotten the chance to wear the gown earlier today for a job at a child’s birthday party where you were requested to be the child’s favorite princess in a wedding gown. Your coworker, who was supposed to show up as the prince in his wedding attire, didn’t even come.

Despite that, you made sure the child had a fun party by putting on your best impression of the princess character and singing the character’s songs to the best of your ability along with the child.

A sad smile graced your lips for the first time tonight. You always believed that magic could be found in situations of the unexpected, but right now it was hard to find even a speck of magic to make you feel better.

A groan escaped from your lips as your tiara began to slip, too. The gold tiara nestled on top of your head, gleaming against the Nueva York moonlight with beaded ivory flowers you hot-glued onto the tiara, weighed on your head—heavy with all the questions that began to swirl in your mind.

I’ll have to call my boss tomorrow. How do I tell her I’m basically homeless now?

What do I do now? Where do I go?

You didn’t have any friends in Nueva York you could call about your current situation. Sure, you were friendly with your party princess coworkers, but you all didn’t contact each other much outside of work. Thus, staying with a friend wasn’t an option for you.

Your hands made their way up to your head, plucking off the tiara. You held it in your hands, gliding your fingers over the beaded flowers of the tiara.

The irony of being dressed like a princess in a wedding gown about to ride off into the sunset—or in your case, moonlight—to “happily ever after”—

“Are you a princess?” A voice so small, yet filled with such curiosity and wonder, interrupted your thoughts.

Your eyes flew up from your tiara to the owner of the voice. The voice matched its owner—a little girl who stared at you with awe.

She didn’t look older than six, and seemed to be into soccer, as you saw from her lavender soccer uniform, waves of dark-brown hair tied up in a ponytail, and black-and-white soccer cleats. She also had the same look most children from the parties you worked at did—her warm brown eyes widened and her mouth on the brim of beaming the sunniest of smiles at seeing you like you were a dream come true.

You couldn’t help but offer her a smile; even if your day wasn’t going great, you could at least make someone else’s day great.

“I suppose you could call me that,” you let out a twinkling laughter—one that you learned to perfect for your princess performances. “I’m Princess Y/N.”

“I knew it!” The little girl’s eyes shined like stars—something you’ve never seen in your time in Nueva York. “You’re so pretty, and your tiara is really pretty, too!”

Your lips broke into the most genuine smile you’ve had all day. “You think so?” You held the tiara out so that the little girl could see it better. “Wanna know a secret?”

The little girl nodded, her ponytail swishing behind her.

“I made it myself,” you revealed in a loud whisper, the back of your hand to the side of your lips.

“How?!” The girl’s eyes brimmed with even more curiosity. “I didn’t know princesses could make their own tiaras!”

“Princesses can do or make anything they want,” you winked, making the little girl giggle. “Whether that’s wearing a tiara from the castle’s treasury or sprucing up a $5 one with some paint and a hot-glue gun.”

As the child marveled at your tiara, you scanned your surroundings for any parent or guardian that the girl might’ve belonged to. To your slightly-frantic dismay, the people around you and the little girl just keep walking.

“Little one, could you please tell me your name? And if you have a mom or dad or guardian nearby?” you offered the child a kind smile. If you didn’t find the girl’s parent or guardian and the girl was lost, you decided that you would help the girl and call the police.

She nodded, her eyes moving up from your tiara to you. “I’m Gabriella, but you can call me Gabi. I don’t have a mom, but I have a—”

“Gabriella!” A man’s voice, ringing with worry, called out to the little girl. The thuds of his footsteps grew in volume as he ran towards the two of you and cut through some pedestrians who shot him annoyed glares before resuming their walks.

“Papá!” Gabriella ran towards the man, who immediately scooped her up in a hug.

“I was so worried I lost you,” the man’s voice was only filled with immense relief. He towered over most of the pedestrians around the three of you. While he was tall (probably over 6 ft tall), you couldn’t see his face clearly as he buried his face in the crook of Gabriella’s neck.

Gabriella managed to wiggle her way out of her father’s tight grasp. “I wasn’t lost, I was talking to Princess Y/N!” Gabriella turned around in her father’s arms to smile and point at you.

At the mention of your name, the man’s head snapped up. Your breath hitched; from the way his dark-brown hair swept back and curled at the nape of his neck to highlight his chiseled cheekbones and jaw to the biceps that bulged under his cerulean blazer and white dress shirt, he was nothing short of handsome. The warmth in his hickory orbs at the sight of Gabriella only made him more handsome in your eyes. Truly, he put every prince cosplayer you’ve ever worked with to shame.

Despite the sharp lines under his eyes, Gabriella’s father looked like he was in his early 30s. Before you could introduce yourself or assure him that his child was safe all along, his thick, dark brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed at you. The warmth in his eyes grew cold with suspicion as he scanned you from head-to-toe. You didn’t seem like a threat, but as a father, he had to ensure his child’s safety.

“I was going to call the police if I couldn’t find her parents or guardians,” you couldn’t help but let out in a rush, feeling the need to explain yourself as he continued to eye you.

After what felt like an eternity of his eyes on you, and after him coming to the silent conclusion that you were telling the truth, Gabriella’s father set her down and took her hand in his. He stepped forward, extending his free hand to you.

“Thank you for looking after my daughter,” he gazed down at you, his frown lines softening as he offered you a half-smile. “I’m Miguel O’Hara.”

“Of course,” you brought your hand toward his. He didn’t hesitate to give you a firm handshake. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m a princess cosplayer for children’s birthday parties, so before you think I’m some criminal trying to kidnap children or something here, I just got kicked out of my apartment right after coming back from a job in this getup.”

Gabriella’s father’s–Miguel’s–smile vanished, his brows knitting together. “Why’d you get kicked out?” His accusatory tone indicated that he wondered if you got kicked out of your apartment for any suspicious reasons on your part.

You fought the urge to let out a sigh of frustration. You had a long day, and you didn’t appreciate being interrogated by this frustratingly-handsome man, but you also understood his concern since he almost lost his daughter.

“I got kicked out because I was behind on rent,” you turned your face away from him in an effort to hide any hint of embarrassment on your face. “Being a princess cosplayer for children’s parties doesn’t exactly help pay bills. After I got kicked out, I ended up sitting here and Gabriella came up to me.”

“Ah,” Miguel paused and pursed his lips, not really sure what to say to make a stranger (a stranger he now deemed as a harmless stranger) feel better. “I’m…sorry you got kicked out.”

“Thanks,” you turn your face back towards him, now being the one to give him a half-smile. Your eyes then flitted down to your and his hands, realizing he didn’t let go of your hand till now. Miguel’s eyes followed yours before retracting his hand with an awkward chuckle. In a poor effort to make things less awkward, you echoed with an awkward laugh of your own.

You were both too preoccupied with this interaction of pure awkwardness to notice Gabriella’s movements. The top of her head barely reached Miguel’s knees as she switched her gaze from her father, to you, and then to your hand in his. A grin a mile wide lit up on her face at the two of you, the wheels in her five-year-old brain turning.

“Papá,” she began. At his daughter’s voice, Miguel instantly turned his attention back to her and kneeled down to face her at eye level.

“I’m glad you’re safe, but what did I say about running off by yourself and talking to strangers?” You noticed that Miguel’s voice was nothing but soft and gentle every time he talked with Gabriella.

Gabriella clasped her hands behind her back. “That I shouldn’t. I’m sorry, I just wanted to talk to the princess. But I won’t go away by myself anymore, pinky promise.”

She held out her right pinky in front of her, making her all the more adorable. Miguel only had a soft smile as he linked his own right pinky with Gabriella’s.

You eased down on the bench in silence, your half-smile growing as you watched the way Miguel gently swiped away a stray eyelash from Gabriella’s cheek with the back of his thumb.

You could tell he was having a hard time kneeling down with his tall stature and all by the way he shifted his feet behind him. But you also noticed that he kept kneeling down to appear somewhat at eye and height level with Gabriella so that he could foster healthy discussions between the two of them as parent and child. Even though you just met him, you could tell Miguel was a great dad and that he loved Gabriella more than anything.

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” Warmth flooded Miguel’s eyes, pooling gold flecks of honey into his hickory irises. “Let’s go home, say ‘goodbye’ to the princess.”

To your and his surprise, Gabriella shook her head furiously, her ponytail swishing from side-to-side. “No!”

“‘No’?” Miguel raised his eyebrows.

“Princess Y/N doesn’t have anywhere to go,” Gabi pointed at your suitcase, jutting her bottom lip forward to convey a pout. You were shocked she even noticed your suitcase; kids were more perceptive than you thought.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, little one,” you waved your hand, mustering the best and brightest princess smile you could put on. “I’m just waiting for my prince to arrive on his horse. Should be aaaany minute now.”

Miguel’s gaze moved from Gabriella, to your suitcase, to you. He didn’t know whether to stare at you to wonder if you were being serious about the prince and horse (and considering that this was Nueva York, he shouldn’t be too surprised), or whether to smile at the fact that you were trying to keep up your princess act for his daughter.

“My dad’s better than any prince,” Gabi took Miguel’s large hand in an effort to drag him closer to you before turning her head to gaze up at Miguel. “Papá, can the princess please stay with us? We have a ton of rooms at home.”

“No, no, it’s ok—,” you began, shaking your head as furiously as Gabriella earlier.

“—Gabi,” Miguel interrupted you, his tone a bit more firm this time. His gaze set on your gown. “We can’t just take in a stranger.”

Miguel’s hands rested on his hips. He couldn’t help but eye you from head-to-toe again, as if he was trying to detect any threats you might have kept hidden from him.

You met him with a raised brow and crossed your arms in front of your torso, trying to appear nonchalant and ignore the heat growing on your cheeks at the fact that his eyes were on you again.

“But you always tell me that it’s important to help others,” Gabriella put her hands on her hips, comically trying to mimic her father. “And I wanna help my best friend Princess Y/N.”

Miguel’s gaze dropped from yours as he turned to his daughter faster than lightning. “What? I thought I was your best friend,” he mumbled. You let out a snort of amusement as you heard Miguel sound genuinely hurt.

“You can be my best friend again if you let Princess Y/N stay with us,” Gabriella ran over to your side, sitting next to you on the bench.

She wrapped her hands around your arm and clung to your side despite the layers of tulle from your gown that tried to push her away. “I don’t want Princess Y/N to be cold and outside by herself,” Gabriella whispered as she nuzzled her face against your arm, making you want to shed tears right then and there.

“Gabi, I’ll be ok,” you tried your best to muster a smile and appear brave for Gabriella. However, you knew you weren’t being too convincing, and the subtle crack in your voice stemming from your fear of the unknown was something you didn’t miss.

Miguel didn’t miss it either as he let out a huff mixed with annoyance at the situation and sympathy for you. His daughter was just as stubborn as he could be, but she also had a point.

As a gentleman through and through, Miguel didn’t feel right with the thought of leaving a lady like you out alone on the streets of Nueva York in the middle of the night (even if he didn’t question that you could defend yourself). What kind of example would he be setting for Gabriella if he just took her home and left you here?

“…Alright, you can stay with us if you’d like,” Miguel let out with a sigh. “And you can stay with us while we help you find another place in Nueva York to live.”

Your eyes widened at his decision, and your mouth opened instinctively to say “No, thank you,” but before you could do so, Gabi ran back to her father and into his arms.

“You’re the best, Papá!” Gabi’s statement made Miguel beam brighter than the Nueva York moon as he scooped her up. If you weren’t so shocked by his proposal, you would’ve laughed at how endearing he was with his daughter.

The two O’Haras then looked at you while you tried to weigh your options, but you only had two:

1. Stay with this little family you knew nothing about

2. Stay out on the streets until you could contact your boss (which would be tomorrow because you felt unprofessional at the thought of calling your boss after work hours).

“…If it’s not a bother, I would love to take you up on that offer,” you shot Miguel a smile that no doubt displayed all your nerves at the thought of staying at a stranger’s place, even though he was the one who just offered a stranger to stay at his place.

“You’re coming home with us!” Gabriella raised her hands in the hair before scrambling down from Miguel’s arms. Before you could blink, she took your right hand and tugged on it so you could stand up.

“I suppose I am,” you chuckled, letting yourself be led by the child. As you stood up, you used your left hand to smooth the front of your gown’s skirt. You then turned to your suitcase, only to see Miguel approaching it.

“I got it, if that’s ok with you,” Miguel tipped his head to the direction of your suitcase.

You nodded, letting yourself be led forward by Gabriella to the direction of wherever you assumed would be her and Miguel’s home.

“Thank you. Not just for that, but for letting me stay at your place,” you turned to Miguel as he held your suitcase’s handle with his right hand. “I haven’t met many kind people in Nueva York since I moved here.”

“It’s Nueva York, not exactly the place for fairy tales,” Miguel’s sarcasm slipped out with ease without thinking. He then turned his face away from you when he realized that he forgot you were literally dressed as a princess. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right,” you shot him a rueful smile as the two of you fell into the rhythm of walking next to each other with Gabriella skipping between you two. With one of her hands in your right hand, Gabriella took Miguel’s left hand in her free hand. “I learned that the hard way.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Miguel replied with more sincerity this time. He didn’t follow up with anything more to say, and the two of you walked past a few streets in awkward silence, the beeps! of Nueva York taxis and Gabriella’s upbeat humming filling the silence.

“We don’t need to take a taxi?” You spoke up, trying to start a light conversation with Miguel.

“Our place is just a few minutes from here,” Miguel answered, his gaze set straight ahead. “I was actually taking Gabi to get ice cream not too far from our place after we came home from her game.”

“Yeah! We were gonna get ice cream!” Gabriella’s eyes lit up even more at the mention of ice cream. “‘Cuz I scored a goal today! Wait, Papá, where’s my ice cream?”

“I didn’t know I was in the presence of a soccer star,” you grinned down at Gabriella, who smiled toothily up at you at being called a “soccer star.”

Despite fatigue from a long day of work seeping into Miguel’s bones, his lips couldn’t help but falter from their default straight line into a small smile at seeing Gabriella be so happy—more so than usual—in your presence.

“Well, you ran off, so I had to find you and didn’t get us any ice cream,” Miguel raised an eyebrow down at Gabriella, but his smile and tone indicated his light teasing. “We can get ice cream tomorrow.”

“Yay!” Gabriella raised her hands in the air, swinging your and Miguel’s hands that held hers forward. She then spotted what you assumed to be her and Miguel’s building, and broke away from the two of you to run up ahead.

“Por el amor de Dios,” Miguel muttered under his breath, stopping in his tracks and leaving your suitcase next to you. “Why does she have to run so fast?”

Without another word, he sprinted after Gabriella. You were surprised Miguel could run fast, but you figured that it made sense since he was so built.

Your gaze then panned from Miguel catching up with Gabriella and scooping her up with ease to the building before the three of you.

The building was easily the tallest apartment complex in Nueva York—a cylindrical tower with state-of-the-art glass architecture.

“Wait…,” your voice trailed off, your chin tipped up as your eyes could barely find the tip of the tower. You walked toward Gabriella and Miguel while hauling your suitcase behind you. “Where are we?”

“We’re home!” Gabriella answered in Miguel’s arms as he stood at the glass door entrance. “Papá and I live at the very top!”

Your eyes couldn’t help but bug. “Miguel, is it ok if I ask what you do for a living?”

“I work in research,” Miguel chose not to elaborate, making him sound like a secretive spy in a movie without meaning to. His broad back was to you as he used his free hand to place a card against the building’s recognition panel. It beeped green, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were breaking into a top secret government building.

“Papá’s the king of his job!” Gabriella chimed with adorable pride for her father as the building’s double doors swished open.

You could only assume “king of his job” meant Miguel was either the CEO of his workplace or he held an equally (if not more) high position, but you decided it wiser to not ask any more questions for the time being as you followed Miguel and Gabriella to the elevator.

The elevator, like the rest of the building, was cylindrical, and spacious enough that you guessed it could probably hold 300 people at a time.

Once inside, Miguel tapped a code into a panel, which you assumed was for accessing his and Gabriella’s home. Your shock at everything only increased when the elevator ascended past 50 floors.

50…60…90…

Gabriella yawned when the elevator passed 90 floors, prompting Miguel to rub her back as she snuggled her face against his shoulder. It wasn’t long before she was out like a light, snoozing in her father’s arms.

“Dulce sueños, mi solecita,” Miguel pressed a kiss on the side of Gabriella’s head. A yawn unleashed from him after he pulled back from Gabriella at the same time you let out your own yawn.

Your eyes met his, and this time Miguel gave you a kinder, more sincere smile as he found it funny that the two of you yawned at the same time.

Ding! The elevator chimed once it reached the 99th floor, the top floor of the building. You tried to brace yourself for whatever the 99th floor would reveal of Gabriella and Miguel’s home, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight before you.

Their penthouse gleamed in all its glory, from the marbled flooring to the ivory spiral staircase in the left corner. To the right of the penthouse was a massive kitchen with a sleek silver stove and a matching fridge, island, and cabinets.

The walls were a simple white which only added to the elegance of the entire penthouse. You noticed that instead of expensive paintings that usual penthouses would have, the walls of this penthouse were decorated with Gabriella’s various crayon drawings and framed pictures of Gabriella and Miguel from her birth till now.

Your eyes were captivated especially by those framed pictures, but before you could step into the penthouse, you turned to Miguel.

“Shoes off?” you whispered, not wanting to wake Gabriella. He answered you with a nod.

You shuffled off your [your favorite color] sneakers, placing them on a three-tiered shoe rack by the elevator door as Miguel did the same with his burgundy dress shoes and Gabriella’s soccer cleats.

“I didn’t know princesses wore sneakers,” Miguel’s voice was so quiet that you couldn’t tell if he was serious or teasing.

“This princess does,” you straightened up, grinning as if you were revealing a corporate secret. “Especially if she has to run after children all day. Though I only wear sneakers when I get to wear long gowns like these that hide my shoes. Wouldn’t want to ruin the magic for the children.”

“We can’t have that, now, could we,” Miguel flashed you a tiny grin, revealing his pearly whites. “If children realized princesses wore sneakers and not glass slippers, that could mean the end of the multiverse.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at Miguel’s attempt to engage with you in light teasing and chatter. “Multiverse, huh? Are you into comic books or superheroes or something?”

He merely shrugged his free shoulder as if to appear cool and not “nerdy.” “I like science.” Before you could ask Miguel more about what comic books he liked, Gabriella stirred in his arms.

Miguel wheeled your suitcase to you with his free hand. “I’m going to set Gabriella down in her room,” he whispered in an even more hushed tone. You had to stop yourself from chuckling; he just didn’t seem like the type of person who whispered often. “Make yourself at home in the meantime.”

He made a beeline for the spiral staircase, going up to where you assumed were all the penthouse’s bedrooms.

You knew he said “make yourself at home” out of customary politeness as a host, but you found it difficult to instantly “make yourself at home” in such a grand place.

Not knowing where to sit or where you could sit, you took a step toward a wall lined with framed pictures of Gabriella as a baby.

Some photos were in black and white, some were in full color. A smile bloomed on your face at how cute Gabriella looked as a baby, her smile in the pictures just as infectious then as it was now.

You also noticed, however, that Gabriella’s biological mother wasn’t in the picture—in any picture on the walls, to be exact. There didn’t seem to be a partner in Miguel’s life either, from the way all the family pictures on the walls—whether they were selfies taken by Miguel or pictures taken by someone else—only had him and Gabriella in them.

Your nosy mind couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Gabriella was adopted or conceived via surrogate. The first theory, you crossed out of your mind since Gabriella looked too much like Miguel to be adopted.

Before you could come up with other theories, Miguel descended the spiral staircase and made his way over to you with a neatly-folded bundle of clothes in his hands. He stopped next to you and followed your gaze to one of the pictures.

“I took that one on Gabi’s first birthday,” a soft smile on his face as he nodded to a framed picture of a baby Gabriella laughing at the camera despite having globs of cake and frosting on her face and on the teeny swirls of her wavy brown hair. “That was the first time I ever made tres leches cake, and I’d say she loved it.”

You grinned at the picture, before biting your bottom lip in hesitation. “May I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.”

Miguel simply nodded, his eyes roaming the various pictures of Gabriella. “Has it always…been just you and Gabriella?” you kept your eyes forward. “Sorry, I know it’s a personal question.”

You turned your face towards Miguel, whose eyes set on a black-and-white picture of a sleeping newborn baby Gabriella, swaddled in a blanket and bald head covered with a cap.

Various emotions flickered in Miguel’s eyes which you could only guess to be sorrow, pain, confusion—not at Gabriella in the picture, but at whatever or whoever was related to that picture.

“It has,” Miguel answered simply and all-too-quickly, the edge in his tone indicating that he didn’t want to talk about the subject more.

He blinked, as if telling himself to forget whatever or whoever he was thinking about, and turned his attention back to the bundle of clothes in his hands.

“I wasn’t sure if you had any clothes to wear in the meantime, so I grabbed a couple of old shirts and pants from my closet,” Miguel’s voice sounded more normal now. “I don’t think we’re the same size, but you can keep these and use them as you see fit.”

“Thank you,” you took the bundle of t-shirts, dress shirts, and sweatpants from Miguel’s hands. You were sure they were a couple sizes larger than your own based on Miguel’s figure, but the gears were already turning in your brain on how you could sew and upcycle some of these.

“I’ll show you to your room,” Miguel began walking to the direction of the stairs once more, his long and fast strides making it difficult for you to keep up with him.

You followed him up the stairs to a spacious floor with around five rooms and more walls framed with Gabriella’s drawings and pictures of Miguel and Gabriella.

“That room is my office, and the other one is for storage,” Miguel pointed to two rooms to the right at the end of the hallway. “That’s Gabriella’s room and my room’s next to her’s.” He pointed to two rooms on the left at the other end of the hallway.

“And this will be your room for the time being,” he led you to the room in the middle next to his room. “It’s our guest room.”

He opened the door to reveal a neat room with a queen-sized bed with a bedside table, and desk near the window area. The entire room matched the sleek aesthetic of the penthouse, from the silver bedside table to the matching desk.

You rolled your suitcase onto the polished wood-tiled floor of the bedroom, noticing a private bathroom just a few feet away from the bed. The whole room felt more like a hotel room than any bedroom you’ve ever been in.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me,” Miguel stood at the door, his hands naturally resting on his hips. “Our laundry room is downstairs next to the kitchen if you need to use it tomorrow.”

“Thanks again,” you turned your attention away from the desk to Miguel, giving him a smile you hoped that conveyed your immense gratitude.

Miguel simply nodded and turned his back, ready to leave.

You couldn’t help but wonder and worry if he was mad or something at you asking him that question earlier. You also finally noticed the shadows of gray that filled the lines of stress and fatigue under his eyes.

Whether such stress and fatigue was from his mysterious job or from almost losing Gabriella tonight, you didn’t know. But what you did know was that you wanted to tell him the words on the tip of your tongue—maybe to prove to him you weren’t a bad person trying to take advantage of his and his daughter’s kindness, or maybe because you just wanted to say the following:

“Good night, Miguel. I hope you sleep well.”

Miguel stopped in his tracks before turning his face back towards you. “What?” Your statement shocked him; it had been a while since someone other than Gabriella wished him a good night’s rest, and it had been an even longer while since he actually had a good night’s rest.

“I said ‘good night’?” You cocked your head to the side, worrying if you said something wrong again. “And that I hope you sleep well?”

“…Night,” Miguel mumbled, turning his back to you once more, his hand resting on the door knob. “I hope you sleep well, too.”

The door knob clicked after Miguel ducked his head below the head of the doorframe and made his way out of the room.

You stared at the closed door for a few seconds before making your way over to the closet. It was roomy and empty, with only hangers in it. You carefully peeled your gown off your body and hung it on a hanger.

The gown took up a good quarter of the closet’s space from its sheer size alone, but you had a garment bag in your suitcase you could use.

Putting the gown in a garment bag and taking a bath will have to wait till tomorrow. You didn’t fight the urge to let out a yawn. Sleep. I need sleep.

You didn’t even think twice about putting on an old white t-shirt and gray sweatpants from Miguel—both oversized on you—until you stepped into the marble-tiled bathroom and glanced at your reflection in the mirror.

I sure don’t look like a princess now. You let out a chuckle before brushing your teeth.

It wasn’t until you set your tiara (you didn’t realize you were still wearing it) down on the bedside table and settled into your new bed that your mind wanted to keep you awake with various thoughts.

I’m wearing a stranger’s shirt and pants. A very handsome stranger. And I’m sleeping in his house.

Wait, that sounds wrong. You shook your head before turning to rest your head on the other side of the plush pillow.

I probably shouldn’t have asked him earlier about whether it was just him and Gabi.

I don’t want to bother Miguel any more than I already have.

Before you could let more intrusive thoughts swim in your mind, another yawn escaped from your lips.

I won’t stay here long.

I’ll figure my life out tomorrow and be out of here before we all know it…

— — — — —

The same time you drifted off into dreamland, Miguel stared up at the ceiling of his own bedroom next door.

It had been a long day for him, from almost losing Gabriella to taking in a woman who dressed up as a princess for a living.

Did I just let a stranger into my house?

Shock.

…

She won’t stay here long. We’ll be back to our own lives as soon as possible.

And with that, Miguel nodded to himself. Logically, or at least logically to him, it shouldn’t take more than a few days to find a new place for you to stay in Nueva York.

Miguel was someone who despised the unexpected—he was used to being in control so he could know what would happen next. So that his daughter could be safe. So that he could feel safe.

Gabriella randomly running away from him at the ice cream shop was unexpected. And you…you were definitely unexpected. While Gabriella liked you and you seemed like a nice enough person, a smidge of distrust for you gnawed at Miguel’s mind.

However, it was your words that bugged him more.

“I hope you sleep well.” Can’t she tell I barely get any sleep?

He let out a puff of air through his nose, only to be surprised by a yawn that followed. It wasn’t long before his eyelids began to droop.

Despite everything that happened today, little did Miguel know that he was going to get better sleep tonight than he did in ages.

🍓 Strawbetty’s notes: If you read all the way to here, Miguel gives you a 🍓 :D. I’m gonna make a separate post with more of my author’s notes on this fic later but for now I’m eepy :’)

🍓 Tag list: @allysunny, @charms-cat, @tymns, @tayleighuh, @moyo5653, @sizeablysized, @deputy-videogamer, @marvelofcourse, @flordelalunas, @thethirdyo, @sleepingghoule444, @eyes-stuff. If you would like to be added to the tag list for upcoming chapters, please comment or reblog below :)

Important:

🍓 I don’t own any of the characters I mention or write about; they belong to their original and respective creators.

🍓 All content on this blog is created by me, @thebettybook (excluding posts I reblog that aren’t my own posts and unless I state otherwise). Do not modify, claim, repost, or translate my work onto this platform and any other platform.

🍓 Reblogs are appreciated :). Want more Miguel content? Check out my masterlist.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #across the spiderverse #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #gabriella o'hara

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kiss-me-muchoo · 1 year

Text

𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one || part two: with a broken heart

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ When Miguel fell so hard for an anomaly that ended up being another one of his canon events; a soulmate.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ fluff, angst?, reader is a hot Hispanic sunshine, plot twist at the end, age gap? (How old is Miguel?, like 28, early 30's?, reader is like 20 not specified) I'm 19, so in my head reader is 20, fuck it <3.

𝐀𝐍_ hellooo, this is my Ist fic for this fandom, I've been trying to hide this crush for weeks, I can't anymore.

♪ ♫ 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙎𝙏 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙈𝙤𝙟𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖.

<3,𝙄𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙭 (+fics)

_________________

[ 2 months before the events of SPIDERMAN: ATSV]...

Nothing is perfect; nothing can be that special. But somehow, you ended up being that, or at least almost.

Because this is how everything starts; you were stressing out for college sophomore year finals when in the middle of your room, a portal opened and absorbed you.

Sounds incredibly ridiculous and cringe... Right?. Well, it's about to get worse.

The portal only left you there, hanging between random universes. There you are seeing how your shoes fly away and your hair is tangling like crazy, and out of nowhere, a spider that seemed like it was made of silver bit you. And seconds later, you were back at home stressing over the finals.

Yeah, you didn't think it would be a problem, only that it increased your phobia of spiders. Later, you accepted that Los Angeles would have an arachnid vigilante.

Yeah, Los Angeles. No shit, you wouldn't fly to save New York in your universe just to fit the stereotype. Besides, they already had one. One who died and then the most significant and original anomaly, Miles Morales.

That's for later, by the way.

You had your suspicions of the existence of the multiverse but no curiosity. You only cared about your sacred home and, to be more specific, your friends and family.

So it goes; you were a spider-woman with sassy webs and fantastic hair, saving people from the crime on Skid Row, abusive elites in Downtown, corruption in Glendale, etc etc.

Your family didn't knew about it, nor friends. Social media gave you a cool but weird surname; Aragmatica.

So you had everything; no pressure from being the spider-woman Aragmatica, wonderful friends, and family. A transcription remote job and a firm college pathway to be a writer and teacher. Though, you would be lying if you said you didn't want to meet the Spiderman from New York. Your abilities were barely used, so the news about your existence were remotely passed by. That's why you were completely fine with it, you had everything.

Except for one thing; love.

You didn't have anyone to hold, anyone who made you laugh. Someone who made you feel the scarlet blush and raced heartbeats. Thus, Why would you care for that? You were so young and you didn't need that commitment yet.

Finally, your official transcript from that year was carefully sealed in an envelope. Summer break was yours, starting with a good ballet class.

Your spider senses weren't fully developed because you never saw 4 pair of eyes watching you.

The class was fun, though. All the music was from the most famous plays, and having the opportunity to wear a tutu was always accepted.

You didn't care coming out of the building wearing it after the friendly teacher gifted you the fluffy piece of clothing.

You also didn't care to sing slightly aloud as you walked towards your car.

And that's when 4 individuals interfered with your way; Peter B. Parker, Hobie Brown, and Gwen Stacy.

"Uh... nice cosplays. But the Comic-Con is more to the south. In San Diego..." They looked at each other. Only the older guy stepped further, laughing.

"Oh, you're funny. There's also one in my universe, but it's celebrated in Coney Island and-" only that Gwen pinched him. The older man frowned.

"She's leaving, Peter," Gwen said.

"Hey! Wait!" Peter stopped you from closing your car door, and you looked more confused than ever.

"Dude, back off. There must be kids near us. You don't want to do this..." Hobie giggled. He had remained leaning against a mailbox during the whole interaction.

"What? No-, I-. We need to talk to you... we're also spider people" Rolling your eyes, you just rested your head on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, your suits are too good to be a cosplay. I like your pointe shoes though" Gwen blushed but said thank you for your flattery.

"I'm Peter B. Parker. The guy with the cool outfit that's Hobie Brown. And the girl with the pointe shoes you liked is Gwen Stacy" They looked lovely. Hobie and Gwen, probably your age, but you were running late for dinner. You had to drop the transcript for validation in early registration for admissions to transfer.

You didn't have time for this "Have you heard of the Avengers initiative?" Type of moment.

The best you could do was politely turn them down. But they were already inside your car.

"Hey!. Okay, if this is some spider intervention, I don't have time to travel between universes and that stuff" Hobie started playing your radio. Again, you rolled your eyes.

"This is good music, girl. Nice.." he said, making you smile a little. He seemed nicer.

"Thanks, but." Then Gwen interrupted you.

"You could be dangerous or cause a massive disaster for canon. You are a rare case between spiders" For the first time, you were quiet. Maybe that omen was this, that not everything could be perfect.

"You felt it...." Peter said because your silence was loud enough to tell him.

"You knew about us then?"

"The multiverse and variations are not a thrill in this universe, but I wasn't expecting this on a random Friday afternoon. Besides that, Why don’t you go and ask the famous Spiderman from this earth? " you explained and questioned. They all exchanged looks, which makes you grow curious, but you ignore it of course.

"That Spiderman is not our problem right now. Our boss wants to meet you. We need to know what type of anomaly you are" They all heard you sighing. You had too many questions but also tired, so you wouldn't be annoyingly asking them millions of questions.

"Okay." Peter shrugged in disbelief.

"That's it?. No questions?" Gwen passed you a blue band, probably to travel between universes.

"Not energetic nor annoying. Miguel will like her," Hobie stated, comfortable in the passenger seat.

"Just don't smile too much, avoid questions, and you'll be fine" Humming in agreement, you waited.

A portal of bright colors and blinding flashes appeared seconds later from your car's windshield. It was different from what you expected. In the movies looked easier.

"Okay, here we go..." Peter announced. And with fast blood pressure, you followed them.

It was a prolonged free fall and the twists in your stomach were getting painfully evident. What seemed to last a minutes was actually a second, and you had no time to land properly.

The first thing you felt was the urge to complain on the ground. Laying on your stomach, with your hair in a now disheveled bun.

Everyone turned to look at you, finally noticing you were wearing a tutu and leotard in grey and black colors.

"Lost your hoodie?" Gwen asked, being the first to start giggling, followed by the others.

"Could any of you have alerted me to prepare for this type of landing?" You asked no one in particular. Then you analyzed Gwen's question.

"MY hoodie!. Damnit, it was new!" And that's how you lost 75 dollars. But soon, you stopped thinking about the new tour merch you lost.

It was a bright earth, futuristic and agitated. And as soon as you entered the giant building, you noticed it was full of spider people.

From any size to any color, but... no one was similar to you. Well, you didn't have a suit yet, but... you couldn't feel a spider sense with anyone. Well, you could, since the place was full of spiders people, but there's an specific tingle that lets you know when you share similar abilities or DNA with other spiders.

"Surprised?" Gwen asked, walking by your side.

"Well. I'd rather say disturbed," she giggled.

"You're unlike any spider I've met," the blonde added.

"Oh please, I can't be that special." Bored or not, you were missing dinner. Your family would be worried if you didn't come back past midnight. Hopefully, your first interaction with another universe will be quick.

"Oh, but you are. That's why you're here..." said a new voice. When you turned, you were even more confused.

A pregnant spider-woman?. Could you feel any weirder?.

"Uhh- Hi...I'm y/n, this is the weirdest day of my life" She nodded laughing. Her yellow glasses were very cool, you liked her look in general.

"We know that. But let's go, Miguel needs to see you..." and officially, that was the beginning of everything.

The HQ was futuristic, wide and full of people. Everything was so weird that edged being ridiculous. Until, the group of spiders lead you to a dark room. Full of technology and chemistry stuff.

For the first time, you felt a tingle when he finally faced you; Miguel O'Hara. And to be honest, his broad and tall figure intimidated you.

He said you were a bizarre anomaly. You were the only spider person who had been bitten between universes. Meaning that you were an accident. While there must be variants of you, none of them were spiders, nobody was like you.

Unconsciously, your own canon was building up as every day passed, like a plague. Any of your actions were vital for everyone. One bad movement and everything could go to hell.

He offered you a place in the group to keep order among universes. Suspicious, but seemed honest at the same time.

"I appreciate the offer, but I have a degree to finish. And I got enrolled for summer ballet classes..." you said, ambling towards the exit. The man sighed, not ready to deal with another extroverted spider like most of his coworkers.

"No. You need to be a responsible spiderwoman and do what you're expected to do," the man said, intimidating you more as he towered you. Beside getting lost in his amazing hair, intriguing brown eyes and sharp jaw, your thoughts were running. Maybe you were being selfish. Most of the people in the room had lost a lot and you hadn't. This was the least you could do.

"You just said I'm an accident. There are no expectations from me. I can't break canon. I'm making my own, What could go wrong?..." you dared to say, avoiding looking into his brown eyes.

"You want to find out?" a little closer, and you would touch his chest. Besides, the tingle was back. Miguel also felt it, but he called it on you being angered by this new phase you would enter.

You knew he was going to be hard to deal with from now on. But deep inside, you liked the feeling he had planted on your stomach.

"No.." you admitted. Slightly afraid of losing what you had. He smiled but for less than a second.

"That's what I thought" After that, it was history.

Two months. And things were... okay.

You made a great friendship with Peter and Hobie. Something inside you was stopping you from trusting Gwen at all.

Then, Jessica was good but slightly challenging. Even Pavitr was good.

And then, there was Miguel.

Fucking Miguel O'Hara. He was dead serious every time. Still, you refused to show he could intimidate you.

Like right now, or... at any moment, whatever.

"He's going to kill you..." Lyla whispered, moving in circles around you.

"He won't if someone doesn't tell him" she frowned.

"He's going to kill us both, y/n," she almost yelled. Following you to the briefing of a new case.

"He can't kill you, Lyla. Be serious..." you stated, shrugging.

"I don't want to know..."

"Me neither. So just shush..." The room was almost empty. Only Peter, Hobie, and Jessica were inside.

The sound of the door captured everyone's attention

"Shoot" you said, looking at Miguel who sighed. After that, he stopped talking.

"You're late..." Of course, he would remark on your irresponsibility.

"I had a dentist appointment. What can I say?" he rolled his eyes and indicated you sit down.

"Sorry, I won't come late again would be fine" Miguel scolded you, and then kept giving instructions.

Earth-238, neon venom, evacuated civilians, blah blah blah. The mission would be easy, and you'd be leaving the room.

"Okay, everyone... gone, now" Jess finalizes.

"Not you, y/n..." Miguel's voice caught you off guard. When you turned around, Lyla was still whispering to him.

"Bitch..." you whispered.

"Hey, I'll wait for you," Hobie said, indicating that he would wait outside the room.

You nodded at him, smiling as he left.

"Why did you send the evidence of last week's mission to Jessica instead of me?" He asked, arms crossed.

"She's also my boss," you admitted, avoiding his judgemental brows and gaze.

"I'm in charge. She's second in command. So?..." you pinched the bridge of your nose, anxiety creeping over.

"I-.." It was useless; you had to be honest.

"Because uh-, I didn't want you to see the anomaly recording" he was right. He knew you would be afraid of his reaction. Something inside switched to be softer.

"I almost fail to save that girl. It was an accident, but... I can't control this new ability. And I want to do a good job" Your anxiety was evident. Miguel had to suppress a smile.

"You have a big responsibility on your shoulders. The power to retain or doom canon" a lecture was coming. And you wished he wore his mask because you could see his whole features. Making it prone to capture any negativity from him.

"And that's why you must be on missions with me, not Jessica. I'm training you, not her" To be honest, you were surprised.

"You make me nervous all the time. I'm afraid I'll make something stupid on any of these days, and you'll send me home. My life is so boring..." He kind of chuckled, and it made you beyond surprised.

"I thought you were working on the English degree and summer ballet classes."

"You remember it?" Could your heart beat any faster?. His eyes were deep-fixed on yours, and it was killing you in a good way.

"Please stop giving me that look. I'm gonna piss myself off from nervousness."

"Don't think too much about it. You're doing good, kid" The pat on your shoulder made you explode.

Right there, you knew it was over. You had a crush on Miguel O'Hara.

Was it possible to see everything in pink shades and heart sprinkles? That's how you were looking at every universe. You were starting your lover era.

"PETER! PETER!" You yelled, running towards the man, heading out of the cafeteria. Most spider people on the headquarters looked at you, but you didn't care.

"Woah, calm down, girl," he said with a smile.

"I need to tell you something" he couldn't describe your excitement but happily took your hand when you pushed him inside an empty conference room.

"I have a crush on Miguel," you said with an evident blush.

"YOU WHAT?" He asked yelling.

"I know, I know. But... he's so sweet to me. He said I shouldn't be nervous about him and that I was doing good. He remembers my career and that I'm doing ballet classes. Oh, and today he opened the door for me TWICE!" You explain excited, pinching your suit. It was half synthetic and half like the one from Miguel. In navy colors and silver details. You loved your suit.

"This is insane. Are you insane, y/n?. We're talking about Miguel. Our grumpy and snarky boss that gets stressed over the tiniest detail and doesn't know how to smile" You nodded, rolling your eyes.

"It's not like he's the love of my life or destiny, Peter. It's just a crush...." you tried to convince yourself.

"No, no, no. I disapprove of this. Isn't he a little older for you?" You sighed.

"Oh, c'mon. MJ is younger than you, Mr. No age gap"

"This is serious, y/n. I've known Miguel for a long time. You know what happened to him. I don't think he's emotionally ready for this" he was right. But you were confident that this crush wouldn't be a big issue.

"I know. The least I want to do is hurt him. But once again, it's just a crush, Peter," you started coming out of the room. And, like a big coincidence, Miguel was walking through the hallway with Lyla talking to him.

"Hey, is it okay if I go to your office at lunchtime?" you asked the broad man once he was walking near you. He had his mask, that if you stared too long, it was a severe and scary gaze, but he nodded once. Neither you nor Peter noticed Miguel was actually looking at you. Causing him to feel a weird pricking.

"Sure," with that, he left with the female AI giving you a bad look.

"What?" Peter asked in disbelief once again.

"See? Nothing to worry about, love," you said.

...

In your Hispanic household, dinner was very important. And the one you missed two months ago was an issue that your family hardly let go.

"Don't be so late, corazón." your grandma told you from the kitchen. You entered the room being greeted by the smell of mole and ponche.

"With this food waiting for me, I will return in a second, abuelita," she giggled as you kissed her cheek.

"I'm just going for a stretch. And maybe a flan for dinner" Your favorite part of the day was starting. So happily, you left the house. AirPods on with your favorite music blasting through them, and it felt like heaven.

Swinging from palms to buildings and watching the crowds of the traffic of LA. Until you were in the Fashion District Downtown. You stopped at your favorite rooftop to see the last minutes of the West Coast sunset.

And it was beautiful. Orange, pink, yellow, purple, blue, and black. Like a firework evaporated in the sky.

The air feels perfect for taking a long breath, and you feel thankful for having a good day.

"Hey." you nearly fell from the building, but a well-known bright red web caught you in time.

When you turned around, you had Miguel watching you.

"Miguel?. What are you doing here?" The surprise and shock were eating you alive. Maybe an emergency happened, or he would get you banned from the Spider Society. Who knows?

"Just checking on you..." lately, he had been more close to you. Giving you a hand on missions, being willing to have more extended conversations, and softer pieces of advice.

"Why?" You ask, arching a brow.

"Last week, you were a little slow." he hears you giggling, and as he walks closer, he sees you hanging your toes on the edge. He sees your hair freely fly as you laugh. Cute, he thinks.

"I was on my period. We're good now..." he thanked, wearing the mask because his cheeks were burning.

"Don't be silly, Miguel. It's... normal," you said after he stood there quietly.

"Come, seat with me.." he obeyed, establishing some distance with you, but not too much.

Then he deactivated his mask, and you confirmed that his hair always looked gorgeous.

"Your universe is interesting," he said finally.

"We are very fixed; little surprises us. And capitalism is leading us to ruin, but yes... it's interesting" Miguel wasn't expecting that answer but smiled. Only because you didn't catch it.

"You are spending too much time with Hobie," you laughed, nodding.

"Yeah, I'll take that.." This time, you noticed his smile. And you wanted to keep the moment a little longer.

"Can we talk?"

"We are talking, y/n..." he let out a brief chuckle again.

"No, I know, but, like seriously...I'm afraid. Of hurting someone in the process of creating a disaster with this thing of being an anomaly" For weeks, you tried to avoid the thoughts of insecurity. But this was a good moment because Miguel had been training you, and he was the right and worst person to talk about this.

"And it frustrates me that I don't completely understand at all what am I..." you said, covering your face, letting all the intrusive thoughts out. Because even on a good day, anxiety could sneak in.

"Being a spider person means being afraid of many things. There's never complete peace. We live alert day by day. Keep in mind that you'll constantly worry, but it's part of the job. You don't sign for it; it just hits you" his words were profound. Enough to soothe some of your panic.

"I wish I could be straight to the point like you..." Miguel was urged to touch your hand or strands of hair that brushed his forearm. But he resisted, only looking at your profile.

"No. It's good to be honest and worry too."

"And you're something bigger than an anomaly. You're special" Maybe his tone made everything sound softer.

"Well, I don't feel special," you admitted.

"I feel like an accident. Not meant to be here, but nothing else to do."

"You don't need to feel it. I just see it..." when you turned to look at him, it was his soft look that made you realize, you were falling in love with him.

As your smile grew, Miguel completely ignored any thought of fear. He was just feeling, letting his heart warm and reciprocate your smile.

"You have to come and have dinner with my family and me," you blurted excitedly, changing the subject.

"No."

"SI!."

"Por Dios. No, y/n!" He said, rolling his eyes.

"They're not annoying or nosy, I promise," you pleaded. He knew there was no problem because your family thought you were in a new program in college. That was your lie to disguise your time with him and the team. Either way, Hispanic families could be nosy when a girl arrived home with a man.

"Please, as a thank you for listening to my bullshit. Por favor, ándale. Di que si..." he couldn't say no. He didn't want to reject you.

"Está bien, pues....'

He smiled again, watching you celebrate as you started balancing between buildings. Soon he followed you, happy to feel the way he was doing, and completely ignoring what he preached to keep canon safe.

...

The shock on everyone's faces only increased the more you talked.

Pavitr, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter had their mouths open.

"And then, we went to get a flan for dinner. A kid asked for a selfie with us, and it was so silly," you narrated.

"When we arrived home, he was so sweet. Only speaking Spanish, and he told mi abuelita I was doing great in job" Peter decided it was time to cover his mouth with one hand. Soon, everyone followed, keeping their shock.

"Dad was slightly judgmental but soon changed his mind because Miguel accepted a beer from him."

"Oh, and we spent hours in my room" That was enough for Peter.

"WHAT?... EXCUSE ME?"

"NO, PETER!. Jesus... we spent hours in my room because I was explaining to him some of my analysis from literature classes" The color returned to his face.

Nodded understanding, and everyone else laughed.

"I can't believe this. I simply can't..." Pavitr confessed.

"Love can come in strange ways..."

"Who's talking of love, Pavitr?" Hobie asked playfully.

"Well.." you whispered.

"What else?" Gwen almost jumped, needing to know more. You were starting to like her more. So you started narrating the flashback.

Once again, both of you were back on a rooftop. It was almost 2:00am.

"I-, I liked this..." Miguel managed to say. Looking down at you, trying to regain his neutral and serious tone and look. But after spending hours with you, it seemed impossible.

"Me too. You were so caring, and thank you for being so comprehensive" Your excitement match your words, not that Miguel cared. But he realized you had jumped and grabbed both of his hands. And before you pulled away, he was caressing your knuckles.

"It was nothing..."

"Are you coming tomorrow?" He asked, ignoring the way he always tells everyone he doesn't like touching or any type of contact.

"I think I stopped being a half-time employee some time ago..." he nodded, smiling.

"True."

Hands were still holding. And none of you wanted to break the touch.

"Till tomorrow then..." you said, sad to break the touch but happy for everything that happened that night.

And with that, you saw Miguel opening a portal, and you left.

"NO - FUCKING - WAY!" Gwen yelled.

"Are you sure you weren't dreaming while drunk?"

"No, Peter. I can't drink yet" he snorted as if he had heard something incredible. Gwen couldn't stop looking lost, taking time to digest the information, Pavitr too, and Hobie was... being Hobie.

"Dude looks nice with her. I heard him laugh the other day," Hobie stated.

"Me too. And he canceled a meeting to go and train her," Pavitr added.

"He's, like, the last person I imagined you would say you had a date with."

"It wasn't a date..." you said.

"IT WASN'T A DATE?. Girl, he had dinner with your family, listened to your boring old books for hours, and held your hands for... five or eight minutes?"

"Okay. maybe it unconsciously turned into a date." They all nodded in agreement.

"Oh, my god... Was it a date?"

Peter sighed as he watched you laugh with Hobie. Soon went straight towards Miguel's lair. The man greeted him with a silent wave, before returning to look at all of the recordings and screens playing them.

".. y/n is very happy. Did you two have fun last night?" He asked Miguel once stepped further.

"I'm not discussing this with you," the broad man approached to say.

Peter loved you like family. He wanted you to be happy and safe.

He trusted Miguel after knowing each other. But he wasn't sure if you two had a bright future. After all, Peter saw how Miguel changed so much after losing Gabriella.

"I don't want to discuss this with you either."

"So?"

"Look, she's like family. You are like family too. I want her to be happy. And you too, man. But... I want you to think... Is it correct?" Miguel stopped looking at the screens.

"We can't lose her. And I don't want to see another era of pain and collapse" It hit him.

What was he thinking? Letting all of his feelings take over him. He couldn't be in love; it wasn't meant for him.

Your canon was unsure, delicate. And his... was doomed. He imagined having to see you gone, and he wasn't ready to find out. He wasn't ready to go through that pain again. And he didn't want to see you in pain.

"Just think... because maybe it's meant to be, but-"

"No. You're right..." Miguel accepted.

Peter grew quiet.

"After y/n leaves tonight. Call the others, except Hobie..." Peter nodded unsure, wondering what was Miguel plotting.

Miguel made a decision. Losing you was going to save both of you. Or so he thought.

...

Weird.

The cafeteria was quiet.

Then a piece of your suit ripped off.

And spider-cat was absent!!!

Then, you didn't see Miguel the day before. When you asked Lyla, she said he was swamped with his job, so you would not make him stressed. Plus, having some space after spending the night together would be great.

"Hey!" You called Hobie when he sat next to you on a bench. He was used to visiting you in your universe. He liked the food and how the people complained about something new daily.

"Something feels weird," he blurted, tilting his head.

"RIGHT?. I thought I was the only one" he nodded and sighed. That was also weird; Hobie never hesitated to spit the words out.

"What?"

"Yesterday. After you left, Peter called everyone except for me. It seemed weird that just as you left, he called everyone to get a lecture from Miguel," Another weird thing. Why you and Hobie would be excluded? Well, he rarely followed rules, but he was always included in briefings.

"Miguel stopped wasting his time with me, But a meeting without you?" Maybe it wasn't anything. Perhaps a simple meeting. There had been some occasions where you had not been present.

"Do you wanna go out and ignore why we were excluded?" you asked playfully. He nodded with a cocky smile.

"Hell yeah..." Both of you left in seconds.

Spending time with Spider-punk was always fun. Hobie made you remember things like; fuck it, just do it.

But for the first hour, you didn't find anyone. Even when the headquarters of the Spider Society were big, you thought it would have been easier.

By the evening, you find yourself eating an empanada, thinking of Miguel. Accepting you started missing him.

"Guys!.." Gwen called you and Hobie, appearing from an elevator that had opened.

"Don't ask anything yet..." you nodded to him.

"We were busy being scolded by Miguel. But there's a new mission we need to go to. And he wants us all, let's go..." Hobie and you exchanged looks, not buying Gwen's words.

You got too carried away, forming possible explanations for her weird behavior. Why you hadn't seen your friends the day before?. And why you and Hobie were excluded from the last meeting?.

When you follow Gwen, you didn't even look at Pavitr taking Hobie away.

As soon as you entered the room, Jessica, Peter, and Miguel were inside.

"Where's Hobie?" Miguel asked. You also turn confused, because he was right behind you.

"He was right here..." Gwen mumbled, looking around, making Miguel sigh tired.

He didn't look at you for the first minutes of the debriefing. The more he ignored your presence, the more your questions emerged.

"Everyone get ready... except for y/n," he announced with his neutral and cold face.

"Why?"

"You're going home."

"WHAT?" you screamed.

At the end of the day, Miguel wasn't ready for this. But he was doing his best, even if it meant lying to you.

"Your canon is changing, constantly glitching. We can't risk anything happening. I'm sending you home..." he explained like nothing.

"No, please. I'm not a danger. If it was something bad, it would've happened already" he kept looking straight at the doors, not even moving.

It hurt you that he was still unsure of you, especially after everything he said in your home.

"It's for the best."

"Can we talk... In private?" You whispered, taking his forearm. He slowly moved away, making you feel the pain grow.

"There's nothing to talk about"

"Oh really?. I think we do. What about the other day?"

"It wasn't a coincidence that you appeared after someone tried opening portals in your earth," you gasped in shock.

"I did recruit you for the sake of the Spider Society. I needed to know you were not a threat."

"You said I was special" he managed to hear you whisper. And it was tearing him.

"You are. But a potential danger too. Which is why l'm sending you home.." you shake your head, fighting the tears rapidly forming in your eyes.

"All of you knew about this?" You asked, looking at Peter, Gwen, and Jessica.

The pregnant woman bowed her head while Gwen looked like she wanted to say something but couldn't.

"We do this because we care for and want to protect you..."

"Really? This is not what friends do. All you do is lie and lie to me!" you said with a broken voice.

"I'm sorry," Miguel admitted looking down.

"GOD, STOP LYING" you yelled.

"Tell me I meant nothing to you. Or admit you might be scared of the possibility of falling in love with me..."

"There is no love in this equation. You have made all of this in your head." he broke you. You swore you heard your heart decreasing its heartbeats.

"For one minute, I thought you... felt the same, that you cared" As he stood there quietly, you started crying.

To everyone's shock, it was the first time they saw you crying. Gwen tried to reach you, but you stepped back, moving away from all of them.

At the same time, Pavitr and Hobie entered the room.

"Something weird happened. You might want to see this, boss," Pavitr announced.

"It was dope..." Hobie admitted leaning on the door frame. But stood quiet after watching you crying.

The moment turned uneasy, debating whether to go or stay with you.

"Please, let's go, and then we'll talk with tranquility about this," Peter told you. Giving a look that he wasn't happy with seeing you cry.

Slowly, you followed them. Ignoring Miguel's look.

Then you thought, What was the point of following them? If they would send you home after that?.

Anger wasn't a good feeling, but it was blinding you. All the fantastic facade they sold of being good friends. The months Miguel lied to you. He could have done it differently. But he even dared to agree to have dinner with your family.

He held your hands and made you believe there was a chance. He made you believe you weren't dangerous, that you could be in control of your fate.

So you stopped following them and turned to the lower plant of the building, deciding to that you would choose what you wanted, not what they thought it was correct.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group watched how all of the canon was held together. Until your specific web was expanded.

Your web was tiny, like a baby's. It glitched a lot, but when Miguel entered with the others, he noticed the glitch was even more aggressive than ever.

There were only two canon moments; you getting bit and joining the Spider Society. But there were new ones forming. And from the shiny dot, a new line grew.

"What the hell?" Peter asked in disbelief.

"This isn't possible..." Jess whispered.

Lyla was following your web and paying attention. Until she saw the first new canon event. You would lose your best friend, and the time was quickly coming. Gwen lowered her head, lamenting for what you would suffer, just like her.

But then, your thread started moving and growing until it was connected to another one: Miguel's.

And from that connection, a new canon event was officially established.

You and Miguel together.

"Holy sh-" Gwen almost said but couldn't finish the sentence.

"Does this mean..." Jessica started.

"She's part of your canon," Peter confirmed.

Miguel was in shock; his eyes remained on what the model displayed. Your masked figured siding his. You were really meant for him. He hadn't need to worry about it ending in disaster. Still, it didn't soothe him.

"Uh-boss? Our pretty little y/n started a countdown to return home and temporarily block the entrance to her earth," Lyla announced, appearing beside Miguel.

He turned to look at her, worried.

"What?"

"I tried stopping her, but I believe she's growing her cosmic powers?" the day couldn't get more complicated for Spider-Man 2099.

"Cosmic powers?" Peter asked, running after Miguel, who started heading towards the exit.

Lyla, crossed her arms looking at everyone starting running. She couldn't admit it to anyone. That if your issue wasn't fixed, something darker could happen.

The Al couldn't throw salt in Miguel's wound.

"Jessica, send help. Lyla, stop her," he demanded. Jessica nodded, and Lyla disappeared.

"There's no spider with cosmic powers. But y/n was a bit between universes. So maybe she has some of them or..."

"Peter shut up!. I just can't lose her!" If you were Miguel's destiny, he would do things right. And he regretted setting up all of the secret meetings and lies.

He rushed to get to you faster than anyone. He wasn't even sure the blocking earth thing worked.

Maybe he was exaggerating, but he was willing to set the alarms so everyone would try to stop him.

If he had waited a day, none of this would've happened. But he had understood once that things happened for a reason; canon.

So as fast as he was running, something inside told him it was already late.

Peter and Gwen followed close to him, ready to find you prepared to leave.

The panic finally settled when they entered the dark room, and you were already behind the colorful barrier.

"NO!. Please, y/n" You turned to hear Miguel's voice calling you.

Your look was empty, but the anger was there. He kept calling for you, but you didn't say a word.

All of you wanted was to leave. Sleep and forget you were a spiderwoman. Ease the pain of your broken heart. And accept that no matter if you were the only variant of yourself in all the universes, you were meant to choose your own destiny.

You bolted, when he had you face to face, you were gone.

Confused, you appeared on a random street in Downtown LA. Your suit was ripped, your hair was a mess, and the tears didn't seem to stop. A wave of cold air hit you, making you shiver and hug yourself.

Feeling broken and in shock, you found yourself stepping on a broken glass bottle. Your left foot instantly started bleeding, making you fall to your knees.

That's when you no longer held the tears; you just let all the sobs take over.

You shouldn't have accepted to join the Spider Society; you shouldn't have pushed your crush for Miguel.

I hate this. I hate this. God, I hate this...

With no more strength, you stood up. And tottering, you started walking towards home.

It was okay; it would be okay.

________________________

Cringe in general? Maybe… part two?

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara angst #spiderman 2099 #atsv #peter b parker #miguel o’hara imagine #accross the spiderverse #miguel o’hara

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