#is peter bit by the spider still? who's to say!

[ivvyela]

an irondad frozen au that is both not entirely thought out and incredibly thought out at the same time. buckle up. i have a lot to say about this.

the fight with thanos is much, much earlier in the timeline. tony doesn't die from the snap exactly, but he isn't the same. essentially, the stones embedded themselves in his hand. and sure it's weird, but thanos is gone and the world is safe, so it’s a small price to pay. regardless, tony’s seen first hand (no pun intended) how dangerous the stones can be, and is very cognizant of the fact that people may not find it comforting that iron man has the very stones that wiped half the population and nearly destroyed the world, so it’s decided that this new development will stay under wraps for a while.

and all tony really wants is to relax, maybe move out to a secluded cabin by a lake, but there are people who have lost their jobs, homes, family, and he feels partially responsible so, of course, stark industries helps however they can - including hiring a certain recently widowed and homeless nurse for their medbay, and offering her a place to stay while she tries to find someplace new for herself and her wide-eyed ten year old nephew, who is practically buzzing with excitement to be "living with mr. iron man stark sir!"

but the kid is smart, real smart. and tony - against his better judgement and newly bejeweled arm - takes a liking to him. with his aunt's permission, he takes him down to his lab and honestly, tony has never seen anyone so excited. one trip turns to two, then five, and before tony knows it, one peter parker has somehow wedged his way into tony's heart.

peter's full of surprises - the biggest being that once seeing the after effects of the war with thanos, peter's not scared. he's actually floored at how "awesome it is that iron man is magic now!"

so, lab nights became magic nights, too. peter was just so amazed by it, that tony felt like these stones could actually be used for good. they talked about ways the stones can be integrated into tony’s suits, how they could help so many people, how one day tony will build that cabin by the lake, and everyone will come, and they can create anything and everything.

and that was fine, really.

until peter got hurt.

now, tony's seen a lot of scary shit. but watching peter crumble to the ground unconscious and unresponsive, and a gray streak appearing in his hair where he was hit, that was definitely up there.

they rush him to strange, who is, thankfully, able to help. "help", meaning erasing all memories of the stones from peter's mind to keep him safe. they were lucky, apparently, that peter was hit in the head, rather than his heart.

tony won't risk it, though. not again. so, since that night, he's kept himself a safe distance from everyone he dared to care about - especially peter, a kid who almost died because of tony's carelessness.

peter didn't understand. but tony would rather live with peter broken hearted because of him than peter dead because of him.

but peter parker is relentlessly stubborn. and his hero shutting him out one day out of nowhere? that won't fly.

three years pass, and everyday, peter knocks on tony's door and talks to him. tony never responds (he wants to, really, he missed this kid) in hopes that one day, peter would just stop. he never does.

so, tony listens to all of it. he listens to him rant about how some kid with a stupid name keeps bugging him. he listens to him pridefully boasts about how he got a full-ride scholarship to midtown high which tony knows nothing about, and had absolutely no part in.

he listens to peter hold back tears as he tells tony how he had to bury his aunt. listen to him come to terms with how he is the one parker left, worry about where he was going to go now, quietly ask why wasn't tony there, up until he is reduced to hitched breaths and tears.

(tony sits against the door throughout all of it, wishing he could hug the kid on the other side.)

time goes on, peter stays in the tower until they can find him a family, and peter parker lives a lonely little life, wanting desperately to be wanted.

his life becomes decidedly less lonely after a certain gala to celebrate five years since tony stark saved the world with a single snap, as well as tony stark's first public appearance since. for peter, what really matters is that this marks the first time in what feels like forever that he's going to be around people that aren't pepper, rhodey, or happy. he has his first conversation with tony that lacks a door and involves actual responses, and it's awkward and weird, but peter can pretend he''s ten again, in tony's lab, and everything is okay.

he meets this man, quentin beck, who says he knew his parents, and cares about what peter has to say, and wants to adopt him. wants him. and his lonely little life seems to be growing into something full, and happy, and -

and tony says no.

which is rich, considering he does everything in his power to avoid peter. and peter, after years of being ignored, finally lets himself be angry. angry that tony shut him out - and the world out - with no reason why. angry that tony wasn't there when he had to bury may. angry that tony thinks he has a say in this, but he isn’t his dad,

and then, there’s a flash of something, a crumbling building, and tony stark, his fist glowing with infinity stones no one knew he wielded, watching guests cower in fright because of him. because he has the very things that almost destroyed the world, and he hid that.

and shit. peter knew this was his own, stupid fault.

tony disappears to god knows where, and despite many protests, peter sneaks out to find him. he doesn’t remember much from when he was younger, but he remembers a cabin and a lake. and that’s a start.

he asks beck to try his best to keep press away from the tower. he’s insistent that he will find tony, and even if tony was bothered by peter, he would never hurt him. he runs into a scary girl, mj, and her much-less-scary friend, ned, who decide to help him as long as peter can slip their resumes into the stark internship files. and, surely, you can imagine what will come next.

i could keep going, but this is probably long enough as it is. but… please. take this. write it. draw it. make something of it. ask me about it. i’ve yet to see this done and i am begging someone to take this silly irondad frozen au from my incapable hands and give it the life it deserves.

[erinwantstowrite]

my favorite thing about the catwoman au is despise how much peter seems to be pushing people away tim still tries and loves his little brother and it is so wholesome

tim is VERY determined to have peter as his family. at first it's a competition/ a pride thing, because the Bats obviously would be the first choice, but tim and selina are like "oh hell no". then it becomes a challenge to get peter to trust him the most, until tim realizes he actually really cares about peter. then it's a "oh this kid is so little brother shaped and the Bats are gonna have to cry about it." eventually, tim would die before anyone gets to hurt or gets to steal HIS little brother... and when he finds out that peter is dick's son? tim is dick's biggest fan. one can imagine how smug he's being about it all

[2dami2furious]

I get that people dislike the fandom characterization of miles g as some aggressive thug (I despise it) but sometimes I think people over-correct by saying that they are the EXACT same person. I’m sorry but no, not only does that not back up what kemp powers said about miles g being a bit “rougher around the edges” than our miles, It’s also really boring from a narrative standpoint.

What’s the point of creating the a version of your MC that came from radically different circumstances if nothing about them changes? It’s a nature vs nurture thing. Miles g is supposed to make you and Miles ask if his role as Spider-Man was destined, or if it was just some fluke that stopped him from turning out like his uncle.

[benvoliotheorphan]

If I had a nickel for every time I’ve read a comic where Peter and Logan spend years living together with a woman who was introduced in that comic for the express purpose of being Peter’s love interest, I would have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird it happened twice right?

[cherrysnax]

need to preface this by saying I looooove Felicia sm but god it’s so frustrating that when she pops up she gets to keep her personality, her depth, her everything, even in like her very few appearances but MJ has to get EVERYTHING WIPED AWAY even in the comics??? but literally the only close to faithful adaptions of her are spectacular, some of the 90s show and PART of the raimi movies and it’s only slivers!!!! And usually if mjs around Gwen doesn’t exist so we never the catalyst to her and peters bond, their shared grief that Peter can’t understand at first <\3

[ichorai]

snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst

warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)

a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!

main masterlist.

You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly. 

When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow. 

“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.

Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.

“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

A beat of silence. 

“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard. 

You took a step back. “My universe…?”

After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”

You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best. 

But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.

It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.

Right?

“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him. 

The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto. 

Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you. 

“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!” 

Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.

“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”

Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air. 

Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view. 

“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless. 

Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.

Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples. 

Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense. 

Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.

Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”

A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”

“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.” 

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal.”

With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.

“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”

You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained. 

“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.” 

There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.

You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”

Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.

If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.

“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”

The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.

“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.

“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”

“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression. 

“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”

You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!” 

His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”

“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”

With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out. 

“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”

Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”

Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.

Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”

To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.

“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence. 

You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”

The months pass by in a blur. 

You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him. 

“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier. 

“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”

You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.

“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”

With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”

The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal. 

Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.

As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip. 

“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.

Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”

Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.

Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.

But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.

Then there was you.

It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.

Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—

To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.

It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face. 

“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”

“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”

“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”

Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”

Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps. 

You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.

“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.” 

“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”

You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”

“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!” 

You blinked.

“What?”

Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.

“What?” he parroted.

“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”

“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?” 

Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”

You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.

Miguel was crazy about you?

After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).

“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”

“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.

He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”

“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”

Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”

There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.

“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited. 

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago. 

You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips. 

With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.

“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”

A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.

The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?” 

Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.

Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.

You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite. 

“Oka—mmph!” 

His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper. 

When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.

“He was right,” said Miguel.

“Who was?”

“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”

At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”

You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”

His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you. 

When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.

He was falling in love with you. 

The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.

[prancingintheshadows]

I’m really into the meta-narrative of Across the Spider-Verse. They could’ve come up with a different name for canon events, like Stable Dimension Events or some other made up nonsense, but the term canon events really paints it this as a conversation about adaptations on Spider-Man and his various off shoots. Hell, it could apply to comics and adaptations as a whole. Is it still Spider-Man if he doesn’t get Uncle Ben or some equivalent killed? Is it really Batman if he doesn’t vow to never kill? Even if it looks like Ultron, is it still Ultron if it’s origin and personality are different?

And it’s kinda the perfect subject matter to be tackled by Miles, the Spider-Man who gets to be his own Spider-Man. Look at the vast majority of the named spider people in this movie. They’re either based on existing people in Spider-Man’s story or they’re some permutation of Peter Parker. Miles isn’t another Peter nor is he a ‘what if this character was bit instead of Peter’. Miles exists purely to be the next Spider-Man after his Spider-Man died. There aren’t any expectations to play out the same story as Peter, because Peter’s story was already played out in his world. He has every right to make his own story, play by his own rules, go through adventures no other Spider has gone through. Every Peter has Uncle Ben die, but Miles’ call to action is never consistent. Ultimate comics had his mom die, Into the Spider-Verse had his uncle, and PS4 Spider-Man had his dad. Miles’ story is fluid in a way no other Spider’s is because he’s ironically not running in Peter’s shadow and established story. He’s an anomaly because every universe has runs on one Spider logic except his.

Which is also why Miguel’s such a fascinating choice as the antagonist. Because, a lot of what I can say about Miles could be said about Miguel. Traditionally, the Spider-Man of the year 2099 isn’t an alternate dimension Spider, he’s just a Spider-Man from a time after the original’s run. He is, just like Miles, the second Spider-Man who exists after Peter’s demise. And just like Miles, he doesn’t have to play by Peter’s rules, having a vastly different tone and manifestation of powers. So it’s also perfect that Miguel’s positioned against Miles specifically because he’s tried going against the flow, going against ‘canon’ and has suffered for it.

So the narrative is about two Spider-Men who can write their own story, fighting over whether or not they can deviate from the template set by the original story and if their story could survive it. Into the Spider-Verse said anyone can be Spider-Man. Across the Spider-Verse asks if Spider-Man is allowed to be anyone other than the Spider-Man.

[as-para-gus]

Miles' universe is Blank.

Right at the beginning of the movie, the lady explains that its her job to 'capture his universe', but she has no idea who this kid is, so she has nothing written.

Miles is the 'original' anomaly, who—according to Miguel—was never meant to be spiderman. It makes sense that no one quite knows what to expect.

But hold on a second, in a universe where spiderman already existed, would changing a canon event still be catastrophic when they've technically already happened?

If it is, why hasn't the universe where Miles' spider came from collapsed in on itself like Miguel claims it should? Because the spider never bit Peter Parker in that universe, I'd say that several canon events have changed, but other than chaos due to lack of a spiderman, the universe has yet to tear itself apart.

Why do they listen to Miguel anyway? Oh right, because he's experienced it the consequences of changing canon events. But in that case, wouldn't that make him the original anomaly?

It would make sense, both him and Miles have distinct powers that seperate themselves from the other spiders, like invisibility or vampire-esque teeth.

Dont let all the different versions of spiderman confuse you, they all have things in common—outside of canon events—and Miguel is an outlier in all of them.

No humor, distinct webs, and whatever the hell he injected himself with aside, Miguel has not only lost sight of what it means to be spiderman, but also managed to drag everyone down with him.

Maybe thats why Miguel makes such a good antagonist, because I dont know about you, but alot of what he explained made sense. I found myself even agreeing—greater good and all that. Sure it sucks, but thats the responsibility of Spiderman right?

But wait. When did spiderman become so cynical? As of now, Miguel is not Spiderman. Maybe he never was. I hope for Miles sake thats not true.

But back on topic. Just like that lady at the very start, Miguel also has no idea who this kid is, or how his universe is going to turn out - and thats a little scary. Especially when its possible Miles can achieve everything he wasnt able to. There are a million reasons why Miguel's univeres collaped in on itself, and I'm not inclined to take his word.

[weyirn]

HII!! I was wondering if you could do spider verse head cannons for a reader who is kind and shy but so badass during fights??? Maybe with Miguel O’Hara, Peter B Parker, Hobie, and Pavitr?? You can also include other characters if you would like 🤍🤍

Hi! I only do multiple characters for Preferences, but I'll be happy to still do this request!

Spiderverse x Male!Reader

Marvel Preferences: They React To You Being Shy But Badass

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

Miles is gentle with you and always there to provide reassuring that you're doing great. He may look out for you more than others because of how shy you are, but he knows when to step back if he thinks you got it under control. When he finds out how badass you actually are, he's definitely shocked for the most part, but he's also amazed at the same time, being almost speechless by it.

At first, Peter thought you needed just a bit more confidence and tried to help you with that, being with you very step of the way and always comforted you. But when he saw just how badass you are, he's surprised but very proud of you. He (out of exictement) asks why didn't you tell him you could do that, so amazed by you and your skill.

Hobie would encourage you to step outside of your comfort zone or to open up more. But he'll be there for you if you need back up, in case anyone's being rude to you. When he finds out just how badass you are, he nods in approval, saying that he knew you had it in you, roughly patting you on the back.

Miguel was protective of you at first, being by your side whenever he can and checking up on you. On seeing your skills and how badass you are, he's more impressed than anything. He praises you on your skill, now knowing that you're capable of handling your own battles.

(⬆️ his reaction lmao) Pavitr liked to tease you and joke around with you (not out of malicious intent, of course). He was absolutely amazed at how badass you are, asking why you kept this "secret" from him, and he even brags about you, wanting you to show everyone else your skills (only for you to probably get shy again).

Noir was protective of you, and noticing how shy and kind you were, he was willing to protect those sides of you (or whatever he calls it-). Noir thought you weren't capable of fighting, but once he was proven wrong, he's surprised, but also praised you. Now he knows that the two of you can fight together, but he makes sure to always have your back for your (extra) protection.

[thehollowwriter]

I'm ngl, I think the Spider Verse movies are the best depictions of Spider-man. They embody the very concept of Spider-man perfectly, and I believe this because of the explosive fandom reaction to them, especially the sequel.

So many people from so many backgrounds all over the world started making their own "spider sonas", their own ideas of a spider person. Sure you can just say it's a trend, but people are still doing it now. I've seen disabled Spideys, queer Spideys, Spideys from any country you can think of, Spideys with vastly different designs, aesthetics and personalities, Spideys who are deeply rooted in the creator's culture, yet who are all unquestionably Spidey.

Never before has the message of "anyone can wear the mask" been so true, and never before have so many people believed it.

People saw themselves represented on screen whether it be through the mc or side characters, they saw the limitless potential of so many different dimensions and universes, they saw Miles reject the "canon" and the idea of what Spider-man "has to" be (which is quite clearly at least partially inspired by egotistical and bigoted Spider-Man "fans" who believed there was only one Spider-man and only one way his character could be depicted and only one way his story should be told) and they understood that yes, they were included in the phrase "Anyone can wear the mask"

Spider-man was always such a successful character who everyone wanted to see for a reason. He isn't the same as many other heroes who were all adults and seemed to be in a place most viewers couldn't dream of seeing (rich, a god, a super soldier, etc).

Peter Parker starts out as just some guy, an everyday middle or lower class person who does everyday things like go to school or miss the bus or get fired. Peter was no smooth and classy ladies man, he wasn't a sports star or anything. He was an awkward and shy guy who liked "nerd" stuff.

He, in the words of MJ, "just happened to get bit." It was an accident, a spider bite. He wasn't in the military or creating a powerful suit or anything. He's some guy who got powers and decided to use them to protect people. Just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-man.

Most importantly, he was the first superhero of his kind. Before Spidey, there was no "teenage superhero." There were only adult superheroes, and teenagers only appeared as sidekicks. When Stan Lee suggested a teenage superhero, he was told it was a terrible idea, and nobody would want to see that.

Well, I'm sure all of us in 2024 where the Spider-man IP is worth over $27 billion with ten movies starring Spidey as the mc, and several more where he makes an appearance as a side character, and where Spider-Man: Across the Spider Verse set several box office records and was the sixth highest grossing film of 2023, can see how wrong that was.

Since his conception, Spider-man was a character who defied how things "should be" and took that leap of faith, and it led to greatness. Just like Miles' entire story of becoming Spider-man being completely different from what we've seen so many times before. Just like Miles defying Miguel and carving his own path, even with the threat of "breaking the canon" (which I personally think can be interpreted as a representation of the idea some people have that if you make Spidey "too different", you'll destroy him as a character)

Together, the two Spider Verse movies managed to prove that yes, anyone can wear the mask. You don't need the "right" skin colour or gender or backstory or plot points. Those are not what makes Spider-man who he is, and those are not why people fell in love with his character and concept.

What made Spider-man who he was, was his actions, his compassion, his relatatability, and how he inspired people. He's a hero whose entire appearance is covered by his suit, and yet is not doubted as a hero by those who were saved (plots where the writers want to make him suffer more exluded/hj).

So yeah. I really love the Spider Verse movies. Not just for their animation, music, story, and voice acting, but also for how they managed to embody and challenge the idea of Spider-man and potrayed just why Spidey was so loved.

(I mainly focused on Miles in this lil rant because he's the mc, but if ya'll want to discuss other characters like Gwen please comment or reblog with your thoughts, I'd love to hear them!)

[sweetimpurity]

“I don’t know why you kept running, I always catch you!” Miguel yells. He’s got you cornered in a dead end hallway on a random floor in HQ. After a long and tiring chase through HQ’s halls and vast spaces, you’re both here. It was a fight that started this. A fight about Miles and the fate of the multiverse. Where you seem to agree with Miles and want to help him, Miguel disagrees.

Peter and Jess will never understand the perpetual cycle of need and hatred you both feel towards each other. The two of you always butt heads on everything. From who’s leading what mission to the font on mission reports. Everything has to be a fight, an argument, a screaming match. It’s a miracle you haven’t quit yet, or that Miguel hasn’t thrown you out the window by now. And yet every time you storm off, he always chases after you. 

“You are so stubborn it’s exhausting!” You yell in his face, watching him stalk towards you as you’re desperately trying to catch your breath from running so fast. Leaning back against the wall, your lungs burning from the exertion. “Maybe if you’d just agree with me, just once, then we wouldn’t have to waste our time running around!” He yells, his voice booming back down the empty hallway. “Instead you have to act like the little brat you are, a little princess!” He spits with venom, trying to break you down. 

“You’re the princess! You need everyone to just do what you say all the time, you’re just… you-” You yell, stammering over your words a bit and he presses one hand to each side of your head against the wall. You don’t even notice at first, you’re so wound up, but he’s trying to intimidate you with his size. “Yeah say what you need to say, princesa, I’ll wait.” He says mockingly, watching you unable to find the proper words as you’re still simultaneously catching your breath. “Shut up!” You yell, slapping him hard across the face. 

He’s stunned for a second. It wasn’t hard enough for him to really be affected by it but he’s not just gonna let it slide “Did you just slap me?” He yells. “Yeah! I slapped you! And you deserve it!” You squirm to escape the enclosure of his body but he puts his hands on your hips to stop you from moving, his thighs on either side of yours to keep you from leaving. “Stop moving around!” He yells as you squirm, his frustration growing. “Let me go, asshole!” You slap him again, and his grip on you tightens, grabbing your wrists to stop you from doing it again. “Princesa, you’re acting crazy right now.” His voice drops an octave, his cheek growing slightly pink from your hand across it. “I’ll do it again.” You threaten, and his eyes flash with something. “Do it again.” He demands, letting go of your hands to give you the option. But you know it’s not that simple. “Do it again and see what happens.” 

Your eyes narrow, wondering what the catch is, knowing there must be one. His eyes burning holes into yours. “No.” You huff, crossing your arms defiantly. “C’mon, princesa, I’m giving you the green light, slap me again.” He says mockingly. “Stop calling me that.” You demand, scowling up at him. “Slap. Me. Again. And see what happens.” He practically growls, staring you down. You have half the mind to just do it. What would he do? The worst he can do is hit you back, right? And you’ve fought countless villains before, this shouldn’t be too different. 

The silence is heavy as the tension is between you. His eyes just daring you to do it. “Come on princess!!” He shouts. And your hand meets his red cheek for the third time. 

Smack! And it’s all happening at once, you slap him, he makes his move, smashing buttons on his watch and your holographic spider suit disappears. Leaving you completely naked. 

“Ahhh!” You scream, instantly covering up, a flush on your cheeks and goosebumps over your whole body. “The fuck is wrong with y-” And his mouth is on yours, his hands grabbing at your hair, keeping your mouth locked with his. His tongue in your mouth, his talons pricking at the back of your neck. He’s not kissing, he’s devouring, pressing you up against the wall, pressing his knee between your legs, his clothed thigh against your bare beating pussy. 

You want to yell at him more, cuss him out, punch and scream. But all you can think is “thank Jesus… finally…” 

Moans leave your throat, escaping into his mouth, his body moving to press into you more. He manages to press some more buttons, his own suit disappearing in an instant, and you feel his warm skin on yours. He’s so warm, in fact, he’s sweltering hot. You remember him giving you that suit. One of nanotech like his own. He said it was because he needed you to not be reckless and get yourself killed. He needed you to protect the multiverse and this suit offered much more protection than the old spandex. And while that was true, he also gave it to you so he could monitor your body. Like knowing when your hormones change or when you’re hurt. And like right now having total control and instant access to you and already knowing that you’ve been dripping wet for him ever since you stormed out of his office. 

“I told you… something would happen… you never listen…” He pants between suffocating kisses, moving to your neck, his teeth biting marks into your skin, sucking and kissing all your sweet spots he’s able to find in seconds. You just moan at this, hands running up his bare arms, eyes closed but you’re able to feel every sculpted muscle, the hair on his forearms, the veins bulging. “So wet, princess…” He whispers, hand moving down between your flushed thighs and playing with you, collecting your slick on his fingers and running his fingertips down your slit to where you need him most, plunging two fingers inside with no warning. 

“Ngh!” You whine at the instant stretch and slight burn. Slapping the back of his shoulder, fingers digging into his skin. He looks down at you, grinning evilly. “Fuck you…” You groan, knowing he did that on purpose. “But you’re dripping princesa, they just slide right in…” He mumbles, smiling at your pout, and his lips are back on yours, sucking at your lips and the tip of your tongue. His fingers start their rhythm, pumping in and out, curling at just the right time to hit all the perfect spots. “M-Miguel!” You gasp, head throwing back against the wall, hips rolling up into his hand. You just can’t help it. 

“Feels good?” He grins, kissing over your cheeks and biting at your jaw. Teasing you as your walls melt down. “F-fu-uck y-you…” You breathe out, withering away from his touch. Bound to become a puddle on the floor. “Good…” He hums, flicking his fingers inside, feeling for when your walls squeeze and continuing that motion the same way over and over again. His thumb presses to your clit as his fingers work inside, your beating bundle of nerves soothed and stimulated by the pad of his finger working in small controlled circles. 

Eyes closed, kissing him back sloppily, you reach down, finding his dick hard and heavy for you against his stomach, feeling its length and size in the palm of your hand. Hearing his breath hitch against your lips as you grip him, pressing your thumb to his tip. “Ugh.. turn around…” He husks, pulling back and pushing you to face the wall, your breasts pushing up against the cold metal, his hands on your hips instantly. “Haaa….” He breathes out in relief when his tip runs through your puffy folds, just dripping for him as always. But you’d never let him know that before. 

Without another word he slowly sinks in, relishing in the gasps that escape your kissed lips, his hands moving all over you, feeling all the nerves in his body exploding and tingling at once. “M-Mig- ah!” You gasp and whine, reaching behind you, grabbing onto his wrist, his fingers soon entwining with yours. One hand in yours and the other reaching around, splaying out on your stomach as he starts pushing into you, pulling out and back in again. “Haa… so warm princesa… so tight…” He groans next to your ear as he makes shallow thrusts within you, stretching you out, his tip gradually delving deep enough to hit your cervix. You whine at the slight sting, back arching and pressing your chest and face to the wall in front of you, and he plants kisses on your shoulder, moving to your neck and biting down on your skin. It all descends into madness, his hips snapping into your ass, both his hands entwining with yours, holding them behind your back. Panting like a hound and humping into you against the wall. Neither of you are able to care about any unlucky spider-people who would potentially walk down this way. 

“I-I’m gonna cummmm…. Miguel!” You whine, gasping and flushed all over, losing your mind on his big dick. “Not yet… not yet.” He scolds softly. You whimper, already feeling that ache in your tummy, the one that tells you you’re close. He keeps going, grunting and growling in your ear. “Wait wait- someone’s coming!” You whine, your spider sense suddenly alerting you to someone walking up the stairwell that leads to this hall. “No one’s coming.” He husks, his lack of spidey tingle keeping him unaware. “No no really!” You whimper, your knees buckling when his fingers come back in contact with your clit. He only believes you when his super sensitive hearing picks up on the click of the door latch at the end of the hall. Grabbing you and pushing through the door to your right. His security clearance opens the door right away and you both burst inside. A vacated office, dark and littered with old boxes and filing cabinets. He’s grabbing you, your chest pressed to his now and your fingers in his hair, kissing him deep and sloppy, your orgasm dying down the longer he’s not inside anymore. In his haste, you both bump into a filing cabinet, the metal making a loud crash and bang once it meets the floor. The box of old tech falls on the floor adding to the noise. He lifts you onto the big metal desk, shoving everything off, the smash and thud of everything just adding to the cacophony of sounds from inside this room. 

“Stop breaking everything!... fucking animal!” You yell and frown at him, smothered by his lips and his hands all over, his strength pressing you down flat on the desk. “Just hold still! Squirming all over the place!” He scolds, a smile on his face and you swear you heard him giggle. This beast of a man giggling as he mounts the desk hovering over you. You can’t help but smile and try to stop yourself from laughing. “C’mon…work with me here…” He pants, pushing his hair back and out of his face as he nestles his hips between your thighs, his big dick slipping in so deep and easy. “Ah!” You squeal. “Mmm!” He grunts. And you’re both moaning, groaning, grinding into the other, chasing that sweet release as any sense of reason flies right out the window. 

…

“Should we go check on them?” Jess sighs, glancing at Peter across the desk. The two of them waiting in Miguel’s office, patiently all this time, assuming the two of you would return at some point and you could continue with this meeting. “No, I’m sure they can handle it… they just need to work things out.” Peter says optimistically, fidgeting with a random piece of machinery that was laid out on Miguel’s desk. The two of them just fiddling their thumbs and waiting for you two to come back. 

“D’you try that new burger in the cafeteria?” Peter asks. Jess shakes her head, checking the time and crossing her arms. “It’s the Spider-Ham… burger…” Peter laughs. Looking pretty proud of himself. “Did you come up with that yourself?” She raises a brow, eyes narrowed, unimpressed. His smile fades. “No.” 

“Hm.” 

…

“Mm fuck… take it all… all that fucking cum…” He grunts in your ear, pumping his second load into you as you’re pulsing from your third orgasm. By this point you’re ass up, titties smushed on the desktop, his enormous size humping over you, the arch in your back almost painful with how hard he’s giving it to you. “Ahh-hhh…” A fluttering moaning sigh escapes you, riding out your last orgasm but he doesn’t stop and you feel the next one building up already. 

“M-Mig… mmmm…” You moan and hum, cockdrunk and soft like silly putty, malleable for his use. “You sound so pretty…” He breathes out, panting but it doesn’t stop him. “Pretty little slut…” 

His hands go in your hair again, pulling it back just so he can hear you whine again. “Mmm-ah!” You whimper and gasp, jaw falling open as he pounds into you as if you haven’t been going at this for four rounds straight. He pushes into you, in deep, toe curling pulses, his dick gliding perfectly past all the spots that have you melting. 

Squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak. The desk adds to the noise. The structure shaking with his unending, ever powerful thrusts. Squeak squeak creak creak pop! And you’re both gasping as the desk gives out from under you, one side going down as you both slide down the desktop tilting towards the floor. It all happens in a blur of seconds and as he pushes on top of you, his dick goes deeper than ever. Ripping a gasping scream from your throat. “Mm-AHH-hhhhaa!!”

He manages to catch himself by the time you both slide to the floor. The arch in your back even deeper as your lower half is elevated on the slanted desktop. But it doesn’t stop Miguel. He keeps pounding you, grabbing at your hands and pulling them back. 

“I can’t… I can’t ah!” You whine, completely overwhelmed and fucked out. Eyes rolling back as he reaches unimaginable depths. “I win…” He grins, panting and trying his best to keep fucking you with all his might. “I won, say I win.” He chuckles, his hand rubbing over your back in a stark contrasting tenderness. “I win.” You smile deliriously, knowing that’s not what he wanted to hear. His hand meets your red and raw ass cheek. “Mm! Fuck!” The gasp fills your chest but the slap makes you squeeze around him, your orgasm burning in your thighs and your stomach. “You never learn, do you?” He rasps in your ear, leaning over you, his chest pressing down to your back as his hips piston into you with undying fervor. “No…” You sigh, eyes fluttering closed and moaning sweetly as the waves wash over you, his face falling into the crook of your neck as your bodies move as one, a live grenade about to blow.

“Ohhh… Miguel!” Your moans really are music to his ears and with a few final thrusts he’s pushing deep inside. Spurting right at your cervix, pumping you full and raw for the third time as you tremble and pulse around him. Legs like jello and shaking all over. “Haa…” He sighs, arms wrapped around you as the movement eventually and finally stops. The room stilling, coming down from madness as you both come down from all that just happened. 

“Oh my god…” You sigh, sweating and worked out. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, looking around to try and move from this precarious position half propped up on the collapsed desktop. He carefully pulls out and lifts your hips to lay more comfortably flat on the floor. “Hey. You okay?” He asks again, sitting up next to you, brushing some hair out of your face as he looks over you. “Mm… yeah” You sigh, catching your breath as the aftershocks pulse through your nerves. 

He leans down, kissing your shoulder a few times, resting his head in one hand and laying beside you, looking down at you. Among the mess and disaster this room has been made into. “How’s your back?” He asks and you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. “Broken!” You whine, slapping his arm with the back of your hand. He giggles, hiding away from your gentle slaps, knowing he really pushed your limits just now. Soon he grabs your hand, pulling to his lips, kissing your palm and the backs of your knuckles. The line between loving and hating him getting thinner all the time.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Futile Devices

Miguel O'Hara x civilian f!reader

Summary: The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain. 

Word Count: 8.2k (A behemoth of a fic, I'm so sorry guys)

Warnings: FWB, language, angst, reader is totally in love with Miguel, Miguel being a bit of an ass, probably a tad toxic? SMUT, p in v (no protection), cum play, low-key breeding kink? Like super low-key. Oral (f receiving). Miguel climbing through windows. Idk why I'm obsessed with that thought lmfao I make him climb through windows every chance I get. Idiots in love. Probably a rushed ending, sorry!

Thanks to @whatthefishh for beta-reading. Partly inspired by this.

Also, this is mega ultra cliche, we all know they're gonna end up together, so just enjoy the ride! It's not the destination, it's the journey 😌 Hope you guys enjoy, and if you do, pls let me know what you think! I love reading your comments!

MDNI pls.

...

It was always a mission getting to Miguel's office.

Headquarters wasn't built to accommodate civilians, the winding pathways and corridors a danger if one wasn't too careful.

You had to be extra careful. 

You hurried toward Miguel's office, heels clicking against clean tiled floors as you dodged a fuck ton of spider people and the inescapable attention of one annoying Peter Parker.

"Come on," Peter Parker number two hundred tried his luck again, "just one date. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go." 

"No." You rolled your eyes, swatting him with the manilla folder in your hands like you would a fly. 

“Look, all I’m saying is you should give me a shot. I’m funny.”

“So is every other Peter Parker I’ve encountered.”

“I’m different.”

“I doubt it.” 

He deflated, keeping up with your quick steps. “Who doesn’t like funny guys?”

“Me.”

“Sure,” he stretched the word out, unconvinced, "so if not funny guys then what? The ones with sticks up their asses, like Miguel?" He snorted with a shake of his head. You knew it was a sort of rhetorical question but you couldn’t help swallowing thickly, your hands gripping the folder a little too tightly. 

Yeah. Something like that.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach when Peter Parker two hundred raised his brows at your silence. So maybe he did want an answer.

"Nah, there's no way. I'll try again tomorrow." He smiled, shooting a web out in some random direction and swinging off toward the floor above. 

Fuck. That was close.

You breathed a sigh of relief, loosening your fingers over the folder before quickly hurrying toward your destination. 

You pressed your watch against the sensor outside of Miguel's office, waiting for the metal door to slide open. It didn't. You tried again. Still nothing. Again. It wouldn't budge.

"Ugh, come on, Miguel!" You banged the door with a tiny fist as if that would make a difference, "open up!" 

Lyla appeared suddenly, her sprite-like form circling your head once before she faced you.

"You probably shouldn't go in there," she warned, "he's in a…mood." 

"He’s always in a mood," your hands were on your hips now, the manilla folder crinkling further in your hand, "I need to report a couple of grievances—"

"Mmmmmm, I'm sure that's the last thing he wants to hear right now, Miss HR." God you hated when they called you that. You rolled your eyes, swatting her away with the folder which did nothing, of course, and pressed your watch against the sensor. 

"That's not gonna work, honey."

"So let me in." 

"Promise to be nice?"

"To who?" You snorted, "You or Miguel?" 

"Me," Lyla grinned, adjusting her heart-shaped glasses, "forget Miguel." 

You sighed, cracking a smile, "Lyla, would you please let me into Miguel's office?" The Ai made a noise of approval, comically saluting you before granting you access.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya." She sang, disappearing from your sight. 

You sighed. Miguel's shifting moods were nothing new to you—not anymore. Back when you both worked at Alchemax, he was passive and less quick to anger. But that seemed a lifetime ago. 

Life progresses. People change.

“Mig?” You called out, peering up toward his solitary platform. You could hear the soft hisses of machinery, the yellow glow of Miguel’s holo screens illuminating the area above like a radiant star.

He didn’t answer. 

“Miguel,” you tried again, “we have some things to discuss.” You slapped the manilla folder against your hand as if he’d recognize the sound of formal complaints filed within the last week. 

The platform began to descend after a moment, and you breathed a sigh of relief as his figure came into view. His shoulders were stiff, his body rigid as he swiped through the yellow screens.

“I told Lyla not to let anyone in.” His voice was cold, frigid even. He didn’t bother to face you, his eyes pinned to his screens as he leaned forward, the muscles of his back flexing through his suit. 

You couldn’t see what he was looking at but you could hear it: the soft giggles of a little girl, the cheers of a soccer game, the chuckles of a man now broken. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard the sounds of Miguel’s past. It probably wouldn’t be the last either.

“I-uh, got some reports to share with you.” You felt foolish. Lyla was right. HR complaints were the last thing on Miguel’s mind. 

“Reports of the anomaly on Earth 9811?” Your brows pinched in irritation. He knew those weren’t the reports you had. You were fucking HR, not on active duty, let alone a spider person. 

"No, you'd have to ask Jess or Gwen about that, but you need to listen—"

“I don’t want to hear it.” He grunted. You saw his hands form fists at his sides, the same hands that’d fisted your sheets in the throes of pleasure just days ago. 

You shook your head. It was not the time for that kind of thought. 

You carefully opened the crinkled folder, pulling out the paperwork you’d printed from your antique printer to read aloud from it.

“Peter Parker of Earth 5431-02 has formally filed a complaint,” you began, your eyes scanning the black text before releasing an exasperated sigh, “he’s saying you threw a chair at him?” Miguel grunted, the holo screens shutting off at his (Lyla’s) command.

“He’s an idiot.” Miguel snapped, finally turning to face you, his sharp features shadowed by the lack of light. He regarded you carefully, red eyes tracing your figure. You’ve grown used to the way his eyes lingered over you, especially when you were under him, his body pressed against yours, but sometimes you couldn’t help but squirm under his more severe gaze.

“Well, yeah,” you reluctantly agreed with a tilt of your head, “but a chair, Miguel?”

“It’s not like it hurt him...badly.”

“That's not the point."

“The point is that I got my point across.” Miguel snorted. 

"It's the principle. You don't go around throwing fucking chairs at the people who work for you!" 

"Mhm." 

"You're their boss! What kind of behavior is that?"

"Uh-huh." 

You were about ready to strangle him but knew your fingers couldn’t even go around his throat properly. You’ve tried before, under very different circumstances. You settled for pinching the bridge of your nose, as he often did, taking a breath to calm yourself before you completely lost your shit. "Listen to me."

"I'm listening, HR."

"Ugh, look," you pointed a finger up toward him, your brows knitted in obvious irritation, "annoying or not, he's still a member of the Spider Society, therefore, he has every right—”

“—to file a grievance under any circumstance as a result of an injustice, discrimination, or harmful behavior, and is to be given the respect to which every spider person is due as a valued member of the society. I know.” Miguel finished the legal jargon for you, hopping off the platform with an ease that’d always surprised you.

He stepped into your space, his large body casting a long shadow over you as he snatched the crinkled paperwork from your hands. 

“I’ll speak with him.” He grunted. You pursed your lips, watching as his eyes scanned over the page.

"Make it right, Mig. Apologize. Formally. Or informally. It doesn’t matter— there’s nothing normal about this place anyway.” You placed your hands on your hips as you leaned forward, aware of how he was suddenly gazing down at you. “Just be nice, okay? Compensate him with, I dunno, a minor mission. He always wants to get involved, so let him.” 

Miguel rolled his eyes, heaving a great sigh while running his hand through his hair. “Fine.”

“And no more throwing chairs to make a point.”

“Uh-huh, fine, anything else?” God, you wanted to smack him. You opted for snatching back the paperwork from his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles over your skirt-clad thighs before searching for the proper page.

“Yeah," you brought a finger down on the page, "the spiders are getting bored of the cafeteria food.” That was enough for Miguel's face to pinch in displeasure.

“What’s wrong with empanadas and churros?” He scoffed, waving his hand to dismiss the complaint, “And that stupid blue burger with my face on it?” He paused, eyes squinting for a moment, “You know what? That can go. Get rid of it.”

“Fine. Do I have permission to organize a survey?”

“For food?” 

“Yes, for food. They want options.” 

“Aye, por Dios,” Miguel grunted, waving his hand again, “Fine.” 

“Fine.” 

“Anything else?” 

“Nope.” You organized the documents back into the manila folder before handing it over to him.

“You know you could just send this electronically, right?” He looked down at the folder, his eyes tracing your neat cursive in black ink.

“I’m old-fashioned.” You shrugged, turning on your heels. You heard him snort out a laugh, a tiny thing that made you smile. He has a nice laugh.

“One more thing,” Miguel called out, demandingly. You looked over your shoulder at him as he regarded you with heavy eyes.

“What is it?” 

He boarded the platform once again, the machinery coming to life and slowly elevating him back to his preferred height. He tossed the folder somewhere over the desk, to be forgotten. It was the least of his worries at that moment.

You watched Miguel ascend above you like some kind of heavenly being, the yellow light of the holo screens illuminating his tan skin till he glowed molten gold. You waited on him with bated breath, his response sinking straight to your core.

“Keep your window unlocked tonight.” 

…

He loves it when you ride him. 

His large hands were glued to your hips as you bounced on him expertly, your cunt soaking him in your sticky juices. 

Most nights began this way—with Miguel's cock buried deep in your pussy after a long day of enduring his insufferable attitude. You'd fuck the stress out of him—fuck the astronomical weight of the multiverse off his shoulders if only for a few short hours.

"Been thinking about this all day." He groaned under you, throwing his head back over your pillow when he felt your walls grip his length viciously, fighting to keep him in.

"Yeah?" You gasped, your hands firmly planted on his bare chest as you made work of your hips, rotating them in delicious circles—the way he liked—your thighs spread wide to accommodate his massive size. "W-wasn't enough to curb that a-attitude though, huh?" 

Even amid the utmost pleasure—of Miguel's length hitting a spot that had you trembling—you found the strength to taunt him, your hazy eyes catching a glimpse of the twitch in his brow. That meant trouble.

Within seconds Miguel had you on your back, his imposing body trapping you against your mattress. His cock slipped out for a moment but he had no problem finding his way back into your slippery channel, snapping his hips strategically to reach as deep as he could.

You cried out, your hands scrambling to find purchase over his shoulders, your pretty manicured nails digging into his perfectly golden skin.

"F-fuck! Miguel!"

"Wanna say that again?" He growled, his face hovering mere centimeters from yours, "Go ahead, say it again." You did nothing but whimper as he pounded into you mercilessly, his cock stretching you open. 

"That's what I thought." Miguel chuckled smugly, delighting in your little chokes and stutters, egging him to keep pounding you relentlessly. You tried speaking—tried to articulate your words to him, but you couldn't, too cock drunk to focus on anything else but his gorgeous face twisted up in pleasure and his thick cock kissing the secret place within you.

He had you coming soon after, stars exploding behind your lids as you trembled in his arms. Your cunt squeezed him just right and he came, panting in your ear as he filled you to the brim. 

His spend stained your sheets when he pulled out, and as always, he watched it dribble out from your swollen cunt with lidded eyes. He wasted no time in taking his fingers and stuffing the mess back in.

“Keep me in there.” He muttered, swiping through your puffy folds one final time before he ripped himself from you. You immediately soured, keeping your gaze on him as he quickly cleaned himself off with a cloth you left for him on your nightstand. 

You admired his figure: the ripple of his muscles as he moved, the broadness of his shoulders, the glow of his skin in the dim lighting of your bedroom. 

Miguel was gorgeous. You’ve always thought so.

His suit glitched before coming to life, covering his sculpted body in the usual blue and red you've come to know. 

“Did…you want to eat before you go?” Dinner was on the stove, cold but still good. You sat up against your headboard, more of his spend leaking out as you fiddled with your fingers over the soiled sheets. 

Miguel shook his head, sighing as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“I have to go.” He said, stepping forward, grabbing your hand, and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles. It was the only form of affection he’d allowed himself to give you. He’d never kissed you before. Probably never will. It wasn't part of the deal.

Your heart sunk, your skin searing where his lips had lingered. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Most nights ended this way—with your aching cunt full of his seed and your eyes wet with unshed tears as you watched him leave through your window, disappearing into the night.

…

A few days later, Peter B. Parker landed in your office. Quite literally. 

He plopped down on the seat in front of yours from seemingly nowhere, a messily packed diaper bag hanging loosely from his shoulder. He had his daughter snuggly pressed against his chest in her carrier, her chubby arms and legs flailing over his pink robe.

You yelped, dropping the pen in your hand, clutching your chest in freight. 

“Jesus! Where the hell did you just come from?!”

“Up there.” Peter pointed up. You followed his line of vision, noting the door to the air vent busted open, barely hanging from its hinges. “Sorry about the vent.” He offered sheepishly, taking a large bite of a slice of pizza he'd pulled from a greased-up brown paper bag. 

"You could've just taken the elevator!"

"Takes too long to get to the basement.” He said between a mouthful of pizza, “Why'd Miguel give you an office down here anyway?" 

"I'm scared of heights." You reminded him, watching Mayday struggle to release herself from her carrier prison. Peter snorted out a laugh, dropping the diaper bag on the floor while simultaneously taking another bite of his pizza.

“Doesn’t make sense to work in a place like this.”

“It was the deal I made when Miguel asked me to work for him. Chew with your mouth closed.”

“Have you tried the cafeteria pizza?" He asked suddenly, ignoring your demand and speaking with another mouth full of the greasy treat, "It's the new thing. Everyone's going crazy."

You smiled smugly. "I know. You’re welcome."

“Ah, I should've known Miss HR was behind this!” You rolled your eyes at the nickname, rummaging through your drawer before tossing him a few napkins.

“What can I do for you, Peter?” 

Mayday whined, crawling out of the carrier and over her father’s thighs. She hopped on your desk, scattering some of your paperwork. You quickly caught her before she tumbled off the edge, cooing at her before placing her in your lap. You squeezed her in your arms and she let out a scream of delight before squirming, reaching out in wonder at the different knick-knacks on your desk. 

“Right, almost forgot." Peter took the last bite of his pizza, wiping his face and fingers with the napkins you provided before his face morphed into something serious. "Is this guy bothering you?” He pulled out a yellow holo pad, one presumably given to him by Miguel, revealing a video of you and Peter Parker two hundred from the other day. 

You blinked, your eyes tracing the moving image carefully.

”Oh. Not really,” you finally said, ripping your gaze away from the screen, “Nothing I can't handle. Why?” 

“Miguel asked me to investigate the situation discreetly.” 

"Asked?"

"Well, demanded, you know Miguel," Peter shrugged, reaching down into the diaper bag and procuring a lollipop when Mayday began to whine, “he’s concerned. I figured it’d be easier to just ask you about it.” 

You frowned, grasping the sweet when he handed it over to you, pulling off the wrapper and placing it in Mayday's chubby hand, “That’s hardly discreet.”

“I didn’t wanna follow the guy around!” 

“He's making you do that?”

“‘Of course he is. Doesn't like the guy. He barely tolerates me!” 

You snorted. “Why does Miguel even care?”

"You know him better than any of us do. If anyone would know, it’s you." 

Well, that was true.

You knew Miguel before he created the Spider Society, before he was ever Spider-Man. You knew him before his addiction to Rapture, before he experienced fatherhood, before he lost Gabriella. 

Back when, to the world, he was just some guy in a white lab coat. 

But he was never just some guy to you. 

You’ve loved Miguel for years. You’d loved him in your early days at Alchemax, when he was fresh out of college and eager to begin his shaky career, back when you were hanging on to the corporation by a measly thread of an unpaid internship. You were a pair, stuck to each other like glue.

A few years later, when you both decided to take it a step further and mess around, well, that only ignited your feelings further. Miguel was an attentive lover. He knew your needs and fulfilled them, taking you to the heights of pleasure before humbling you just as smoothly with his strict rules about your agreement. 

He didn’t have time to cater to someone's feelings—didn’t have time for a romantic relationship when he had too much on his plate. But his sexual appetite demanded attention—and why not with someone he’s called a friend for years? 

You were just a friend. And that’s all you’d ever be. 

It was just sex. That's all it'd ever be.

“You okay?” Peter ripped you away from your thoughts, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You answered with a sigh, gently resting your chin over Mayday’s soft curls. “Is Miguel worried?” 

“You’re the closest thing he has to a friend, of course he’s worried about you. Those were his words, not mine.” Peter shrugged, putting his holo pad away, “so is there a cause for concern?” The thought alone almost made you smile. Almost. Instead, you scoffed, shaking your head.

“I’m usually the one that handles these situations, you know.”

“And who’s supposed to help you?”

“I don’t need help.” 

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced. “Miguel doesn't seem to think so. You sure?”

“Very.”

“Alright, I did my part!” He clapped his hands as if he’d successfully completed a mission, “Time to go, Mayday!” He stood, grabbing the babbling baby from you and placing her back in the carrier.

"She's precious." You said, gently pinching Mayday's drool-covered cheek as she teethed over her lollipop.

"Takes after her dad." Peter grinned, snatching up the diaper bag, "Listen, if you ever need any help—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get outta here, Parker." You shooed him away, quickly organizing your wrinkled paperwork together. You could still feel his eyes on you as you kept your hands busy, and when you finally looked at him he had a silly smile on his face.

"What?"

“You guys are idiots." He was still grinning.

"What?"

"Nothin'," he said, pressing a kiss to Mayday's red curls, "Just do me a favor. Don't mention any of this to Miguel, alright?" 

You crossed your arms, leaning back against your swivel chair. "Sure."

...

"So you think I need help?"

Miguel's hands immediately stilled on your hips as you stirred the boiling pasta over your electric stove. 

You didn't hear him come in, but you had a feeling he’d show up. It had been a couple of days since he’d fucked you, and there were many stressful days between then and now.

So you’d left your window unlocked just in case.

"What are you talking about?" He muttered, his fingers lightly dancing on your waist before pulling away completely.  

"Nothing." You huffed to yourself, cutting off the heat and getting on your toes to reach for the pasta strainer on the shelf above. After a second of watching you struggle, Miguel put a hand on your shoulder to stop you, reaching forward to grab it for you.

"Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’.” He finally said, observing you strain the pasta over the sink, the steam from the hot water engulfing you both in what felt like a thick cloud of tension. You peered over your shoulder at him, your eyes raking over his solid form.

“You know, Peter Parker two hundred?” You asked, witnessing his face contort from passive to extreme annoyance.

He sucked his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. He leaned back against your counter, looking so out of place in your tiny kitchen, his broad shoulders almost the entire width of your cupboard. “I told Peter to be discreet.”

“He said you’re worried about your only friend.” You continued to tease him, emphasizing the word as you lifted the lid to a pot where a homemade Pomodoro sauce was bubbling. 

“I said that?” Miguel muttered, feigning innocence, watching you take a spoon and scoop some of the red sauce for a quick taste. You could feel his gaze on you, his eyes tracing the way your tongue licked off the remnants of sauce. 

You hummed in approval before scooping up some more and turning to offer Miguel a taste. You lifted the spoon toward him, and after a moment of contemplation, he hunched forward with arms crossed over his toned chest, mouth opening slightly to allow you to press the spoon past his lips. 

His eyes fluttered as he savored the rich taste, humming his own tune of approval. 

"Is it good?" 

“Mhm.”

You beamed, eyeing how he licked his lips like a satisfied cat, his fangs protruding slightly when he ran his tongue over them. The same fangs you’ve felt over your delicate skin from time to time. 

Miguel was a biter. You didn’t mind.

Miguel grunted, using his thumb to wipe off a bit of sauce that lingered near the corner of your lips. You inhaled a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering from the heat of his touch.

"What else did he say?" He murmured, looming over you, his hand now gently cradling the back of your neck, thumb caressing your skin. 

"T-that you're worried about me?" You breathed. Miguel pulled you closer suddenly, the faintest noise of surprise escaping you. His suit always felt strange under your fingers, the digitized fabric almost slippery, like fine silk. It was ridiculous how perfect you felt wrapped up in his arms. You sometimes wished he'd show up in civilian clothes. You missed his lazy outfits when he'd throw on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats. 

You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him in anything other than his suit (and his naked form, of course). It meant he was always on the clock, devoting all his precious time to the multiverse. 

It meant that whenever he was alone with you, he considered it work.

And yet, the suit made you feel secure and safe—like nothing in the world could harm you. And there was truth to that, though the only thing harming you these days was Miguel himself. But that was your fault too.

The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain. 

You gazed at his full lips. You desperately wanted to taste them, to know how soft and warm they would feel molded against yours. If you were brave enough you might have stolen a taste, might have felt those sharp canines for yourself on your tongue.

Miguel’s thick fingers trailed into your hair, gripping the roots with just a hint of pressure, his lidded eyes taking in every part of your face: your brows, your eyes, the bridge of your nose, and your supple lips—wet and swollen from biting them so damn much.

"Maybe just a little," he finally answered, his shoulders shifting in a slight shrug. You could feel his length press against your hip, hot and throbbing, demanding attention. 

It filled you with pride knowing your proximity was enough to get him excited. It shouldn't though. It was only arousal. Basic primal instincts. 

You shouldn’t be feeling pride for any of this. You had to remind yourself of that.

You closed your eyes, willing your heartbeat to slow down just a bit. Could you really be this love-sick? So hung up on a man who was emotionally unavailable? If you hadn’t fallen before, then you knew you were plummeting now, so far gone that you’d let Miguel do anything to you.

So when he whisked you away to your bedroom, dinner long forgotten, you didn’t put up a fight.

He fucked you from behind. 

It was a tight stretch, your wet cunt fighting him as he tried pressing his swollen tip in with little luck. 

"Gotta let me in," he grunted, spreading your cheeks wide to gaze down at your twitching holes, "you're too tight. Let me in." 

"I'm trying," you panted, tears in your eyes as you buried your face into the sheets, "i-it's been a while." 

"It's okay," his large hands caressed the globes of your ass in comfort, "it's my fault. Haven't been fucking you enough, hm? S'my fault." Miguel rubbed his cock through your soaked folds a few times, the obscene noises of your sopping cunt causing him to grunt. 

"Goddamn, so fuckin' wet." He muttered before lining himself up and carefully pushing in again. You cried out, fisting the sheets when he successfully got the tip in. He groaned, the guttural sound masking your tiny mewls as he pushed on, your wet cunt coating him entirely in your sticky essence, easing his entry just a bit.

"Fuck, Miguel, it h-hurts." You whined, the stretch of him both painful and pleasurable as he bullied his way in, his girthy cock plunging through your fluttering walls. 

"Shh, I know." He rarely cooed as he did now, reassuring you with gentle noises and tender touches as he eased into you, balls deep in your core, “Look how good you’re doing for me. S’good.” A fresh wave of arousal dripped from you at his praise, your fluttering cunt allowing him to push and pull as he pleased.

He began a steady rhythm, holding your hips tightly to work you over his length, muttering to himself all the while as he watched how your creamy juices clung to his cock and covered his skin.

The pain quickly subsided into blinding pleasure. Miguel had you mewling into your mattress, your eyes rolling and drool slipping past your lips, your back impossibly arched, and your swollen cunt wetter than it’s ever been. The slapslapslap of his hips against your ass was loud in the quiet of your bedroom, your moans even louder when he skillfully hit something inside you that made you see stars every single time. 

You loved the feel of him, loved the stretch of his cock, loved how your cunt would ache for days after as if to remember him. 

“Coño,” Miguel growled, keeping a large hand on your lower back to keep you steady in your arched position, “you sound so pretty when I fuck you.” He suddenly gripped your hair, pulling you up as he curved over you, continuing to spill filth into your ears.

It was too much. 

“M-Miguel, I’m g-gonna—”

“Cum for me.” 

That was it. The dam burst within you, your eyes rolling back as you cried out, cunt spasming and gushing all over him.

“That’s it,” he muttered, sloppily thrusting into your tightening core, “good girl.”

“Miguel,” you continued to whine, grinding against him, “Fuuuck, I love you.” 

You didn’t even realize what you said until it was too late, so wrapped up in the bliss of it all that your mouth worked faster than your brain could think.

You froze when you felt him still above you. He released your hair, bringing his hand back to your hips before gripping them viciously, chasing his own release. He rammed into you faster, slamming his hips against your ass one final time before letting out a guttural groan deep from within the confines of his chest. You could only imagine how he looked: tan skin glistening, chocolate hair plastered against his brow and head tossed back in pleasure. 

Miguel said nothing as he gently removed his cock from your aching sex, letting his seed dribble out from you and soak into the sheets.

As soon as you turned around he was already in his suit, pushing a few buttons on his watch before he brought his wine-colored eyes to you. 

"I have to go."

“Mig?” You whispered his name softly, your naked body burning with embarrassment, “I-I’m sorry I—”

"I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was the same thing he always said, but it hurt twice as much. It was as if he were on autopilot, disconnected from what just happened. 

You felt your heart plummet into your stomach as you watched Miguel leave through your window with a speed he usually reserved for missions.

His spend caked your thighs. There was so much of it coming out of you, more so than usual, his cum ruining your sheets enough that you’d need to change them before bed. 

You sniffled, eyes watering, tears threatening to fall. He didn’t even kiss your hand goodbye.

You ripped yourself away from the soiled sheets, stomping over to your window as his cum leaked down your inner thighs before slamming it closed, locking it for good.

...

“You made this?” Miles exclaimed with a mouth full of spaghetti, clumsily twirling another forkful over his paper plate. You were handing out some of the spiders' leftover Pomodoro pasta from the previous night. You’d lost your appetite. It’d be a shame if you let it all go to waste.

“Yeah, eat up, there’s enough for everyone.” You scooped out more pasta from a Tupperware and onto a paper plate for Gwen. The younger girl’s eyes sparkled as she grabbed the plate, immediately slurping up a bite.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, lips covered in red sauce, “why are you working at the Spider Society when you could be a chef?”

“It’s because Miguel begged her to work here,” Miles quipped, a lone spaghetti hanging from his mouth.

“And who told you that?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Uhh,” his eyes flew over to Peter B., who was waiting patiently for his own plate of pasta to be served. You turned and narrowed your eyes at Peter, who chuckled nervously. 

“Listen,” he began, hands thrown up in surrender, “the kid got curious, okay? He was convincing, I mean, look at those eyes.” You huffed, snatching Peter’s plate and loading it up with pasta.

“You guys are annoying,” you muttered with no bite, shifting your gaze toward Hobie, who sat quietly with his legs thrown up on the table, “Hobie, fuck the government and all that, but you need to get your dirty boots off the table if you want some food.” 

Hobie sighed dramatically, letting his boots drop to the ground.

“Fine, boss lady.” 

Satisfied, you handed him a plate.

“So, let’s talk about you being a chef?” Gwen tried again, scrapping the remaining bits off her plate. 

“It’s just pasta,” you shrugged, pulling out a chair and taking a seat, “anyone can make a Pomodoro.”

“My dad can’t.”

“…why?”

“He’s Irish.”

“And a bloody cop,” Hobie interjected, twirling his pasta with a plastic fork, “hate those.”

“Here we go,” Gwen huffed, the beginnings of an argument forming. You chose to ignore them, letting Gwen, Miles, and Hobie bicker between themselves.

You squirmed in your seat, crossing your legs to cure the throbbing within. You could still feel Miguel, the stretch of his cock, and the inevitable ache that lingered afterward. You were still full of him, your cunt wet even hours later, plaguing you with the thought of never feeling him again. 

You drummed your fingers over the messy table littered with paper plates and napkins, your body hunched forward, lost in thought.

“So…” Peter began, adjusting the collar of his pink robe, “you gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to force it outta you?” You whipped your head to look at him, brows furrowed as you regarded him.

“What makes you think something’s going on?” You whispered, hoping the cafeteria was loud enough so the rest of the table wouldn’t hear.

“Something’s going on or you wouldn’t be whispering,” Peter whispered back, his blue eyes pinned to yours as he searched for answers. 

“It’s nothing.” You answered quickly, continuing to squirm in your seat, fighting to ignore your achy cunt. 

“Did you guys finally smooch?” You froze, your hands gripping the edge of the table with a force that made your knuckles go white. 

“Peter, what the fuck are you talking about?” You hissed, watching him happily eat his Pomodoro.

“You think I don’t know?” He challenged, “It might not be obvious to everyone else but I know what’s going on.” He winked at you, dabbing a napkin messily over his mouth.

Your heart was pounding, ready to beat out your chest, but you schooled your features as best you could. You swallowed thickly, crossing your arms over your chest as if to make yourself smaller. 

“Okay, fine, you know. What of it?” 

“Miguel’s being mopey.”

“Mopey?” You snorted, shaking your head, “He’s always mopey, isn’t he?”

“This is a different kind of mopey,” Peter raised a brow, “it’s actually kind of… frightening.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s got nothing to do with us, for once. Usually one of us pisses him off enough to throw things but he’s on a mission. Said he needed to clear his head. So what happened?” You sighed, shoulders sagging.

“I might have said something I wasn’t supposed to last night.”

“What?”

“We made a deal,” you explained in a whisper, “no feelings, just…you know,” you wiggled your fingers, hoping it would be enough of an explanation. Peter nodded, urging you to continue, “Well, I messed up.”

“How?”

“ItoldhimIlovehim.” You blurted out, your hands flying over your mouth. Peter blinked with a subtle tilt of his head, before a grin stretched over his lips. You groaned, now covering your eyes, “W-what is that, why are you smiling? Stop it.”

“I mean, one of you had to say it first.”

“Peter, you’re killing me here.” He rolled his eyes, inching close enough till your knees brushed against his.

“You don’t think the big guy feels the same way?”

“No!” You squeaked incredulously, “There’s no way. You should’ve seen him yesterday. He could barely look at me!” 

“You caught him off guard.”

“I know that, but he still could’ve said something. Anything.”

“He’s a guy. Guys are stupid.” You groaned, pushing your hair out of your face. You turned to look at the other spiders. You knew they’d been listening given the way they all turned away immediately.

“Someone is stupid,” you muttered to Peter, feeling dejected, “and it’s definitely not him.”

...

You took a deep breath before placing your watch over the sensor.

The door to Miguel’s office didn’t budge, not to your surprise. Lyla must have blocked the systems again.

What were you even doing there? 

You hadn’t seen Miguel in about a week. That was ample time to inform you he wanted nothing to do with you. You couldn't blame him but still, it was…unprofessional. He was your boss at the end of the day. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have started fucking the head of the Spider Society. Your weak heart wouldn’t be in shambles if you didn’t.

It was a stupid move, you knew, telling someone you love them in the throes of passion when they clearly weren’t on the same page, unprovoked or not. He probably hates you. He must. 

You’d given yourself enough time to think it through and given yourself so many pep talks before deciding a professional relationship with Miguel was for the best. No more friends with benefits. 

No more keeping your window unlocked.

You took a breath and tried again. No luck. 

Did he fire you? That couldn’t be right. You were still in the system and able to enter HQ with your keycard just fine. 

“You’re always catching him at a bad time,” Lyla sighed beside you, whipping out her tiny little holographic phone, “he didn’t even want to take a photo! Unbelievable!” The small image on her screen revealed a snarling Miguel, clearly unamused by the bunny filter plastered over his face. It was cute, even if he looked a bit terrifying baring his fangs. 

Lyla shifted to face you, hands on her little hips as she looked you up and down.

“You look niiice,” she quickly snapped a photo of you, “no cute filter needed.”

“Uhh, thanks?”

“Now it’s your turn to say something nice to me.” The Ai grinned when you rolled your eyes. 

“You look…extra yellow today, Lyla.” 

“Thank you! I’m in default mode.”

“Okay, so I’ll just come back later then?” You rushed to leave but Lyla stopped you, zapping in front of you suddenly.

“Nah, I’ll let you in.” You could hear the door to Miguel’s office opening, “Fix him.” 

“What? How am I supposed to do that?” 

Lyla shrugged, “I dunno, I just know you’re the only one that can.” She waved farewell, disappearing in a glimmer of gold. 

You groaned, dropping your head in your hands for a moment to collect your thoughts. Your palms began to sweat—they always did when you were nervous—so you quickly wiped them over your black pencil skirt before facing the office entryway. 

It was dark as usual, the only light illuminating the area was Miguel’s bright yellow screens. They hung above him as he sat slouched in his chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His head turned lazily to regard you. 

“I heard you’ve been mopey.” You began, cracking a smile when he snorted. He shook his head, watching you slowly approach him like one would a wounded animal.  He didn’t confirm nor deny the accusation.

“What do you need?” 

“To talk to you.” You said, finding the courage to step into his space, leaning back against his desk and blocking one of the yellow screens.

“About?” 

“Us.” Miguel hummed, running a hand through his messy hair. He sat up in his chair but said nothing else, allowing you the space to speak freely.

“I-I wanted to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable,” you began to fumble with your fingers, unable to keep eye contact with him for very long, “I know that what I said was…crossing the line—”

“Did you mean it?” He asked abruptly, the question forcing your eyes away from your fingernails and toward his chiseled face. He looked exhausted, eyes heavy but swimming with curiosity.

“W-well, I mean, it was a moment of—”

“Did you mean it?” He repeated, his tone stern as he awaited a proper answer from you. You bit your lip, slowly nodding your head.

“Yeah. I did. Still do.” 

The silence that stretched wasn’t very long but it felt like an eternity. Miguel only stared at you, his jaw tight as he sat forward, his elbows resting on his toned thighs.

You wished you could read his thoughts, take a peek at what ran through his mind. He was always so good at hiding his emotions, never showing an ounce of what he felt. That wasn’t always the case but after Gabriella, he didn’t show much of anything. 

“I think it’s best we don’t see each other anymore,” you finally concluded, crossing your arms, “we should stop.”

“What?” Miguel’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean stop?” He was towering over you in a matter of seconds, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. Your heart was pounding, your hands flying to grip the edge of his desk.

“Mig, we can’t keep doing this.”

“Yes, we can.” He caged you in his arms, bringing his face just a few inches away from yours. He never had much of a problem with eye contact, but you did. You chose to look at his collarbones and the large swoop of his shoulders. It was intimidating and arousing all at once and you weren’t getting anywhere with this speech, were you?

“We can’t. Not when we’re not on the same page.” 

“Who says we’re not?” You felt his fingers graze the side of your face, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. You turned away, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the familiar prick of tears behind your lids.

“Stop playing with me.” You said, pushing him away with little luck. Miguel shifted slightly at your touch, watching you rub at your eyes. 

“I’m not.” 

“Then why have you not said anything for a week?” You hissed, the frustration threatening to boil over, “You’ve left me agonizing over this for a week, Miguel!” You wiped furiously at your cheeks, catching a few stray tears. “I’m such an idiot.” 

Miguel grabbed your wrists in his hands, yanking them away from your face. His concerned eyes met your wet ones, a frown tugging at his lips.

“Stop.” He demanded, taking your flushed face in his hands and wiping the wet streaks away with his thumbs. “Don’t say that about yourself.” You glared, cheeks puffed and swollen from the pressure of fighting away tears.

“Fine,” you snapped, ignoring the way he stroked your cheeks, “you’re the fucking idiot.” 

“I am,” Miguel agreed with a sigh, refusing to release you, “I didn’t know what to say. Thought you might have been lying—don’t look at me like that.” 

“You’re pissing me off.”

“I know, beba.” The endearment startled you for a moment, your glossy eyes peering up at him as a rush of excitement settled in your stomach. He’d never used endearing words with you before. It had you stumped for a second before you remembered yourself, your brows furrowing in irritation

“Why would you think I was lying? Mig, I’ve loved you for years, you buffoon!” Miguel loomed closer with every word before he kissed you, silencing you effectively. Your eyes fluttered, your lips unresponsive at first until he coaxed you into a gentle rhythm. 

Kissing Miguel was so much softer than you imagined. 

You thought he’d be all tongue and teeth, desperate to devour his victim. His kisses were syrupy and deliberate, steady and reassuring. He was taking his time learning the shape of your lips, the plumpness, how perfect they felt molded against his. 

“I’m sorry, beba,” he said between kisses, letting you snake your arms around his neck to pull him closer, “perdoname. I’m an idiot.” You hummed in agreement, continuing to assault his lips sweetly. You couldn’t stop kissing him if you wanted to, sneaking your tongue past the seam of his lips to taste more of him. 

He growled, tightening his hold on you, allowing you to taste at your leisure. He tasted fresh, like the spearmint gum he always had on hand.

“Perdoname,” he repeated, wanting so desperately for you to forgive his transgressions, slotting himself between your legs.

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” you teased, feeling the familiar ache of arousal blooming in your core, “show me how sorry you are.” Another growl ripped from him, animalistic and provoked. He wasted no time, pushing you down so that your back was flat against his desk and your legs were wrapped around his hips. 

He pressed a button beside you and suddenly, the platform began to elevate. 

“Mig,” you sat up in a panic, but Miguel only pushed you back down, lifting your skirt up till it pooled over your waist, “w-why are we moving up?”

“Privacy,” he grunted, spreading your legs, running his thumb over the soaked patch of your panties. Your hands scrambled to find purchase on something over the desk, your heart hammering in your chest as the ceiling seemed to loom closer.

“Y-you know I’m scared of heights!” You squealed when the platform came to a jutting halt, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even want to think about how high up you were.

“It’s okay,” Miguel purred, gently rubbing your clit through the fabric, “you’re safe, you’re with me, beba, no tengas miedo.” 

“M-Mig, please,” you didn’t even know what you were begging for at that point, you just needed something, and whatever that was, he gave to you. You felt him push aside your panties, and you finally spared him a glance, almost choking at the sight of him mesmerized by the sweetness between your legs.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, slipping a finger through your folds, “you dripping all over my desk.”

“Y-yeah?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed, easily ripping your panties apart before getting on his knees, “smell s’good.” He muttered, licking a stripe up with his fat tongue, scooping whatever mess you made. He moaned at the taste before completely diving in, eyes closed and large hands keeping your trembling thighs spread for him.

As always, you were a whimpering mess for him, mewling with every precise stroke of his tongue. It was the first time he’d done something like this, and god, it was nothing you could have ever dreamed of.  

He moaned into your cunt, the gentle vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. You trembled and whined with every loud slurp of his mouth over your clit, his tongue swiping over your precious bud before working his way down to dip inside your hole. 

“Fuck, Miguel,” your hands flew to his hair, your fingers weaving through the thick strands to keep his head in place. He skillfully nipped and licked the surface, lifting his face away slightly to spit into your cunt, watching it run through your puffy folds with lidded eyes before devouring you again.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he groaned, sucking your clit between his lips.

You threw your head back, letting out the prettiest moans for him. You forgot about everything, about where you were and how high up you were from the ground. You couldn’t care less as long as Miguel continued to eat from you like a madman. 

You could feel the tension in your abdomen, the clear sign that you were close. Miguel continued to drink from you, slurping obscenely at the fresh arousal that dripped into his mouth.

“Close?” He asked, giving you kitten licks, his hands squeezing your thighs encouragingly. 

“God y-yes, so close.” You could feel him smiling against your folds before starting up a vicious rhythm again with his eyes closed. 

With a loud cry, you came into his waiting mouth, your back arching and body withering over the table from the overstimulation. Miguel licked and sucked every inch of you, determined to catch every drop of your orgasm. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned, releasing your grip from his hair and draping an arm over your eyes. Miguel stood, removing your arm and leaning over your fatigued body. He looked down at you with intense red eyes, his mouth and chin completely covered in your slick. You bit your lip when a smile curved at the edges of his lips before he swooped down to kiss you.

You moaned, completely aroused all over again from your own musky taste on his lips. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, allowing you a proper taste. 

“Perdoname.” He begged again over your lips before gently brushing the tip of his nose against yours. You giggled, pushing him away slightly so that you could sit up on your elbows. 

“Mm, I don’t know,” you teased, “you’re gonna have to try again.” Miguel shook his head, tapping a button on his watch, and allowing his suit to vanish. You gasped at his sudden nakedness, your eyes glued to his throbbing erection. Miguel grinned, fangs bared, tapping his cock over your sensitive cunt.

You closed your eyes as he immediately pushed in, moaning as he worked himself into your tight channel. 

In your euphoric state, you barely registered him grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles, whispering over your skin. Your ears picked up a few words, some naughty and some sweet, but your heart fluttered and your chest tightened when you caught the last two words before he began pounding into you.

“Te amo.”

[cherryredstars]

Hi!! This is my first time requesting so I’m a bit nervous but can you write where Miguel gets Jealous when He sees reader talking to other spider people? Like he isn’t insecure he knows reader won’t cheat but he can’t help but feel jealous. fluff and maybe some smut??

Sorry if it’s confusing but have a good day or night!

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff, Sexual Touching, Marking

Summary: Jealousy, Jealousy 

A/N: So sorry your first request took so long :((

Word Count: 725 (Not Edited)

He knows it’s irrational.

There isn’t really a threat, not to him. He knows you’re loyal and has seen it every time you stood by him. He knows he treats you well and that you absolutely adore him. But he can’t help that ugly ball from burning in his stomach. It burns bright and hot, warming his skin and causing his muscles to vibrate. His hands clenched shut, no matter how many times he flexes them. To hide them and to keep the unease still in his body, he crosses his arms over his chest.

With his advanced hearing, he can catch snippets of the conversation despite being at the entrance of the cafeteria. It made his skin twitch, and he huffed as he straightened himself from his leaning position. The spider was droning on and on, catching words like gorgeous, deserves the best, date, fancy, breathtaking. Miguel had to roll his shoulders back from the hunched position they were starting to take. 

After your order was placed on the counter- the only reason he left his office in the first place was because you were starting to get hungry-  you had waved goodbye to the Spider, making your merry way back to him. The jealousy in his stomach started to die down as you approached, a wide smile on your face. You stopped right in front of him, proudly showing off the two pastry bags in your hand and the cup in the other. 

“Look! I got you an empanada!” The way your chest had puffed out like a proud puppy expecting praise was endearing, and he smiled the tiniest bit. 

After mumbling out a quiet thank you, he placed a hand to the small of your back, guiding you out of the cafeteria. You had begun to mumble as you walked with him, occasionally cutting off to say hi to a few people who passed. Miguel listened absentmindedly, nodding along to what you would say. You had begun to quiet down when the two of you reached his office, walking onto his platform. His hands hovered around your body, prepared to catch you if you were to fall while getting up. 

As the platform began to rise you perked up again. “Oh, I was talking to Peter earlier an-”

You yelped as Miguel grabbed you, pulling you in front of him. Your breath faltered as he buried his face into your neck. His teeth scraped against the tender skin, making you feel slightly dizzy. Your hands tightened around the things in your hand, the lid of your cup making a soft pop as it detached from the cup’s rim. A small whine left your mouth as Miguel teeth slightly punctured your skin, and tilted your head so he could have more room. 

He hummed as his teeth left your skin, putting his head in place. He lapped against the mark, making your body shiver. “Don’t like when y’talk about other men.”

The words were a mumble, and you couldn’t fully process them as Miguel’s hand traveled down and cupped your clothed sex. You let out a sharp gasp as he began to grind his palm over you. You can feel your arousal dripping from your body, and you slouched into Miguel’s shoulder to muffle your noises. Miguel cooed down at you softly, smelling the sexual pleasure escaping your skin. He continued to like the bite mark, adding hickeys to accompany it. 

You couldn't help yourself from grinding into his hand, whining into his neck as your body softened into him. It didn’t take long for your release to build up in your stomach, and you panted heavily against his skin as you began to lose yourself. You let out a dragged mewl as you came, a flush covering your cheeks. Miguel pulled away from you slightly, just enough to see the dazed look in your eyes. 

He chuckled, massaging your cheek to try to coax you out of your haze. You blinked a few times before the glaze in your eyes cleared, looking up at him. There’s his baby. You cleared your throat, looking down at the things in your hands and surprised to find that they’re still in tact. You looked back up at Miguel, mouth dry and forcing yourself to take a sip of your drink. 

“Um, anyways… Peter-671 proposed to MJ.”

Join Cherry’s Discord Server

[chaoticladyfire]

Things I screamed about in ATSV (spoilers)

-Got to rewatch the film so I’m just going to add the colours changing to warmer tones when Gwen hugs her father. Not even ten minutes in and I was already crying.

-Realised that we missed the Gwen-Vulture fight BUT got to see Jessica Drew enter the scene like a bad ass in her bad ass bike and hearing the audience collectively say ‘me too’ when Gwen asked if Jessica could adopt her. 

-Screaming OSCAR ISAAC when Miguel spoke

-Lyla. Just Lyla.

- ‘Do you say anything other than no?’ ‘No-YES!’ more of miguel and jessica pls

-The Spot’s introduction. I didn’t see any promotional stuff, teasers or even trailers before watching this film so I had no idea who or what the The Spot was which was great because he really went from villain of the week to villain of the movie. And they clearly had a great time choreographing the fight scenes with him

-Miles’ heating up the beef patty while the spot and the convenience store man argue

-Miles patting the spot’s with a ‘good cow’ text

-Gwen and Miles both having to deepen their voices to avoid being recognised by their respective cop dads

-Miles saying that he can get two cakes when the counsellor says you can’t have your cake and eat it too and then bringing two cakes for his father’s party and neither of them saying what he wanted to convey. 

-Rio and Jeff scolding an annoyed miles but instantly smiling when a relative hugs them what an universal experience 

-Gwen teasing Miles for drawing her in his notebook almost obsessively but also breaking the biggest rule to spend time with him knowing the consequences. 

-As they went to talk, my friend leaned over and said ‘yeah I bet they will talk’ and when they only talked he groaned very loudly at which point I had to remind him Miles was only 15 

-Watching Jeff talk to Spiderman about his son not knowing his son is spiderman

-The DJ increasing the volume when Miles’ parents started scolding him in the middle of the party (the real mvp of the movie actually) 

-JK Simmons cameo that no one seems to be talking about??? Embarrassingly enough I had to literally scream into my friend’s ear for most of the people to realise it was indeed JK Simmons

-Just the entire Mumbattan scene. It was so exciting to see my city be represented like that, still a bit cliched in my opinion but not like Slumdog so obviously they have updated their views. Everything from the traffic gag to Pav’s rant about chai tea had the theatre howling. Also the detail of the thought boxes (?) and sounds being written in Hindi 

-Screaming DANIEL KALUUYA

-My friend and I are huge fans of the UK punk scene (her for the ideologies and myself for the music and fashion) so Hobie was a dream come true. He was already super cool with his guitar and mohawk costume but when he revealed his face it was just so amazing

-Gayatri is every indian’s dream girl with her modern shirt-flannel and jeans combo mixed with bangles and piercings I really wish we get to see more of her in the next movie. Anyway there was a lot of wolf-whistling and hooting for her and Pav

-Also Pavitr literally means pure I don’t know if they did that on purpose or not but I love it

-His pet name being Pav cured my soul

-’This is the most emotional I have seen him’ and Captain Singh has no emotions at all

-I want to see how they came up with so many spider designs because each was so unique and immediately endearing. My friend who is also a big dinosaur fan screamed DINOSAUR 

-Kind of obsessed with how detailed Ben Reilly’s arms are they did not need to go that hard with it

-Tom Holland’s Spider-Man being referred to as ‘the little nerd’ by Miguel

-When everyone was making puns about the Spot my friend leaned over and said ‘i wonder which hole the spot prefers’ it is a miracle we are still friends actually

-The Donald Grover cameo!!!

-Peter B Parker having a cute little baby with the love of his life is what he deserves

-Miguel O Hara is one step away from becoming a Batman-Spiderman 

-Hobie’s admiration for Mayday being the avatar of chaos Spider-baby

-Screaming ANDY SAMBERG

-I think they saw the appreciation for the art style in the previous film and then trebled it for this film and I cannot thank them enough for it

-Peter complaining about how Miguel breaks the Spiderman tradition of being funny and witty and Miguel being the first anomaly 

-Every scene with the Spot is very unnerving because as I said, you watch him transform from this joker to a literal void of vengeance and it is every bit of terrifying

-Miguel is a man suffering from the destruction of an entire universe because of his selfish actions and forcing that anomaly narrative on a fifteen year old boy who became a spiderman on accident and doesn’t want his father to die because of that. Unlike the Spot, who isn’t even human anymore, Miguel is drowning in grief and guilt and trying to ignore it by holding the weight of the spider-verse on his shoulder. I hated him so much for making a boy go through that but then I just couldn’t in the end. 

-Andrew Garfield and Tobey Maguire cameo!!! Hopefully we’ll get a fun Tom Holland one too in the next movie.

-’Let me guess, he died?’ being a therapist for Spider Men must be a fairly boring job after a few patients.

-I just loved the absolute of wrongness of the scene where Miles returns ‘home’. The rain and darkness. I didn’t really think about Rio asking Miles what happened to his hair because I thought she was referring to the rain (although of course she wouldn’t ask him why his hair was wet when it was obviously raining outside) but realised something was wrong when he didn’t know about comic con but she did because in the first film there’s a joke about Peter B Parker explaining the concept to Miles. 

- This movie is not good for my father related issues

-The glaring neon welcome sign when the gang end up in Earth 42

-How did Uncle Aaron get even scarier? 

-Miles being the Prowler is honestly a great twist I saw it coming but still felt the shock of the reveal

-Prowler Miles having an accented voice meaning his father probably died when he was young and he only had his mom growing up

-Can’t wait for the original spider team to return for the third film seeing as they brought back Spider-Man Noir and Spider Ham and Peni Parker

-Screaming WHAT when the ‘to be continued’ appeared because that cliffhanger is absolutely destructive. All that adrenaline and excitement just popped. I’m still oscillating between being impressed and being disappointed. 

I probably skipped over a lot of other scenes because these were the most memorable and I only watched the film once (unfortunate) but I can’t wait for the movie to hit streaming services and watch it again and again for all the other details I missed. Ill probably keep adding things as I remember

[mcu-coworkers]

You?

Summary: What you thought was your love story ended up being one cruel summer.

Word Count: 1k+

warnings: None really other than angry Miguel :I

A/n: amidst writing a part 3 for another story I got inspired by doctor strange and gave it a bit of a twist. Hope you guys like it!xx

Parts: One^ Two three Four

You had never seen Miguel so angry before.

Sure he was always short with everyone and never smiled other than to laugh at someone.

But when he did laugh, even if it was at someone, your heart couldn't help but skip a beat.

There were days when he’d call you into his office and ask you to update him on the spiders and the sectors they were handling and sometimes, if he was in a good enough mood, he’d ask about you.

Despite the mood swings, and his constant frown you wanted nothing more than to stand by his side and be there for all of it.

Peter B. though you were crazy for having feelings towards the coldest spider in the spider society but all things considered, he was probably right.

Only a crazy person would fall head over heels for someone who gave no sign of reciprocating feelings.

You had hope you’d get through one day.

That day definitely was not today.

You’d been caught up on a mission for the past couple of hours so you never responded to any of the comms. When you arrived back at HQ you were horrified by the mess.

You tried to ring Miguel but no luck, then you tried Jess, Ben, Gwen, shit, even Hobbie and still nothing.

Finally you were about to try Peter B. when he popped up behind you.

“You’re not gonna reach them, and honestly,  I   don’t think you want to.” he said as he held a very active May Day in his arms.

“What happened here?” you asked your voice barely above a whisper.

“ I  ‘d tell you but maybe it's better if you just watch.” he said, pulling up all the camera footage.

And holy shit.

Suddenly you felt a lot worse about ignoring those comms from Miguel.

“Shit.” you cursed under your breath.

“Yeah, listen  I   should get going. Miguel will be back soon and  I  ‘m the last person he’ll want to see.” he said, opening a portal.

“Bye Pete, take care of yourself okay?” You said with a soft smile as he slowly disappeared into the portal.

Looking back at the paused footage you didn't know what to think.

You understood Miles, but you also understood Miguel.

But still, seeing the way he handled this and how out of hand he got made chills run down your spine.

You didn’t even want to think what would’ve happened had he gotten through the shield of the go home machine.

Lost in thought you never heard Miguel enter the room.

“Where the hell have you been?” you heard him yell as he walked up to you.

You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of his tone.

“On a mission you know that Miguel” you said trying to not anger him further.

“ I   called you to come back, so where the fuck were you.” he wasnt letting up.

“Miguel  I  got the guy  I  -” you tried but he cut you off.

“When  I   say come back that means come back am  I   fucking clear?” he said, looking down at you.

You’d never felt so intimidated by him before, not even on the first day after being recruited.

“Yes sir.” was all you could manage to say.

Finally he stepped back and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in.

“Lyla pull up the records of the go home machine and tell me where it sent him.” He said turning his back to you.

You could hear the distress in his voice so you thought of a way to help.

Walking up to him with caution you put a hand on his shoulder, “Miguel, Maybe you need to take a step  back let someone else handle it.” you suggested.

“Yeah? Who?You? Thats a fucking joke. You could barely handle a stupid villain, you’ll never catch this kid.” he snarled, shrugging your arm off.

Taken back by his statement you felt a heavy weight on your chest.

“Miguel-” you tried but again you were cut off.

“What are you gonna say some inspirational shit? Tell me you're here to help?hm?” he asked, turning back to you.

“Yes, Miguel, I am here for you, always. But this, this is mania. Some things can't be fixed by yourself. ” You said the weight on your chest felt heavier.

When he stayed quiet you took it as a sign to keep going.

“Maybe this is a sign to consider stopping, look at how much of a toll this is taking on you.” you urged the man was grasping for straws at this point if they didn't find Miles he’d be lost.

“This is my life's work, there is no me without the multiverse.” he exclaimed, turning away from you.

“There are so many things that give your life meaning, that could give your life meaning.” you suggested, realizing what that last part sounded like you felt your face heat up.

Shit.

He stopped his pacing and turned to you, “Like what? You?”

Suddenly you felt your world come crashing down. You had nothing left to lose.

“Yeah. Me.” you said barely above a whisper.

“You care so much don’t you? You think  I   want your pity? That  I  need you?”he said aggressively.

“ I   have never pitied you.”you snapped back.

“Good, because  I   don't need it. And  I   don't need you.” and with that he turned back around leaning on his desk.

You had nothing left for him. Or the spider society.

“Goodbye, Miguel.” was all you said before you walked out of the room and opened the portal to go home, for good.

“That was a bit rough for someone you like, don't you think?” Lyla asked, watching Miguel as he looked over to the door you walked out of.

He decided to focus on one thing at a time, Miles now you later.

He knew you’d come back and when you did, he’d fix it.

If there was something he could fix in this fucked up world it was the mistakes he made with you.

“The files Lyla.” he said changing the subject.

Sighing, Lyla gave him what he wanted and left.

She didn't have the heart to tell him that you left your watch and your suit at HQ.

[liliacamethyst]

just curious if there's an extra angsty alternative drabbles because i love ur work ! like in a scenario where sun-spider isn't able to care for herself because the pregnancy is taking a toll on her or she got extremely ill OR EVEN GETTING EXTREMELY injured during a mission and lets say the gang is too caught up with spider society business to check on her, how would miguel react then?

ill leave the actual state of sun-spider in your hands 🤭

A LETTER FROM THE SUN

Thank you so much for your request, I really liked your idea- So here's an extra , extra ANGSTY (trigger warning) alternative universe Drabble. I got a little bit carried away I really hope you still enjoy it 💚:

You can barely see through the spots dancing before your eyes as you stagger back to your apartment on Earth 586. You don't remember the walk home from the doctor's office but somehow, you made it back. The weight of the doctor's words still echo in your ears, "The childbirth... It's too dangerous. You won't survive."

It's not that you're not scared; you are, very much so. But more than that, you're filled with a fierce determination - for your child and for the world you've sworn to protect. And so, you put your mask, pull on your suit, and step into the battle once more, fighting harder than you ever have before.

But behind the brave facade, you're struggling. You're tired, your energy gone by the demands of your pregnancy and your duty as Spider-Sun. You're having to deal with the pains and discomforts that come with carrying a child, exacerbated by the unrelenting strain of your battles.

You retreat to Earth 586, hoping to find some solace and respite in your own universe. But instead, your responsibilities there seem to compound your exhaustion. There are still threats to confront, villains to vanquish, innocents to save. You're fighting two wars at the same time - one for your world, and one for your life.

The spider society is oblivious to your struggles. They are wrapped up in their own missions and agendas, too absorbed in saving the multiverse to notice your quiet battle for survival. The absence of concern from the team feels like a sting, a bitter pill to swallow, yet you say nothing, because you understand. So you hide your pain behind your bright smile and valiant spirit, because that's what you do best.

Still, as the days pass, your condition worsens. Your constant fatigue, the severe sickness and the frequent fainting spells- all signs that are hard to ignore. You're well aware that your body is pushing its limits but the love you have for your child growing inside of you keeps you from giving up. You've always fought against the odds, and you're not about to stop now - not when the stakes are that. Higher than they've ever been before.

You're fighting for two now, and that's all the motivation you need to keep going. You're ready to make the ultimate sacrifice for your child. And you'll face it with all the courage and determination that make you Spider-Sun.

-

Miguel, Gwen, Peter B, and Jess are on a mission in your Earth - Earth 586. It's been months since they've seen you, and Gwen and Peter are buzzing with excitement. Even Miguel, who maintains his stoic façade as always, has a glint in his eyes that hints at anticipation and excitement of the prospect of seeing his love again.

As they land, Gwen looks around, taking in the familiar surroundings of your world. "I can't believe it's been so long," she remarks, a hint of guilt in her voice. "We got so caught up in everything..."

Peter B chimes in, "Yeah, Sunny is gonna give us an earful for sure. I'm surprised she hasn't come to give us a welcome smack yet." His playful remark hangs in the air and everybody silently agrees.

They're here to deal with an anomaly, a Lizard-like opponent. Yet, as the fight breaks out, Peter can't help but wonder why you aren't here. This is your world, your neighborhood, your people. You're always there, ready to protect and serve. So where are you?

"Miguel!" Peter B shouts over the sounds of the fight. "Why isn't Sunny here? This is her world! Where is she?"

The fight ends sucessfully, with Jess instructed by Miguel to take the captive Lizard back to HQ. There's a tension in Miguel's voice, a sharpness that wasn't there before. He announces that he's going to look for you, his eyes flicking briefly towards the city, towards your home. “You guys go back and secure the ugly lizard. I will look where the hell Sunny is hiding.”

"We're coming with you," Gwen says firmly, Peter B nodding in agreement beside her. There's no room for argument in her voice. Miguel gives them a curt nod and so they swinf through Nea Yorkey searcing for their sun.

Gwen’s search for you leads her to knock on the doors of the neighbors in your building. Most people either shake their heads, claiming they haven't seen you, or slam the door in her face without a word. Gwen's worry deepens with each door she knocks on.

Finally, she finds a woman with a bunch of children screaming in the background. The woman looks frazzled, but she stops and listens to Gwen's questions. "Haven't seen her in days," the woman says, wiping her hands on her apron. "There was an ambulance here the other day, took her away. Ain't seen no light in her place since then."

Gwen feels as if the air has been sucked out of her lungs. She thanks the woman and rushes off to find Miguel and Peter B. Her words spill out in a rush, detailing what she found out. "Miguel," she gasps out. "Peter. Ambulance. Sunny's place."

Miguel's face goes deathly pale, and before Gwen or Peter B can react, he swings into the air, shooting webs and flying through the city with a speed and urgency that leaves them behind.

Gwen and Peter B look at each other and immediately follow, but Miguel is like a man possessed, a force of nature.

He reaches the hospital, and without a second thought, he barges through the doors. His heart is pounding in his chest, his breaths are short and ragged.

The reception desk nurses look up in surprise as Miguel, still in his Spider-Man 2099 suit, demands to know if you are in the hospital. There is a desperation as he speaks your name.

After a tense conversation with the hospital staff and almost being escorted out, Miguel is finally given the room number.

The world seems to stand still  around Miguel as he enters the room, only to find it empty. The nurse, busy tidying the space and remaking the bed, looks up in surprise at the sudden intrusion.

He's staring at the closed door when a nurse brushes past him, mumbling an apology. A sudden rush of fear and confusion go through him as he turns to see the empty hospital bed. His heart feels as if it's been ripped out from his chest. The room spins around him. Where are you?

"Excuse me, are you Miguel O'Hara?" A voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he turns to see another nurse, her face kind but weary. He can only nod, words failing him at the moment.

"Mr. O'Hara, she's not here anymore. She... she's not with us," the nurse says gently, her eyes filled with sympathy. She hands him an envelope. "She asked me to give this to you if you ever came looking for her."

"I am sorry," she adds quietly, before turning to leave. "I'll be right back with little Gabe."

Miguel doesnt register her words. His entire world feels as though it's come crashing down around him. He sinks onto the nearby chair, clutching the envelope tightly, his eyes staring blankly at it. He's too numb to even attempt to open it or even move.

Gwen and Peter B burst into the room then, worry clearly visible on their faces. "Miguel, what's going on?" Gwen asks urgently, rushing to his side. Peter B follows her but Miguel barely hears them, his blood rushing in his ears.

The world is blurry around him, sounds are muffled and distant. The room is empty, and you are not there. ‘No es real’ and ‘por favor vuelve a mi mi sol’ are the only things he can mumble over and over again tirelessly. The reality of it feels like a crushing weight on his chest and all he can do is sit there, holding onto the last piece of you he has left. 

Dear Miguel,

If you're reading this, then I am no longer in this world. 

I just wanted to let you know that it’s not your fault and no you couldn’t have saved me. I know how you are, Miguel. You always have been the man who would try to save the world single-handedly, even if it meant sacrificing yourself in the process. But this wasn't on you. This was my choice, my decision and I stand by it. I knew the risks and I am sorry I hurt you.

But here's the thing, I have no regrets. Our child...our Gabriel, he's my most cherished gift to you, Miguel. And I know you, with your awkward, nerdy charm and those terrible dad jokes you think are hilarious, will be an amazing father. You were born to be a dad - it's like your destiny. And guess what? This is your second chance to be the best dad you were always supposed to be.

I know you will protect our baby with every fiber of your being. That's just who you are. My last wish is that you give Gabriel the life he deserves. Raise him, love him, be there for him. That's all I want, Miguel.

And if you ever miss me, just look up to the sky, and I'll be there. Even if you can't see me, know that I'm probably hiding behind a cloud, always watching over and protecting you and our Gabriel.

P.S. Please let Gwen, Peter, Jess, Hobie, Miles, Pav and the rest of the squad know how thankful I am for them. They’ve been family, and I know they will rock as godparents.

Forever shining for you, 

Tu sol

The door opens again, and the nurse walks in, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. A baby. A newborn.

As soon as Miguel held the newborn,his son, securely in his arms, he makes a silent promise to you, wherever you are, that he will honor your last wish. He will be the father Gabriel deserves and he will make sure that your sacrifice and love will never be forgotten.

After all, how could anyone possibly forget about the sun?