#miguel my dearest

[pearlsinmyhair]

.;. ✮⋆˙self ships

inspired by the lovely @messylustt. let’s do this~

spiderverse — pearl + hobie

little miss perfect meets punk rocker

now playing : magic by mannywellz

first impressions gone wrong, hesitation, he fell first, she fell harder, stolen rings even when they don’t fit, neck kisses, tracing a fingertip down the spine, mornings in bed without a care for the world, sharing headphones, thumbing through vinyl together, live music, leaning down to kiss her while she’s in the crowd, mumbled adoration, tugging forward by the belt or collar.

“ my muse ” “ luv ” “ baby ” — hobie.

spiderverse — pearl + miguel

soft soul meets heart of stone

now playing : melting by kali uchis

slooowwwburn, stubbornness, lips pressed to the back of hands, whispered ‘good mornings’ while it’s still dark outside, reminding each other to eat, dragging miguel to bed, hair twirled between fingers, slow passion, thunderstorms at night safe with each other, ‘did you get home?’ texts, cooking together, spanish whispered into the back of her neck, hands creeping under fabric to rest against warm bare skin.

“ sweetheart ” “ chaparrita ” “ angel ” — miguel.

[intoxicated-chan]

Miguel O'Hara x f!reader smut request

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

Tell Me How U Feel

✿ฺ Paring ➳�� Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

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

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

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 430

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

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You should’ve bought a better frame.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

[suguru-getos]

“i have scars in my hands from touching certain people” — cult leader! geto x monkey! F->reader

genre: fluff, angst, comfort, budding building relationships between sugu and the reader. taunting, trauma. it’s a mix of everything really. (mentions of gore & killings, mentions of locking up the reader, suguru has caged her basically but he’s very suguru-like about it :3)

the lunch was so eerie, quiet, but so unlike the geto estate’s normal day to day. suguru was sitting eating quietly at the head’s chair, to his right side was mimiko, nanako to the left, manami, miguel, larue and a few others he proudly calls family seated. the farthest from him was you. and somehow the nearest — for you sat right in front of him at the other leader chair. you’re not one to talk anyways, despite the silence being deadly.

suguru found you a few months ago, when his temper got the better off of him on an italy trip with his dearest precious angelic girls. your friends were taking a seat right behind, the dinner place otherwise secluded. maybe it was how loud you all were, or perhaps, how disrespectful your friends was when the waiter asked her to tone it down a little upon suguru’s urgency. he was here for some peace and quiet. it was liberating as is in his head to tolerate monkeys around, breathing, heart beating against their chests & living… he couldn’t help but kill everyone.

the sound of bodies trampled by something you can’t see, some screams— you were luckily in the rest room & you didn’t dare come out. suguru knew better though, he knew you were here. his eyes had lingered a little too long when you came inside this place anyway. he gets up, eyes clinging together in his usual smile, headpatting nanako. “i will check if there are others.” the girls wished their geto sama wasn’t so temperamental all the time. but whenever suguru was amongst monkeys, it seemed like the infinite, ocean-like patience he harbors fades & evaporates from within him. she sighs, watching suguru walk towards the entrance of the restroom. a few more screams… “happy birthday to me.” she scoffs, looking down.

when it came down to you, a terrified little girl leaning against the restroom corner of one of the stalls, eyes closed, ears covered, he knew he might just make an exception. maybe it was to show mimiko & nanako that he didn’t kill them all & he is working on his actions… maybe he just knew you’d have nowhere to go, all your companions & friends were dead. he purses his lips, eyes blearing hard in annoyance. "get up." you still remember the command that ran through your skin. you get up, trying not to cry at the man, big and looming, a feet taller than you, his face smeared in blood. "please don't kill me. i wouldn't say anything..." you manage to croak, voice hoarse at the panic it brings you.

"i wouldn't. shut up." he seethes, a warning pretty clear the way your shoulders slump and you quiver. you don't want to make sure you die right here.

...the rest is history, suguru took you to the room in italy, the girls just mingled with you within a few days. then, he took you to japan. you had work, you had a life, but you didn't want to say anything after you saw your friends lifeless. you hated geto suguru, but your silence was all you could possibly do.

it's been a few months to this now, eventually, you're at a stage where things have changed. your family thinks you have 'moved in' with your boyfriend, you had obviously resigned from work and on being asked to serve your notice or pay fine, suguru slapped the fine on their faces. you just exist in this estate when geto sama is on his meetings, when the girls spend time learning, when miguel and larue are on missions... sometimes you take out time out of your already free day to write. but there's nothing else to your routine except being suguru's monkey pet.

you are traversing through your thoughts, and suguru clears his throat to snap you back to reality. "y/n. you didn't answer the question asked." oh shit- "sorry- what question?" "do you like the food?" he asks, observant, and ever so keen to know things about you. you have no idea why he does that. you have known he hates humans. the only people he has tolerated is your brother and your mom. when they came to 'visit' you. he played the boyfriend bit quite well, also. "yeah, s' great." you hum, taking another disinterested bite.

"really? i didn't like the spice level, you like spices too, don't you?" he hits you with another question. manami and larue are gazing at you, they don't know what kinda mood suguru is in at the moment. there are times he just locks you up for hours because he doesn't wish to contaminate the house with monkey stench. you don't want it to be one of those days either.

"i like it." you answered, not sure what is it that he wishes to hear.

suguru has also been like a quiet cat in the last few months. he just observes you, watches you keenly, accompanies you on your walks and has attached himself to a fleeting hope that you would eventually open up to him. you haven't asked him anything about himself, or ever expressed your discomfort. you don't want to talk about the instances where you and him have almost kissed for several times. or when you seek him out with sillies like, "do you want to take a walk? do you want to go and eat ice cream? do you wanna watch a movie?" there are moments with suguru which almost feel a little too domesticated. its not all bad.

there are moments when he clutches at your wrist and you feel the burn seep through your entire body, and then you hate yourself for it. there are moments you hate him and wish for him to die when you remember it's your friend's birthday and she's no more. there are a total of good and bad and even which you can't possibly count. there are times suguru hugs you for good mornings and then there are times he doesn't want to see your face. you both are struggling to accept each other.

"last time this was made, you didn't take a bite." he raises a brow. "so i made sure they had something you liked for store." he crosses his arms. raising a brow. oh goodness.. suguru geto and his fierce memory. "i like it now." you scoffed stubbornly.

the chair slides back and your heart sinks, suguru is coming towards you. there is a layer of panic in your body language that isn't unreadable despite there having enough close moments between you two. you flinched when he takes the last footstep, standing in front of you. his hand yanking the plate away and shoving it closer to your face. "does this look like the plate full of something you love?" he's right, you have barely taken a bite or two. you swallow thick, unsure why you're being lectured like a child. "sorry... i was just busy thinking about something but, i'll finish it." you mumbled, eyes glossed up at the sudden change. maybe its him who is in a bad mood today.

"no, i said i got something else." he yanks the plate against the wall, the crockery breaking the same time as a stray tear falls down your cheek. oh he's mad. its so evident the turmoil suguru is in when he's around you. you wish he didn't have to go through the psychological torture either, but its him that needs to understand that too. "don't be mad and ruin the dinner for everyone geto." your words have a slight gnaw, a warning. you don't know where you muster the strength to say all that but... you just do.

suguru is tamed just like that, a heavy sigh followed by an eye roll. you get up, wanting to leave when you feel his hand clasp around your wrist, tight, restricting some of your blood flow.

"i said, i got some food for you y/n" he raises a brow, why are you so difficult and why can't he kill you off. he knows he has a soft corner for you, he knows he ... loves you. which is why this hurts. he hates that fate had to choose no one but a fucking monkey for him. the very kind he hates has this much control over him. he wishes so bad that the feeling goes away, but his heart is taut between needing you near him and wanting to push you away.

"please." he murmurs like an injured lion next, leaning his hand away when you hiss in pain. so frail and breakable. he's so afraid to touch you wrong even, you're like a little bunny and he's this... big bad wolf. can't even hold you up well without hurting you. always extra careful... delighted to be extra careful. your hand reacts to his hold, turning redder and slightly blue. even though you're the one that's bruised, suguru is the one that's hurting.

"don't understand how weak someone can be." he hums, holding your hand gently and glaring at the wound. he hates this so much. then, there's always you attacking with words as well.

"oh you mean these physical wounds? eh, they're no problem. you can lock me up again if you're scared of hurting me physically, geto." you remind him that these are physical wounds, that this is something unrelated to the mental wounds he's given you.

"i have scars too, little one. so many scars from touching you." he replies, he also, means the emotional scars. you are a living, breathing reminder that his hate isn't enough after all.

"eat your food." suguru ends with a hum, despite everything, he can't let you go.

[st4rtar0t]

Some channeled songs for you from a loved one

Pick a picture

MASTERLIST ☆ PAID SERVICES

These pictures do not belong to me, they belong to their rightful owners. I only own the content of this post.

Picture 1

You are the innocent kid of the Pious God,

The dearest to his royalty…

Innocent kid of the Pious God,

You are his beloved child,

The worries that God has given,

He only will take them away.

The Girl has become like the Peepal (tree),

Everyone worships you,

But no one ever sows your seeds,

And no one can arrest you at home…

Treading the roads fearlessly,

She is akin to rain water,

When she comes near the real world,

She becomes a little dirty.

If you be the cash

I'll be the rubber band

You be the match

I will be a fuse, boom

Painter, baby, you could be the muse

I'm the reporter, baby, you could be the news

'Cause you're the cigarette and I'm the smoker

We raise a bet 'cause you're the joker

Checked off, you are the chalk

And I can be the blackboard

You can be the talk

And I can be the walk, yeah

Even when the sky comes falling

Even when the sun don't shine

I got faith in you and I

So put your pretty little hand in mine

Even when we're down to the wire, babe

Even when it's do or die

We could do it, baby, simple and plain

'Cause this love is a sure thing

Picture 2

My eyes choose only you, my eyes only listen to my heart.

He forgets the whole world and gets lost in thoughts of you.

I don’t see any difference between you and God.

I have fallen madly in love with you…

I have fallen completely madly in love with you…

When I see a shooting star I will pray for you.

I pray that when our bond is joined, it will never break.

I didn’t realize when night turned into morning.

Ever since you’ve been mine I’ve stopped noticing time.

I want to call you mine, I want to be with you.

I keep looking for an excuse to see you.

I have fallen madly in love with you…

I have fallen completely madly in love with you…

I don’t see any difference between you and God.

You're so hypnotizing

Could you be the devil?

Could you be an angel?

Your touch, magnetizing

Feels like I am floating

Leaves my body glowing

They say, be afraid

You're not like the others

Futuristic lover

Different DNA

They don't understand you

You're from a whole 'nother world

A different dimension

You open my eyes

And I'm ready to go

Lead me into the light

Picture 3

I will live by your name

I will die by your name

To be with you I can do anything for you

What you have done to me; The ego in me has died; been erased;

Yes, I have become

Yours, I have become mad for you

When the wildness of love crosses all the limits

The lovers hang themselves with smile

The magic of love overpowers the mind and proclaims

You may guard (the paths) but the lord will create a way

This is the will of love

This is the will of God

Without you, How can I live ?

Yes I know, this is the selfishness

I became crazy and play in all colors

I am innocent, mad and wild

I sing, I dance, I make everyone happy

Now I do not follow any religion or rules of society

Because I am mad and crazy in love

And if I may just take your breath away

I don't mind if there's not much to say

Sometimes the silence guides a mind

To move to a place so far away

The goosebumps start to raise

The minute that my left hand meets your waist

And then I watch your face

Put my finger on your tongue 'cause you love to taste, yeah

These hearts adore, everyone the other beats hardest for

Inside this place is warm

Outside it starts to pour.

[macsmoods]

can I request a hobie brown x fem! spider person and they kinda adopt miles and gwen. They see them and they’re like “yep these are our kids now.”

FOUND FAMILY

Hobie Brown

Summary: You and Hobie have been together for about 6 months now. When Miguel introduces everyone to the new recruits there’s an immediate liking between the 4 of you. Soon you and Hobie find yourselves becoming protective.

not edited—requests:open ——————————————————————— •“I’m excited. It been awhile since we got new recruits” you said excitedly walking to the conference room. You hands were locked together as you swung them back and fourth.

“Me to. Hopefully there not jack asses like the last to.” you nodded in agreement as he finished talking.

You flashed Miguel a smile which he, obviously, didn’t return. You sat down next to Hobie. You leg bounced up and down nervously as you waited for miguel to begin.

“Calm down darling.” hobie said placing a hand on your knee. Although it had been half a year of being together he still found simple ways to make you blush.

“Alright let’s begin.” miguel yelled out. “As you know we have 2 new recruits. They will be treated with respect and won’t be treated indifferently. Understood?” he said looking at Hobie.

“He touched my hair alright. What i did was in the right. Plus he only fractured his wrist, nothing worse” a hobie explained hand in the air in defense.

Miguel rolled his eyes before beginning again. “Alright please give a warm welcome to Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy.” Everyone watched as they walked in.

Gwen was short and had shaved part of her head. It seemed it had been died with different colors. Miles seemed tall enough with a black and red suit.

You watched as Miles gave a timid wave seeming nervous while Gwen smiled confidently.

“Ok go sit down.” Miguel said in a bored tone. You waved them over to the seats next to you.

They walked over sitting. “Hi i’m y/n and this is my boyfriend Hobie.” you said extending your hand.

They both shook it smiling back. “It’s nice to meet you.” gwen said. You took your focus back to miguel. You grabbed Hobies hand with a smile as you sat next your new friends. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•“Gwen! Get down from there people are staring!” you scolded as the blonde stepped off the table. “It’s not a joke Gwen you could get hurt.” Gwen and Miles laughed as you and Hobie glared.

“ok mother dearest.” gwen retorted sarcastically.

“I swear they never listen.” you whispered to Hobie. He grabbed your hand squeezing it.

“It’s ok darling. It’s just a phase.” you smiled at that. Quickly it was wiped from your face as you heard a gag.

Miles and Gwen were faking vomiting. “Ok guys real mature.” Hobie said.

“Bye mom. Bye dad.” They said leaving the table.

“Get back here now!” Hobie yelled. You gripped his hand as they walked away. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ • “What were you two even thinking!” you said slamming your hands on the desk. “First you leave this dimension without telling us an then you show up at a fight you were told not to be at by multiple people.” you yelled.

“You could have gotten hurt, or worse killed. So not only would you cause great grief to me and y/n you would also be causing a huge disruption in your dimension!” Hobie yelled.

Gwen scoffed at that. “Would you like to say something?” you snarled.

“This is bullshit! You aren’t are parents so stop acting like it. We are adults who can make are own decisions.” Gwen yelled. “Cmon miles we’re leaving.” They both stood up.

“No i don’t think so! Get the fuck back here!” you yelled but they were already out the door and down the hall. “fuck” you whispered.

Hobie pulled you into a hug kissing your head. Hot tears spilled on your cheeks. “Are we really that bad Hobie?” you whimpered.

“No baby. It’ll take some time before they realize why we’re here. We may not be there real parents but they need someone to take care of them here.” hobie said.

He leaned down attaching your guys lips. “Cmon we have to get to the meeting.” you sighed.

You walked down the hall making it to Miguel’s office. Both you and Hobie stood in. the corner ready to listen.

“There’s a new anomaly!” miguel’s voice echoed through the office. All the spiders went quiet. “For this mission I will need Y/n, Hobie, Gwen, Miles, and Peter. B. That is all. The following people will be debriefed by me. Others please make your way to Lyla for further instruction.”

Your squad walked towards Miguel as he sat atop at his desk. The tension was high as you watched Gwen and Miles move further from you and a hobie.

“There being jackasses. Don’t let them bother you.” Hobie leaned down and whispered. You smiled as Miguel began.

“This new anomaly is one we have seen only few times. The plan is simple. Take it down. We leave right now.” at that Miguel stepped into the portal. Miles and Gwen quickly followed leaving you, Hobie and Peter entering last.

Immediately you saw them already fighting. Quickly running you began to bring civilians to safety. Miguel and Peter could handle the anomaly.

You and Hobie worked together swinging grabbing anyone they could bringing them to safety. Gwen and Miles were doing the same, well you hoped they were.

You noticed a small child in the middle of it all scared. You swung and ducked grabbing him by his waist lifting him into the air. You found a safe place where people could help him.

Running back to the scene you noticed it had quieted down.

“damn that was a quick one.” you commented walking up to Hobie. His eyes were glossed over. “Hey what’s wrong hun.” you looked in his direction to see Peter and Miguel trying to move a bus.

“Hey what’s going on.” you yelled running over. You attached webs attempting to help.

“Gwen. Miles. Bus.” miguel muttered.

“no, no , no!” you yelled. You pulled and pulled Hobie joining. “God damnit you stupid kids!” you’d creamed. With one last pull the bus flew out of the way.

You and Hobie ran towards them pulling rubble off them. “Miles, Geen cmon let’s wake up ok. Your gonna be okay. It all gonna be fine.” Hobie pleaded shaking them. Your eyes blurred as you watched.

“Y/n, Hobie.” Gwen choked out.

“Oh my poor girl!” you cried throwing yourself around her. “Oh Miles!”you yelled embracing him as he sat up. Hobie wrapped his arms around you guys as well.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry i’m a horrible person. All the shit i said. We really do see you as our parents. We need you guys.” Gwen cried.

“shhhh it’s gonna be ok. We are all ok.” Hobie whispered hugging everyone even tighter. ———————————————————————

Authors note

This was so cute to write. Such a fun request hopefully i delivered it well. Should i do any other fandom one shots? ( ex. obx,marvel,etc.)

sincerely,

macsmoods🌊🫧

[iaure]

𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶; 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢

𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝖔❜𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2: 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 3: 𝔦 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨, 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 4: 𝔰𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 CW: self-awareness, stalking, obsession, delusion, ptsd, mention of a brother's death, thoughts of kidnapping. Written in the third person. Use of Y/N. Spoilers for Spider-Man: Across The Spiderverse.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ heaven have mercy on my simple soul. we might have another dearest series on our hands, but for miguel. god. jesus. i made this in one (1) day. it's two am.

wc: 1.7k

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻❜𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝘀.

Miguel knew that feeling all too well. Gabriella faded away in his arms, a flash of technicolour and geometric shapes. An entire world, falling away and escaping from him, like grains of glass as fine as sand but still so colourful. That's what kept him moving. He never wanted someone to make the same mistake. But he was only a man. he couldn't be alone in the isolation of his own making forever. He built up those walls, praying he'd have the sense to never knock them down. But brick by brick, other people did. First was Jess. She was his friend, his sister in arms. Then Peter, then a thousand other faces and names and hearts and morals and everything that made Spider-Man, Spider-Man. They each took a brick, as though it was nothing. It was just by pure chance that she was the one to take that last brick. She was a new addition. Friendly, witty, quick on her feet. Just like everyone else. Another Spider in another place and another time. Another in a million, another clone, another warm body as fodder. But when Jess brought her to him, Miguel knew; she was one in a trillion.

She had stood next to Jess, firm, with a thousand yard stare like she'd been digging around Miguel's soul and yanking out her favourite bruises. Harrowing was a good word for it. Her estranged brother, a captain in the police, had died. She looked like she'd seen Hell. Fresh bruises, scarring, her suit torn in some places...and she stood tall.

"Spider-Woman, from Earth 7290. Also known as Y/N."

Jess spoke softly, a hand on Y/N's shoulder. Her breathing was steady but her eyes had glazed over, completely tapped out to the situation. Miguel felt his heart tug. He knew what it was like. Everyone did. Most Spiders were sad, upset, but she simply seemed...angry. Furious, even. Like if Miguel made a move towards her, she'd chew him up and spit him out. He'd seen people try to tame horses before, ones that would buck and kick and neigh until someone's leg was broken. It was like Jess was doing that. The one hand on Y/N's shoulder, keeping her in place.

"Miguel?" Jess spoke up, and he came out of his haze. "Are you listening?" "Yeah." He nodded, quietly clearing his throat. "Sure. Get her a watch." Jess shared a look with Y/N, one that he couldn't quite tell the reasoning behind, but the glance of her eyes was enough.

Spider-Woman of Earth 7290 took the last brick.

He'd see Y/N around, walking around the Spider Society and speaking with other Spiders. She seemed to hold that anger close to her heart, despite the other Spiders telling her that it'd get better over time. They'd healed, or got over it, or pushed it out of their mind. But not Y/N. She stayed mad. She stayed angry. Miguel understood that more than most. Mourning took time. So many had gotten over it after years. It wasn't fair to expect Y/N get it over it so fast. He didn't think so, anyway. After all, it was an anomaly that took her brother's life. A mistake. It had fallen off the proverbial map, but according to Jess, Y/N had 'handled it her own way'. Whatever that meant. Miguel didn't really care. All he worried about was her. Rather than just taking the brick off his walls, she smashed it in with a hammer and ran it over with a bulldozer. She had a wrecking ball to smash a single blue and red brick. And he hated it. Because what about Gabriella? What about his wife? Did their deaths mean nothing now? And how was this healthy? Granted, Miguel wasn't a healthy person. Not like that. But the sudden way his mind dedicated himself to her was absurd. Did it have to do with his DNA? With the spider mutation? Rapture? Mating season? There had to be an explanation. A cure.

But there was none.

Now, Miguel's mind was rotting away. He wished he could pry it open and take to it with tweezers, to prod out the parts that he hated. But his eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, and he knew he didn't stand much of a chance anymore. It was all Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. Even just the faint, passing scent of her was enough to drive him up a wall that very much shouldn't exist. Passing word of her wellbeing made him tune into conversations he was never part of. He began to develop a seventh sense: touch, hearing. sight, smell, taste, spidersense, and Y/Nsense.-the uncanny ability to know when she needed help. Trademarked, owned by Miguel O'Hara exclusively. Peter once teased him about how Miguel would suddenly jump up and scoot over to the cameras, checking in on Spider-Woman 7290.

The teasing didn't last long when given way to the severity of the situation.

Gradually, Miguel leaned into it. If he couldn't fight it, then join it. Revel in it. Let his eyes linger on her frame. Let his waking hours resort to thinking of her. Let him suffer. He deserved it. He began to follow Y/N around. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. And sometimes, Miguel would see enemies-a Vulture here, a Doc Ock there-and he'd help when she wasn't looking. Little favours here and there began cropping up. Getting her groceries. Taking care of her cat. Fiddling with the gas for the car of the one creep that kept following her around that was so sure she was Spider-Woman. Granted, the creep was right. But he didn't know that.

(He did. Love comes in many shapes and forms.)

Y/N never seemed to notice. She was off, battling her own demons and fighting the good fight in her own world. She was good and kind and still angry but she used that anger so well, and Miguel loved her for it. She burned with the anger of a thousand dying stars. She was everything. When Y/N would stop by the Spider Society, Miguel made sure to look good. Brush his hair, brush his fangs, make sure his eye bags weren't too obvious, or if they were, then they looked good. He was trying to get her to like him, after all. Check to make sure his suit didn't have any tears or holes. Because Y/N was gorgeous. She could drag herself in with her guts spilling out like roadkill and he'd still think she's the most beautiful thing to grace the multiverse.

The beauty of delusion, he supposed.

He was aware how delusional this was. He knew how absurd it was that he saw her and fell immediately. Was this what happened in fairy tales? Is this what Prince Charming felt when he saw Cinderella? The world completely spinning the moment there's even a hint of her? The complete dedication of his heart to this woman that barely acknowledged him...someone who would only glance his way if it was a requirement. Y/N was cordial to him, but little more. And it made his heart ache. She spoke to Jess more than she spoke to him. It felt wrong. It felt cruel, like a tease, trailing up and down his spine but never providing relief. One word to him was ten to Jess.

Miguel refuses to admit it, to accept that he was willing to stoop so low. But there was a brief moment where he thought about hurting Jess. Or getting her on some mission that would take forever. Breaking her bracelet when she least expected it so Y/N would have to come to him.

He'd never act on it. He was sure of that.

If there was one thing Miguel was proud of for himself, it was his restraint. He had the unparalleled ability to simply...hold off. Another day, he'd tell himself. Next time, he'd self-assure. Then another next time. Then another. Until heaven knows how many next times it's been, and he's aching for her to even look at him, but why won't she glance his way? Why was she so cold? He's done everything he could. Just look at him! For god's sake, just fucking look at him! That's all he wanted! Five minutes with your eyes on him, your undivided attention.

But no. Another day, he said. Next time.

But maybe he could simply...take Y/N away. Her world was inconsequential. It'd be easy to take care of any villains. He'd do it for her, single-handedly. She were everything. He could just keep her there, in his office, never allowed to leave. He could come back after a long mission to her loving arms, her warm embrace, flush to flush to flush to flush. He'd do unspeakable things just for her to trace the vague outline of his body with her eyes. If Y/N told him to kill, he'd do so without question anymore. Miguel barely had any control over himself.

The next time he saw her, it was while dealing with Miles. It was so much, all at once and never at all and undying and swarming his senses. It was so much that he didn't realise how much she'd been smiling at the two teenagers, how sweet her gaze got, the gentle touches and warm laughter and how Gwen and Miles looked up to her.

He didn't know Y/N had a soft spot for kids. And he found out most vividly when she was the first one to help Miles escape, blocking off what must've felt like half of the Spider Society with the same undying rage, now spent on protecting her new friend, the child she called such sweet things. That she saw as her own.

Miguel felt his heart shatter when he had to take her down. The way she fell into the floor, limp and dangling like she was nothing more than occupied space. His heart was wounded, wailing like a dying dog. She picked the newcomer, the anomaly, over him. Him, her one true love. Did it matter that she'd known it yet? No. It only mattered that she helped Miles escape.

Lord, he thought. I worry that love is violence.

[sandara-and-coco]

₊˚⊹⋆ Howdy there! It’s finally time for Sandrock's final release yay ₊˚⊹⋆

To celebrate this special occasion Sandara pulled off her jewelry making skills to prepare some unique rings for every sandrocker who wishes to propose to their soulmate ! So without further, here's a little story behind each design,

Qi - Sended an intriguing blueprint to Sandara with complex symbols and diagrams…He assured her that it meant something important to his soulmate so she craved the coded message in precious silver with care. Even if she didn’t get Qi special love language as usual she was sure his loved one would get it ;)

Owen - Our favorite bartender showed an intricate design to Sandara, a delicate pattern almost the same as his own parents' engagement ring. Like the gilding flowers on the cover of a fine book he wished to give his lover the beginning of the story they were about to write together in this life.

Fang - The swan holding a special meaning to him Fang requested Sandara to make his ring the shape of that gracious animal to seal his promise to love and cherish his dearest one forever.

Ernest - Came by with this big and expensive pearl that got a special meaning to him asking Sandara if she could add it to his ring. The pearl symbol of his loyalty and love was carefully placed on the gold ring, the initials of his name and his lover one engraved on the inside.

Pablo - He made a special request to Sandara in search of the most colorful metal they could find for his ring in which bismuth mineral was perfect! Showing how bright and full of all the colors of this world his love was for his chosen one.

Arvio - Insisting on getting the most fine materials Arvio asked for a special ring. He showed Sandara a rare sand flower from Baranarok symbolizing hope and renewal inspiring the shape of that jewel meant to bond him and his other half forever.

Miguel - Requested a rather simple but very elegant ring, made with pale gold with a single diamond to show the purity of his love for his chosen one.

Burgess - Asked for something extra special to convey all his will to live in happiness and kindness with his soulmate. The yellow diamond he chose shining in the center of his ring radiating like the sun all his love.

Pen - In secret Pen demanded the most powerful ring Sandara could make to give his special one great strength and power he’s all for. However he never delivered it himself…

Unsuur - While admiring his collection Unsuur couldn't choose which gem was more fitting so he brought them all to Sandara to make a special ring! (even adding a few shards Wilson lost to make the base of his special ring ;)

Justice - Wanted a pretty ring that still felt like him so Sandara took great care at bringing out Justice strong will and honesty toward his most precious one with this silver and copper ring.

Logan - The only one Sandara didn’t made because well Logan made it himself for his special one! On late hunt nights he sat by the fire and carefully carved this ring in bones with the will to give his loved one something he made with all his heart.

This isn’t much but I hope everyone will have much fun playing and living wonderful adventures with Sandrockers friendly as romantic ones ! As I used to study jewelry making it was very much fun to do and fitting hc that Sandara would make them for the town folks !

It’s been already one year that I have being in this fandom and so so grateful for everything it brought me and the wonderful people it allowed me to meet ♡

I’m currently working on the girl next and some custom ones for my fellow builders who helped me with the designs ◇

₊˚⊹⋆ Happy Sandrock day ! Wish you all the best and see you soon to continue this journey together ₊˚⊹⋆

[softestqueeen]

✧*̥˚ fic recs *̥˚✧

here are some of my favourite fics! here are all of the fics i regularly re-read and go back to!

i will be updating this list as i go!

if you see your works here and want them removed, please reach out to me!

disclaimer: they are ALL x reader *heavy sigh*

last update: 30/06/24

✧*̥˚ marvel/mcu *̥˚✧

loki laufeyson

burning words by @lokiprompts (angst/fluff)

the ceremony by @smolvenger (smut)

i want you by @lokigodofmyheart (angsty fluff)

statues by @sassypossumm (fluff)

enchanted by @fqreverwinter (fluff)

my attention by @seriiousgiirl (fluff/smut)

love story by @averagewriter-inthedark (headcanon/ fluff)

you can wrap me round your finger by @spookyrea (fluff)

lokis little witch by @vbecker10 (smutty fluff)

training blues by @jiyascepter (hurt/comfort)

running into trouble by @vbecker10 (angsty hurt/comfort)

gossip by @lokigodofmyheart (smut)

like a queen by @lokisgoodgirl (smut)

blue christmas by @mochie85 (smut)

what makes a princess by @muddyorbsblr (fluff)

lace and beads by @sarahscribbles (smut)

bucky barnes

breeding kink blurb by @buckyalpine (smut)

pick me by @buckyalpine (angst & hurt/comfort; fluff)

drabble by @buckyalpine (smut)

please can i hold you? by @itsthewritergal (hurt/comfort)

one shot by @buckyalpine (angsty fluff)

a forbidden invitation by @thevillainswhore (smut)

wanda maximoff

good morning ࿏ wm by @themidnightcrimson (smut)

natasha romanoff

one for the road by @elaci (fluff/smutty)

stephen strange

my doctor by @withalittlehoney (fluff)

good girl by @futureplayboibunnie (smut)

his medicine by @ironstrange1991 (fluff/smut)

the goatee problem by @ironstrange1991 (fluffy drabble)

you're my comfort by @ironstrange1991 (fluff)

bucky barnes & steve rogers

accidents happen by @myfictionaldreams (fluff, smut, hurt/comfort)

adventures of amy series by @girlygirl14534

miguel o'hara

all brawn by @luvrxbunny (smut)

hot and bothered by @spiderlyla (fluffy smut)

bruce banner

cuddles are the cure by @late-to-the-party-81 (fluff/comfort)

steve rogers

tomorrow by @writtenfangirl (fluff)

here for you by @elixirfromthestars (hurt/comfort)

✧*̥˚ bbc sherlock *̥˚✧

sherlock holmes

sidewalks of london by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

the london eye by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

hold me by @fallingforunrealisticromance (fluff)

brother dearest by @starks-hero (fluff)

a single touch by @bakerstreethound (smut)

safe in your arms by @classickook (fluff)

too good to be true by @teigo-the-explorer (fluff)

let the light in by @starssaroundmyscarssblog (fluff)

dear jealousy by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

a case of mistletoe and presents by @bakerstreethound (smutty)

✧*̥˚ call of duty *̥˚✧

könig

sugar daddy!könig by @yawnderu (smut)

pornstar!könig by @yawnderu (smut)

simon "ghost" riley

soft-tummy simon riley by @lovelyghst (fluff)

pornstar!Ghost by @shotmrmiller (smut)

drabble by @xiamentshoneypot (fluff)

wife of ghost by @august126 (smut)

✧*̥˚ harry potter *̥˚✧ *heavy sigh* i know

george weasley

the stolen sweater by @mayraki (fluff)

put your head on my shoulder by @weelittleweasley (fluff)

✧*̥˚ actors/actresses*̥˚✧

tom hiddleston

in too deep by @thefaefiction (smut)

✧*̥˚ criminal mind*̥˚✧

spencer reid

be my angel by @nereidprinc3ss (angsty fluff)

smut imagine by @minswriting

✧*̥˚ authors*̥˚✧

here are some of the authors i love to read and i always go back to!

@ironstrange1991 (stephen strange) her masterlist

@buckyalpine (bucky barnes) her masterlist

@luvrxbunny (bucky barnes, miguel o'hara, moon knight, joel miller) her masterlist

@fettuccin-e (oscar isaac & pedro pascal characters) her masterlist

@bakerstreethound (sherlock holmes) their masterlist their masterlist 2.0

@withalittlehoney (stephen strange) her masterlist

@melodygatesauthor (moon knight & miguel o'hara) her masterlist

[spdrvyn]

is that my hoodie? — MIGUEL O'HARA

☆ you've been having trouble sleeping, tossing and turning in your bed so you try finding the closest thing you can have to your boyfriend's presence and eventually spot his hoodie.

toothrotting fluff. gn!reader. idiots in love. trying to get into the spirit of writing and figured it would be good for practicing time management if i tried uploading a ficlet every once in a while. enjoy!

Sleepless nights dare not utter your name.

You and your bed went hand in hand with each other. On most nights after coming home from work, you'd skip the self-care routine and instantly hit the pillow, letting dearest slumber do all of its work. 

So when you get together with highest ranking insomniac, Miguel O'Hara, you're left in shock when it's midnight and he still insists on staying up late. At times, you would have to put a fight just to get him to sleep a little. 

No matter, you obviously still love your boyfriend, even though his sleep schedule is akin to a vampire. Even though his eyebags are deep enough to carry all of your groceries, but given his physique both of his arms could do that too. 

Unfortunately, you're lead to believe that he's starting to have an influence on you. 

You've started to get a little bit dependent on Miguel when you need to sleep. You knew well that his job really needed him to work through grogginess and exhaustion, but it was hard to even close your eyes knowing that his side of the bed was empty. 

You'd normally try finding the closest thing to his presence. Eating his favorite foods before bed, sleeping with a picture of him next to you on your phone, it was almost a little pathetic. The amount of times that Miguel would clamber through the window frustrated only for his mood to soften after seeing that you're fast asleep while his face was zoomed in on a selfie you two shared.

It's not like he would complain, he'd never complain about something like this. He found it rather endearing you missed him so badly while he was away, it's a feeling that he had long yearned for and now, it was at his very fingertips. 

Although tonight was a particularly different night, and definitely not in a good way either. You'd tossed and turned, trying out each of your little methods yet nothing worked. Perhaps digging a deep hole and dying in it would be a better solution to this horrible problem. 

You weren't even quite sure if Miguel was home yet, it was very late so it was guaranteed he'd be here soon, but still. 

You missed him. You missed him and it hurt.

Gruffly, you sat up from your lone spot on the bed, rubbing at your heavy eyelids. Once your vision had cleared, adjusting to the darkness of the room properly, you had picked up on something from across the room. 

Hanging from a chair was Miguel's hoodie, he only really brings it with him every once in a while, particularly when it was a chillier day at the office. Is it easy for spiders to get cold? You'd google that later.

Nevertheless, the opportunity came up and you took it with no questions asked. Moving out of your bed, you outstretch an arm to yoink his hoodie from the desk chair.

Even just holding it up in front of you, the article of clothing looked massive. Upon first meeting, you thought Miguel's size was a little bit terrifying with a mix of intrigue. You always wondered what he ate growing up to even get tall enough to practically shrink you.

Now that you're actually dating him, you've been more than content with it. Doesn't mean the fact that he's 6"9 doesn't intimidates you a little, but it has its advantages.

After that thought, you take up the courage to actually put it on and it's as big as it looks. The edge of the hoodie practically reaching your knees as the sleeves dangle off of your hands that you have to pull them up to your elbows.

Once you pulled the hood over, you were overwhelmed with his scent. Yeah, surely this would work.

You fall back down onto the mattress, bringing the collar of the hoodie to your nose to get another whiff of it. There was a good chance that you'd be embarrassed of yourself for acting so lovesick later but right now? Getting some sleep was all that mattered.

So you waited and waited and waited...

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Your nails dig into the softness of your pillow, what a fucking idiot you must be. The urge to curse your brain out for not letting you get some sleep was strong, but you didn't want to be the reason that other people stay up like this as well.

It simply wasn't enough. You could walk down to the nearest nerd shop, buy a really stupid looking Spider-Man figure, sleep with it, and it wouldn't be the same as being in the same bed with the life-sized stupid looking version of him.

Eventually, you relented. It seemed that you were just going to have to cope with not being able to get sleep and walk into work this morning looking like a zombie.

Your body threatened to crumble in on itself as you lazily stumbled out of the bedroom and into the living room. Only to see...

Miguel. Hunched over the kitchen counter, multiple screens leaving a vermillion glow on his chiseled face. He was wearing a compression shirt and some gray sweats, glasses pushed up on his nose with his signature pout playing at his lips.

Now that feeling of idiocy intensified, you were getting all mopey about Miguel not being home and he's here. He's probably been here for only god knows how long. Not that you were complaining.

Lifelessly, you trudge over to him and he miraculously isn't able to pick up on your footfalls, therefore you leave him startled as you push him back against the chair so that you can sit on his lap.

Despite his initial surprise, he instinctively wraps his arms around you and the warmth of it spreads to your very nerves, satisfying that craving for him in your heart.

"Is that my hoodie?" inquires Miguel, his hand moving down to the carefully stitched hem of his clothes, tracing over the seams before slipping under to glide over the skin of your lower back. "You do know that I've been back since thirty minutes ago, right?"

"You should've come to bed then," you said as you nuzzled further into the crook of his neck, your lips pressing up against his pulse point as it thrummed gently. "Missed you a lot."

"I have work to do, you know that," he sighs, pushing his glasses back further onto the bump of his nose.

However, he doesn't need to have superhuman senses to tell that this isn't just the drowsiness talking. Don't get him wrong, his job is of utmost importance, entire livelihoods could be eradicated from even the smallest mishap, but seeing how you're clinging to him, the thought of you even being unable to sleep without him...

The multiverse is the multiverse obviously, that is an undeniable fact, but you were the most important thing to him. Among all else that Miguel has to put up with, you came bursting in and brought an entirely new perspective in his life that he never considered.

You were his multiverse. His life.

"Just a few more minutes," he relents, the feeling of a small kiss on the top of your head bringing a flush to your cheeks. "Just a few more minutes and I'll be all yours, corazón."

"Mmm, you promise?"

"I promise."

With that, a small smile tugs at your lips and you slump against Miguel's body, letting your limbs relax a little as he gets back to work. He keeps a reassuring hand on the small of your back, you think he'll move it away to type away at a document but it doesn't.

It stays there, unwavering and secure. You love it. You love him, you really do. Eventually, you lose feeling of his hand as you succumb to slumber at long last. Miguel notices too, from the way that your breathing deepens and soft snores slip past your mouth.

For once, he sticks to his word. Swiping all the screens that he was attending to and he stands up from his spot on the counter, he adjusts his arm so that you stay properly lifted up on his shoulder. He hesitates as he feels you shift in his arms, but you continue to sleep.

He carries you back to your shared room, setting you down onto the mattress that opposed your rest, now inviting and warm all due to Miguel's presence. He lays down beside you, brushing a few stray strands of hair from your face so he can gaze down at your form.

God, he could care less if you were wearing a trash bag in a dumpster or the most ethereal outfit with makeup done by the most talented artist in the world, he'll take in every single part of your beauty.

One final kiss to the bridge of your nose and it doesn't take long for Miguel to visit the land of dreams with you, where he's happy, content, and stupidly in love. Again, with you.

Only you.

[your-girl-mj]

The truth. [42!Miles Morales x Spiderwoman!reader]

summary: He wants the truth, and you can't give it to him.

warning: cursing, mentions of cheating, accusations, arguments. angst (?)

notes: written in 3rd point of view,

created: july 25, 2023

published: july 26, 2023

exhausted, tired, drained. those three words are to describe what [name] is feeling. dragging her legs on the floor of the empty, quiet hallway of her apartment building. her suit hidden inside her (miles') jacket and some loose pants that her boyfriend gifted her.

Miguel gave her a rough mission with two anomalies on the loose in the same dimension. it's a good thing she her battles didn't leave wounds. god, she missed her bed already. the soft sheets, with miles snuggle up to her from behind.

the girl smiled at the thought of the one she loved the dearest and thinking about what he's doing at this time of hour, [1:47 am]. her heart melted at the image of miles sleeping soundly in his bed and how good he looked when his brows were relaxed and not formed into a scowl.

the air paused its way into her lungs when she opened her apartment door and saw the said boyfriend leaning on the couch's back rest, facing the door. as if he knew she would come back at this time of hour.

her grip on the knob tightened, but not too tight. yet her fingers left a dent on the cold metal. "miles! hey, i didn't know you were coming over." [name] beamed warmly at him, acting as if she didn't come home so early in the morning.

miles' stare was hard and unnerving. "where were you?" he asked, tilting his head as if challenging her for the truth. "the last message i sent you was around nine, saying I'll come over, and its one in the fucking morning." he push himself off the couch, approaching his s/o with threatening steps, slowly closing the door behind her. "so... where were you?"

his face was inches from her, and she hates fights. especially fights with miles. "i was working overti—"

"you said you were sick." miles suck his cheek, breathing out his nose, not buying to her another lie.

"i am!" she defended, quickly thinking another excuse when it was clear she was caught in the spotlight. "por eso... de camino aquí, compré medicinas, teroso." she took his arm, softly squeezing it to ease his worried thoughts. remembering about her last excuse to miles, she told him when he asked for a sleepover. [that's why... on my way here, i bought medicines, treasure.]

though, it didn't stop him from going to her apartment. he wanted to take care of her after she told him she had a high fever. with his mom working in the hospital, he knew a little bit of medicines and treatment. but he was met in an empty home.

his eyes narrowed, not fluttering from her touch, yet he made no effort to lean away from it. "i was so worried." his tone almost gone mute, "i came to your window because i thought you were resting, you weren't there." miles couldn't help his voice as it started to weaver, "pensé que estabas en la sala de estar pero no estabas allí. i've even looked the streets for you." he sighed. [I thought you were in the living room, but you weren't there.]

he runs his hand into his face in exhaustion, as [name] stayed in silent with guilt — guilt, that is slowly eating her up for not telling him everything. he needs to know, he deserves to know. but the thought of him causing his life to save hers always goes through her head. once he knows it's his s/o, he'll feel the need to protect her when she is supposedly protecting him.

"miles, I'm sorry for worrying you." 'and for every lie i told you...' the girl utter yet few words are left in her mind, she embraced him. griping his shirt, having a feeling that shit will be going down soon. "i have something important to do and—"

"and what? tell me." he pulled away as much as he wanted to stay in her arms, but he's a little too pissed right now. "tell me where you were. it's been months." [name] felt her heart drop with culpability, miles known for a long time now. his hard stare soon softens, hating how he's acting.

"cariño, sé que me has estado mintiendo, te conozco. dime por favor..." whispered in his soft voice with her hands in his, miles kissed the back of her palms, he feels like begging for the truth now. [I know you've been lying to me, I know you. Tell me please...]

his patience is getting thinner and thinner as days passed. his girl, disappearing with excuses and lies that he didn't point out. but what's a relationship without trust?

her eyes met his, [name] breath out. "miles..."

"all I'm asking is for you to be honest." his hold tighten, already have a thought about what will happen.

"i... can't tell you." her lips pursed, turning for head to the side. he'll die if he knows about her identity. with all her other version in multiverses; their miles as spiderman... left in dust, crying his eyes out, her body in his arms covered in her own blood. what can prevent such a tragic event when their roles are now reversed?

[name] closed her eyes, trying to leave those horrible thoughts, now breath heavily. she saw other versions of miles, they're mostly spider-people, and her fate in their canon event always left shivers. much like her coworker gwen stacy, her canon event made her peter parker died, when it got their roles reverse.

she can not risk it. she can't. she'll break.

"why not?" miles' jaw visibly clenched, his mind is slowly clouded with horrible doubts.

"miles, you need to understand — " she paused, "i just... can't lose you... i can't tell you." she turned her head away, unable to witness the hurt and anger mixed in his face. it's hard to lie to him. it's hard to resist his plead at times. but there are times when it has its limit.

miles stood, back straight. towering over [name], his face held betrayal when she peaked, and she knew where this was about to go. "you're cheating on me, aren't you?" his face holds a scowl, disappointment, distrust, betrayal mixed into an expression.

"what? no!" she was quick to deny, "i would never do that to you." she frown, hurt for being accused by such a thing.

"that explains more than you ever told me." his tone is starting to rise, with her on his tail matching his voice.

"why don't you trust me?!" her hands flown with an exaggerated movement.

"i did! but you keep on disappearing!" they're now head to head. one holding her ground while the other digging deep for the truth. "on dates, hangouts, movie nights, even in the middle of dinner! what is more to not assume?!"

"its was an emergency!" it was easy to tell the neighbours are listening to the argument right now. how can you not? when the couple who are oh-so-lovely are fighting about one of them cheating.

"of course it was!" her s/o's voice laced with sarcasm before it turned into a venom. "not to mention, i can hear you talking to guys on the phone!"

"it was my boss! he needs me for something!" with her unconventional strength at this moment, she accidentally left a crack on the wall when her hand smacked it while explaining. but miles didn't notice. his eyes were on her, and it didn't leave for a split second.

"yeah right, and what about that tall fucking dude with the funky ass hair?!" he pointed on the couch, remembering when he caught the two of them drinking soda and saying he was a friend at work. he believed her, of course he believed her. but right now, he's doubting eveything.

"i told you, hobie was a friend from work!" she defended once again, not telling the full truth. "i invited him in that time because we both needed rest!"

"rest from what exactly?!" miles felt like punching something, anything. horrible images flashing in his mind, he despise it. he deeply despite the thought.

"you don't understand, i'm doing this for you!" she yelled, dropping the subject. knowing if this continued one or both with end up getting hurt. wounded by harsh words.

"¡ay bendito!" he shouted, his hands almost pulling his braids out as he ran his hand on his head. "enough with your bullshit excuses! if it's not true, then what is the truth? tell me." he demanded, infuriated.

— choose your ending:

tell him the truth.

lie for his safety.

this is the first time in a while to write again, but miles keep running in my mind 😩

[kiame-sama]

Random short thing that popped up in my head; what if Miguel's darling accidentally or casually called Miguel 'Daddy'?

Warnings; use of the word Daddy, yandere, yandere behavior, implied adult themes, implied adult behavior, gender neutral reader,

"Miguel," the sweet voice of Miguel's heart spoke up from where they stood by his office door, "can we go soon?"

He had been spending long hours at work and it got to the point that LYLA called in the only person Miguel would listen to, his beloved.

Out of every ill-tempered behavior or aggressive action that Miguel showed, they all seemed to fade away so long as (Y/n) was by his side. Every spider knew that their boss had a weakness for his beloved and they also knew that he was fiercely protective of them even from those who don't pose a threat. However, even if having (Y/n) near Miguel made him protective, it is leaps and bounds better than dealing with an affection starving and prickly Miguel. The longer Miguel went without his lover nearby, the worse his temper became and the more volatile his rage was.

Miguel could work for days with little rest if he needed to, but he was powerless to the pull of his sweet darling calling him home. Still, he wanted to somewhat get his experimental design working before he went home.

"Sí, amor. Just give me a moment to figure this stupid thing out."

(Y/n) frowned as they saw how stubborn Miguel was being and understood why LYLA had called them to coax him out of the office. Whenever he set his mind to something, it was difficult for him to break away even if it made him neglect his own needs. Miguel adored his darling lover and wanted to go home with them, but he was so close to figuring out what was wrong with his newest experiment that he couldn't give up yet.

A sly grin overtook (Y/n)'s visage as they haughtily shrugged and turned, calling over their shoulder to Miguel.

"Okay. Thank you, Daddy."

The words had an immediate reaction from Miguel as an apparent crunching sound was heard, the small electronic crumbling to scrap in his grip. Though it took a moment for his mind to catch up with the statement and fully understand it, his body was quick to warm in response to the sentence. His eyes seemed to burn red as they flicked over to the doorway where his darling had been moments prior, statuesque body flexing.

Much like a cat stalking prey, or a spider judging the meal caught in a complex web, Miguel turned to the door with a clear rigidity. Where he was lithe and flexible, his body was stiff and not fully within his control anymore. A kind of hunger seemed to take over the typically critical and determined man, replacing the respected leader with a savage predator that had a clear target.

LYLA saved and shut everything in the office down as Miguel rushed out after his dearest with little regard to his now ruined piece of tech he destroyed. Perhaps he would blame himself for it tomorrow as he takes in the damage he did while briefly under control of his instincts. For now, Miguel had a single goal and he was going to reach that goal regardless of the effort it took to get there.

[im-a-writer-sometimes]

Thank You, Doctor (Miguel O’Hara - Part 1/4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Description: After being snagged from your own universe and put to work in the med bay in the midst of spider society, you catch the notice of one Miguel O’Hara.

Warnings: blood, probably language, ignoring the ATSV worldbuilding for the sake of my silly little plot

A/N: Are there plot holes? Yes. Do I care? Yes, so please don’t bring them up, I might cry. There’s an occasional Spanish interjection from Miguel, but I am not at all a fluent Spanish speaker, so feel free to correct me on anything if so inclined! Translations are at the end. Also, it includes a roundabout ode to my dearest love, Oscar Isaac. If you know, you know.

🕷

Not every anomaly was kept in a cage. Some, like yourself, had made use of your idle hands, hands that for one reason or another, could never again touch your own universe. It had taken some convincing, but after Lyla had heard enough of your requests from the neon red confines of your prison and carried them to whatever faceless spider person led this operation, you’d been let out. Your cage hadn’t disappeared per se, but it had widened a little. If your return to your own reality would cause its inevitable collapse—as you had repeatedly assured it would—then this was more than you could ask.

You made use of your figuratively-shackled hands in the med bay. You’d been a medical student when you’d been stolen from your universe, and you knew enough to patch up the wounds that came through your work station with ease most of the time—sometimes, after skimming a medical textbook and winging it. So far, no one had died on your watch, and you called that a success.

But your confidence, it seemed, may have been overinflated.

When a group of spiders rushed into the med bay with a large, tattered body strung between them, you felt profoundly out of your depth for the first time. But they couldn’t know that, lest you ended up caged once again.

“Put him on the bed,” you instructed. “Stomach down.” They heaved the body onto the bed, and you could make out the navy and red lines of a shredded suit, as well as a mess of brown hair, matted with blood you were hoping wasn’t his own. “Do you know exactly where he’s wounded?” you asked, running hands over the expanses of skin you could see, trying to make out where the various bloodstains were coming from.

“He was sliced along the back,” answered a breathless spider. “Stabbed twice in the abdomen as well.”

“Help me turn him on his side,” you said, to no one in particular, but there were suddenly several sets of hands helping you turn the man over. “You,” you continued, nodding to the spider standing across from you. “Grab a towel and keep pressure on the wounds on his abdomen.”

You conducted as thorough an examination as you could with your heart fluttering like a hummingbird in your throat, so many eyes trained on your shaking hands. The man had a few other shallow cuts and bruises, but as the spider had said—the biggest concerns were the slice along his back and the two stab wounds in his stomach.

Several of the spiders lingered as you worked, offering tools and towels and anything you needed to speed up the process. And then, in a half hour that felt like a handful of seconds, your work was done. If you had been asked to recount your actions movement for movement, you’d only be able to offer up a breathless blur of adrenaline and then the sudden empty stillness in the room after you'd managed to stabilize him. 

He was laid face up on a bed, covered by a blanket since you’d had to cut portions of his suit off of him. He couldn’t quite put a pin on his age, but he was handsome. You’d done your best to wash the blood out of his hair, and it fell in half-dry curls over his forehead. The angles of his face were severe, but they were soft, even kind somehow. At least in his sleep.

And then, to your great misfortune, he woke up.

At first it was a fluttering of eyelids, and you stood sharply from your chair, trying to look busy, as if you hadn’t just been sitting there staring at him. And then it was a few quiet groans as he tried to readjust himself. 

“Don’t sit up,” you said at the sight of him trying to push himself into a seated position. “You’ll rip out your stitches.”

He just blinked at you. “Who are you?”

“The person who saved your life,” you said, bristled by the gruff, mumbled annoyance in his tone.

He shook his head. “I have enhanced healing, I don’t need anyone to—” He was cut off by his own sharp gasp as he tried to haul himself off the bed. He went still and then avoided your eyes as he slowly lowered himself back down onto the mattress.

“You were saying?” you said, a smile curling your lips. You turned to the counter behind you, pulling a roll of gauze and medical tape from one of the cabinets. “You had a severe laceration on your back. You’re lucky it missed your spinal cord.” You turned towards him, gauze in hand, as you sat and scooted your stool towards the edge of your bed. “And that’s not even mentioning the two stab wounds.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, scooting away at your sudden closeness. 

“Your stab wounds were still bleeding when I finished, so the gauze likely needs changed,” you said. He lifted the blanket from his torso, peeling aside what was left of his suit to find two bandaged wounds, with—as you’d predicted—red-drenched gauze. He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t protest as you reached out and began to peel back the tape. After a minute or so of quietly working, he finally spoke again.

“You’re human,” he said.

You smiled down at his abdomen, not pausing your work. “Are enhanced deduction skills part of the wide cache of spider abilities? Because you are remarkably observant.”

You could feel his eyes on your profile, but you didn’t turn to face him, not even when he quietly finished his thought. “You’re the anomaly.”

“I was under the impression there were more than one,” you said, pressing down the last stretch of tape and pulling the blankets back over him.

“You’re the anomaly I let out,” he clarified.

“Ah,” you said, standing and walking to the sink to wash your hands. “So you must be the big man in charge. The one who ordered me to be stolen from my bed.”

“There is much more—”

“I know,” you said, turning back towards him, hands braced behind you on the counter. “It has been explained to me plenty. My father was from another dimension and never should have jumped into mine and knocked up my mom, and I never should have been born.” He watched you as you spoke, scanning your face for any sort of malice, but you merely shrugged. “Wish I could have told my mom that’s why he flaked.”

“You’re not upset?” he asked.

“And who would I be upset at besides him? You?”

The man simply blinked at you, hand mindlessly reaching to brush his abdomen, the expanse of skin you’d just bandaged. The carefully stitched wounds answered the question of any lingering resentment towards your captors.

“It would be natural to hate—your circumstances,” he said eventually.

You turned back towards the counter, quietly putting away your supplies. “You should rest until the end of the week.”

“That’s not—”

“In bed for the next two days, and no missions until the stitches come out.”

“But I have en—”

“Enhanced healing. Believe me, I’ve heard it a thousand times,” you said, finally tuning to face him. “But like it or not, you’re still just as human as I am.”

“I’m only half as human as you are,” he said, and it was the clearest he’d spoken since he’d woken up. At the slight flash of fangs with the lift of his lips, you understood why.

🕷

The next morning, you found him fast asleep where you’d left him. It was more instinct than choice, your gut churning with curiosity, that led you to slowly reach out your hand and pull up the right side of his lip, confirming you hadn’t in fact been hallucinating. He had fangs. Before you could pull away, his hand shot up and caged your wrist before his face as his eyes waned open.

“I have to ask,” you started.

“No, I’m not a vampire,” he said, keeping your wrist in his grip, his voice deadpan, as if he’d answered this question a million times before.

“What are you then?” you asked, pulling your hand from his.

“Half spider.”

You lifted your eyebrows. “A spider bite made you half spider?” you asked, but he simply stared. You could tell by the low drop of his brow that he’d already told you more than he would have liked, so you simply turned away, prepping your space for whatever spiders might come through your station that day.

It turned out to be a slow day. Only two spiders came through, both needing minimal attention, and you sent them on their way about as quickly as they’d turned up. And the whole time, you felt a set of red, half-lidded eyes watching you. You would occasionally slip over to his bed to redress his wounds, answering negative to his questions of leaving. “Bed rest until the end of the day,” you said after the second spider had left. “And then I’ll fit you with some crutches and help you to your room.”

“I don’t need crutches.”

“What you don’t need is that attitude,” you said, lifting your eyes to his. “Or else I’ll send you home without a sucker.”

He tilted his head, entertaining your humor but never cracking a smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n. Y/l/n.”

He blinked at you as if he was familiar with the name, but all he said was, “Not Doctor Y/n Y/l/n?”

You clicked your tongue. “I was two years from being Dr. Y/l/n.”

He nodded down at his bandaged abdomen. “You seem like a doctor to me.”

“And you don’t seem half spider,” you said. “Appearances can be deceiving, Mister…”

“O’Hara. Miguel O’Hara.”

You nodded and turned back towards your station, beginning to slowly clean up for the day.

“I’m sorry,” he said, making you go still. “That you can’t be in your own universe.”

You turned back to look at him, offering a wry tilt of your lips. Not quite a smile. “That’s alright. I imagine you're similarly displaced for the sake of your noble mission. You just had the luxury of choice.”

“Would you have chosen to stay?” he asked, a sudden sharpness in his voice that made his fangs flash from behind his lips. “Knowing your universe was collapsing?”

“I didn’t say that,” you said, eyes narrowing at the sudden malice. You turned back towards your station, tucking supplies back into cabinets. “I guess I should thank you for letting me work in the med bay. I was losing my mind in that cell.”

“Don’t thank me for that,” he said. “Just makes me feel worse.”

You turned back towards him with a smile and a sucker held between your fingers. “Well, we wouldn’t want that.”

🕷

An hour or so later, when a spider with basic first aid training—a.k.a. the only kind of medic they’d had before you—came to relieve your shift, you helped Miguel out of bed and onto a set of crutches, carrying an armful of medical supplies behind him as he trudged to his room. If people stared at the sight of him limping, sucker in his mouth, they received a look from the man. You couldn’t see said look from behind him, but you could see the way it had people turning—occasionally running—away. 

Once you got to his room, he seemed annoyed at the way you slipped in behind him, but he said nothing as you laid out medical supplies on his nightstand. 

“You’ll want one of these in the morning and one with dinner for the pain,” you said, jingling the orange bottle you set down.

“Don’t need it,” he gruffed out.

“Alright, well then I imagine you don’t need help getting into bed,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

He leaned the crutches against the wall. “Now you’re catching on.”

You gestured to the bed beside you, stepping away so he had enough room to climb up onto it. It was slow, sliced up by the occasional grunt or half-swallowed gasp of pain, but he got up there, tugging the covers over himself.

“Bet you’re regretting that decision,” you said, and he only huffed. You took that moment of silence to look around the room. It was all black and gray angles, not a touch of personality anywhere. Not a picture frame or flower vase, no posters or art.

“You know, having some kind of general joy or cheer in your room might speed up your recovery,” you said, walking over to the window to peer out at the street below.

“Now you’re giving interior design advice?” he said, face half buried in the pillow. He was likely still groggy from the pain medicine you’d given him before.

“I’m just saying, maybe try getting a hobby or two,” you said, pulling the curtains on his window closed.

“My hobby is saving the multiverse,” he huffed out. You turned slowly from the window, eyebrows raised as you met his eyes.

“Was that—a joke?”

He huffed, turning over onto his side. “Good night.”

You started towards the door. “Oh, of course, you’re welcome, Mr. O’Hara. I was so happy to patch up your bloody wounds and gently tug you from the precipice of death. Saving such grateful spider people like yourself is truly my calling in life.”

You stopped before the door, hand lingering on the knob as you glanced back at his figure, curled away from you on the bed. He gruffed out something inaudible and you stepped closer.

“What was that?”

“Mujer implacable,¹” he cursed, before turning over just enough to meet your eyes. “Thank you, Doctor. Now get out of my room.”

You smiled and reached for the door. “Good night to you too, Miguel.”

🕷

It was midnight when Miguel woke up again. The dull buzz of the pain meds had worn off, and the sharp ache of his limbs pulled him sharply from sleep. And then, shortly after, the rumbling of his stomach had his feet hitting the floor.

He told himself he’d simply go to the cafeteria and grab something to eat, but it proved to be easier said than done. With a few curses muttered in Spanish, he sunk against the set of crutches you’d provided, letting out a breath at the sudden lack of pressure on his wounds.

When he made it to the cafeteria, he found it not empty, as he had been hoping. A singular figure was sitting in the corner of the room, the tray before her stacked neatly with various food. Of course. Of all the people to witness his shameful hobble into the cafeteria, it had to be you.

You glanced up as he entered, eyes going wide for a moment.

“You look like someone who didn’t take their pain meds,” you said, lips curling into a smile at the grunt he offered in response. You watched him fumbling with a vending machine around the awkward angle of his crutches and stood, crossing the room to come up beside him.

You didn’t wait for him to ask for help, you simply gestured before you, silently asking what he was trying to reach. He stared at you for a moment before nodding towards a pack of flamin’ hot cheetos. You fetched it for him with ease, before carrying it away from him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching as you sat back down at your seat and set his cheetos at the spot across from you. You didn’t respond, you simply watched him with raised brows, waiting. Eventually, he grunted out something in Spanish and joined you, grabbing a bottle of water on the way.

“What does mujer implacable mean?” you asked.

“What?”

“That’s what you called me.”

He ripped open his cheetos and sat back in his chair, watching you as he took the first bite. “Relentless woman.”

“Hm,” you said, smiling. He watched as you stood up and grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the counter, eyes narrowing as you sat back down and offered them to him.

“What are those for?”

“They keep you from getting cheeto dust on your fingers,” you said, smile growing as his eyes widened.

“Mujer brillante,²” he breathed, taking the chopsticks and ripping them open. Something adjacent to a pleased smile overtook his features as he sat back, chopsticks in hand. And then he seemed to remember who was talking to, and his smile flattened out.

“Why are you awake?” he asked.

“Oh, I was just crushed by the weight of endless, multiversal knowledge trying to fit within a mind only equipped to handle the existence of one, pondering the meaning of my birth without a clear place in a singular universe and a purpose only carved out by my own inability to accept my multiversal irrelevance.”

He blinked.

“Also, I’m an insomniac,” you said, and he shoveled another cheeto into his mouth. 

“I don’t think anomaly equals irrelevance,” he said, and he wasn’t quite sure if he believed it. You didn’t seem irrelevant though, and he was going off of that.

“Then what does it mean?” you asked, and there was no humor in your voice. No malice either. Just a sharp curiosity.

“It means that the universe is delicately balanced, and you, mujer implacable, are a wrecking ball.”

“So I’m relevant, just not in any of the good ways.”

He shook his head. “In your old life, maybe. But you can be whatever you like here. Relevant. Irrelevant. Whatever suits you.”

“I think I’d like a healthy middle,” you said.

“Midrelevant,” he said, almost smiling.

“Exactly.”

The conversation was sparse as you both ate, but something soft opened up before you within Miguel. You’d already seen him at his weakest, so he had no reason to hide from you. And as you helped him back to his room, he couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

🕷

Part 2

(1) “Relentless woman”

(2) “Brilliant woman”

[kairiscorner]

I totally forgot to put what character🤦🏽‍♀️ but could it be grumpy reader with Miguel or hobbie.  oh I thought of another good one maybe one about the reader getting treated like a baby because either Miguel or hobbies care so much about her( they’re dating reader)

AWWWW ykw i actually can't remember if i made a hobie x grumpy!reader one, imma do just that now :3 (should i make a miggy one, make a part 4 for the grumpy ready and miggy series~ ?)

hobie brown x grumpy!reader

"that pout looks so adorable on you, you're so cute, yes you are." hobie cooed to you, threading your hair through the in-betweens of his fingers and smirking to himself as you huffed in frustration, not wanting to deal with anybody today... yet still letting hobie baby you because you know, you like being tended to like this, despite it pissing you off even more–it's so hard not to feel needy for his one of a kind attention and affection. "go away, hobie." you murmured in a huff as hobie lightly pinched your cheek, and you slapped his hand away gently, making him chuckle. "can't ever hit me for real, can you, love? how charming... i'd never hurt you, either, but my pinching doesn't hurt, does it, dearest?" he asked you with a smile as he pinched both your cheeks–making you grumble and furrow your eyebrows up at him and his cocky, yet tender, babying.

you huffed and moved away from him, but he encages you in his tight grasp as he wraps his long arms around your waist and pulls you close to him; planting his chin on the top of your head and lowly chuckling how sweet and tiny you are in his arms. "so dainty... yet so aggressively angry. you like a chihuahua, love, ain't ya? so small, yet so feisty–making me crazier about you with that little quirk of yours, i love you, truly, you cutesy, angry little lover of mine..." "hobie, i'm gonna punch you." "try it, love, if it'll make you feel less cranky... bet it'd tickle, too, since your hands are so soft and plush..." he teased you with a chuckle as you got embarrassed; your frown deepening and your eyebrows knitting together even more as he held you tighter and peppered you with kisses.

you could be as grumpy as you needed to with him, and yet... he would still love you with all his heart, tease you and smirk down at you—and shower you with all his love and affection, because you're his grumpy little darling, and he would never let you go another second without knowing how much he loves you, no matter your mood.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @arachnoia @popeheywardssecretgf @euphovlq @rohansdisciple @conitagray

[sapphirerubydragon]

What am I thinking about?

The significance of photographs as symbolic conduits of love. Photos supposedly convey 1000 words and in Spiderverse they say what words won't.

Photography is a traditional part of Spiderman iconography. Peter Parker is conventionally recognized as a photographer at The Daily Bugle. We get this even in the form of LEGO Peter Parker in ATSV. Capturing photos in order to document for the news and make a living because well, Spiderman can't make money from saving the city. Sure, we have variations like Holland's who does some videography but The Daily Bugle photographer is pretty typical.

In Into the Spiderverse we have Peter B. Parker looking at a photo of MJ in Peter (1610's) hideout. There's so much yearning and longing because he and his MJ are yet to make up concerning their marriage but he clearly can't stop thinking about her and eventually resolves to make it work.

Later in the film we have Gwen cherishing the memento on her cellphone of her and Miles from the bus to Hudson. This photo becomes a pivotal motif throughout the next film. It helps her to feel more convicted and less alone as Spiderwoman. Propels her when she can't get back to Miles. It is so important to her that she prints it out so that she has a physical photo. It's kept in her drumset which holds her dearest belongings and it's the only thing she comes to reacquire after her expulsion from the Spider society. She prioritizes claiming this photo over seeing her own father. (We know why).

We've got Miles equally pining about the gulf separating him and Gwen documenting her image through his drawings. This is a cathartic pastime, and it also helps him to remember her face since he doesn't have any images with him like she does. His replication then of her image is how he channels his affection, admiration and loneliness. He draws all the friends he misses but having drawn Gwen many more times its quite clear how he feels about her.

We've got Gwen's Peter using his camera to document not only Gwen but her alterego Ghost Spider, foreshadowing our discovery that Peter has known for a long time that Gwen and Spiderwoman are one and the same and he wants to be special like her. And he loves her, all of her. Or so he thinks.

Lastly, we have Miguel who revisits images and videos of his daughter because he has lost her to eternity. The pain, guilt and grief he shoulders are immense but he claims that he doesn't always like what he has to do and I believe he is carrying out a lot of his actions concerning the multiverse in the name of his daughter.

Photos or drawings - all require attention to detail to capture essence adequately and after the act provide a concrete mode of connection when there's physical distance.

Longing, yearning, loneliness. The need for focus on a cause. Reminiscence. Unconditional, unfiltered love. The reasons for these sacred images overlap and give the films even more emotional resonance.

There are more instances of course. Images are also used in the film for surveillance for example, as shown in my first image. But I wanted to focus on this use in this post. Looking forward to the significance of Gwen's Polaroid in particular in BTSV.

[kissitbttr]

Omg hi! It's me again sufjdjs so I have a personal Hc on our dearest Miguel! And I could totally see frat Miguel doing this the most! If you have long hair I could def see him wearing your scrunchie or hair tie like a bracelet, like he doesn't give a fuck if it looks girly on him, it's his girl's and he's wearing it with pride! Graaahh! He'd definitely wear it because you might need it one day when you didn't tie your hair and it's too hot and! And! He'd wear it so that girls who wanted to ask him out can see the pink/white colored scrunchie on his arms and they'll be like "oh yeah, that man definitely has a girl, nvm 🚶🏻‍♀️"

Imagine him asking reader that for the first time if he could have one of her scrunchies ahuhuhu I love him sooo much 😩🩷🩷

GODDDD HE WOULD BE SUCH A SUCKER FOR THAT!!!

“Miguel?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you have pink flower scrunchie?” You ask in a hard tone as you stare down at the elastic band around his wrist. Thinking that it might be belong to some other girl and he had forgotten to remove it,

He wide eyed, “oh, this?” He smiles, inspecting the pretty scrunchie. “I bought it. For you.”

“For me..?”

“Yeah. You have a long hair muñeca and you tend to forget to bring a hair tie so i bought one, just in case.” He shrugs, giving you a proud grin. “You like it? Because i was confused which one to get. There’s the Kuromi one and i know how much you love the character but then Beck told me—“

His words die down after that. Simply because you just find yourself staring at him with much love and adoration. Heart pondering and all the butterflies stuff that people often talk about in books.

He did that… for you?

“Fuck” He notices you aren’t saying anything and his smile falls. “You didn’t like it. God! I knew I should’ve gotten the Kuromi one! I knew it. Why the hell did i listen to Beck?!”

“Oh my god, no! No, Miggy!” You put a hand to stop him, smiling softly at him as your fingers move around his hand, toying with the fabric. “I love it! It’s so cute! I can’t believe you did that”

“Well i-“ He rubs the back of his neck and you don’t miss the way he blushes. “It’s nothing really. Besides, i heard that’s what boyfriends supposed to do”

Oh your heart is about to leap out of your chest,

“Awe” You stand on your tippy toes and give him a peck on the lips. “So thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

“It also helps when girls try to come up to me and ask me out. All i gotta do is flick the wrist” You almost got yourself a heart attack at how fast he whips his wrist. “And tell them ‘not a chance. i am taken’ “

“That or i could cut off my bra strap and you can wear it as a bracelet.” You shrug, the corner of your lip twitch into a smile when his brows scrunch into a thought.

“Wait… That’s a great idea! Give me your pink and blue one, muñeca. I’ll cut it off right now”

[guilty-pleasures21]

The heretic princess

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Warnings: none.

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

     Your eyes scan the words on the page, reading and re-reading the letter your dearest friend had sent you. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe you should just go home and- You gasp as the letter is snatched out of your hand, then you turn to glare at the culprit. “Hey-”

     “Are you going to continue pining over his letter or are you going to do something about it?” The High Priestess fixes you with a challenging look, giving you a moment to consider her words. It had been three months since you’d arrived at the Temple, spirited away by your supporters who would see you seated on the throne beside Miguel - not some spoiled and senseless daughter of a common man who had somehow worked his way into the Royal Court. Of course you had protested - questioned how you could possibly turn your friend's affections towards you when he couldn't even see you! But the best way for Miguel to develop feelings for you was by forcing him to miss you; forcing him to understand how much you truly meant to him. That was what the Head Priestess had said anyway. 

     “Your pen and paper will only be able to hold his attention for so long,” she continues, pulling a fresh sheet of paper out of your drawer. “We must continue your training if you are to win his affections and become Queen.” 

     You sigh as she sets the blank page before you. “How am I to win his affections if he cannot even see me?!”

     Iset frowns disapprovingly at your raised voice. You were fourteen now: much too old to be throwing tantrums over a boy you liked. Especially considering that the boy in question was to be King one day. You would have to comport yourself much more elegantly if you were to convince the Prince that you would make a fine bride for him - the only bride for him. She folds her arms across her chest, maintaining her stern expression. “He will see you when he can bear it no longer. When he has fallen in love with your mind and your words are no longer enough for him.”

     Your brows furrow in confusion. “But … how will I know?”

     Iset raises her eyebrows, giving you a knowing look. “Because he will make sure that you do.” 

     Your stomach flips at her words and you turn back to your desk to begin crafting your reply.

     Miguel tapped his fingers on the table, bored. He was quickly growing tired of the favour his mother insisted on showering upon the Lady Dina - the oldest daughter of one of her good friends. It was obvious to everyone that she was pushing for their marriage, but there was absolutely no way he would marry someone who was so … so silly! Yes, she was beautiful, but he’d quickly discovered that it wasn’t enough to hold his attention. The girl thought of nothing besides her looks and her clothes and her jewellery, what support could she possibly provide him once he became King? He rose out of his seat, drawing everyone’s gazes his way. 

     “I will retire to my chambers now,” he informed the room. “Thank you all for being here tonight.”

     He could hear his mother gasp and hiss at Lady Dina to follow after him, so he picked up his pace, marching out of the room before he could be sucked into another inane conversation. He slowed down as he approached his chambers, relaxing once he was safely away from all the eligible ladies his mother had selected to become his next queen. Well, maybe not his queen, but someone respectable enough to carry his seed and birth his heir - that was the more important thing right now. 

     “My Prince.” Miguel stopped in front of his door as a messenger approached him, bowing low in greeting. “You have received a letter.” 

     His heart sped up as he took the scroll from the messenger’s hands. Only one person’s letters were delivered straight to his private chamber, no matter the time. He rushed into his rooms, unfurling the scroll and setting it down on his desk. 

     ‘My dearest Miguel,’ you’d written, ‘I am glad to hear that you have almost caught up to me with regards to your linguistic education. Perhaps I should take on another language myself?’ 

     Gods, he could practically see your face, your lips curling into a mischievous smile as you teased him. He and Kai had tried to sneak into the temple a few times to see you, but the terrifying Head Priestess had always caught them and sent them marching back home, heads bowed in defeat. Did you look much the same? Or had you grown in the last two years, just as he had? Would your body be more filled out the next time he saw you, your curves more pronounced? It wasn’t something he’d ever considered before, but now that he’d matured, he couldn’t help the thought from crossing his mind. 

     ‘Although being in the Temple does not give me much opportunity to socialise, I have worked on my charm wherever I can, even coaxing a snicker out of that grumpy old priestess I had told you everyone was terrified of!’

     He chuckled at that. You had always been a charmer, lighting up every room you entered with your warm and friendly smile. It had served you well in overcoming the legacy your family had left you: the last true Royal, niece of the deposed ‘Heretic Queen’. You had been orphaned at such a young age and then taken in by the new king who had taken over the throne - his grandfather. And how easy it had been for you to win their hearts, you with your sweet smile and your thoughtful kindness and your humble intelligence.

     ‘I must be sure to thank Kai for looking after you when you are training out in the desert. I would not be able to stand it if anything were to happen to you, my darling duckie.’

     He could feel his heart flutter at the tender term of endearment you had attached to his childhood nickname. You’d never addressed him in such a manner when you’d still been in the palace, but you’d started showering your letters with them, always referring to him as your darling, your dearest, yours. He wondered what the words would sound like in your voice, your warm smile aimed at him and him alone as you stretched up to run your fingers through his hair. 

     ‘I cannot believe that your coronation is approaching so quickly! I know in my heart that you will make a fair and just king, one who will be remembered by history for his wisdom. And I am sure that the woman you choose to stand by your side will make an excellent queen to our people. But I do also hope, my dearest duckie, that she will be a fulfilling companion for you as well. Someone who matches your clever wit and with whom you can entrust all your secrets, share all your burdens. And you know, my darling friend, that you will always have my support in whatever decision you take, no matter the circumstance. Yours, Y/N’

     Miguel sighed and sank back into his seat at the reminder. An excellent queen to her people. Someone who would know how to charm visiting emissaries and make them comfortable enough to spill all their secrets to her … He pursed his lips as he ran a finger over your elegant script. The woman he would choose … A fulfilling companion, someone who would support him in every decision he would make, who would share his burdens so that he would never have to shoulder them alone. His gaze fell to the word you’d written before your name: your promise that you were his … Then he took out his stylus and began writing his response. 

     You rush out of your room and into the hallway, the scroll clutched tightly in your hand like some sort of precious treasure. But to you, it was a treasure: a confirmation that the goal you had been working towards for the past two years was finally coming to fruition. The Head Priestess had been right after all. You stop when you see her making her way towards you with equal frenzy, a matching scroll fluttering in her elegant fingers.

     “Princess!” she exclaims, rushing down the hallway. “I have just received a letter from the Prince himself! He has specifically requested your presence at his coronation next week. And at the celebrations after!” 

     Her eyes are wide with surprise, but her lips curl at the ends in victory. All the head priests and priestesses of the temples surrounding the capital were required to attend the coronation and recognise the new king on behalf of each of the Gods and Goddesses of the pantheon, so it was not customary for the Prince to send a letter reaching out to the temples personally. Unless there was something - or someone - he wanted there specifically. You hurry forward, closing the distance between the two of you. 

     “Yes! I have received his letter as well! He said …” Your stomach flips as you recall his words; his passionate plea for you to return to the palace and be by his side once again. You straighten, remembering all your training on how to carry yourself if you are to be Queen - when you are Queen. “He said that he requests my presence not just as my future king, but also as my best friend.”

     Iset narrows her eyes as her mind begins running through all the items you will need to pack for your trip back home. 

     “Hmm, yes.” You watch her carefully, waiting for her response. Finally, she spins on her heel and starts marching back down the hallway. “Come. We have much to prepare.”