#probably gonna set this before atsv too

[iobartach]

man out of time

universe: marvel [Earth-616]

verse name: fear as am

Description: Miguel is stranded in present day New York!

"Seriously?! After everything I've gone through, this is how I die? A lucky shot from a sniper in the middle of nowhere?"

[bit-dodgy-innit]

We're Not Here to F*ck Spiders

Summary: You were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel took a special interest in you. He wanted to know if your life would correspond with his and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. After an offhanded comment about reviewing your canon with Miguel outside of headquarters, your relationship with Spider-Man 2099 is forever changed.

Set in between ITSV and ATSV.

Pairing: Marc x OC Female!Reader

For context, Reader is an alternate, grown-up version of Mayday due to personal reasons (personal reasons being I’ve been obsessed with Mayday Parker since I was baby child)! No real use of Y/N, though Miguel does refer to the reader as "May" twice and Peter Parker nicknamed her Mayhem. Peter B.'s daughter is Mayday.

Word Count: 10.2k words (see why this took me forever?!)

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI!!

CW/TW: An obscene amount of world-building, parents and kids fighting, mentions of a loss of a child, everyone being hot for Miguel, rough-ish sex (both partners are superheroes, come on), our boy is HUNG, dirty talk, a bit of cocky dom!Miguel, oral f!receiving, a lil bit of both m and f!receiving nipple play, PIV sex, riding, a quick spank, creampie, felching, and perhaps most intense of all, Miguel’s fear of commitment.

A/N: hahahahahaha this movie is nearly a year old and I FINALLY got around to writing a fic for it! Trust that I've been working on this on and off for a while now, but life has been nuts and writing more and more for work (yay!) but wanted to get this out while I had a slow week for everyone to enjoy!

Also, due to more personal reasons, my HC for Reader's parents are Peter and Mary Jane from Sam Raimi's masterpiece in 2002. But no presh if that doesn't jibe with ya!

I MADE A PLAYLIST FOR THIS FIC AND I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE PROUD OF ANYTHING

“Careful, Mayday!” you fondly called after the child who was literally bouncing off the cavernous walls of HQ. Yeesh, were you this energetic when you were her age? Probably. It never ceased to be weird, hanging out with an alternate baby version of yourself, but you could manage if you pretended she was your little niece, or sister, or something like that. 

The alternate baby version of Mayday Parker in question didn’t heed your admonishment at all (which tracked), so you called again, “Oh noooo…I’m gonna have to come up there and get ya!���

Mayday squealed in delight at your “threat” and only zipped around quicker. However, you had a couple decades on her, so your reflexes were more attuned. It didn’t take long for you to capture her in your grasp and tickle her. However, little Mayday wasn’t going to give up that easily. She squirmed out of your hold and began scaling the nearby wall at a dizzying pace. 

“Okay, missy, let’s settle down,” you announced, shooting a web to meet the infant on the platform she’d crawled onto. You continued to speak as you swung, “you know how Miguel is, we can’t get too carried…away.”

You nearly threw yourself back off the platform when you were met with the sight of Miguel himself standing before you holding May. 

“Oh, hi,” you gestured to the squirming girl in his hands, “thanks. I was right behind her.” 

“What am I like?” He asked, an inquisitive arch in his brow. 

“You’re…you run a tight ship that’s all,” you wished a portal would swallow you whole. “And it’s great! We need it.”

“Are you supposed to be anywhere?” Miguel prodded further as he passed you May. 

“Me? No, it's my day off.”

“Then why are you here?” 

“Because you put Peter B. on a mission and it gives me anxiety when he takes her.” 

“You and me both,” he huffed. 

“That being said, anything I can help you with?”

“Yeah actually, I have new sequencing to go over with you.” 

Though the multiverse was ever-expanding, you were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel had taken a special interest in you. Since you were a second generation Spider, Miguel wanted to know if your life would correspond with his, your dad’s, and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. You initially found the whole concept fascinating, yet that interest waned pretty quickly when Miguel informed you that he was going to have Lyla analyze your entire life and have you expound on your experiences so he could compare you to the other Spiders. 

Not that there was anything you were particularly ashamed of, but some of this stuff was embarrassing. Unlike baby Mayday, whose powers had already emerged, yours didn’t make an appearance until puberty. Reviewing your awkward teen years wasn’t exactly your ideal way of spending time with an unfairly hot guy, let alone the head of Spider Society.  

“Oh okay, yeah,” you replied. “When Peter gets ba—“

“MAYDAY! WHERE’S MY PUMPKIN?” Peter’s voice echoed across the room. 

No sooner had Peter spoken did Mayday websling herself off of the platform and into her father’s arms. 

Shit, there went your excuse. A nervous chuckle escaped you, “Convenient.” 

“Sí. Follow me.”

You did as Miguel said and trailed behind him to his…office didn’t quite describe it. Work station? Lair? You lasted all of forty-five seconds before your gaze dropped to his sculpted backside, a new record for you. 

It really was unfair that the intense, ornery leader of the Spider Society had to be so damn fine. You were a superhero and a consummate professional, but at the end of the day, you were a mostly heterosexual human woman with eyes. Miguel was stupidly sexy. His shoulder-to-waist ratio, that chiseled face, and of course, perfectly round ass had been the topic of a few hushed, giggly conversations between you and the other Spiders that liked boys. 

It was only ever cheeky whispers however. All of you knew better than to catch any real feelings for Miguel. One, it was majorly inappropriate. And two, he’d built emotional walls higher than the tallest skyscrapers in Nueva York. 

Still, your mind couldn’t help but wander every now and then…you blamed it on your latest breakup. Spider-Girl duties had yet again claimed another potential partner. You suspected that was the reason it was more and more difficult not to fantasize about Miguel lately. Like sure, he was probably an animal in bed in the best way, but it was the prospect of not having to hide anything from him that appealed to you even more. 

“Lyla, bring up the latest sequencing,” Miguel ordered. 

If it weren’t for your spider-senses, you would’ve collided with his impossibly cut back, you were so deep into your thirsty thoughts. 

Suddenly, you were back on Earth-982A in your childhood bedroom. Or at least, that’s where you appeared to be. The virtual surroundings would’ve been comforting if it weren’t for the particular event that Miguel had wanted to revisit. 

Your father was forbidding you to use your powers. Again. You gazed at the rendering of your teenage self with compassion. Now, your father was fully supportive of you following in his footsteps, but the journey there had been rough. 

“You know, most parents would be happy if their kid wanted to do something to help the world!” 

Your dad scoffed. “That doesn’t matter - I’m not most parents and you’re not most kids!”

“Yeah and whose fault is that?!” Virtual you fired back. “I was born like this because of you! Dad, you’re always telling me that ‘with great power, comes great responsibility’ and now when I discover I inherited that great power, I can’t use it!?” 

“Pause,” Miguel’s voice spooked you back into the present. When you finally shook yourself from the memory that was playing before you, you found his eyes on yours. “Okay, there. Define ‘always’.”

“Quantitatively?” 

“Preferably.” 

“That’s impossible.” 

“Qualitatively, then.” 

“I mean, it's one of those things he said so much that I can’t remember the first time I heard it.” 

“When did your dad first hear it?” 

“His Uncle Ben told him during their last conversation together.” 

“Checks out. And how old was he?” 

“He was a senior in high school, so like seventeen, eighteen?” 

Miguel nodded. Even though x-ray vision nor telepathy weren’t in your powerset, you could practically see all the comparisons and calculations he was making in his head. 

“So using your powers to help people, that was your instinct when you inherited your abilities.”

“Yeah.” 

Miguel nodded again. 

“It’s different, isn’t it?” you asked him. He didn’t reply. “My dad told me he entered some god awful cage-match-wrestling-thing to get enough money to buy a car and impress my mom before he officially became Spider-Man.” 

Miguel was seemingly too busy with entering his latest data to respond. Instead, he barked at Lyla, “Resume sequence.” 

The holographic version of your dad lurched back to life to argue, “May, you are my great responsibility! So if I say no powers, no powers! I did this a lot longer than you! ” 

Tears streamed down your adolescent face. Thankfully, you’d lost some of the baby fat since.  “I hate you! I HATE YOU DAD!!” 

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. This wasn’t easy to live, let alone re-live. So, as a Spider, naturally you made a jaunty, off-handed comment. “Wow, you really know how to show a girl a good time.” 

“Qué?” 

“Nothing.” He fixed you with his signature scowl so you elaborated, “Seriously, nothing. Though, maybe if we did this in an environment where I had access to alcohol and carbs, this would be less um…less unsettling for me.”

Miguel stared at you blankly. “But the simulator is here.”

“Right, of course.” Ughhhh, why was he so damn pretty?! “Forget I said anything, Miguel.” 

He dropped it, but before the simulation could start again, your gizmo beeped. Benji’s basketball game started in twenty. 

“Actually, sorry, I have to go.” 

“But we just got started.” 

“I know, but I haven’t been able to catch one of my little brother’s games yet this season, and it’s almost the playoffs.”

“Won’t he under–”

You interrupted Miguel. “You realize spider-stuff is not a viable excuse with my family, right? Besides, it’s my day off. I’m only here out of the goodness of my own heart and my commitment to the Spider-Society.” 

He rolled his eyes at your remark, but couldn’t help a little half - nay, quarter - smile from forming across the lips you had fantasized about kissing one too many times. “Things are quiet for once. We should knock this out now.” 

“We should,” you conceded as you created a portal, “but trying to have some semblance of work-life balance is Spider-Girl canon.”

And with that, you hopped back into your world, before you could change your mind or say anything else stupid and/or unintentionally flirty to Miguel. 

You re-appeared in your apartment with just enough time to throw on clothes and swing over to the middle school. Your mom was waiting as you hurried into the gym right as Benji and the other players were taking the court. 

“Look who made it,” MJ observed wryly. 

“Ha ha,” you fired back humorlessly, but pulled your mom into a hug all the same. “Where’s Dad?”

The ref’s whistle signaled tip off and the beginning of the game, momentarily distracting you two. You were thrilled to see Benji starting – he really wanted to make JV when he started high school next year, and this was a step in the right direction. 

“Go Benji!!” MJ cheered before answering your question, “He hit traffic coming from the station. He’ll be here soon.” 

Your collective attention was pulled to the game unfolding in front of you, then MJ asked, “What have you been up to today?” 

“Me? I was at the society for a bit, helping with the baby.”

You didn’t need to see your mother to know that she tensed at the mention of the Spider-Society and Peter B.’s Mayday. It, understandably, weirded her out. 

“How can it not be strange to care for–”

“It would be if we were closer in age,” you pointed out. “But it’s just like babysitting with Mayday right now. And trust me, after all the versions of Dad I’ve met, hanging out with little me is nothing.” 

Despite being weirded out, your mom always tried to empathize, so she switched gears. “Anything interesting happen?” 

“Ugh, just more sequencing with Miguel - today was a tough one.”

“Why?”

“Fights with Dad from years ago that I know we’ve moved past, but still suck to watch.” 

Your mom took your hand in hers, a much-needed grounding gesture. “Well, you’re back in the present, in your corner of the universe now, sweetie.” 

You gave her hand an appreciative squeeze and took her words to heart, focusing on the basketball game in front of you. It didn’t take too long to put the earlier events from headquarters behind you – Benji scored a couple baskets and you took it upon yourself to meticulously document the game on your phone for memories and possible future blackmail. 

When your Dad did join you and MJ, you couldn’t help but hug him tightly. You buried your face into his coat, which smelled like a mix of smoke from the streets and his aftershave. 

It was Peter’s mix of spider and paternal instincts that prompted him to ask, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” you assured him, giving him some space. “I just–I love you, Dad.” 

“Love you too, Mayhem.” Where Mayday was Peter B’s moniker for his daughter, Mayhem was your dad’s nickname for you.

The game ended in victory for Benji’s team, the Midtown Mavericks, and you three waited for the youngest member of the Parker family to emerge from the locker room. 

Benji’s face when he saw you made any lingering discomfort you had leaving Miguel one thousand percent worth it. “You made it!” 

“Wouldn’t miss it!” you pulled Benji into a hug - however reluctant he was to it since he was a ~teenager~ now. “Dude, you put up points tonight!” 

But Benji had gotten distracted, so instead of responding to you, he murmured “Woah, that guy is swole.” 

You turned around to see who he was talking about and your jaw nearly hit the floor. 

It was Miguel. 

Even more incredibly, he was in civilian clothes. It wasn’t until you witnessed him in dark wash jeans, a henley, and a well-worn bomber jacket that you realized that you’d actually never seen Miguel in anything other than his spider suit. 

He called your name and you acknowledged him with a wave, flabbergasted. Even more astonished that you knew this very attractive hunk of man was your brother, “Wait, you know him?!”

“We work together,” you said quietly. 

“At the paper?” Benji was confused. 

“No, at my other job.” 

“Oh,” it clicked for him. “That makes sense. Man, I hope I get that jacked when I get my powers.” 

“Shhhh, be cool Benji,” you urged him. 

“Um, I’m not the one you have to worry about,” he harrumphed. “Oh shit, you like him.”

Though there was more than a decade between you and Benji, your little brother was still your little brother.  “No! He’s the head of the Spider-Society and he’s–you’ll see.” 

You took a step forward to greet Miguel before anyone else from your family could get to him. “Hey! What’re you doing here?” 

“I wanted to finish our work today, and since it’s your day off, I decided to come to you.” 

“Miguel O’Hara making a compromise? How not canon. Wonder how big of a hole that’s gonna tear in the multiverse.” 

“Shut up,” he ordered you playfully. 

“Miguel, good to see you!” Your dad strode over and pulled the younger spider-man into a handshake. 

“You too, Dr. Parker.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how oddly deferential Miguel was with your dad. He’d met Peter first, when he was establishing the Arachnohumanoid Polymultiverse. Miguel was stunned to discover that this Peter was not only retired, but had a full-grown daughter who’d taken up his crime-fighting mantle. Apparently your dad’s canon was particularly important and central to the greater Spiderverse, which meant Miguel would pester you with questions about him constantly. 

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked, “You don’t usually make house calls.” 

Before Miguel could explain, an elbow nearly sent you into careening into his broad chest. Mom. 

“Miguel, this is my mom, Mary Jane.” 

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker,” Miguel dutifully offered his hand to her. 

“The pleasure is mine,” your mom gushed, “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Benji was right. He was not the person you had to be worried about. A rip in the multiverse to swallow you whole would be rather convenient right about now. 

Miguel’s brow creased. “You have?”

“She hasn’t,” you intervened. “Like two or three things in passing, max. Promise I haven’t broken my NDA or you know, the superhero code of secrecy or anything.” 

Mercifully, Miguel let it slide for the time being. He turned to your brother. “And you must be Benji.” 

“Yeah,” Benji confirmed, doing a terrible job of pitching his voice lower. “‘Sup, bro.” 

Jesus Christ. At this point, you were ready to rip the fabric of reality yourself to end this. 

“Congrats on the win. Hate to do this, but I need to steal your sister for a bit.” 

“No problem, I know she’s fine with it.” Perhaps Benji needed a reminder regarding which sibling had the super powers. “Also, what’s your workout–”

“Well, as fun as this all is, we should probably get back to work.”

Your family didn’t put up much of a fight – thank God – as pleasantries were exchanged and you and Miguel took off. You hoped Miguel didn’t catch when your mother mouthed “So handsome!!” to you as everyone said their goodbyes. Finally, it was just the two of you walking down East 36th Street. 

“Sorry about them,” you began. 

He looked at you, puzzled. “Why?” 

“My family. Embarrassing.” 

“They’re not embarrassing. They’re…they’re nice,” there was pain behind Miguel’s eyes. “It’s interesting. Your brother hasn’t experienced any spider-abilities, has he?” 

“No,” you confirmed. “Not yet.”

You two slowed to stop on the corner. Miguel looked at you expectantly. “So, where to?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You said you wanted to do this in an environment where you ‘had access to alcohol and carbs’.” 

“Oh! Right. Hmmm, where are we?” you looked up at the cross streets above you. “36th and 3rd? I know a place.” 

You took Miguel to a little hole-in-the-wall Italian spot nearby. Since it was so close to Benji’s school and your old middle and high school, you had spent many a week night at their tables, either working on homework or chowing down after basketball practice. 

Therefore, the staff knew you – it was a family owned spot, you’d basically grown up with the owner’s children, Maria and Chris. Though you graduated from Midtown Charter a looong time ago, they still took care of you. Maria had even let you use their first aid kit once, no questions asked, after a nasty Spider-Girl skirmish nearby. You didn’t suspect she knew anything, but even if she did, you could trust Maria to be discreet. 

At least, you thought you could trust Maria, but when she showed you and Miguel to your table, and Miguel made a pit stop at the restroom, she very indiscreetly asked, “Daaaamn, girl. He your boyfriend? Because you–”

“No!”

“You getting dicked down by him?” 

“No!” 

“Can I get dicked down by him? He single? Does he like the ladies?” 

“Maria, he’s a colleague. Actually, he’s my superior. So no…unfortunately, no.” 

Maria cackled with delight. “That’s a pen worth sticking in your company ink. I’ll bring you some garlic bread.”

“And a glass of red wine,” you added. “no, a bottle.”

“That’s my girl!” 

In theory, you had thought that reviewing sequencing outside of headquarters would’ve been less awkward, but in reality, it was more so. You couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of Miguel in normal clothes, the intimacy of having a meal together when usually your interactions were so sterile and professional, plus there was a little voice in your head screaming that THIS WAS BASICALLY A DATE on repeat.

“So should we pick up where we left off?” Miguel asked. The question brought you back down to Earth. Despite that little persistent voice in your head oohing and ahhing at him, it was clear that Miguel didn’t think this was a date. This dinner was a means to end, nothing more. 

“Let me get a little wine drunk first,” you bargained. 

“Yeah, but you have sped-up metabolism, so that’ll take at least–” 

“That was a joke. Miguel, when was the last time you went out to dinner?” 

He seemed to truly consider the question, then, “I don’t know.” 

You’d never heard Miguel say those three words in that order before. 

“I promise you I will go over my cringe teen years with you, but can we eat some garlic bread and not get drunk off this very nice bottle of wine first?” 

“You’re worse than Lyla,” his eyes narrowed. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“She’s always trying to get me to take breaks.”

“You should! There’s only so much self-flagellation a human can take, even if they’re a superhero.” 

Miguel’s response was a very inarticulate grumble. Maria dropped off the wine, bread, and took your order. You didn’t know what was more insane – the amount of food Miguel ordered or how unabashedly Maria was ogling him. 

“Let me guess, Lyla’s the one who suggested the field trip to my home dimension?”

Another grumble, this one in the affirmative. 

“Classic,” you remarked with a snort before taking a gulp from your glass. “I love that your AI is smarter than you.” 

“Of course she is, she can access all of the multiverse’s knowledge in a nano-second.’

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?” 

“Can we not talk about me for a second?” 

“Why?” 

“Because…because, I don't know, I was hoping doing this in a more casual environment would–it’d make it feel more like a conversation.” 

“We are having a conversation.” 

“Jeez, Miguel,” you took another sip of wine. “It’s not easy digging through my past like this. A lot of the time it feels more like an interrogation.” 

“Ah.” 

“Yeah. And don’t get me wrong, I want to help you, help the Spider-Society, but the one-sidedness of this is exhausting.”

“Exhausting.” He sounded dubious. 

“You know what? Forget it. I’ll take care of the bill and see you tomorrow, and we can go back to reviewing the sequencing like we normally do. I should know better than to complain to you.” 

Miguel looked at you if your words had stung him. “You can complain to me.” 

“No, I can’t,” you disputed. “You’re the most self-sacrificing Spider out of any of us–which is really saying something, by the way–and I feel lame talking about my feelings with you.”

“And that’s why our reviews feel like interrogations,” he was putting it together. 

“Yeah. Sorry to drag you out of HQ.”

Miguel scrutinized you with a long, unreadable look before announcing, “I’m not leaving before I have my bolognese.”

You didn’t know whether to smile or scream. Miguel may have lacked the traditional spidey precognitive sense, and the signature spider sense of humor, but he definitely had the stubbornness you all seemed to possess. 

You shot him a sidelong glare. “Why did you come here?” 

“I told you - I wanted to finish sequencing and Lyla suggested coming to you.” 

“But you didn’t have to take her suggestion.”

Miguel’s large frame shifted in the chair that suddenly appeared too small for him. “Like you said, she’s smarter than me, so I did. And yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve gone out to dinner.”

You didn’t know how to react to that. Right before the silence became intolerable, Miguel spoke again, “You still with that gu–’

“No.” The last thing you wanted to talk about with Miguel was your failed relationship with Gene, and you’d once discussed the correlation of getting your first period could’ve had with your powers emerging with him.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I mean, you get it.”

Miguel at last took a sip from his glass. “All too well.” 

“The price of being a hero, right?” you sent him a small, sympathetic smile across the table. “Or at least that’s what I tell myself.” 

“Your parents seemed to have figured it out,” he pointed out. 

“Well, that took like decades, and according to you, they’re canon, right? So it was meant to be. I guess that’s one of the comforts of having a canon-confirmed soulmate.” 

“Yeah, if you're Peter Parker.” 

Your heart sank at the implication. “So that means if a Spider isn’t Peter we’re meant to die alone?” 

“I don’t know,” Miguel’s eyes were averted. “Maybe only if you’re a Miguel O’Hara.” 

“Stop, you could get anyone in this restaurant to sleep with you,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Our waitress has to resist climbing on top of you whenever she passes the table.”

He swatted away the implication as if it were a pest. “That’s different.”

“You know, it might help with the stress.”

“What?”

“Letting someone climb on top of you.”

Miguel glared at you, “Don’t.”

“See? It’s not fun being on the other side of the questions,” you smirked. Your conversation was briefly suspended when Maria returned with your entrees. After thanking her, you refocused back on Miguel, “Can I ask you something else?”

“No.”

“DADA!” A child, who couldn’t have been more than three, screeched happily from a neighboring table. 

Miguel froze. For the first time in the several months that you’d known him, you saw his face soften. The warmth that filled his eyes at the sight of the toddler was undeniable. The fond expression hardened back into his stoic facade within an instant, yet Miguel couldn’t fully conceal the anguish that clearly still haunted him. He never could. 

“Sorry,” you said softly. 

He shook off your condolences. “What’d you want to ask me?” 

“Have you tried seeing anyone after…” it felt forbidden to say Gabriella’s name out loud. 

“What’s the point?” Miguel shrugged. “I don’t have the time, even if I wanted to.” 

“Right,” you hedged. 

Eventually, you and Miguel were able to find things to talk about outside of work and your respective traumas. You compared notes on the lamest villain you’d each encountered rounding up anomalies, discussed the idea of a nursery for spider-babies, or as Miguel insisted on calling them, “second-generation Spiders” – Peter couldn’t keep taking his kid on missions, plus Jessica Drew had just learned she was expecting – you even got Miguel to open up about his teenage days some. 

“Makes sense you were a rebel,” you chuckled, taking one last bite of the tiramisu Maria insisted was on the house.  

“Yeah? Why?” Miguel prodded.

“Because you-re so uptigh–upstanding now.” 

You were treated to another rare grin from Miguel, this time a half smile rather than a quarter. “Nice save.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you contended with put-on innocence. 

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t always like what I have to do, you know.” 

Your gaze locked directly with his for a breath-taking second, his eyes garnets in the low light of the dining room. “We should get going, I've taken you away from headquarters for long enough.” 

“You act like I’ve never left HQ before, and if anything, I took you away from your family,” Miguel parried, yet stood up nonetheless. You followed suit, only mildly disappointed he didn’t argue with you about leaving. As awkward as this dinner initially was, you’d actually ended up enjoying it. “I’ll take you home.”

Miguel’s words stopped you in your tracks, “You know I’m the protector of this city, right?” 

“Obviously, I—” he huffed as you waved goodbye to Maria and exited back onto the street. “Mierda May, I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

Oh. Oh. Did Miguel think this was a date too? Date was too strong of a word – did Miguel think this was a not-entirely-work-related-hang too? 

You struggled to keep your face blasé. “Ah, okay. We taking the subway or are we swinging?” 

Miguel shot you a look as if the choice was obvious, which is how you found yourself traipsing across the city with Spider-Man 2099. You’d traveled by web plenty of times with Miguel before on missions, but there was something about it being the two of you, in your city, that made it feel just a little bit special. 

And to be honest, you’d never get enough of watching Miguel’s body hurtle through the air – despite his bulk and brawn, he was agile and lithe as he swung from building to building with you. You nearly plunged into traffic on Sixth Avenue after your thoughts had wandered to what those bulging muscles looked like unencumbered by that skin-tight suit of his. 

When you arrived at your apartment in Morningside Heights, you were suddenly self-conscious. You’d never brought a Spider to your residence, and Miguel was likely the hardest to impress of them all. 

He studied your modest one-bedroom with the same intensity as he did his screens at the Spider-Society. 

“It’s not much, I know,” you began, “and with Spider-Girl stuff, I don’t have the time to keep it as tidy as I'd like to.”

“It’s perfect,” he mumbled before catching himself. “I mean, it’s perfect for you.” 

“Yeah, I don’t need much, but it gets good light during the day and was the highest floor I could afford at my price point,” you removed your mask as you babbled on. 

“Makes sense,” Miguel nodded. 

You had no idea where to go from there – what on Earth was the man playing at? Should you offer him water, another drink, the best spot to portal back to HQ? He was lingering in your space, seemingly fascinated by the framed prints on your walls, the photos on the coffee table and credenza. 

“Um, do you need to use the restroom or something? Because it’s right through there,” you motioned to the appropriate door. 

“I’m good for now.”

THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE? You hollered in your head. Externally, you kept playing hostess, “Let me get you a glass of water then–”

Yet Miguel caught your wrist before you could retreat into your tiny, galley kitchen. You weren’t proud of how your heart leapt and your breath hitched at the contact. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting back?” 

He shrugged, “I should, but–”

“But what?” 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said…about letting someone climb on top of me.” 

You gulped, “Sorry, that was so inappropriate of me–”

“It was. Inappropriate, that is, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea,” he tugged you closer to him. You could barely stand to meet his eyes, alight with desire, while your heart was pounding embarrassingly fast. 

“Um, judging by the–uh, do you want me to climb on top of you, Miguel?” you were always so much smoother in your daydreams about him. 

His lips hovered dangerously near yours. “Do you want to climb on top of me?” 

The closer you got to Miguel, the faster your brain turned to scrambled eggs. His large, sure hands had settled on your hips. 

“Uh huh,” was the best you could muster before he crashed your lips together. 

Miguel’s kiss was searing and all-consuming – it felt as if the longer your mouths moved against each other, the more your body melted into his. He was tall, so tall, and even for a superhero like yourself, it was difficult to keep yourself perched on the balls of your feet to reach his skilled, hungry mouth. 

He seemed to sense your struggle, and without breaking your liplock, he scooped you up into his arms. It was foreign but not unwelcome – you were so used to being the strongest, the person who held others, the hero. Therefore, being held so effortlessly in Miguel’s arms was nothing short of exhilarating. You weren’t the strongest person in the room anymore, you could surrender. You loved it.

Miguel pressed your back into the nearest wall, causing an emphatic moan to leave you when your hips became flush with his. You could already feel him – hot, hard, and big – between the flimsy fabric of your spider-suits. Instinctually, you canted your heat against his, delighting in the way he seemed to grow hotter, harder, not to mention unbelievably bigger, when you did. 

“Bedroom?” he gasped between harsh, ardent kisses. 

You managed to fling a hand in the correct direction, and next thing you knew, Miguel was depositing you onto your bed. You propped yourself up, leaning back on your palms to take in the man towering over you at the edge of your bed. In a flash of color and light, his suit disappeared from his strapping physique, and the sight of Miguel naked intoxicated you more than alcohol ever could. 

His shoulders seemed even broader without the unstable particles of his suit covering them. His pecs were massive, which made a delectable ratio when his chest tapered down to a chiseled abdomen and slim hips. Slim hips that framed the biggest cock you’d seen outside of porn – hell, maybe even including porn. He was long and thick – it made a dark thrill race down your spine when you contemplated how the hell that was going to fit inside of you. 

Miguel noticed you marveling at his package, misinterpreting the rapacious glint in your eye as unease, “I’ll prep you, I won’t hurt you.” 

“Oh, I’m not worried” you glanced back up at his face coquettishly. 

“No?” Miguel cocked an eyebrow and advanced toward you on the bed, a jaguar stalking its prey. He nudged you onto your back and pinned your wrists to your comforter, “maybe you should be.” 

You muscled out of Miguel’s grip and switched positions so you were straddling him. Only then did you lean closer and whisper into his ear, “I can take it.” 

Miguel growled, and within an instant, you were on your back once again as he pawed at your suit. Unlike his costume, your spider-suit was made of plain old fabric, so there was a bit of fumbling, cursing in Spanish, nervous giggling, and a mumbled comment about ‘making you a suit like mine’ from Miguel before you were nude as well. 

He splayed you out against your mattress as if you were a feast before him. Your first instinct was to try and cover yourself but Miguel’s dark gaze froze you. A pleased groan rumbled from his chest and then his large hands flew to your breasts. “Such full, perky tits.”

You moaned in response to his ministrations. How was this real? You and Miguel were touching each other – naked – and you hadn’t woken up yet. 

“It’s all for you,” you mewled, relishing his hot palms on your sensitive buds. 

Another growl ripped from his chest before he swooped down and sucked one of your nipples into his warm, wanting mouth. You keened, a pathetic, high-pitched sound, and you wove your fingers into his dark locks as he gorged himself on your tits. 

The pull of Miguel’s mouth on your peaks was made only better when he snaked a hand between your legs and ran a finger along the seam of your sex. You bucked at the touch, your reaction causing Miguel to lift his head from your bosom. 

“Mmmm, you like it when I play with your pussy, cariño?”

At this point words had all but left you so you nodded and whined in the affirmative. Miguel’s digit parted your folds, tracing up and down, then found your clit and rubbed slow, tortuous circles into the nub. 

“So wet for me, bebita,” he observed, maddeningly casually, while he played you like an instrument. “This is all for me, huh?”

Your head thrashed back and forth on your comforter with a sob, both from pleasure and bashfulness. Now there was no downplaying how horny Miguel made you. 

“Shhh,” he cooed at you, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his groin, “feel what you do to me.”

This time your moan was unabashed as your hand circled around his girth. “Fuck, you’re so big.” 

“I know,” he grunted. Normally, such braggadocio from a man would be an immediate turn off to you. But Miguel wasn’t being arrogant, not when he was referring to the thick, pulsing hardness you were currently caressing. “Gotta get you ready for me.”  

He guided your hand away from his member, even despite your protests, to wrench your thighs wider and bury his head between them. The realization alone that Miguel O’Hara was about to eat you out almost made you come, yet actually feeling his tongue on your needy cunt was infinitely better. He licked a stripe from your perineum to your clit, tearing another ragged moan from you when his tongue focused in on the bundle of nerves. 

Miguel chuckled against your folds at your enthusiastic praise and redoubled his efforts. Your fingers reflexively tangled in his inky locks once again as he continued his delectable assault on your pussy. The way Miguel tasted you matched with how he seemed to approach everything – he was vehement and determined to bring you pleasure like how he was when he worked. He managed to just stay on the right side of rough as he slurped at you..though perhaps that was a bit different than how he fought.

He speared his tongue into your hole, affording you the opportunity to grind your clit against his prominent nose. In your pleasure-filled haze, you briefly fretted that you were suffocating Miguel, but when you tried to scooch away and give him some air, the man grunted and pulled your hips closer to him.

You keened again when one of his thick fingers joined the fray as he prepped you. After all the sexual tension, all the self-denial, and all the excitement the night had held, it felt so good to clench around something. He was again methodical with his preparation, allowing you to adjust to one digit before adding another, and another. It couldn’t have made a starker contrast with how he was devouring your sex. Even in the bedroom, Miguel O’Hara was full of contradictions. It didn’t take long for your breaths to become more shallow, for your cries to reach a higher pitch as you climaxed around his hefty fingers. The combination of the penetration and the stimulation of your clit with his mouth was too good to resist. 

You were slightly relieved that Miguel remained nestled between your legs while you rode out your peak. The orgasm he’d given you was much too good to be able to control your facial expressions. 

He at last came up for air once you’d begun floating down from your peak. A primal pride surged through you at the sight of your juices smeared all over his lips and chin. You couldn’t help but smash your mouths together, eager to sample the combination you two made. It was all too easy to get lost in a kiss with Miguel, yet as you plundered his mouth with your tongue, your hand crept back down his groin. 

This time it was Miguel who moaned into your mouth as you returned him to full mast with feather-light, teasing touches. 

“I need to fuck you,” he gasped between kisses. 

“Finally,” you bantered back. 

A growl from Miguel and then he tackled you back flat on the bed. You couldn’t help the giggle – partly from nerves, partly from anticipation – that escaped you at his actions, despite the visage of a hulking, intimidating man hovering over you could be frightening in another context. 

“Do you have protection?” 

You hesitated. You kept a box of condoms in your bedside drawer, but given Miguel’s size, they’d be inadequate. 

“None that would fit you,” you confessed, stealing another glance at his large erection. It was truly a sight to behold. Miguel deflated slightly, fearing penetration was off the table, and usually it would be. You were firmly a two methods of contraception girl, but there was no way you were going to pass up this chance to have sex with Miguel. “Don’t worry Spidey, I’m on the pill.” 

“Gracias a Dios,” he muttered, then wasted no time situating himself between your hips. He drew yet another mewl from you when he slapped the tip of his cock a few times on your clit before lining himself up with your entrance. 

He found you looking at him expectantly. And though Miguel mostly saw desire in your eyes, he could see the glimpse of unease too. He assured you, “I’ll go slow.” 

You nodded, you trusted him after all, but nothing could prepare you for the stretch of when Miguel finally pushed into you. Just the tip was already splitting you apart more than Gene, or any former lover for that matter, ever had. 

“Breathe,” Miguel rasped. You couldn’t tell if he was advising you or himself though. It struck you then that you’d perhaps achieved the damn-near impossible – disarming the notoriously closed-off Miguel O’Hara. He looked beautiful, biting his plush lower lip as he slowly rocked more and more of his huge cock inside of you. 

Your back arched off the mattress of the sensation of being progressively speared on the monster that Miguel called a dick. It was too much and not enough all at once, and your fingers dug into your comforter below you. He tried to distract you from any potential pain, Miguel’s index finger returning to your barely-recovered clit. 

“That’s it, open up for me,” he husked. Your head swam at the mix of his enormous manhood stretching you to your limit and his tender, in-control tone. The realization hit you harder than a punch from an anomaly. In that moment, fear skittered down your throat and pooled into your stomach, resting right above where you two were joined. He’s going to ruin me for other men, isn’t he? 

You couldn’t think any further since not only was Miguel fully seated within you, he had asked you a question. Your eyes glassy and pupils blown, found his, and he repeated himself. “You okay? Can-can I move?”

“Yes,” you gasped. In case your breath affirmation left any room for doubt, you added, “please.”

Another grunt from your lover and Miguel at last began to thrust into you. Your arms flew from the bed to his impossibly wide shoulders, your nails digging into the caramel, taut skin there. You couldn’t tell exactly when it’d happened, lost in the deliciously lewd sounds you were making between the slap of your bodies, your labored breaths, and his determined staccato grunts while Miguel railed you, but your hips had begun to meet his. 

“M-more Miguel,” you urged him as you dragged your fingertips down the expanse of his back. Each of your hands grabbed a fistful of that glorious ass and squeezed to drive home your point. 

“You sure?” 

You moaned. It was as if he couldn’t give it to you hard or faster enough. You used your grip on the globes of his perfect rear to try and force him to increase to the pace and force you needed him to fuck you at. 

Miguel laughed. A dark and stirring sound that made you involuntarily tighten around his girthy length. “Alright bebita, but remember…you asked for this.” 

His words ignited something defiant within you. You pulled Miguel’s head from where it had fallen into the crook of your neck so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I’m not some pillow princess from Nueva. I’m just as strong as you are, I can go just as hard you can, and I want you to fuck me.” 

Your lover’s eyes darkened at your demand. The growl that ripped from his throat was your only warning before Miguel unleashed the full force of his strength on you. You keened in pleasure as he all but drove you through your bedframe and the wall behind it. Miguel captured your wrists once more and restrained you against the mattress as he absolutely pounded into your pussy. 

His drilling drew another ecstatic cry from your mouth. Miguel glared down at you, his eyes nearly crazed, his face barely lit in the ambient light from the street. It truly was infuriating to you how beautiful this man was. You watched his brow furrowed in concentration – not on his stupid screens for once – and his dark hair shift in time with his thrusts.  Your features contorted in pleasure when Miguel switched from drilling into you to swiveling his hips to stuff you with his cock. His movements were deliberate and slow, he was trying to get as deep inside of you as he could. You almost went cross-eyed at the feel of his bulbous cockhead punching against your cervix. 

The criminal undulations of his hips extracted a little yip from you each time he pistoned into you. He grinned down at you wolfishly. Equal parts indignation and arousal bloomed within you. Also, was the first time you'd ever seen Miguel smile? Not a little half-smirk or a humorless quirk of his lips, but an unabashed smile?

“Want me to back off?” 

Oh, there was no way you were going to take that lying down. Even if Miguel’s pubic bone was perfectly grinding into your clit. 

You let out a growl of your own and summoned all the power in your core muscles to wrestle Miguel back and claim the high ground. Out of breath when you found yourself seated on Miguel’s dick, his large, muscled body prone beneath you, you braced yourself on his rippled abdomen.

“Is the itsy-bitsy Spider-Girl gonna ride my cock?” he taunted you. If Miguel didn’t wear that arrogant, playful smirk so well, you would’ve wiped it from his lips. 

You slid your hands up the length of his chest and leaned over, your face hovering over his. “That depends. Can 2099 handle it?” 

Miguel answered you with an impatient buck of his hips up into your sex. You giggled as you straightened up again, tweaking one of Miguel's nipples as you went. You relished the little shudder it sent through him. “Alright, but remember baby, you asked for this.”

He snorted out a laugh, which you quickly silenced once you began riding Miguel like the stud he was. “Hnnn–shock, bebita.”

“Ah,” you sighed as you bounced on his prick. Before sleeping with Miguel, you had assumed the term “feeling him in your guts” was hyperbole. Not with him. “Fuck, you’re even bigger like this.” 

A large hand traced its way up one of your thighs, now lightly covered with a sheen of sweat, past your sex, split apart by his shaft, to where Miguel’s manhood made the slightest bulge in your lower belly. His smile became wider and even cockier. “It’s good, no?”

You gave him a nonverbal, but enthusiastic, reply. He smacked your ass in satisfaction, “Yeah c’mon, cariño, ride me. Wanna watch your tits bounce.” 

You officially hated Miguel and his big, thick, perfectly sized cock. Where as with other partners you’d smack them right back with a zinger, all you could do was moan again. His naughty, domineering words did nothing but excite you. There was something about him and the way he fucked that made you incapable of doing little else than enthusiastically submitting to him. You leaned back, your fingers clutching onto Miguel’s thick thighs to stability as you changed angles and gave him a better view of your breasts jiggling in time with your motions. 

“Ay, sí bebita,” Miguel’s hands flew to your hips to intensify the frantic mashing of your bodies together, “Ven aquí.”

He gathered your torso in his hulking arms and pulled you closer so that he could coax a breast into his mouth again as you rode him. 

“You gonna come for me Miguel?” you panted.  

“No,” he sounded as winded as you were. “Not yet.”

You clenched around him and snickered. “Are you sure?” 

“¡Coño!” Miguel snarled at the feel of your already blistering, tight pussy suffocating his dick further. “¡No más – basta de esto!”

The vision of your bedroom swam when Miguel lifted you off his pulsing member and dropped you back on your stomach onto the mattress facing the foot of the bed.. You could hear him shifting behind you, and you blindly groped for the lower metal railing of your bedframe’s footboard, only vaguely aware what was to come. 

A grunt from Miguel, and the next thing you knew one of your pillows was stuffed under your lower belly and his massive hands were back on either side of your hips. Your lover didn’t give you any notice before shoving his fat erection back inside of your already tender pussy. 

You shouted at the feeling of his cock stuffing you to the brim once again. Miguel’s hands appeared above your head where you held on for dear life as he impaled you on his prick.

“Ahhh!” you clamored, desperately trying to pull enough air in your lungs to function as Miguel squatted behind you. “I’ve never been so full! Oh God, Miguel, it’s so much…so much…”

Miguel responded with a pleased growl, and merely rammed into you harder. You were peripherally aware of the clanging of the pieces of your metal bed frame clanging together in protest at the vigor of your and Miguel’s coupling, but there were too many sensations overwhelming you at once to focus on one in particular. Not even when the metal groaned and the angle Miguel fucked you at changed did you pay attention to what was actually happening. You merely pushed back onto his cock as much as you could, your fingertips scrabbling into the folds of your comforter. 

Your eyes screwed shut at the barrage of stimuli - the unrelenting stretch of Miguel’s hardness,  his harsh but steadying grip on your hips, the light scratch of fabric beneath you on your skin, the little puff of warmth on the back of your neck from Miguel’s labored exhalations. You were sure this was better than any high any drug could provide. You hadn’t tried many, not even Rapture, and but nothing could top being thoroughly fucked into your mattress by Miguel O’Hara.

Miguel’s dogged grunts morphed into shouts when he at last found his release, spurting rope after rope of hot, creamy cum into your welcoming cunt. You found yourself crying out along with him as he emptied his load, your walls bearing down around his length as you both rode out his high. Miguel flooded your pussy with his seed and before you could even try to adjust to the feeling, he withdrew his cock from you, tearing a quite pathetic-sounding whimper from your mouth. 

Miguel pulled your ass cheeks apart to examine your stretched, puffy pussy leaking his cum. His chest rumbled with primal delight. “Hermosa.”

You’d barely had a chance to catch your breath when Miguel dove back in for more, this time his eager, demanding tongue again invading your channel. You whimpered again, your pitch jumping an octave at Miguel’s needy tongue not only collecting his spunk from your pussy, but flicking the muscle against your clit. He was a man possessed, he ate you out as if he needed you to orgasm one more time for his survival. 

You gave him what he wanted (how could you not?), and once the crest of your pleasure had subsided, you lightly pushed him away from your gaping, abused cunt. 

The first thing you noticed when your wits returned to you was how much closer the ground had become. 

“Oh my God,” you put it together and turned to face your partner, "we broke the bed.”

Miguel arched a brow from where he leant back into the pillows. “Are you surprised?”

You frowned at him.  

“I’ll fix it,” he promised. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m going to…” you trailed off your gaze floating to the bathroom.

“Do your thing.”

“Can…can I get you anything?” 

Miguel glanced down at his crotch. “A towel?” 

You nodded. “Say no more.” 

You ducked into your en-suite, and once you were sure the door was firmly closed behind you, you proceeded to have a freak out to yourself in the mirror. You scarcely believe your own appearance – lips kiss swollen, hair a veritable bird's nest, your mascara smudged into rings around your eyes. Miguel had destroyed you in the best of ways. 

The thought sent a little aftershock of pleasure through you. You didn’t dally any longer — you relieved yourself, washed your hands, ran a brush through your hair and splashed water on your face. After dampening a washcloth for Miguel, you returned to the bedroom, where your bed frame was properly vertical again. 

You glimpsed the glow of Miguel’s distinctive red webs holding the broken metal rods together. The other Spider was reclining on your mattress, a sheet haphazardly tossed over his groin to preserve his modesty. Even so, the sight of him made you go weak in the knees. He really did remind you of some sort of a large cat given the odd grace in which he lounged with, the evidence of his power and strength so poorly hidden under the surface of his skin. 

“Get a new frame and expense it to Spider-HQ,” Miguel's baritone snapped you out of your reverie. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” You tossed him the towel. 

His eyes raked over your naked form. But instead of the desire you’d found there earlier, his gaze was full of concern. “You okay?”

“Yes. Very okay. A little sore but good sore, ya know?” 

“Good,” Miguel busied himself with cleaning up. 

“I mean, what’s the point of having superpowers if you can’t enjoy extra rough sex?” you joked. 

“Yeah, about that,” Miguel refused to meet your eyes. “As um…great as all this was…I think we–it should be a one-time thing.” 

“Um, duh.” He looked up at you hastily and you continued, “Miguel, neither of us are anywhere close to ready or in the right place for a relationship.” 

Your heart disagreed with your words, but you uttered them anyway. Not because it was how you truly felt, but you knew it was what he wanted to hear. Miguel associated any sense of closeness or vulnerability with weakness and danger. Trying to get him to see otherwise was a fool's errand, and it was easier on your heart to convince yourself into concurring with him. 

Oddly, Miguel didn’t seem to relax at your assurances. He looked dubious. “Are you sure?” 

“Oh my God, you are so cocky!” you accused him with a playful slap to the broad, tan chest. “Spare me the fake worry 2099, you may be amazing at sex, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to be professional with you at HQ.” 

“Amazing at sex?” Mirguel parroted you with a smirk. 

You slapped him again. “Of course that’s the only part you heard.”

“Sorry but those are very distracting,” he claimed, his gaze focused on your exposed breasts. 

You scoffed and grabbed a pillow to temporarily cover yourself. “Hang on there, Spider-Man. Yes, you are…not terrible at showing a lady a good time, no, you don’t have to worry about me being clingy at work, and yes, I’m sure so stop looking at me like that!” 

You tossed the pillow away and straddled him. “Now I don’t know about you, but it’s only midnight. If this is indeed a one-time thing, I say we make the most of the night and the fact that no one has bothered us with some multiversal emergency yet.” 

Miguel finally let it go, choosing to focus on your very nude body on top of his. His hips moved on their own accord, grinding his cock, already stiffening back up to full mast, against where you were still so nice and stretched for him. 

“Vamos, bebita,” he whispered into your ear. His fingers dug into your sides possessively in a way that almost let you believe he was doing it because you were his. “Wanna fuck you on the ceiling.” 

***

You shouldn't have been surprised that Miguel didn’t stay the night. You were honestly shocked when he collapsed beside you after the hours you’d spent vehemently fucking. Your bed was now held together by a mix of both his and your webs, one of your framed photos on the wall lay shattered on the floor to be dealt with later, and the ceiling now sported a dent that was going to be very difficult to explain to your landlord. 

The memory of Miguel leaving was hazy at best. After so many rounds of deeply satisfying, intensely athletic sex, you felt like you could sleep for a week. Yet the shift and dip of Miguel’s large frame exiting the bed was enough to wake you. You could sort of recall a small flash of light and chirpy voice which must have been Lyla…and you also had a vague memory of him replying in a hushed rumble as if not to wake you up. Or was he telling you he was heading out? Everything jumbled together under the fog of sleep. 

Either way, you had to tell yourself that the sensation of a large hand caressing your face and then tenderly stroking down the sleep-warm skin of your back was a dream. Not for Miguel’s sake, but yours. 

Thanks to super-spider stamina, you only really needed a couple extra shots of espresso to function somewhat normally the following day at headquarters. You were angry at your instinct to avoid Miguel. You both were adults that had an adult, mature conversation that last night’s activities were merely a form of stress release that didn’t mean anything. It was hard to believe however, when you could still feel the phantom shape of him inside of you. 

Besides, it’s not even like you could avoid him if you wanted to. You were scheduled to go over more sequencing today with Miguel, and you were dead set on not blinking first in the post-sex-awkwardness stand-off. 

“Hey, Miguel!” your voice reverberated in the vast space. 

Several agonizing moments later, his platform lowered enough for you two to start conversing. If he was at all bashful about seeing you, the man didn’t show it. 

“Good. You’re here.”

“Yep.” 

Miguel was all business. “I want to go back to the fight you had with your father. Lyla, take us to timestamp 46:90:45.”

Damn, and here you thought you were good at compartmentalizing. You did your best to hide any disappointment from reaching your face, playing along as if he hadn’t seen every crevice of your body the night before. 

***

Days turned into weeks, and you eventually, reluctantly accepted that Miguel had told you the truth that night. What you two had shared was really just a one-time lapse of his frighteningly strong self-restraint. 

You were enjoying a rare night in, parked on the couch, takeout boxes strewn about the coffee table, your favorite trashy reality show playing on your TV. You’d gotten injured taking down a Doc Ock variant a few days ago, and Miguel benched you to recuperate. You were all too happy to take a break, from him and Spider-Girling. Despite your complicated feelings for the man, he assigned a recently displaced Spider, Spider-Woman 1357, to pinch hit for you in your dimension while you healed up. It was the first time since you became a hero you had a day off with peace of mind. 

Just as you started another episode, a tingle raced down your spine. Your spider-sense. Something was about to happen. Out of all the possibilities of what could have followed, a portal opening in your living room and Miguel walking through was the last thing you would’ve guessed. You leapt up from the sofa. 

You instantly regretted your appearance - messy bun, no makeup, and ratty sweatpants. Miguel, as usual, looked immaculate in his skintight spider-suit. 

“Hey.” 

“Is this a booty call?”

“No.” 

“Don’t bullshit me–”

“It’s not, I swear! Coño, I came to check on you.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Why not?”

“Because you could have messaged me on my gizmo. It’s your preferred method of communication after all, ever since the last time you were in my apartment.” 

“May–”

Lyla appeared over his shoulder. “He missed you, that’s all.”

Miguel growled at his AI. “I’m going to sentence you to robot death via spreadsheets.” 

Lyla wasn’t threatened in the slightest. “Thank me later.” She disappeared before Miguel could try and make another retort. 

“You missed me?”

“No,” his denial was instant. “I just…I–”

“This is a booty call!” you crumpled up a napkin and chucked it at his large form. “Go home, Miguel!” 

He didn’t budge. “It’s not a booty call. I…what are you watching?”

“The Realest Housewives of Manhattan. What, don’t judge me!”

Miguel couldn't keep his face straight. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Seeing his eyes crinkle with amusement was infectious. You threw another napkin ball at him and then composed yourself. He wasn’t getting off the hook this easily. “Why are you here? Be honest with me. It’s the very least I deserve.”

“I wanted to see the shocking expensive bed frame you expensed to HQ for myself.” 

“You said I could and you didn't set a spending limit.” A wicked little grin pulled at the corners of your mouth. The bed frame from Restoration Hardware had been your own private form of revenge. “And I’m supposed to believe you wanting to see my bed – my bed that you broke–”

“Hey! We broke the bed–”

“--is not your thinly veiled excuse for seeking another roll in the hay? Enough with goddamn mind games Miguel.” He tried to speak but you pushed on, “I’m tired and this is the last thing I need.”

Miguel sobered. He hung his head. His mouth seemed to fight the words as they left his lips.  “Alright, fine. I missed you.” 

You ignored your heartbeat’s sharp increase and schooled your features to maintain a neutral appearance. “I have some extra Pad Thai if you want.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“So this may not be a booty call, but does anyone other than Lyla know you’re here?”

“No.” 

You nodded. “Come. Sit. I just started the episode where Beverly throws her poodle a forty thousand dollar birthday party.” 

“Nothing you said just now made sense,” Miguel protested, but took a seat on your couch anyway. 

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed!! Miguel has fully rotted my brain so I thought it only fair to share the horniness. Of course I have more imagined in this AU, fingers crossed I can find more time to write (comments and reblogs and likes help!)

Translations:

Mierda - Shit 

cariño - dear

bebita - baby

Gracias a Dios - Thank God

Ven aquí - Come here

¡Coño! - Damnit!

¡No más – basta de esto! -No more, enough of this!

Hermosa - beautiful

Vamos, bebita - Come on, baby

Taglist: @plethora-of-imagines, @itdobe-liza @absolutelybloodyhopeless @ninebluehearts, @oscarissac2099 @trinthealternate

[liyawritesss]

ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴀʟᴇꜱ [ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ-ᴍᴀɴ] ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

Characters: Spider-Verse!Miles Morales [Spider-Man]

Type: headcanons

Synopsis: general thoughts and headcanons for everyone's favorite afro-latino spiderman!

Warnings: some cursing but overall no warnings. KEEP IT CUTE AND PG-16 CUZ THIS IS STILL NEPHEW WE TALKIN BOUT HERE!!!

A/N: went to see atsv and i’m absolutely floored by that movie…it’s definitely giving me new material to write abt and a new hyperfixation so buckle up yall cuz the next few posts are gonna be all spiderman related!!

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First off I wanna say this is my SON, and on everything i love i will throw hands over him, if anybody wanna try it prepare to be demolished cuz I will NOT spare you. This is a lil boy ion wanna see none of yall sniffin around him period. I will gladly held you find your mind if you wanna lose it today!!!

Okay, no that that spiel is over, we’ve got some headcanons to address about everyone's favorite afro-latino spiderman

He’s so precious. Idc if you know already I’m telling you again, he is the most precious thing in the world. He has a heart of gold and wears it on his sleeve, he’s always looking out for people and wants to see the best in everything and everyone. Which, while it is a good characteristic to have, can sometimes put him in tough situations, and sometimes it doesn’t end well.

He’s such a momma’s boy, but like the good momma’s boy where he adapts the things Rio teaches him and repays her by being a good filial son, even though he’s growing up and wanting to branch out. If he’s having emotional trouble, he’ll come to her to try and figure out how to express himself and understand how he’s feeling. On special occasions, or just when he notices her mood is off, Miles will conspire with his dad to do something small but special for his mom, like make breakfast or drop off flowers at her work. She’s always super appreciative of it too

Waking up for him is hell in the morning, because he is not a morning person at all. It’s worse if he went on patrol the night before (which, 9/10, he has) and he almost always sleeps through his alarm. He’s the type to have to have several alarms set to get up up, because otherwise he will sleep through the day

Similarly, Miles also finds it hard for him to sleep most nights. In the beginning of his career being Spiderman he would almost never go to sleep really. Even the trick of using nyquil or melatonin gummies didn’t work because his mind was always on one hundred, thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Though as he meets friends he can confide in and grows older he learns how to manage that kind of stress, which makes it easier to sleep. Though the insomnia never truly leaves him unfortunately, and its something he has to take with him for the rest of his life

Despite his introverted self, and the fact that he tends to want to keep to himself more often than not, Miles is actually very easy to talk to and if given the time and patience, great at making friends. He’s awkward at first because he wants to measure his interactions based on the vibe of the person he’s talking to, but you will find a hardcore loyal and caring friend in Miles.

So emotionally aware that it almost hurts. He’ll be upset and know why he’s upset, but sometimes wishes he didn’t know because in some situations he may not think his emotions are valid. And because he’s such an intentional person and a hyper empath, everything he feels is multiplied by ten. So if you fuck him over, he’s probably more upset about it than you’ll ever be if you were upset at fucking him over, if that makes sense?

He’s a cuddle-bug and nothing will change my mind about it! He had hella teddy bears as a little boy and would get upset if Rio took them to be washed because he was afraid he wouldn’t see them again. For no reason in particular he’s slowly dissipated his teddy bear collection and now uses a very fluffy body pillow to hold on to as he sleeps. Sometimes if he’s sick or just very down in the dumps and Rio notices, she’ll climb into bed with him for a while and comfort him

A decent cook actually as well! He was always in the kitchen when his mom and his tia’s came over to cook so he knows how to throw down in the kitchen a lil bit. His favorite thing to make is tamales because while the process may be tedious, it allows him to unwind and clear his mind while focusing on the preparation of them.

Miles’ is the type that when he goes into the store he will always, without fail, buy a new notebook/sketchpad. He may not even need it, he may already have like ten new ones he has yet to break in, but he always likes to stay prepared for when his current one runs out. He also likes to alternate between them or dedicate certain notebooks to certain muses or drawing preferences

Will squeak out of surprise and say something in spanish if he’s startled or scared. And I’m talking like a girlish squeak and it's so cute but he’d be so embarrassed, cuz why did you have to sneak up on him like that? He was doing perfectly fine til you wanted to give him a heart attack.

On the topic of spanish, he isn’t that confident in it so he doesn’t really like to speak it if its not with his family, because he just knows he’s gonna fuck it up. So if he feels like there's pressure in a conversation where he knows he’s going to have to speak it at some point, he’ll try to back out before that happens

Miles gets so fascinated with things all the time. It happens mostly when he’s either strolling through the neighborhood or he’s on patrol. Definitely checks himself out in the glass of skyscrapers…then promptly remembers that there are people behind said glass that can see him and hurriedly swings off. And if a new pair of Jordans have been teased? Best believe he’s doing all the chores and buttering up his parents so that he can get them as soon as they drop

Speaking of Jordans; this boy is such a sneakerhead it’s insane. His dorm room AND his room at home are full of shoe boxes he has yet to style with some clothes. Keeps telling his parents “I’ma wear ‘em, I’ma wear ‘em!” but he never has the time to cuz he’s too preoccupied with being a good student and Spiderman to prioritize style over comfort (even tho he do still be fresh n clean)

He’s also the best bestie to have. Texts you tiktoks, checks in on you at seemingly always the right time. If you go to school together then you know you’re hanging out after classes. And if you need help in the sciences, Miles is the best tutor ever. And his family loves you, so birthdays, christmas and other holidays, if you’re not already celebrating with your folks, if you don’t fuck with them like that, or if you don’t have a real family, he’s inviting you over his place all the time so that you never have to feel alone.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[angel-eyes05]

bite the hand (chapter 8)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!oc x miguel o’hara 

summary: lorena's whole world was taken away from her in the blink of an eye, after she accidentally broke a canon event. lucky for her though, she was able to find a portal watch in her dimension and used it to get out before she glitched out of existence. unfortunately though, running from dimension to dimension, she's been named as an anomaly by the spider society. now, she's constantly on the run from them, their leader in particular. when she eventually gets caught though, she's recruited onto a mission to catch another anomaly who might be from her past. to her dismay though, her partner on this mission is her very captor. will she be able to stop arguing with him for long enough to get the job done?

info: enemies to lovers, maybe a slow burn depending on chapter count, oc is 24 and miguel is 27, both oc and miguel are super sad lmao, they're also both super violent so, they also hate each other what a slay, in regards to my oc you can read her character sheet right here

warnings: there might be spoilers for atsv in this so watch the movie before reading this, i made up some weird rules for miguel's suit and idk if theyre entirely accurate to canon so just go with it, tension lol, cursing, drinking

word count: 3.4k

notes: i gotta start repeating the banners at the top cause i ran out LMAO. also, expect less frequent uploads cause 1) i kinda have low motivation rn and 2) im pretty busy rn (going out, vacations, and doing job applications). writing also gets a little draining for me after a while and i gotta put me first😔✊ ill keep uploading though dw i just gotta do it at my own speed to make sure i dont drop the series cause if i try to push stuff out too fast, im gonna end up dropping it so just bear with me lol. also i didn't proofread this before posting cause its 3:30 when im dropping this, and im so tired lmao

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

It was the sun that slithered into the room through the cracks in the blinds that woke her up. Lorena preferred that to the normal wakeup call from a nightmare, or the sounds of honking cars next to her on the street. The way the bed had molded itself to her shape made it impossible for her to move. Almost like it was trapping her in its comfort. Even if the mattress was old, the fact that this had been her first time sleeping in an actual bed, and not a bench, sidewalk, or cot, in months was enough to provide her ease. 

She turned to face the other side of the bed, surprised when no one was in sight. Miguel was probably in the bathroom or something. She was more focused on a different fact: this had been the first sleep in weeks without a nightmare.

Huh. Weird.

She sat up in bed, noticing she was still in her robe from the bathroom. She rubbed the drowsiness off her face as the click of the door lock called her attention. Letting in a stream of early sunlight with him, Miguel walked through the door, pitch black sunglasses covering his eyes, a box in one hand, and a cup tray in the other. “Figured you’d be hungry when you woke up,” he said once he noticed she was awake. He softly kicked the door closed behind him, setting the tray on the desk near the door and the box on the bed. 

Pulled by curiosity, she moved her hands towards the box and opened it to see what was inside. Her mouth immediately started watering when she opened it to see assorted treats such as conchas, bigotes, and mantecadas. “I was in the mood,” Miguel said, pulling the drinks out of the tray. “I didn’t know how much cream or sugar you liked so I just got you black cause that's what I get,” he said, handing the hot cup of coffee to her. 

The smell of the pastries mixed with the coffee was enough to make her want to cry. It reminded of the smells of her aunt’s kitchen in the morning. The bitterness of the coffee stung at her throat, but it was overshadowed by the comfort it brought her. She picked up one of the bigotes, and had to hold back her tears of joy when she took a bite. “Gracias por todo,” she said, mouth full of food and covered in sugar. Miguel smiled at the sight of her. “De nada, cariño,” he said sweetly, taking one of the conchas for himself. 

As he walked away with his food, towards the bathroom, Lorena noticed something about him. “Where’d you get the clothes?” she asked, mouth still filled with food. He was now wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. “It’s part of my suit,” he responded, fixing his hair in the bathroom mirror. “¿Cómo?” He sighed. “Remember what I said about the whole nanotech thing last night?” “Yeah, what about it?” Suddenly, the shirt and sweatpants shifted into his blue and red suit just before her eyes. “Woah…” she exclaimed in awe. “I can change its appearance as long as the outfit is downloaded to my suit’s database.” “Oh,” Lorena expressed, even if she still didn’t fully understand what he was talking about. 

“Why’d you get to be born in the crazy, futuristic dimension with all the fancy tech,” she complained to herself, just loud enough for Miguel to hear. “Why, do you want one?” he asked, in between a small chuckle. “I mean it would be nice to wear something other than a tight spandex suit for once,” Lorena joked, getting an actual laugh out of Miguel for once. Lorena blushed and smiled at his reaction. “Well lucky for you, you’re gonna need one for tonight,” he responded. “What do you mean?” she asked, after taking a sip from her coffee. 

He tossed her a small, golden chain. “The outfit should form around that chain. I had Lyla upload different outfits for the day, since she probably knows better than I do. When you’re ready, put it on.” Lorena admired the golden material. She was lucky she wasn’t a silver jewelry girl. “So what’s on the to-do list for today,” she said, still looking at the chain. “Stay undercover for the majority of the day, then head over to the Moonlit River club at night. Lyla should have that outfit uploaded by now,” he responded, brushing his teeth with the provided amenities in the motel. 

“Why, are you finally deciding to take me out dancing to pay me for my troubles,” she joked, taking a sip of coffee after. Miguel spit out his toothpaste and sighed. “Brock meets up there on Thursday nights to trade weapons.”

Silence filled the space between them.

She knew this day had to come. She just wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. 

“I see,” was all she could manage to say, before taking another sip of her coffee.

Miguel could feel the turmoil radiating off of her from the bathroom. He washed out his mouth, and splashed a bit of water on his face before walking over to her. He pushed the box of pastries to the side, and took a seat in front of her on the sheets.

“Mirarme,” he softly spoke, using his pointer finger to guide her eyes to his. She looked up at him, trying her best not to get lost in the crimson shade of his eyes. “I-” He cut himself off before he could continue. He melded her hand into his before speaking again. “I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. I want you to know that if this becomes too much for you…you can back out.” His inflection was weird. As if he didn’t want her to, but still wanted to keep her comfortable. A wrestling match between what he wanted and what was best for her. 

“And I’ve said it before too. I’m not running away from this,” Lorena said back, voice strong. “Ok. Just know if things get bad for you in there, I’ve got your back,” he said, concern in his voice. He had also found his eyes roaming her face, not realizing they had both subconsciously moved closer to each other. “And I’ve got yours too,” she said back. Once he had realized Lorena’s robe was loose enough to see inside to her chest, Miguel cleared his throat and got up from the bed quickly. 

“I’m gonna go into town, see if I can pick up any information on the street. You can do whatever you want until its time, but make sure to-” “Yeah, yeah, lay low. Relax big guy, I’ve got this,” she cut him off, reassuringly. He exited the room quickly, like he was in a rush to get away from her. He was gone for almost the rest of the day. 

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

About 8pm that night. 

Miguel was outside in the main room of the motel while Lorena was getting herself ready in the bathroom. Miguel had gone out earlier and bought her some cheap makeup and perfume from a local drugstore, a sweet gesture. 

Once she finished with her makeup and straightening up her hair, she tapped on the middle part of her gold chain, causing a menu to pop up. She scrolled through the options until she came across the last one, labeled by Lyla as “night time😉”. She clicked on the option, as she watched in awe as her casual t-shirt and sweatpants shifted into her outfit for the night. A tight black dress, cut asymmetrically to show one of her thighs, and a turtle neck part detached from the rest of the dress, with glove-like sleeves. This feature allowed for the perfect peephole towards her chest. Lorena had a feeling Lyla would try to do some matchmaking with her outfit.

With a quick spritz of perfume, a double check of her face in the mirror, and quickly putting on a black headband for her hair, Lorena quickly exited the bathroom. Miguel was standing there, waiting by the door and checking his portal watch. He was sporting a black, silk, button up shirt, tucked into black dress pants. The fact that the shirt was way too tight for him was accentuated by his muscles sculpted by the fabric and the fact that the first two buttons were open. His eye was caught by Lorena when she stepped out of the bathroom, his mouth slightly agape in awe and his eyes almost stuck to her.

“It’s flashy, I know. But it’s better that I fit in,” she said, trying to divide the tension in the room as she walked closer to him. “I-...um,” he stammered. “At a loss for words for once O’Hara?” she teased. Noticing a stray hair on the top of his head, she reached up to him to push it back. “Quédate quieto,” she commanded softly, while she stuck the piece back into the gel, trying to ignore how he was admiring her. 

“There you go. Ahora te ves guapo,” she teased, patting his chest with her hand. Miguel still had that stupid smile on his face. “Y te ves hermosa,” he said softly, and with utter sincerity. 

She couldn’t tell if she was caught more off guard with his words of affirmation, or the fact that the blush quickly forming on her cheeks was confirming her secret love of it. 

Clearing her throat, she unlocked the door, opened it, and gestured her hand to outside. “Lead the way big guy.” He smirked at her as he walked outside. He even got the courage to offer her his hand. This confidence was quickly deflated when she smacked away his hand, giggling to herself as she took the lead down the stairs. 

The night life of the city was bustling on the streets. Couples together, arm in arm, surely walking to a fancy restaurant for a night out. Lines forming outside of nightclubs, patrons with an urgency to get in. Everyone walking down the street with their own story to tell, just like Lorena. 

After walking for a couple of miles, the bright, neon blue sign shone in front of the entrance. The door was a mahogany red, with three stairs leading down to the entrance. But opposite to Miguel’s eagerness to get inside by opening the door, Lorena slightly froze, eyes blank. 

This was it. It was going to happen. Whether she was ready or not.

“Hey.” Miguel’s calm voice pulled her back to reality. “Stay with me. Okay?” He held out his large hand for her. This time, she decided to take it. “And remember to try and fit in,” he added. Her smile quickly turned sour and annoyed.

The atmosphere was loud, a mixture of people talking and the bass of the music filling the room. The fact that the lights were out didn’t seem to matter much with the amount of strobe and neon lights flashing within the bar. Lorena noticed Miguel quickly putting on a pair of sunglasses hidden in his jacket pocket. “I thought you said we needed to fit in,” Lorena stated as the two walked towards a high top near the bar. “I did. And?” “You really think you’re blending in with a pair of sunglasses on indoors? At night? In a club?” Lorena joked. “The lights hurt my eyes,” Miguel said, puppy dog hurt. Lorena had to fight to contain the laughter rising in her chest.

Once they sat down, and the reality of events settled down on Lorena, she began to look around the club. People sprayed out on couches, drunkenly conversing or making out. People out on the dance floor. Men walking into booths in the back, shielded by curtains. Eddie was probably in one of those. “I’m heading to the bar. You want anything?” Miguel asked, snapping her out of her daze. “Uhhhh, just get me something strong,” she brushed off, still not entirely paying attention. He shrugged and walked off to the bar. 

Lorena continued to inspect the area, her thoughts bouncing all over the place. What did this Eddie look like? Did he have black hair instead? Was his voice higher? Her Eddie always had a particularly deep tone. Smooth like silk as well. She would spend days on end focusing on the way he would say a single sentence back when she was first crushing on him. Would he act like her Eddie? She realized quickly she probably wouldn’t get the opportunity to find out. She didn’t necessarily want to find out anyways.

…

Would she have to kill him again? Would Miguel make her?

The smack of the glass on the table brought her back to reality. “You weren’t really specific, so I just got you a negroni,” Miguel said, open bottle of beer in his hand. Without a second thought, Lorena downed half the glass just then, proven to be a mistake with how strong the drink actually was. Her mouth curled inwards as her eyes shut closed, letting out a few coughs quickly after. 

Miguel laughed slightly, and slammed his hand against her back to help her cough. “What the fuck was that?” “Hey, you told me to get you something strong!” Miguel defended. “I thought you were gonna get me a margarita or something,” Lorena said, rubbing her chest with her hand. “Haven’t had alcohol in more than a year and you hit me with that straight away,” she said to herself. Subconsciously, he handed her his bottle. “Take a sip of that then.” She smiled to herself as she put her lips to the bottle and took a good sip of the beer. “Better?” he asked, like she was a child. “Yes, thank you for your charity sir, you’re so kind,” she responded sarcastically. 

“Find anything interesting yet?” Miguel asked, taking back the bottle. Lorena’s eyes went back to the curtains. “Those booths back there look promising. Are we sure he’s here yet though?” Lorena asked. “I have a hunch.” Lorena looked up at Miguel, annoyance on her face. “We’re going…off of a hunch?” “Just trust me on this okay.” Lorena sighed and took another sip of her own drink, wincing again when she put it back down. 

Her eyes were drawn away from the drapes and over to the lit up dance floor. She had always been the first one to bring her friends to dance with her when she was younger. Seeing it again brought feelings flooding back to her heart. Spontaneously, she jumped up from her chair and held out her hand to Miguel. “...What are you doing?” he asked, incredibly confused. 

“You said we had to blend in, right? We’ll do that better if we’re out there dancing,” she said. “Oh, no way. I don’t dance, chiquita,” he said, almost embarrassed. “Oh come on, for someone with your build? You’ve definitely danced before. Don’t be a debby downer Miggy,” she encouraged, both of them caught slightly off guard by the nickname slip. He rolled his head back, wiped his hands over his face, and let out a deep, annoyed groan. Once he stood up though and took her hand, it was impossible for Lorena to lose the smile growing on her face. “You’re taking the lead though, Loré,” he said, having come up with a nickname for her as well. She hoped the sunglasses he had on would keep him from seeing the blush on her face.

…

They didn’t.

Hand in hand, Lorena led Miguel over to the brightly lit floor, music blasting in the speakers next to them. Miguel stook out like a sore thumb, his huge build making him extremely identifiable among the other strangers on the floor. Lorena fit right in though, immediately beginning to dance to the blasting music. Miguel tried his best to copy her moves, but ended up looking like a fool. “You were right, you really aren’t that good at this,” Lorena teased. “Ha ha, very funny,” Miguel said monotonically. As the music changed slowly to a slower pace, they noticed the people around them grouping to dance into a pairs. She looked up to Miguel. He raised his eyebrow at her, asking her without words. Her smile was confirmation, as they inched towards each other. 

Almost as if they were pre-programmed to do so, Lorena wrapped her arms around Miguel’s neck, and his wrapped around her hips. They swayed together slowly to the music, melting into each others touch. He rested his head on her shoulder, his hot breath leaving goosebumps on her skin.

“This isn’t my wheelhouse,” he quietly whispered into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Why, better when other music is playing?” she whispered back sarcastically. “Everyone here’s lucky they aren’t playing salsa right now, or I’d be stealing the show.” Lorena let out a laugh. “Is that so?” He nodded, a huge smirk on his face. “I’m more of mambo person myself,” she responded. He smiled at her remark. “You’ll have to teach me some day.”

She struggled to keep the smile on her face as those words entered her head. You’ll have to teach me some day. She hadn’t even begun to think about it. What she would do after this mission was over. The whole point of doing this was so she could be granted her freedom. She wanted it so badly a couple of days ago. But now. She hadn’t even thought of staying as a possibility. Because to her, it wasn’t. She couldn’t invade Miguel’s life like that. She wasn’t even 100% sure how she felt about him, much less on how he felt about her. Besides, no matter how much she just wanted to settle down with someone. To live an actual life. She didn’t deserve it. 

Pulling away from him was like separating herself from her source of life, but she did it anyways. “You okay?” Miguel asked concerned. “Yeah, I just gotta freshen up for a second,” she said, wiping her nose. She turned around quickly to get away. Too quickly though, bumping into someone’s back on her way to the bathroom. 

Knocked off her balance, and her headband knocked out of her hair, she fell to the floor on her ass. “Sorry about that,” she said, slightly dissociated, reaching out for her headband. The stranger also reached down to help with her headband. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it gorgeous.”

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

That voice.

“Don’t lose your heart.”

She desperately wanted to keep her eyes glued to the floor. She didn’t want to look at him. But she had to keep her cover up. So she did, as slowly as she could though. And it was the worst possibly outcome.

He looked just like him. Strawberry blonde hair. Deep blue eyes. Small scar just above right eyebrow. His bottom two teeth fighting for room on the bottom row of his mouth. There was only one difference though. One of her favorite parts about him. This Eddie was missing his freckles. His beautiful light brown freckles.

She gave the stranger with her dead boyfriend’s face a strained smile while she grabbed her headband and rushed behind to the door. Her own brain pounding in her head was too loud for her to hear Miguel as she nearly ran passed him. She slammed the door to the outside open as she took in the air like it was her first breath ever. Even if she was outside now, she kept running. She sprinted down the streets, not taking any of her surroundings into account. She saw him in everyone’s face. His ghost had always been haunting her, but she wasn’t ready for him to move from behind her back to in front of her face. She ran so far and so fast until her legs ached, and even after that. She didn’t even know where she was going. She didn’t care. She just needed to get away from him as quickly as possible. Even if that meant leaving Miguel behind too. 

Her sprint was interrupted when her foot was caught in a change in the elevation on the sidewalk. Her face slammed into the concrete sidewalk, scraping her cheek and her knees. She used the rest of her strength, all drained out from her bolting, to crawl into a nearby alley. She made her way to the back and slunk down into the corner, hoping to meld into the brick behind her. Especially if it meant she never had to see him again.

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

a/n: THIS TOOK ME SO LONG OH MY GOD. sorry if i messed some stuff up with the drinks, i dont drink so i really have no idea (im just a stoner instead lmao). UGH BUT I THINK THIS WAS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER TO WRITE I LOVED IT AND I HOPE YOU GUYS DID TOO

taglist: @the-ikran-man @jenniferdixon05207 @yuuuumii @elwyn7 @waniesss @lust-for-pan @natthernandez @pix-stuff @ang3lf4c3 @artfulthoughtswp @notwildlyfamous

[ribbonsandhair]

LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS WITH MISSY!!!1!1!1!1!1!

this is about atsv and just the spiderverse in general cause I just love it sm BUT ANYWAYS!!!!!

has anyone ever realized just how like CREEPY the concept of the spiderverse is? like if I was in a room where it was different versions of me, who have lived different lives and made different decisions along with its consequences, I’d be freaking tf out 😭😭😭 especially when miguel brings up the canon event theory and how in the end spiderman looses SOMEONE. it’s like the spiderperson is bound to suffer no matter what they do just because they got bit by a spider.

also what got me thinking about this and how existential it is was when in the comics of the spiderverse (idk which it was but I kinda remember what happened) pavitr was talking to another spiderman about how they’re all different variations of one person and aren’t completely unique or original. he even thought he didn’t do enough as spiderman and just felt like he wasn’t achieving as much as the others. which leads me to my other point as to how overwhelming it can be to be a spiderperson. like not only is it kinda unnerving knowing that there’s another you somewhere in the universe and also along with the fact that ur made for suffering, but there’s different spidermen and women who have probably done more than you and it just leave you like “oh wow im pretty fucking bad at this lol!”

and then along with atsv, it’s even creepier when you think that maybe, before miles, there were other spiderpeople who were against Miguel’s canon event theory. his theory barely makes sense but it also does??? but how can you even begin to use logic on the multiverse, which (in the wise words of dr strange) “we know terrifyingly little of.” like ik that Miguel’s universe is way more advanced than the others, but again the universe is constantly changing and expanding, which can cause new ways and concepts that we probably won’t be able to figure out for years. and what ended up happening to those spiderpeople who were against him?

ALSOOOO let’s talk about Pavitr’s dimension because JESUS CHRIST???? ITS LITERALLY GETTING SUCKED IN BY A BLACK HOLE (LIKE HOW OETER WARNED IN THE FIRST MOVIE) AND NOBODY IS WORRIED??? ALSO UHH CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT IN HIS EARTH’S ALCHEMAX, THEY WERE BUILDING A FUCKING COLLIDERRRRRRR?!(&3@2@2 LIKE WHO AUTHORIZED THAT?? was it mfin KINGPIN or did scientists feel a little silly and decided to build a whole ass machine that can create a rip in the fabric of space. AND THE FACT THAT IT ALSO WORKED TOO BRO…. LIKE UHMMM???

and then what’s gonna happen to pavitrs dimension bro 🤨 because I’m sure we’ve all seen that one picture from one of the artists giving a whole visual set to how the spiderverse net thing works. dimensions aren’t completely gone, but rather disconnected…. so what about gabi’s too 😭😭 it literally said that it was just snapped off, and spiders can always weave their webs back together. in the image we also show how pavitr’s isn’t completely unattached, but holding on by a few threads. would they end up finding a way to fix it???

also I’ve had this unrealistic theory lmao where they travel back in time and the entire story just resets!!!! it’s silly but tbh since we know time traveling is possible since Hobie’s universe is based in the 70s? im pretty sure AND GWEN TIME TRAVELED A WEEK WHEN SHE FIRST WENT TO MILES DIMENSION BRO. like maybe the way to fix things is if the collider never happened, because that was the root of the entire problem, right? idk man but it’s just there’s so many possibilities and i cannot fucking wait 😭😭😭

[rappaccini]

arachnophobia ch6 notes

title

from 'face it, tiger' by married with sea monsters

married with sea monsters made an ep of songs for gwen's band when she first debuted. this is the canon sound of gwen-65a's mary janes. it's the first thing you read her first issue.

of course i'm gonna use it for the 65a visit.

and this is the chapter where gwen... hits the jackpot and finds someone who helps herself commit to doing better, owning who she is, and carrying on when it's tough.

opening quote

from the 2013 sci-fi tv series orphan black, about a group of women who discover they're clones from a defunct illegal experiment, and struggle to maintain their autonomy while dealing with religious extremists, cops, corporations and government entities that want to control them. an absolutely incredible show featuring one of the best performances by an actress you'll ever see (she plays ALL the clones).

in context, this quote is from one clone, cosima, to another, sarah. sarah's a rogue clone, and a punk (GREAT representation of british punks by the way, probably the last great one i've seen in mainstream media before hobie came along in atsv), who's often demonized for being reckless, difficult to control and unwilling to play by the rules the biotech corporation the clones are technically owned by have set up for her. sarah also worries that she's a selfish, cruel person because of these qualities, and in this moment, cosima's telling her that being that kind of woman made it possible for her to keep existing.

related to the content of this chapter in that gwen stacy is a character who is famously cloned, and has those clones' autonomy mocked and dismissed because they're not 'the real person'. and that this is two multiples of the same person, who are still their own distinct individuals, meeting while one's having an existential crisis, and discussing how being too unwilling to play by the guys' rules helped gwen a survive and keep her power. because she separated from peter and resented being his designated girlfriend, and because she embraced those messy, selfish emotions, she not only got to live and be the protagonist, but get to keep her powers. being that messy unlikable undesirable bitch was what saved her.

arrival in 65a

times square: ref to gwen's debut appearance.there's one panel of her in costume zooming over times square with a little girl wearing a spider-gwen costume looking on.

jjj is the mayor in 65a's continuity. in 65b's he seems like he's still a tv personality.

on 65a, there's no such thing as artificial sugar. i figure she'd be able to taste the difference, and it'd probably make her emotional after being away for so long.

my internal logic re number vs letter designation with universes is different numbers are entirely different realities with different physics, but different letters designate different timelines that operate by the same laws of nature. ergo, gwen can lose the portal watch in 65a and won't glitch out, but it still isn't HER world. she cannot do that on 138b, because she isn't made of the same matter.

the fire-hero is johnny storm, from the comics.

in the comics, the beautiful jewel-toned smearing of the light really only exists on the covers of the comics. the tones remain, but the smearing is much more minimal in the actual book. in the movie, they make the world so informed by gwen's emotions that it's a little to tell where the hell anything is. i'm trying to excuse that as her being stuck in her head due to her emotional conflict. once she's settled down and focused, things open up again.

and 'get out of your head and let the world in' is very much one of the big themes for this chapter. gwen's spent months ruminating on things, time to apply them.

the spider-gwen kiosk is a comics ref. after gwen gets out of prison, she's become a celebrity with merch stands. and the costume is again, a ref to that little girl in gwen's debut. there's just something very important about her being loved by little girls in her dimension.

and meta as well: at this point, spider-gwen is the female spider-hero (and the version of gwen stacy) most young girls know. she's enormously popular with them thanks to her presence in various cartoons and yes, the films. her future in 10-15 years when those girls start picking up her comics is hopefully promising. it's just a matter of what state her character will be in when those girls are old enough to discover her, and whether they'll have to find out she used to be her own person (... before becoming Miles's Girlfriend, in all likelihood), or if they'll already know that going in. i hope it's the latter. i'm afraid it'll be the former.

in the fic-version of 65a, comics-gwen has no involvement with the multiverse. in the comics, she first encounters it in her debut issue, right after her father learns her identity (like in atsv), but also only 2 years into her time as spider-woman (unlike in atsv, which stalls film-gwen's development for an entire year to keep her stuck in her debut issue). and she's constantly in and out of the multiverse ever since. in the fic, she has none of those experiences, so she doesn't know what it means to be gwen stacy.

also she doesn't call herself ghost-spider yet, since she's the only spider-woman she knows of.

gwen b's experience with gayatri taught her to tell her, and give her the autonomy.

plus, a's in prison as far as she knows, and b is really against being trapped at this point after her time in the ss.

gwen b learning how gwen dies probably really took a bite out of her confidence. can't imagine she wouldn't be anxious while webslinging, or doubting herself in a fight after that.

i figure gwen b's fine with pickpocketing in a pinch. girl's been homeless for eight months and spent many of them with hobie.

post-prison, gwen-65a's public reputation improved; people sell merch of her, are more friendly to her... but by the end of her solo, her status quo is that she's disliked by the media and law enforcement. i like that. it's important that she be on the outs. it's a unique element to her story, and maintains the meta of her being a specifically female superhero, and a gwen-who-gets-to-be-a-hero: the universe won't be kind to her. but she keeps going anyway.

girls like gwen: that meta of it being the case irl, and of the importance of her character as a specifically feminist one. the most important thing is that she is here to tell stories for and about girls and women that center them and their struggles.

the storm siblings, in ghost-spider, are influencers who vanished, then returned 5 years later with superpowers and became celebrity 'heroes'. comics gwen used to be a fan of theirs. i figure gwen b as a zoomer would have followed them. they don't seem to exist in 65b.

specifically, they're heroes who are wrapped up in the idea of public palatability, who arrive when gwen's trying to get people's opinions of her to improve, and who consider her too ugly and flawed to be worthy of her status as new york's iconic hero. gwen 65a is too unphotogenic for them, and her world (... and probably the movies too, given what they chose to remove from her adaptation).

gwen's ridden the trains in the comics.

in-fic timeline: atsv is vaguely set in may, the earth-8 blowup happens in late june, and gwen's birthday is roughly 6 weeks from that, so fic-gwen was born in aug, which is when this scene takes place.

the inky shadows are one of the best things about takeshi miyazawa and ig guara's vision of 65 in the mcguire ghost-spider run.

skyscraper bones: the gentrification of comic-gwen's nyc is still under way.

the spider-gwen mural was made by 65a's hobie brown. a d-story in the latour run is him gaining respect for spider-woman enough to memorialize her after he believes she died. he comes a long way from spraying her in the face with paint and calling her a cop/dadfucker. that's their first meeting in the comics. it's hilarious.

moon + howl: references to man-wolf, whose criminal activities are tuned to the lunar cycle.

gwen's preparing to go home. seeing 65a makes her want to go back and find these people she hasn't encountered yet. even the bad ones.

her father isn't dead in the comics. changed here to ref the gwen-617 meeting at the end of the latour run, where gwen encounters a version of og gwen, after her father dies but before she's killed, who tells her to get back in the fight because at least she still has a dad.

gwen's future where the ss picks her up is not bright. she literally loses her powers, is manhunted, forced to join the hand, and her father is nearly beaten to death on kingpin's orders to punish her. she goes to prison, where she's surrounded by her villains and has no way to protect herself. she gets venomized. she can't be a consistent member of the mary janes anymore. she emerges in a world where her future isn't very bright. movie-gwen seeing that future would be terrified of it.

... and yet all those things work out. she gets her powers back, via venom. she's the one who chooses to give up her secret identity. her father quits the force and supports her. and she gets through prison and comes out the other side.

a fall from grace is another kind of fall.

and all gwen needs to know is that it's possible to survive it. now she does.

privilege: at the end of the latour run she acknowledges that her sentence is lenient bc she's a white girl, a cop's daughter, and she's given the opportunity to skip her sentence and get a life of relative comfort... as long as she starts working for the government on a black ops team (probably the thunderbolts of 65).

it should be noted that comics gwen refuses that offer and chooses to remain in prison, where she's constantly beaten and abused, bc she distrusts the government and values her independence that much.

meeting herself

post-release, gwen is a minor celebrity and not well liked. people take pics of her in public, she's kicked out of restaurants who don't want her associated with them, she can't tour with the janes.

but to a girl who thinks she doesn't have a future at all, that must sound wonderful.

first references to swimming/drowning/paddling in the river. motif for this chapter.

the latour run deals heavily in themes of government/justice/police corruption, while the mcguire run drops those. part of me thinks it's just discontinuity. in-universe the explanation seems to be that because gwen's actions caused the collapse of the hand, who control nyc at that point, the corruption cleared up by a lot. the world is better because she's spider-woman.

gwen works odd shitty retail jobs in the comics. bodega clerk, smoothie shop cashier. it's one of the most appealing things about her-- she isn't a science whiz about to join a fancy startup or a government super-spy. she's just getting by.

gwen's using the hobie's-boat-smell as a source of comfort. it's where she was consistently living for the past eight months, and it reminds her of someone she loves. (also, more river motif.)

gentrification is a theme in gwen's early comics.

first ref to a gummy spider.

and to gwen eating kale chips.

gwen a's watching a stream of the mary janes' latest gig. and she also uses corded earbuds, not airpods, because she's a young millennial.

gwen briefly tried being a hero through an app/website in the comics after her identity was exposed. the storms put an end to that.

comic-gwen is canonically average looking, compared to movie-gwen, who is canonically pretty. comic-gwen is also thinner (due to symbiote-siphoning of her fat reserves), with a skinnier face, longer hair that's a bit lighter in shade, no facial piercings, and straighter teeth.

and comics-gwen's an ex-con who was canonically beaten within an inch of her life constantly by other inmates, and people know who she is. she's gonna be nervous about strange people.

gwen b's wearing hobie's shoes (and likely a sweater that they passed back and forth), gayatri's shirt-that-pav-probably-also-wore, and the haircut miles technically caused. all pieces of people she loves, and left, and let down.

important to have some continuity with perfect gwen and gayatri: when first encountering a version of themself, each of them instantly responds with empathy.

comics-gwen also loves meeting alt versions of herself, and positions herself as a big sister figure to a lot of them. she's taking this in stride.

you're me, and i'm you: callback to gayatri.

gwen b at this point thought gwen a was incarcerated, and was planning to break her out of jail. again, like with gayatri, she's trying to save her self. though in this case, b's the one in need of saving.

another great, okay, fine callback.

literally earth-8 gwen isn't what gwen needs (@ the dudes who wrote sitting in a tree, and everyone who thinks that really is a good outcome for her). she doesn't need to be famous, or rich, or a career hero, or a gorgeous beloved superwife-and-mom. she just needs to know that she can live, and that she can have her own life where people let her stand on her own.

growing up: big theme here.

and to gwen b, a version of her who made it past 19 is extraordinary.

you can't tell me you wouldn't have weird fucking thoughts about what's causing the little differences between you and your alt self. skull thoughts!

gwen a probably deals with weird selfie requests and cosplayers all the time.

jackal: one of gwen-65a's major new villains. a creepy professor from 616/peter parker's world, who's into cloning and was always obsessed with gwen stacy sexually, who stalks spider-gwen into her world and intends to set up shop there (... until cancellation/editorial hierarchy dragged him back). the dog days arc he's involved in was literally nominated for a hugo award bc it's that good.

in the fic though, i'm just gonna imagine that 65's jackal, who 616 jackal kills off, is still that creeper.

also a reference to shadow clones, the latest ghost-spider miniseries, where she gets cloned. in the fic continuity that hasn't happened yet, and might not at all bc i'm pretty sure lyla (yup, a lyla) bennett is another crossover villain, who can't exactly cross over if there's no way gwen a is able to freely access the multiverse.

comics gwen had a potty mouth when she first debuted. let her keep it!

earth-66 is the dinosaur dimension where t-rex-spider-man is from. chosen bc it's literally the next one up numerically from earth-65 and it'd be funny as hell.

what the fuck happens now: another gayatri callback.

betty's apartment

comics gwen loves corn dogs.

pastrami sandwiches were eaten by gwen65 and gwen617 in the comics during their existential crisis summit.

the nickname convo was just me taking my 'what the fuck do i call all these gwens' convo and loading it into the fic. also stacy stacy was her nickname during that two-gwens issue.

maxine. yeah i'm headcanoning that film-gwen, who i'm interpreting as trans, was probably named max originally. easy way to reinterpret the middle name that also expands on her trans identity and her relationship with her dad: yes, he's okay with her being trans, but guys he's a catholic cop, he's not gonna be THAT okay with it. he wants her to be girly, and straight, and he's gonna have an opinion about her changing her name. and since gwen assuming her full identity is gradual, at the time that she changed names, she was willing to compromise with the middle name in that way in order to get it.

gwen a and gwen b was just me caving to the peter b method. it's simple!

gwen a's status quo post rescue in the comics that she isn't wanted anymore and the cops get along with her bc her dad... sigh. rejoins the police force. hate that! skipping it for the fic! here he's dead, so the cops still are mixed on her: she's his daughter, but she's also why he ended up dead and disgraced.

regardless, gwen a is still viewed as someone's daughter, instead of someone. a theme.

betty's place is largely as described in the comics. gwen's been known to sleep over there often.

first ref to 'the girls' -- and another gummy sighting.

i swear if the spiderverse movies' big subversion with gwen is 'good news! you don't have to die, and you can have superpowers! but you still have to be someone's girlfriend!' ......... not enough.

going from the dead helpless gf to the living superhero gf isn't enough. because she's still the girlfriend. and her having powers won't even be about her; it'll be about the boy scoring a powerful girl, and getting to have her help him on his adventures. not as bad as being left at home during the fight, not as good as her getting to fight her own battles.

salt: gwen can have powers, but only as long as she's using them to support miles's story. she can have a plotline, as long as it never develops her into someone he doesn't find attractive or who wouldn't want a relationship with him. she can be a hero, just not as good a hero as he is. she can be special, but she can never be as good as or better than him.

salt: if you've ever gotten the vibe that spiderverse gwen is lacking something special in her powerset compared to the others, you're right. they literally didn't adapt her special skill (being a symbiote host). it feels like they started and stopped at 'she's the only girl, so looking pretty when she fights is her unique ability.' (it is not.)

jess's spider-silk comes from her fingertips in the movie. hobie's lightning palms are a headcanon, as is pav's greater strength, but they come from little details about their fighting abilities.

fun fact: according to marvel editorial, gwen-65 isn't allowed to drink alcohol bc of her target audience being middle-school to hs aged kids. i'm gonna roll with an in-universe explanation of: it'll fuck with her symbiote.

betty and gwen are the same size in the comics, but not at all in the film.

betty's cat murderface is wonderful. he even has his own theme song.

another gummy sighting.

lavender perfume: ref to action comics gwen, who sets her apartment on fire due to the number of scented candles she has going at once.

letting the transdimensional grime go: another small way she's getting ready to go home.

gwen a might not be on tour, but she's still part of the band.

glory does the drum subbing in the comics.

comics refs: betty brant has taylor swift on vinyl. nightmare! at the nightclub is a panic at the disco ref, and one of em jay's favorite bands. and betty got detention for playing swedish death metal over the school intercom. (also, gwen likes veronica mars. i figure that's her poster, not betty's)

movie and comics betty have totally different looks and vibes.

and comics betty is probably gwen's closest friend. movie betty doesn't hesitate to snatch her spot in the band when she quits.

mateo. gwen's bland love interest in shadow clones, her latest miniseries. get that dick gwen, but don't call him back.

clowntown is earth 65's mcdonalds.

gwen's recent comics amped up the sexual tension between her and em. em literally wrote a pick-me song that gwen thinks is about her. and she's jealous about gwen getting attention for being a hero/not focusing her energy on her.

otherwise, em and glory are a couple. i love their relationship, and i don't think gwen and em actually match personality-wise to be a couple, but man do i want them to have a disastrous hookup.

gwen and em were friends since sixth grade, and came up with the idea for the band together then. glory and em started it in detention when they were seniors.

comics-gwen's band are her best friends, who rally around her after learning she's spider-woman. movie gwen's band... don't seem to be that.

the bombing/harry's coma comes from the recent comics. man-wolf did it. and the bodega bandit's health struggles and gwen's compassion for him were a big part of that run too.

the og plan for carnage 65 was that gwen's suit was reproducing and would've eventually latched onto em as a new host. i'm taking that element and applying it here to the fic: it's still shedding, it just hasn't chosen a host yet, and gwen a's aware of this and trying to find a solution.

comics gwen loves exploring new worlds. she'd have loved touring. and setting up b offering to let a tag along on multiverse jumps.

harry osborn. comics gwen went to the prom with him, not peter. he was the third party to their hs friendship-- it was a trio, not a duo. they have a sweet on again off again romance that's probably the best of any of comics gwen's love interests.

gwen's spotting peter in the back of that photo. it would've been taken literally minutes before he lizarded out and attacked harry.

the gum wrapper's hobie's.

the gummy liking gwen is foreshadowing.

fire escape

movie gwen's ock seems to be right out of the raimi films. comic gwen's ock is a villain of the week working under moon, whose octopus is a literal animal instead of robo-arms.

movie gwen seems to have gone through a kraven's last hunt canon event. in the comics, he's a villain of the week who has a swarm of animal minions, instead of a hunter.

fwiw i like movie gwen having a more menacing ock. if they're gonna empty out her canon rogues gallery, they'd better put in a few new ones to make up for it.

comics gwen got bitten at a political protest. cindy moon was the creator of her spider, who made it for herself, and took gwens' powers away out of anger that she got them instead.

gwen's biggest male villains are men who want to control her or punish her for defying their control. and women who want to take her place on the pedestal. jess and miguel fit perfectly into that theming.

the storm siblings are villains in the comics. they're only 'heroes' for clout and try to kill/drive gwen out to keep the city to themselves. in the comics they succeed, bc the comic was cancelled and editorial wanted to force gwen to be a supporting character in peter's world. in the fic, they haven't, bc they don't know about the multiverse, and bc this gwen's father is dead and known associates are out of town, so they can't threaten her out of the city yet.

one of the original plans for johnny was that he'd eventually turn on his sister, bc he's much less evil than she is.

i figure movie-gwen's no responsibility phase was probably her being an influencer. that shot of her grabbing the camera before leaping off the roof in her itsv backstory intro gives me that vibe, plus she's a zoomer. she'd try it.

a's trying to make b feel less embarrassed with the green-hair-and-piercing story (which is canon)

also a way to segue into talking about other changes: comics gwen is from queens, movie gwen is from chelsea. comics gwen isn't a dancer, and was bitten at 17. movie gwen is, and was bitten at 13.

in the comics, em is white.

in the comics, og gwen debuted in december. adapting that for fic-gwen a's birth month.

in the comics, gwen's bitten at a political protest. in the movie, it's implied she got bit... in class. hm. there go her politics. thaaanks.

gwen a thinks gwen b is new at being spider-woman, bc she's now the exact age a was when she got started.

i figure b's age is due to the writers aging her down (... sigh. to be miles's gf). she still has the two-years-experience when she enters the films that she did in the comics. i figure they just didn't think through the implications of aging her down.

it's batshit that a 13yo girl was being hunted by the cops and throwing herself into dangerous situations. girl literally has more experience than hobie does, and she was doing it younger than even him. it also means that the manhunt lasted for two years instead of one, and she had to live with it while she was 14 or so. poor kid.

spider-girl was the original name proposed for spider-gwen. you can still kinda see it in the script for the debut issue. spider-woman was better.

becoming spider-woman is tied in with gwen's implied transness in the films. like anything, it's a process. it's canon in the movies that gwen only joined the janes after being bitten, so presumably the bite gave her the courage. building on that: getting a piercing that isn't to her ears, shortening her hair, starting to skip dance. all aspects of her gender identity that being spider-woman gives her the strength to start negotiating... but only in secret.

gwens' outgrowing her suit and name, to set up her adopting new ones.

growing up: gwen was too young to be spider-woman, yet she was. it works because it was her choice to become that.

earth-8 salt: aside from gwen's character being wildly out of step with 65-gwen, her supposed past self, earth-8's shady as hell. if gwen and miles are perfect parents, why are they letting their preteens be members of an otherwise all-adult hero team and letting them go into battle.

ghosting miles: what gwen did after sitting in a tree. she hung all over him, cooing about how 'if only they could be together someday' and then dropped his ass and never spoke to him again. good for her, may she continue to duck that boy.

blue coloring: the underwater/river theming continues.

about peter

not happy, but content-- this comes up a few times in the fic.

'half in love' -- callback to pav.

peter-65b is so different from peter-65a. for one, movie gwen reciprocates his crush on her and they're going to the dance together (not prom, dance; gwen can't have been older than 14 or 15 during that scene, and prom's for upperclassmen).

i don't vibe with that change. movie gwen having genuine romantic interest in miles and peter, when her comics self doesn't, is a huge misread of her character that robs her of a lot of her meaning. she's not their girlfriend, and can never be their girlfriend if she's going to remain the protagonist of her own story.

i recontextualize it in the fic as gwen being... fine, with those feelings towards both boys (since her feelings for them are linked as similar in the film). but not quite being madly in love with them.

esp given that gwen b is trans. not a lot of options for a high school romance in that situation. going along with peter's feelings would be her only chance at one, and i think that's something gwen b wants/wishes she could have had because part of the stereotypical girlhood experience is being a subject of attraction for boys; if a boy likes her, it's working.

look: high school romances almost never work out. they're not meant to. they're for teenagers to explore their feelings, playact romance for the first time and start to learn what they want from future partners. not for them to make serious world-changing commitments of love when they're not even adults yet.

from the bottom of my heart: even if miles and gwen do get together, it's a training wheels relationship. she's gonna break up with him when she graduates, or if she doesn't, that's a yikes, because she's stuck waiting on him when she should be moving into adulthood.

gwen b's hangup is that she was denied the chance for that kind of romance-- with peter, because he died. with miles, because they were separated too long and by the time they reunited her crush on him had cooled, she had a thing with hobie and she was in a different headspace. girl was homeless for five months, an interdimensional secret agent, living with an anarchist who she was probably sleeping with. there's no way you can go back to cute high school romance after that. and that's okay.

there is no miles morales in 65. in the comics, his parents don't meet. i assume it's the same in the film. so gwen a assumes that b is talking about miles warren. there's a hot-for-teacher joke that used to be here.

still. very interesting that comics gwen has to contend with advances from a guy named miles who sees her as an object to possess. and so does movie gwen, except comic gwen's miles is an evil villain, and movie gwen's is a hero her age. different situations... but same result: gwen being denied her agency by a miles who wants something from her that will hurt her if she gives it to him.

miles isn't gwen's best friend. in canon, she knew him for one bus ride and then never again. she knows pav and hobie far better by the time miles comes back into the picture. they are closer to her than miles ever was. and in the fic, that's even more so, bc she and miles only hang out for one afternoon, then a month; but she's known hobie for about 7 and pav for about 5.

gwen being out of the loop with miles will come back in chapter 7. he's changing too. she doesn't realize that.

miles is important to gwen, but he's not her boyfriend or her best friend.

growing up: you're gonna regret the shit you never did as much as you regret the shit you did. gwen b needs closure on the gwiles-aversion. yes, it could've been nice in some other scenario, but it didn't happen. and it's okay that it didn't happen and she can be both sad and relieved about it.

the forest hills house

in the comics, gwen and her father have a home in forest hills, where they're next-door neighbors to the parkers. usually that's mj's role, so it was a fun switchup.

i'm trying to infuse movie gwen with her comics self's history where it feels compliant. so, same grandfather. same house. her mom dies later than in the comics, which is ~when gwen came out to her dad, and the strain of those medical bills causes them to lose the house and move to the city (... which was also motivated by gwen's transness. she'd have an easier time there than in a suburb).

the house being helen's is a headcanon on my part. george stacy was in the yancy street gang as a kid, so he probably wouldn't have enough money to buy a house in the 'burbs, or family who'd leave it for him. helen would.

jennifer walters was comics gwen's lawyer.

comics gwen's dad is still alive and the house is still theirs. in this fic though, he isn't, and gwen sells the house to pay for the lawyer.

growing up: the girls are having a moment of immaturity for shits and giggles. gwen a's feeling nostalgic and seeking a little closure that b inspires her to do something about.

standard high is where 616 gwen went to school. 65 gwen went to midtown with peter. standard's also where action gwen goes to high school-- it's got uniforms, so it's presumably a prep or religous school. i went with catholic so we could have the reference to saints, to joan specifically (a woman who's hated and killed for defying gender norms to go into battle, who's deified only after her death). and to the spider-society being basically a religion.

also, comics gwen's family isn't religious, but her mother had a christian burial. presumably there was something of a disillusionment afterwards. i'm assuming the same for movie gwen, given that we see her saying grace with her dad and the parkers.

helen stacy's death is unknown. in the comics, she dies when gwen's a baby. in the film, no answer. i'm assuming it was an illness and she died in gwen's childhood. more angst that way, and i figure gwen coming out to her dad after her mom's death would make him more willing to accept it.

the parkers are supporting chars in the latour run but totally vanish in mcguire's. out of universe, the author probably forgot. in universe, maybe they moved now that peter's death has closure, and they're probably not too thrilled about living next to the girl who killed him.

ned's peter's bully in the movie; he attacks ned specifically, so they're going with him being triggered by his bullies and 'wanting to be a hero' like gwen (who was presumably starting to fight crime at that point).

in the comics, peter is also bullied, not necessarily by ned. but he doesn't attack the prom in an attempt at being a hero, or standing up to his bullies. he becomes the lizard bc he's embarrassed that gwen, a girl, is fighting his battles for him. he tries to kill his own friend because he's angry that she went out with him instead. comics peter is an incel.

i really fucking hate that they made gwen return his feelings and smoothed up his motivations in the movie.

a gwen who isn't interested in peter parker romantically, and literally kills him to get him off of her and does not fucking like being forced to be someone's girlfriend would be too subversive, i guess. especially in a story where she's only in it to be the male hero's girlfriend.

(especially a hero who has trauma related to watching peter parker be killed by having his ribs bashed in by someone's bare fists)

the comics don't really go into that, to be fair. it's all mentioned, but never dwelled on. plus peter's very deified by the for peter campaigns, and the library.

peter calling her doll, and her hating that, is from the mcguire run. she knew he was into her and didn't like it.

shades of gray: gwen a knows her peter isn't a good person in the end, but still regrets killing him and wishes things had worked out. she doesn't want to absolve herself, but she wants to forgive herself (... which she can only get from another version of herself).

there are worse things you can do: hobie callback. total forgiveness and understanding from gwen b.

gwen b's still a little too black and white. she goes from demonizing the peter killing to wishing she could've done it now that she knows the context. missing the point, which a calls her on.

in the comics, gwen a gets her powers back because she stays bonded to venom. her costume is dope. her powerset is dope. the themes of a girl finding literal power in embracing her demons instead of exorcising them are dope.

... no wonder the movies didn't adapt the symbiote. again, too transgressive. draws attention away from miles, gives her powers he doesn't have, a girl having messy emotions is a turn-off... and no boy would want to touch someone wearing that suit.

the symbiote's made of tiny goopy shapeshifting spiders.

it gives gwen all the basic spider-powers, except now she has organic webbing. she can breathe underwater, in a burning building, and with her nose and mouth covered (which she learns thanks to sue strangling her). it can resemble any outfit/camouflage her as well as miles's invisibility. it can heal her.

allegorically, gwen's power-up pill era was her being dependent on drugs and forced to see an abuser to get them.

the suit is gross and terrifying. it makes gwen physically repulsive to look at yet it's what sets her free and allows her to keep her agency. that's why b is drawn to it.

its diet is from the comics. kale chips!

yes, gwen in the comics calls her gummies 'the girls.' and they are called 'gummy spiders' too.

poltergeists: lots of ghost imagery in this chapter.

on the roof

gwen a discusses her anger the same way she'd talk about the symbiote. that's what it's symbolic of: all her unattractive 'dangerous' instincts and feelings. you know, the ones that girls are encouraged to repress or deny.

b wants a symbiote bad at this point.

gwen b's so stuck on not killing peter bc she's afraid of how it affects her arc. the one thing true about canon events is that people don't change unless something triggers it. and in the case of comics gwen, her compassion, her aversion to killing, her awareness of her anger's consequences, her tendency to pull her punches and her understanding of the moral grays of being a villain stem from killing peter, and the trauma and regret of that situation.

sure, movie gwen never got her hands dirty. but she also never learned those lessons.

movie gwen stagnates for a full year in her debut issue. she hasn't made any progress since itsv, while miles grows so much. she's still stuck at the start of her arc, unable to move on. probably to make sure she isn't too mature for miles.

movie gwen's world is missing a lot of key characters. aside from the janes not being her friends, harry's gone. that removes the incel subtext of peter's character, and means her symbiote either won't exist or has to happen in a different way.

so literally: the atsv writers hollowing out gwen's world to make her lonely and remove any rivals for miles, and any hangups she'd have about being the hero's girlfriend, is directly leading to her not being able to grow as a person or get the thing that empowers her. i hate gwiles, i'm sorry, i hate this ship so much, because of what it does to gwen. no matter how nice he is, no matter how cute they are, she can only be with him if she's stagnating.

important to point out that's the issue with gwen's film world being different. things don't have to happen the same way, but if you make a change, make it to enhance a character, not detract from them.

comics-gwen's dad quit the force for her too.

divergence: he doesn't die due to that coma. i already told you the change was to homage gwen-617. so's a chewing out b for not going home: "i would do anything to have more time with my dad" is all 617.

coming home

gwen coming home on her birthday was a happy accident.

since this gwen's a few months older than her movie canon counterpart, is voluntarily going home with the knowledge that things CAN work out, and has a portal watch to take her away and at least two places she can go in the event that it doesn't, i imagine their conversation goes down differently. instead of an emotionally devastated kid with nowhere to go begging her dad to please not arrest her, she's coming to him to let him know that she wants to come home but will be okay if she can't.

and bc she's coming home with agency, she's going to want to keep it. they have to talk, seriously, about terms for her return. gwen's growing up, and she can't lose that ground.

this is the testing part of the seven stages of grief. time to evaluate whether the new solutions of meeting her self, going home and adopting a symbiote are possible. they are!

her dad has a visions sweatshirt. presumably he went there or gwen did.

gwen invites her older self over for dinner and to spend the night as a thank you for getting the family back together. and probably to help explain where the fuck she's been.

i assume a and her dad are having a very emotional daddaughter convo while gwen's dismantling her bedroom.

the 'other reason' gwen can't sleep is the symbiote. gwen knows a's here to offer it to her, and she wants it.

coming home to your childhood room after spending months elsewhere is difficult. you realize that the person you were when you left isn't the person you are when you return. another part of growing up is getting that feeling for the first time.

functionally speaking: gwen was homeless for eight months. being homeless teaches you pragmatism. she's not going to look at the clutter the same way again.

gwen spent seven-ish months sleeping most consistently in hobie's bed, with hobie next to her. she's used to that, and would miss it.

more river smell nod. both because she misses hobie, and because taking that fall from grace, hitting the metaphorical hudson, and absorbing the stench is what gwen needs most, and being her father's daughter won't let her do that.

one of the conditions her father and she agreed on was: gwen will still be spider-woman, but she has to be honest about where she's going and what she's up to.

yes it's shitty of her to be leaving so soon. but she has to make it clear to her dad that she's serious about it, or he'll revert to dad mode and start smothering her again.

gwen's doing the jump at twilight to lessen the chance of someone seeing them.

in the comics, em is the host of venom's offspring. here, it's gonna be gwen b. the timing worked out, and since fic-a has no multiverse experience, there'd be no way for that plot to be resolved otherwise. also it's confusing as hell to write two gwenoms. b had to get a different symbiote for my own sanity.

"carnage beforehand" -- yup, it's carnage. gwen won't call it that, but that's who it is.

also, carnage was killing em jay. the symbiote's tuned to gwen's genetics, and would've killed her with radiation poisoning if she kept it for too long. so gwen b is literally the perfect host.

miguel, peter b and george would all refuse to let gwen get the symbiote. peter b and george bc of their dad instincts, miguel bc he's a control freak using dad instincts to justify his control freakiness.

jess would be repulsed: she has a strong sense of What's Allowed and What's Not, and consensually joining with a symbiote for good is definitely Not.

miles and pav are kind boys, but they're boys and they're spider-men. they'd see this as gwen being corrupted and confused and needing to be saved from herself.

and hobie wouldn't stop her from doing something to reinforce her autonomy, but in his world venom's the uniform of the riot police so even he'd be averse to the symbiote.

b bonding with carnage would actually be a good solution for 65a. it saves the otherwise-host em from the pain and trauma of being a host, and 65 from destruction. and it removes a potential villain from a's dimension.

it also solves the problem of 65b not having a clear path to gwen getting her symbiote. fuck it, we'll outsource.

and it is also gwen wanting its power. wanting to become something that would terrify the society and scare off anyone who'd want to put her in the girlfriend box again. wanting to be angry and self-preservationist and never having to worry about being alone for it again. and wanting a way to preserve that anger and keep control over it.

plus, the gwens have a reason to hang out now.

'give it to me'' -- callback to chapter 3's infirmary scene. a final step in gwen's transition, now along with the final evolution of her as a hero: surrendering the need to fit into any prescribed boxes about what she's allowed to be, embracing what it'll take to make her happy and let her live, and being affirmed in it regardless of what people think of it.

gwen 65's world is at its best when it's horror adjacent. her major rogues are mad scientists and their creations, a devil, a werewolf, an invisible woman... and venom, who is technically a demon that she's possessed by.

they're on the george washington bridge. a leap of faith is a classic affirmation of a spider-hero's identity. and this particular bridge has such a heavy history with gwen in particular that it's gonna trigger the emotional reaction needed to activate and bond with the symbiote.

comics gwen did bond with her symbiote over music!

she also fed her symbiote to her dad, so it could heal him from his coma, and be in a safe place while she was in prison. (albeit in this fic, he's essentially brain-dead and can't be resusciated)

abyss= a motif throughout the fic, finally paying off. abysses are moral low points, and they're also deep underwater spaces full of scary shit. it made sense that gwen's would be in the hudson.

carnage is more bloodthirsty than venom, but a symbiote reflects its host more often than not. og carnage bonded to a serial killer. fic-carnage is bonding to a girl who wants to do whatever it takes to ensure her own agency and survival. it's going to be the avatar of her anger, and the voice of that gut feeling she's been wrestling with.

technically gwen should've been killed by that fall. but she's super-strong and has a symbiote absorbing the blast so, shrug.

gwen a wasn't laughing when she joined with the symbiote because she lost her mind. it was because it felt really fucking good to finally have that power, and that partnership.

payoff for the breathing underwater motif! symbolically, and literally!

end quote

from seanan mcguire's ghost-spider run. yet another issue 4 quote. issue 4 is bomb, check it out.

[butchpeabody]

ok i finally feel coherent enough to post my spiderverse thoughts. theyll be under the cut and ill tag this post "atsv spoilers!" (as well as anything else i rb.) if you havent seen the movie id advise against checking the notes as well jic someone replies

so like. first of all what the fuck. i was fucking slackjawed from the last 30 minutes of the movie starting to getting home and sitting down. absolutely MASTERFUL movie in every way imaginable. i dont have the words in my head rn but its just. GOD. fuck. i will be buying the artbook when it comes out

individual points:

-i really really do love the curtains are blue style gwen trans allegory good fucking god. WHAT THE FUCK shes so good. by no means the main character (i was actually kind of worried when thebmovie started like i do love her im glad she got some shit but ibwas like...is this gonna be from her pov the whole time when miles is here...it wasnt!) but i adored her in this shes so ficking full of issues

-HOBIE. HOBIE MY FRIEND HOBIE. i really enjoy his presence in the movie- when hes mentioned once or twice before appearing i thought hed have a rivalry with miles but that was absolutely not the case. in retrospect its really funny that miguel grabbed him for his fucked up spiderverse shit giving that his entire MO is anarchism but if he were not there miles would absolutely be hurt or worse. im INCREDIBLY excited to see what they do with him in the next movie- especially because i can kind of see him as a parallel to aaron in a way? such free spirits ...artistic .... also i dont have as much to say about him but god pativr is so good i love him. i LOVE HIM

-peni was my favorite character in the first movie when i was younger but i had since grown like...worried about her showing up in future movies because of her stereotypical portrayal. its probably too early to give a clear for now nor is it my place to comment on the actual content of that BUT for what its worth she seemed much more faithful to the comics' tone in this movie- it seems that the implication was that peni experienced her comic run in between movies? her mech and outfit are far different. she was fucking HAGGARD when she first showed up. ham and noir coming back in the next movie will be nice but i do hope that they replace hams voice actor.

-miguel is so fucjing fascinating. people either seem to desire him carnally or hope he dies and im definitrly not in the former and im like.....nnnot entirely in the latter. intetesting character excited to see where he goes! what the FUCK was his problem though. you are a GROWN MAN trying to tear a 15 year old asunder because hes like hey i dojt want to stand idly by and watch my dad perish dude. he sucks and is horrible and i want to study him. jessica also really but she seems less fucked up and more like...willing ti take care of her responsibilites despite the emotional toll. excited to see if they clash more in part 2

-i dont even have the words to describe the animation but everyrhing is so beautiful. a few characters have sketch guidelines on them despite being 3d! the first fight scene of the movie contains a chararacter from a fucking da vinky world and hes in sepiatone and its fucking GORGOEUS.

-miles. ohhhhhh milesmilesmilesmiles saving the best for last. what do i even say man the progression of his arc, the way the smallest action of his from the first movie set off a massive chain of events, the turmoil he goes through and comes out stronger. his PARENTS. HIS RELATIONSHIP TO THEM HIS WORRY FOR THEM. i nearly screamed when he went in the wrong universe and aaron was there, AND HIS DAD WAS DEAD, THE THING HE WAS TRYING TO PREVENT. AND THEN ALTERNATE MILES BEING THE PROWLER. IS THE IMPLCIATION THAT EARTH 42 MILES WOULDVE BEEN THAT UNIVERSES SPIDERMAN BUT BECAISE THE SPIDER LEFT HE BECAME THE FUCKING PROWLER???? FUCK MAN!!!!! i need to see him thriving i hope he gets home okay. amazing movie amaaasizinngngnnn