#father figure miguel

[l0v3morales]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗜 𝗪𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗜 𝗦𝗮𝗶𝗱.

❁𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝗚𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁𝘆 𝗠𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀, 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵, 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗲, 𝗠𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗲𝗹.

❁𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝟭𝟲𝟭𝟬 𝗠𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗠. 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿.

❁𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮

❁𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟭ೃ⁀➷https://www.tumblr.com

After helping Gwen with her arm, he can't stop thinking about you. Guilt washes over him as he realizes how hurtful and mean his words were. He had been so stressed out with his dad and Gwen being hurt he took out his anger on you, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁.

He immediately calls your phone, but no answer. He can't give up, he continues to call your phone but 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗿. He feels his stomach drop, you must be really mad at him.

He runs as fast as his feet take him to your window, he knocks on the window countless times. 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗿.

"Y/N, i'm coming in."

He lifts up your window and comes in your room, his eyes scanning your room for any search of you. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶? He feels a bad feeling in his stomach and his heart race as he notices your gone. He decides to ask Miguel where you are, since you and Miguel were so close. He opens the portal as fast as he can, rushing to find Miguel. As his eyes scan the room, he finally spots Miguel.

"Miguel!"

"Miles, what do you want? I'm really not in the mood, 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸." Miguel shakes his head in annoyance, a hint of hurt on his face as he rememberers what had happened tonight. The way you smiled and told him you loved him, 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗲𝗳𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝗺. The memory makes his stomach drop, as tears threaten to spill.

"I.. Are you crying? You never cry.."

"Miles, i'm serious. I'm really not in the mood, 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲." Miles eyes widen and he feels his heart sink to his stomach as he remembers he had told you that when you were trying to tell him something, 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗱.

"It's Y/N. I can't find her anywhere, I really messed up, she was trying to tell me something and I snapped at her because I was stressed and now I think she's upset at me. I just really need help finding her, do you know where she is by any chance?"

"𝗦𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗲."

"W-what do you mean gone? Where is she?!" He starts to panic now, his knees go week, tears pouring from his eyes. 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮?

"God, you fucked up, Miles. 𝗦𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱!"

When those words came from Miguel's mouth he felt his whole world fall apart. 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿. Not just that, he didn't get to say goodbye to you because he was being selfish. How could he push the person the one person who was always by his side away? Gwen didn't help him when he found out his dad was supposed to die, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱.

He just wanted one more chance, he'd kill to just see you once more. Maybe to at least give you one happy memory of you and him together before you died, or 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 proper goodbye. He didn't even give you that, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁, 𝗵𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗵𝗲'𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

❁𝗧𝗮𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @lovebuggyboo

[jellyfishxxi]

Spidergirl - Far From Home CH 1

Miguel O'Hara x Child!Spider!Reader

Summary: An anomaly got into Earth 199999. You and Miguel go to fix it. However neither of you are expecting to get stuck there....

My name is ______ _____.

🕷️-------🕷️

Alright, let's do this one last time. I promise.

I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for the last 3 years, I've been the one and only,

Spidergirl.

I think you know the rest.

Saved my city, saved my school (not that I wanted to.), Lost my dad, and saved the city some more.

Then this weird version of Doc Oc shows up, and this cool spider-lady with a motorcycle and this really buff spider-man show up and invite me to join this society.

Tldr: I have a new dad now.

And I'm not the only one.

🕷️---------------🕷️

It should have been business as usual. An anomaly got into another dimension, spiders get dispatched to retrieve it, business as usual, right?

Yeah, that's what I thought too.

Earth - 199999

New York City

"Kid, you know this guy?" Tony asked Peter, as they fought a version of The Green Goblin, who looked more like he belonged in ancient Greece than 2014.

"No, Mr. Stark!" Peter replied, launching the ancient greek goblin into a nearby wall. "He looks like Green Goblin, but not the one I've fought, which technically doesn't make any sense cause-"

"We get it." Clint chimed in, trying to pin the greek goblin into the wall with his arrows, only for the greek goblin to rip them out and resume attacking, flinging Peter into a wall.

Every Avenger was fighting the variant of Green Goblin, from Tony in his Iron Man suit to Hulk as... Well, himself. The Green Goblin glitched out, stopping fighting for a moment.

"What the hell..." Natasha spoke, looking at the goblin in suspicion and confusion. "J.A.R.V.I.S, gimme the rundown." Tony said, looking at the glitching goblin.

"It appears this Green Goblin is not from this universe."

J.A.R.V.I.S spoke in Tony's suit. "This thing knows how to traverse dimensions?" Tony spoke, Bewildered. Nobody else was able to get a word in before the Goblin stopped glitching. He grabbed Peter by his webs and stuck him to a building, slamming Thor and Hulk with his tail and flicking Tony, Steve, Natasha and Clint like they were nothing but bugs.

That's when the portal opened up.

The glowing, hexagonal portal appeared in the sky, surprising every Avenger. "What is that??" Thor both exclaimed and asked.

Two strands of flaming webs shot out of the portal, latching onto Green Goblin's arms. Goblin grabbed the webs and yanked them hard, only to be kicked in the face by... A kid who really couldn't be any older than 13.

As the goblin landed with a thud against the concrete, you dropped down, breathing heavily as you dusted off your costume. "Who-" Tony started to say, before another person came through the portal. He was clearly much older, and landed next to you.

"Did you see it Miguel? I was all tough and I kicked his stupid face!" You exclaimed, jumping excitedly. Miguel didn't react outwardly, but on behind his mask he was looking at you like a proud father.

"Focus, ______. Take care of the anomaly before celebrating." Miguel said to you, causing you to nod. "Right! Right." You said, focusing.

"I'll take the left arm if you take the right." Miguel spoke. You nodded, shooting towards Green Goblin's right arm and webbing it to the concrete, Miguel doing the same for the left. The two of you continued to web up Green Goblin, before finally he was completely tied up.

"Getting this guy back is gonna be a nightmare." You commented. Miguel hummed in agreement, going to open another portal back to the Spider Society HQ. But nothing happened.

"Qué..." Miguel said in confusion. "What? Open the portal already." You said, getting frustrated. You had a test tomorrow. Staying overnight in an alternate dimension was not in your plans.

"I'm trying, niña, it's not working. You do it." Miguel sounded just as frustrated as you. You tried opening a portal with your 'gizmo', but nothing happened. "It's not working for me either!" You shouted.

You looked at Miguel with a slightly scared expression. "Miguel, are we stuck here.?" You asked. Miguel sighed. "We're not stuck." He said. "LYLA, reboot the system." He spoke to the holographic AI as she popped up.

"What?" She said, teasingly. "Reboot the system." Miguel repeated. "Couldn't catch that." She said. Miguel groaned. "Reboot. The system." He repeated again, angrier.

"Ooh. Yeah, on it." She said, much to Miguel's chagrin. She appeared moments later. "Uh, something's up with the portal generation system. In fact, you and ______ can't actually do anything with your Gizmo's but make calls and check the time." LYLA spoke.

Both you and Miguel looked at her. "But... We're not gonna glitch, right?" You asked. "No, the protection against that's still running. But until they get fixed, you're stuck in Earth-199999." Miguel groaned, rolling his eyes. You looked nervous.

"Stuck? In an alternate dimension?!" You exclaimed. "I can't be stuck here, I have a test tomorrow! And if I'm not back by morning my guardians will kill me!" You began to freak out.

"Breathe, niña." Miguel spoke, kneeling down and placing a hand on your shoulder. "We'll get home."

Your moment was interrupted.

"Uh, excuse me?" Tony asked, suddenly standing in front of the two of you. That's right, there's other people here. You thought to yourself. "Who the hell are you two?"

You looked at Miguel. Miguel looked at you.

"I'm Spiderman." Miguel said.

"I'm Spidergirl." You said.

Peter pried himself off of the building, looking at you and Miguel in shock.

"More Spider-people?"

🕷️--------🕷️

TO BE CONTINUED

[gaffney]

asking for a friend but is the support in the room with us right now?

[krytus]

"he's a murderer!" "he's a monster!" he's perfect.

[alrtyhoney]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS 

(I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness and I have to sit down for a while– the feeling that I'm losing her forever.)

The rundown: That cake scene with Miles at his father’s bodega party but it’s with Miguel and his universe’s daughter. He’s late and it’s your quinceañera. Content: Father!Miguel O'hara x Daughter!Reader / Angst! (wc: 3844)

There was something oddly peculiar about your father. People would assume that he would be the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child; the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. You’d argue it wasn’t true– you were fed, you had the weight of what a fifteen year old should have, and education was proper. 

You love your papa with all of your heart, but there was no denying the fact that he would never be around often enough. You understood this when you were eight years old, and mornings would bring only a cold breakfast accompanied by a hastily scribbled note from him. He’d leave early– far too early. You tried staying up in an attempt to tell when he gets up and leaves the house, but you swear you don’t hear the door open every time. 

Then came twelve and the missed events. Miguel seemed to be missing in action when it came to certain school activities, not showing up for things that he had previously made commitments for. It became more and more frequent as you grew older– you wouldn’t hear from him for days.

He was a man dedicated to his profession, and although you felt pride in what he had achieved, there was this empty space in your heart that hadn’t been filled ever since you were eight. It was said that a child needed the presence of their parents to feel security– to feel important. You never truly understood it, not until you had to endure many nights at dinner alone and the numerous times you spent walking home with nothing but your own thoughts for company.

You had always pondered over the question of whether it was a common phenomenon that fathers seemed to love their daughters less once they had reached teenagehood– or if it was possible for fathers to unlearn being fathers. 

“Is your papa coming, bebita?” 

The faint notes of classical music filled the air as you sat on the wooden floor, stretching your sore limbs. You observed the ladies who were much older than yourself starting their exercise routines, having come in early before the group class began. You waited for Miguel to pick you up. 

– But that had been two hours ago. Your teacher finally worked up the courage to approach you, hesitantly looking for the right words to say. She wasn’t exactly pleased to be the one to let you down, but she’d seen you walk out the studio’s door alone time and time again after you told her that your father would bring you home himself.

“He said he’d come pick me up today.” You spoke, nervously twisting the ends of your skirt. Your teacher had most likely heard these words countless times before from you, but the faint ray of hope in your voice remained firm. “He promised.” You added quietly, praying that maybe it would be different this time. 

“Ay, bebita– you know how this ends. You tell me those exact words and you walk out here on your own anyway.” She slightly shook her head, her face softening with a sympathetic smile as she knelt closer to you. “Tell you what, how about I offer to give you a ride home today? I have plenty of snacks in my car that you can enjoy. You can take as many of them as you'd like.”

You took some time to consider it, letting her gently weave her fingers through the strands of curls that couldn't quite fit into a bun. Your lips pursued as you sighed softly, “What if he comes and I’m not here anymore?” You’d hate to miss the opportunity.

Of course you still had faith that he would come, having endured all the other times he had let you down. You were never one to quickly give up on people and your father was the only one you trusted the most— you’d hate to admit that his inconsistency was starting to hurt; digging a deeper wound to the already bleeding cut. 

“He’s not coming and I know you know that too.” 

She stands up, grunting slightly as she hefts herself up. You knew there was no more room for negotiation anymore when she urged you to come along. She carefully takes your backpack from off your back and drapes it over her own shoulders, “Come on sweetheart, let's get you home.” 

The silence in the car was palpable, with no one feeling the need to prod conversation. You hadn't stopped fidgeting with the hem of your bag since you got in, and you could feel your teacher's worried glances burning into you. Your mind was a jumble of emotions that kept bubbling away as they all competed for your attention. What could be his reason this time/?

She switched on the radio in an effort to lighten the tense mood, but when a melancholic tune filled played instead, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.

“Is it possible for fathers to unlove their daughters?” 

It was a question that took her completely by surprise, so much so that another uncomfortable beat of silence passed before she could respond. The stillness made you regret asking in the first place. Your legs shifted nervously, an unconscious habit which you had never noticed before.

“Of course not,” She muttered, almost inaudibly. “Fathers tend to forget is all.”

But you knew that wasn’t the case. 

While Miguel was never home, something else resided on the corners of your house– someone you have never met at all. She smiled back at you from the frame sitting atop your dad's nightstand, wearing the similar blue soccer jersey your school had. She was the picture on his wallet and the little widget on his phone. It was beyond you– the few blue ribbons hidden on the box beneath his bed; the medals, the drawings you know you’ve never drawn or given him. For all you know, the kid didn’t even go to your school. 

It wasn’t anything sinister, but in a way she felt like a ghost. A child your father mourned for all his life and you had no idea why. 

This was a physical pain in your chest; one that was peeling away the very layers of your heart until it was nothing but ugly– just how could Miguel love a child more than his own? It was ridiculous to feel like you were in competition with someone you barely knew, yet somehow, you felt like you were losing. It felt even more absurd when you considered the possibility that maybe you weren't really his child at all.

“I joined our school’s soccer team today, papa.” 

It wasn’t an ordinary occurrence for Miguel to be at the dining table for lunch. But on this Saturday noon, he was there. Sitting across from you, quietly eating his food. Finally, he paused and shifted his gaze towards you, seeming to linger on you longer than normal before looking away, cracking a grin.

“Soccer? You hate sports, mija.” He says, a bit of laughter in his voice. "What made you decide to try out? I don't recall you being the least bit interested before."

Something in his eyes becomes brighter, a sense of familiarity as he eagerly awaits your response– and the thing is, you couldn’t tell him why. Not without addressing the elephant in the room. Maybe you’d hang my medals too? Maybe you’d frame a photo of me? You know well your question reminds him of someone else. 

“No reason.” 

It was no surprise that you were terrible at it. After barely two seasons, you'd already given up. However it was surprising to see Miguel in the stands during the times that you had a game, but there wasn’t much to watch anyway— not when you’d been relegated to the bench for most of the time. All you felt was shame. 

Oddly enough, he didn't question it. He remained silent during the rides back home, his gaze distant and never once looked at you. Had you embarrassed him to an extent where he couldn’t even acknowledge you? Or have you given him the impression that you were just no better than the little girl in his pictures?

You dared not to talk about it too.

Music was your passion; the pulse, the poise and elegance of it all resonating with you deeply. Ballet was something that spoke to you particularly in ways no other art form could. You found a special joy out on stage, a feeling that grew deeper and greater each time you danced.

But like every flame that you desperately try to keep alive, Miguel had a way of snuffing it out. 

You remember it all so vividly, even though you'd much rather the memory be nothing more than a faint blur. Your very first recital and yet he wasn't anywhere to be found amongst the audience.

Your focus was a tunnel-vision, only set to finding even a glimpse of him— you had been so determined to find him that you forgot about all of your own movements. Soon, the few wrong turns had turned to missed cues; as soon as the music stopped, you made a run for it.

Your teacher had done her best to console you that day, attempting to coax a smile from you in front of the vanity mirror with its bright lights. She had wrapped her arms around you, doing anything she could to draw even the faintest curve of your lips. But you stayed slumped on your seat, feeling the weight of the unshed tears on your eyes. 

The door swung open, finally revealing Miguel; he was out of breath and sweat glistened on his forehead. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his tie was undone, a clear sign that he had run all the way here. He paused for a moment to catch his breath before walking in frantically, eyes looking for you. 

His eyes softened at the sight of you in your pretty pink tutu– then the tenderness was replaced with a feeling akin to plummeting one hundred stories down. How could he miss this? How could he let his sweet girl wait? He rushed to your side, sinking down into a kneeling position. He looked upon you with lines creasing his forehead and you already knew what was to come out of his lips.

“I’m sorry muneca, I came as fast as I could.” 

The other parents of your classmates started to barge inside the very room, their children giddy with joy and excitement, running to them with beaming smiles. You could hear their loud congratulations– voices singing sweet praises and telling how they looked outstanding on stage. The noise sounded like static in your ears, like their words were unfamiliar to you. They received bouquets of flowers, sweets– gifts for a job well done. Miguel came late and only with apologies. 

“You want pretty flowers too, mijita? We can stop by the flower shop a few blocks away from here, you can pick any bouquet you want.” His lips curved into a gentle smile, desperate to make his daughter feel better– the same daughter who wouldn't even meet his gaze. “Papa had to deal with something. I’ll be sure to go to your next recital– pinky promise.” 

“But I worked really hard for this.”

You wanted so desperately to blame him; to yell at him for every mistake that you've made on the stage. You felt ashamed, humiliated, and helpless all at once- and still, you couldn’t have the heart to be mad at him.

He looked at you apologetically, "Baby, I'm sorry I couldn't make it earlier. How about we talk about the flowers you want to buy instead? There are lots of restaurants nearby as well— you can pick whatever pleases you, just name it." He paused for a moment before continuing, gently nudging your shoulder. “I know how much this meant to you.”

If he did, why couldn’t he have come at all?

You let out a deep sigh, feeling completely ridiculous in your tutu. All of the sudden, the leotard appeared to be two sizes too small and utterly irritating; your tights seemed unbearably itchy. You looked down helplessly, wanting nothing more than to leave this situation behind. “I just want to go home. Can we just leave? Please?” You pleaded softly. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, a gesture that conveyed own sinking heart in a way words could not. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, breath hitching as he gave in to your request instead. 

“Of course.” 

After that very moment, you'd vowed to yourself never to wait in anticipation of something that may or may not come. You wouldn’t put your faith in any more of your father's promises spoken under the dead of night. It took a toll on you– your naivety had taught you better than before.

But when your fifteenth birthday drew near, you never expected he would go so far.

The locks clicked and whirred as Miguel fumbled with the keys to the front door. You could hear your Father's voice, clearly agitated as he jostled the keys back and forth in an attempt to fit them into the lock. Finally, he steps inside, eyes immediately darting to you.

“You’re not wearing your birthday dress, sweetie. Is something wrong?” He’s wearing a smile, struggling to keep the two boxes of cake upright as he locks the door from behind. The banner is lopsided and the balloons scattered all around seem small– like they’ve been there for days and were starting to deflate themselves. He kisses the top of your head once he gets close, getting a better view of what you were working on on the counter. Homework. “Did you have your friends over today? How was it? Wanna hear all about it.”

And he must have forgotten. You decided to pretend not to hear his question, continuing to jot down notes, only humming at his presence. He settles the boxes down, sitting on the stool beside you. 

“I know papa’s late, but you can still go and wear your dress. I want to take pictures– should we order pizza? Do you want something else?” He’s rambling, hurriedly searching for his tone to dial down a few numbers. Miguel turns frantic, looking at the closed signs under every nice restaurant. “Pizza should be fine, mijita– you’ve eaten dinner, right?” 

“Not hungry.” 

Miguel chuckled, dialing anyway. “Did school suck today, sweetie?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “You know what can cheer you up? Cake. You love cake.”

“I don’t like cake anymore.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel frustration boiling over inside– and you fear it wasn’t the kind you’ve grown accustomed to suppressing. He was oblivious and it was killing you, hurting you in so many ways possible. “I’m not hungry.” You repeat again.

“Don’t be like that, __. Besides, it’s still tradition.” He stands up to check the drawers, only finding worn out candles from past birthdays. He takes a lighter. “Know what’s better than a cake? Two cakes! You’ll change your mind, go and open the boxes mija,”

Miguel excitedly pressed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently forward to open the two boxes of cake. The look in his eyes was that of pure anticipation as he waited eagerly for you to do so. It almost hurt you to tell him the news— that you wanted more than to just take the blame itself. It was conflicting. 

You finally got up from the bar stool, settling on your feet in front of the counter. Taking a deep breath, you carefully opened the lid of the boxes. What greeted you had made you visibly recoil– the small flicker of hope that settled in your chest gone as quickly as it came. The cakes were crumbled and the frosting was all over the box, like it had been trampled and tossed around.

Was this all a joke? Were you a joke to him? Your shoulders trembled as you couldn't bring yourself to look away from it; the letter was still visible but amongst the cake crumbs lay written a name– Gabriella. Not happy birthday to you, but Gabi. 

You didn’t know what hurt most. Your lips quivered and all you could mutter was, “Gabi?”

His eyes widened in surprise as he quickly moved to your side to take a look at the cake himself. He swiftly closed the lids, shaking his head. “Must’ve been a mistake back at the bakery. I can–” 

And you could barely catch your breath, not when the hurt piled over one another. 

“Are the medals from her? The one’s from your bed? The trophies?” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly irritated. “What did I tell you about snooping around my things, __?”

“Is this the girl–” A ragged inhale cuts your thoughts, “on your nightstand and wallet?” You didn’t even realize you had started to cry, but when another breath had caught itself in your throat, you were inconsolable– finally letting the dam break all at once.

Miguel did nothing to console you– he didn’t know how to. He knew he had messed up royally and all he could do was helplessly watch you break down. Who knows how long you’ve kept this? 

“__, come on. It’s just a simple mistake, it’s still cake–”

“And it was my birthday!” 

“Baby, what’s the big deal?” He was shocked and understandably so. His sweet, babygirl, who was usually so quiet and docile, was talking back angrily to him– but Miguel knew better than to point fingers. This was his fault– your unbecoming was his own doing.

“You just had to be late– on my birthday!” 

“I have work, baby, you know this.” 

“That still doesn’t explain anything!” You cried out, desperation flooding your voice. “Why are you never home? Where do you go? Who is Gabriella– why do you love her more than me?” You could feel your breath catch in your throat as your voice rose and trembled with every question. Your breathing grew unsteady and your throat began to close up, not allowing anymore words to come out as much as you wanted to scream. You feared there’d be no more room for air.

And there was something about Gabriella that everytime she was brought up, Miguel would be defensive. Perhaps it was the plenty of times Lyla would reprimand him when she catches him watching the few videos of them or when Jess would pity his state. “Don’t be ridiculous, __. I made a mistake– that’s it. We don’t have to fight.” He says, grabbing a spatula. “If it bothers you so much, here,”

Miguel frustratedly spreads the lettering with the spatula, leaving smudges of red on top of perfectly white frosting, resulting in a more muddled mess. He's making a complete mess of it and you can't bear to watch any longer. Your still figure finally reaches out to grab his wrist, “Stop— stop that! What are you doing?!”  

It was no use. The cake was nothing but totally ruined now. You didn’t even have the chance to read the message. He forcefully digs the candles on both, sliding it in front of you. Your eyes stayed on the cake– you didn’t have the heart to look at him. Anger boiled up within you and without a moment's hesitation, the words leaped from your mouth, "You're not listening to me! This is not what I'm so upset about—!"

But he responds in the same loudness as yours, slamming his hands down on the cold tiles of your countertop. “Okay, champ, you got it– go for it! Say what you have to say,” A sarcastic chuckle left his lips, adding insult to the already deep wound. “What do you have to tell me so bad?”

And you didn’t think it was possible for silence to be more deafening, but as you stared each other down, all you could think of was how maybe Miguel was worse than the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child or the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. 

You were right. Fathers were capable of unloving their daughters and the way his dark eyes burned into yours was all the answer you needed. This wasn’t your papa– did you ever know him?

“My birthday was two days ago.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, doubt creasing his forehead as he looked back to the calendar hung on the fridge. His gaze resting on your birthday date, the red circle mocking him in vivid reminder— two days ago. Your birthday was two days ago. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt nothing but guilt tying his stomach in knots. 

“Mijita–” He’s quick to console you, the anger in his words disappearing immediately and turning into an apologetic one– but every time he’d try to move forward, you’d only step back. Miguel couldn’t even bear to think how you’ve celebrated on your own. How you waited for him all night in your birthday dress. He subtly shook his head, trying his best not to clog his mind yet. 

He needed to make it up to you. He couldn’t lose you too.

“My birthday– why did you have to take it?” You rubbed your eyes harshly, but the more you wiped the tears away, the more they seemed to fall. “It’s mine and I still had to wait for you to be able to sing the song. It’s my day and all I could think of was what time you might come home tonight.”

You wanted nothing more than for him to run to you with open arms, to let you cry on his shoulders– but as his silence stretched on, you mistook it as nothing but ruthless. He simply didn’t care. Miguel was too much of a wall for that. 

The look you gave him was nothing but hate– a look no parent wants to ever come across and it almost makes him stagger back. It was like what he had done was the most disgusting– most inconsolable act ever beyond repair and all he could do was watch; watch as another daughter of his slip through his fingers. He’s holding you like water and he doesn’t know how to keep you in.

You scoffed, averting your gaze. “You don’t want to talk about it? Fine by me.” You turned your back, letting out another shaky exhale. You couldn’t look at him the same– not after this.

“You make it really, really, hard to feel like a daughter.” 

And with that, you run to your room, leaving Miguel to stay rooted to where he stood. He thinks to himself– had he taken that from you too?

[simpcityy]

I'm Not Her Pt.2 (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This short One-Shot has made it into a series! Read part one please to understand the prompt better. (Linked Below)

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad for now. Other dimensional Miguel… Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up to the smell of bacon being cooked. Odd? Who is cooking if no one is home. Sitting up from your bed, you glanced at the time seeing it was 10am. Walking out of the room the smell of bacon got stronger. In front of you was your father Miguel cooking breakfast. You quickly rubbed your eyes wanting to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “Buenos días, cariño*” Miguel glances back at you hearing the creek of the floorboards. You only stood there in shock. He’s home for once and calling you with love and affection. “I…Um…good morning?” You finally replied back sitting down on the chair slowly. He placed a plate in front of you and took a seat across from you. “(Y.N) …Escucha, sé que no soy el mejor padre*.” He began. “I know I left you all on your own, but I have to man up and fix my mistakes.” He looks at you before slowly holding your hand “and I know it won’t be easy, but I’ll try my best.” He smiles before slowly releasing your hand. You only stood there stunned thinking about it. Did Lyla talk to him? Did Peter? So many thoughts were running around your head before letting out a sigh. “I …what made you have a change of heart…you know that yesterday was my- “he cuts you off, “I know it was your birthday and I’m sorry” he pulls out a box from under the table. You were so shocked about this new side of your dad that you didn’t even see the box when you sat down. “Happy Late Birthday “he smiles, sliding the box towards you. You slowly open it inside before gasping seeing the latest technology you’ve always wanted. You dug your hand till it hit the bottom and saw a ticket to your favorite concert. “How did you know I wanted this? I always begged you to let me see this singer, but you wouldn’t hear me out…I…” you are feeling so many emotions. “I told you I was going to try my best to fix this” he smiles before letting out a grunt as you tackle him into a hug “thank you! Thank you!” You chanted. Miguel only lets out a small smile rubbing your back affectionately. You let him go and walked to the top cabinet grabbing a glass to fill. “let’s have breakfast before you head to work “you smile enjoying this small moment with him. Maybe your wish did come true, to stop feeling alone. 

You walked down the halls of your high school. It was going to be your last year and you promised your friends you were going to make it a blast. Humming out a song you unlocked your locker. “Hey boo you’re in a much better mood.” Lyla appeared inside your locker snapping a selfie with you. “Glad you’re here, did you talk to my dad?” You asked her while collecting the items you’ll need on this day. “ wha? No, I didn’t. Why do you ask?” She looks at the selfie editing it. “He came home and made breakfast. He also got me tickets for the concert.” You smile enthusiastically looking at the AI. Lyla watches you “he did?” She was concerned, if she remembered correctly…Miguel was at the base this morning working but then again, he did slip out for a moment so maybe that’s where he went. Lyla only smiles “I’m so glad boo! Maybe Peter talked with him?” You nodded “I was thinking the same. Alright, I got to go Lyla.” You closed the locker going on to continue your education. Lyla stood in the pitch dark of the locker in deep thought “I’ll have to talk to Miguel” she mutters before disappearing. 

School for once was a day you enjoyed, maybe it has to do with the fact you're slowly getting your father back. You’ll have to thank Peter once you get the chance to visit the Society HQ. You start to wonder what made him realize he has a daughter here. All this thinking made you hungry, spotting your favorite empanada stand. You walked over and got in line. ‘Maybe I’ll order extra to bring home’ you thought before smiling, giving your order to the kind old lady. Once you reached home, you closed the door behind you. “Are you home?” You call out placing the bag on the table. “Ya has vuelto de la escuela*?” Miguel emerges from the kitchen door. He glances at the bag. “Y eso?” He walked over looking into the box. “ I got you some empanadas” You smile before letting it falter seeing him sniff the bag. His face of disgust was present, “I’m not hungry, you eat it.” He quickly replaces the face of disgust into a smile. Something wasn’t right here, he loved empanadas. He would never reject it. “But it’s your favorite?” You sat down and grabbed a couple for yourself. Miguel grabs a glass of water, his back turned to you. He panicked for a bit before adding on, “Yes but I think I ate too many last time that it just makes me dislike it” He walks over rubbing your head, “It will go away and I’ll go back to liking them okay?” He pressed his lips to the side of your head before sitting down next to you. “Cómo fue tu día en la escuela*?” He asked. You only nodded taking his excuse before smiling, feeling his lip on the side of your head. “ It went well!” You ate the empanada while telling him how your day went. 

Lyla stood behind Miguel watching him work away. “Hey Miguel” She appears in front of him. “Quick question” Miguel looks up at her and only grunts telling her to go on. “That was nice of you to get (Y/N) tickets to the concert” She sits on his shoulder waiting for his response. His answer only made her glitch and worried for you.

“What tickets?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Authors Note: Thank you so much! Your comments and likes made me see how this NEEDED to be a series. I'm still working on the other two projects hopefully next week I'll be able to complete the series for Location Status. So, I can focus on my other projects. Sorry for any grammar on the first part, I was using a tablet and it was all new to me. Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 66💕) Thank you for the likes and reblogs! Please reblog so others can be aware of my works! ILY 💕

Spanish Translation: (Remember some have double meaning or similar meaning) 1. “Buenos días, cariño: Good Morning Sweetie 2. Escucha, sé que no soy el mejor padre: Listen, I know I'm not the best father (Dad) 3. Ya has vuelto de la escuela: Are you back from school? 4. Y eso: And that or whats that? 5. Cómo fue tu día en la escuela: How was your day at school?

[kvthgok]

Sleepyhead | Miguel O’Hara x Teen Spider Reader (Platonic)

Warnings- none

Summary- You’ve been sleeping like crazy this past week and Miguel got pissed, finally waking you up

Side note- ofc not proofread 😭! I need more ideas RAHHHH

“Hey! Wake your ass up! Stop sleeping! You’ve been doing that all day!” Miguel exclaimed shaking the young teen.

“Huh..?Oh I…was not……sleeping…all day…” She muttered clearly still half asleep closing her eyes, falling asleep slowly but surely.

Miguel walked over to her, “Bullshit! In the meeting yesterday I saw you sleeping! On the lunch table! On my chair while reading your stupid fanfic stories!”

Immediately she furrowed her eyebrows and yawned,” You saw that?”. She honestly did not care if he saw it or not.

“I can’t believe you right now..” he mumbled turning around shaking his head. He glanced back over at her and saw that she was already sleeping again.

He groaned rolling his eyes. Miguel grabbed your ankles, dragging you from the couch in his office then proceeded to spray water at you.

"WAKE UP!"

I screamed while he was drenching me with the water. "Why are you spraying me with water!?” I yelled as I slowly started to wake up from him dragging me, and spraying me with water. I covered my eyes with my hands.

“To get your Sleepyhead ass up!” He shouted. Miguel got the broom and began whacking it against my foot. "Wake up or you are gonna get it!" Miguel said as he continued whacking my foot with the broom.

‘Your so annoying…” I groaned

He continued to wack my feet "Wake up before I whack your face!"

“Mhm sure..” I mumbled

"I'm not joking Y/n !” he prepared to strike my face with the broom. I finally gotten up, knowing that he would actually do it cause he has before to Peter.

Miguel sighed and put the broom down. "Thank God." Miguel said as he let out a sigh of relief. He then swung up back to his desk leaving me drench in water.

“Finally your actually awake. Now get ready to go on a mission with Jess in a few.” Miguel said as he got back to his desk, sitting on his chair looking at the cameras.

I'll be keeping tabs on you. If you're caught sleeping on the job, don't say I didn't warn you." Miguel threatened.

“You act like my mom…” I mumbled in an annoyed tone rolling my eyes

“What did you say?”

Sheepishly I smile while chuckling very nervously.

“Nothing…I said nothing! Okay byeeeeee Miggy !” then rushing out of his office

[whitechocolateanti]

i’ve literally never been so in love with someone’s art style before??? 😭😭😭 idk if you take art requests but i’d love to see more of miguel and robby in your style 🫶🫶

kiaz for the soul

[ali3nter-selfships]

imagine you and your familial f/o looking through old photo albums together

(if you and your familial f/o are found family instead of bio, imagine showing them baby/old photos of yourself)

'look how much you've grown!'

'c'monnn, you looked so cute!!'

:((((((

[thattiredanimator1t0mblr]

POV: miguel showing his new son(miles) to his brother gabriel(miles new uncle)

[kunikisss]

all fanfiction of every single character i ever like is smut and ON TOP OF THAT 99% of it is noncon😭😭 what is this curse

[l0v3morales]

𝗧𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗗𝗼 𝘂𝘀 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁

❁𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵, 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗲, 𝗠𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗲𝗹.

❁𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗘𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗵𝟭𝟲𝟭𝟬 𝗠𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗠. 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿.

You had found out you were going to die, you had just accepted for the sake of your universe. You just had one wish, you wanted to tell your lover Miles, goodbye. Just one last goodbye and you would be able to rest in peace.

You let out a shaky breath before calling Miles, tears threatening to fall. You had to call Miles about 3 times before he finally answered.

"Miles?"

"Y/N, please stop calling. Gwen really needs me, she really hurt her arm."

"But Miles, please just list-"

"Y/N, can you just leave me alone. Gwen's hurt, why can't you understand that?"

"Please just-"

"God Y/N, leave me alone. I'm trying to help Gwen!"

"Right.. 𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗯𝘆𝗲 𝗠𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀, 𝗜 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂."

"Yeah, talk to you later."

Except there was no later, cause this was it. He didn't even say he loved you or goodbye, but there was nothing you could do.

Less than a minute later, you spotted the villain. You already knew what was going to happen, Lyla accidentally told you. But you knew if you went against this, your universe could collapse.

𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗶𝘁, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗻. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘵? You just have one regret, you wish your last moment with Miles was happy, you wish you could've had a proper goodbye. You see blood pooling underneath you and your vision slowly going black.

Regret slowly washes over you, your world feels like it spinning. What did Gwen have that you didn't? 𝗜𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹? Now, all you want is comfort. It all hurts so much, mentally and physically.

Suddenly, you see an orange portal in front of you. You hope it's Miles, but deep down you know it's not him because 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘎𝘸𝘦𝘯. You see Miguel walk out of the portal, he must've also known this was going to happen. Miguel wasn't always the nicest, but he was always the father figure you wanted, you were the daughter he needed and 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱.

"You did well, cariño. I'm going to miss you." You see tears well up in his eyes, as he pulls you close into a hug, Suddenly, his crying turns into sobs. "I love you so much, Y/N."

"Me too, I love you, Miguel. 𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗯𝘆𝗲."

❁𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮 ೃ⁀➷https://www.tumblr.com

[wazzappp]

Apologizing for trying to rip someone to shreds by letting them examine aforementioned shred-rippers is pretty standard.

Seeing people you’ve lost in in the person you are apologizing to is not…

[movedtodykedvonte]

Something something the Interview with Josh Keaton (TSSM voice actor) implying that that Peter was so willing to go with Miguel as he was hurting and lost after losing yet another father figure that he latched onto the first stable male role model that gave justifications to his pain.

Now the idea so many spider-people, especially the ones in their teens/early twenties, would join the Spider society without challenging him cause he fills the role they just lost and they can be less afraid of losing him…

[kierancaz]

Me when a girl and her dad in media:

[simpcityy]

I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.

Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.

“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!