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#Spider-Man reader
tonyspank · 10 months
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TRUTH HURTS 2
Summary: Kingpin has escaped The Raft and it’s up to you to bring him back.
A/N: AHHH.. i don’t like this part 2. and everyone that sent requests i will be working on them today! Warnings: Idek, fighting i guess
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"Oh! What a time to be alive," You sing in the middle of your kitchen, dancing around as you prepare breakfast. "Living in the future blinging on my hotline!" Dancing while food being present has become a routine. You look out the window and see your neighbor Ms. Brown, who you know is an early riser, peeking through her curtains, shaking her head in disapproval. You give her a cheeky wave and smile as you continue to dance.
Once she walks away you shoot a web at your curtain, shutting it. You turn the music down and stop dancing. You let out a laugh, "That could've went worse." You pull out your phone, dial Jenna, and FaceTime her. It rings a few times before showing unavailable on your screen.
That's weird. Jenna normally answers your calls in the morning. Since you're always busy doing Spidey patrol in the morning, it's normally her who calls and you don't answer.
You shrug and decide to call her later. You turn the music completely off, no longer in a dancing mood. You start to worry, hoping she is okay. You grab your phone and dial Jenna's number, but she still doesn't answer. You start to worry even more, imagining the worst. You decide to call her one more time, this time leaving a message.
Your anxiety eases once she replies seconds later, "Busy." You shrug it off continuing to cook your eggs and bacon, the smell filling your entire apartment. Once it's cooked you plate your food, brining it to your kitchen table. Having just picked up a piece of bacon, your phone begins ringing seconds after you start eating it.
"You've gotta be kidding me," You mutter, your mouth full of food. You reach out for your phone, still chewing, and answer the call. "Hey, kid!" You shut your eyes at the voice. The voice on the other end of the line continued, oblivious to your annoyance.
You sighed and shoved more food into your mouth. "What do you want?" you ask, but your words are muffled by the large amount of eggs in your mouth.
"What? Speak up!" the voice demanded. You took a deep breath, swallowing the food, and replying in a clearer voice. "What do you want?!" Tony chuckles, finding the situation hilarious. "I need your help." He says, still laughing and out of breath? You grumble in response, but you know you can't deny him. "With what--" You cut yourself off, "Why do you keep grunting in my ear!" "Sorry, sorry," Tony replied. "I'm kind of grunt in the middle of something."
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Immediately your mind thinks the worse, Tony grunts again. "Ew, kid. Don't think like that." He laughs again, and you can't help but smile. Before he could speak again you ask him, "Are you in the middle of a battle?"
Tony chuckles. "No, well-- Yes? Kind of, me and the team are in Hawaii! We're playing volleyball - Cap! That's cheating!" Tony grins, and you laugh as you hear Steve say something in the background.
"Sounds like fun. Who's winning?" You ask. "Well, me of course." Tony's laughter infects you and you can't help but smile. Steve says something else in the background and you can't help, but ask "What did he say?" Tony laughs and replies "Oh, nothing. He's just trying to one up me."
"Anyways! I was calling because since we're kind of busy, I need you to do something very important for me." His laughter is gone, he's serious now and his voice is stern. "Kingpin escaped The Raft."
Your heart sinks at his words, you take a deep breath. You know what this means. You have to take him down. Kingpin was dangerous and unpredictable. And he also wasn't your biggest fan due to the fact you were the one who got him sent to The Raft in the first place.
Now that he's out you know he'll do whatever it takes to get his revenge. You don't know what it will take, but you know you will do whatever it takes. You'll find Kingpin and bring him to justice.
"I need you to find him and bring him back. It's a matter of urgency. I won't be able to do it myself, so I'm counting on you." As you grip your phone harder, you feel a sense of dread rise within you.
You know this is a crucial task, and you don't want to let him or your city down. Calming your nerves, you reply with a determined confidence, "You can count on me. I won't let you down." Tony says his goodbyes, wishing you luck. Your breakfast is soon forgotten as you rush to your bedroom, putting on your Spidey-Suit.
You take off, swinging through the city, eager to put an end to Kingpin once and for all. You know it won't be easy, but you are confident in your abilities, ready to take on any challenge that comes your way.
"Karen call Yuri." Yuri answered, speaking in her usual professional tone. "You're late." Rolling your eyes, you sigh. "I know. I've just been told. You could've at least called me." Yuri didn't reply, but her silence spoke volumes. You knew she was disappointed in you, but you also knew she understood.
"Do you know where he's at?" You ask, hopeful. Yuri sighed. "Unfortunately, no. But, I have some addresses to his hideouts." You're taken aback. "Multiple? As in more than one?!" Yuri confirms. "It's been a week, he's been quite the busy guy. I'll text you the locations." With that, the call ended.
You hang up with a heavy heart. You know you should be grateful for Yuri's help, but you can't help but feel guilty that you hadn't been able any information yourself. After you told Jenna that you were Spider-Man/Woman, she's been worried sick. She'd been demanding you to rest, but now you knew that you wouldn't be able to until you'd defeated Kingpin.
You mentally prepare yourself for the fight ahead. It was going to be a difficult one, especially with no leads. It was like going into a dark room with no source of light. You had no idea what could be lurking around each corner, so you had to be careful. You had to take things one step at a time and hope for the best.
You continue swinging through the large city of New York, almost arriving at one of Yuri's locations. Right before you shoot out another web you feel volts of electricity course through your body.
You realize it's an EMP and it shuts down your suit. You crash to the ground, powerless. You try to power it back on, but nothing happens. Looking around you try and find the source of the EMP.
You spot a figure on the roof of the building, a dark figure with a small device in their hands. hey jump off the building easily, heading towards you as you get back on your feet, holding up your fists.
The figure steps closer to you, and you brace yourself for a fight. Suddenly, the figure appears in sight as the sun shines behind them. You recognize her immediately, "Felicia?" She smirks, "It's been a long time, hasn't it...Spider?" She steps closer and you drop your fists.
The Black Cat was back as well. Whenever she was back, it was for trouble. You take a deep breath and try to figure out why she's here. "Who are you robbing now, Felicia?" She grinned, showing her sharp teeth.
"I'm not here to rob anyone. I'm here for you, my old friend." She stepped closer and you could feel the tension in the air. "I need your help." You hesitated, considering the risks involved with helping her. Finally, you nodded and said, "What do you need me to do?"
She steps closer, running a sharp nail down your mask. She smiles and says, "Look at you. So ready to help me." Your eyes roll under your mask. The tension between you two was palpable, like a wire stretched tight between two posts, ready to snap at any moment.
You take a deep breath and exhale slowly. You can feel her eyes on you, waiting for your response. "What do you need?" Her hand moves to your bicep, squeezing gently. Her face is close to yours as she says, "I need you to help me take down Kingpin."
You're confused. It is extremely unlikely that she would request such a thing, or even give up the opportunity of having no attention paid to her at all by you or the police. With Kingpin on loose, she could commit the biggest robbery ever and get away with it. You look into her eyes and see the determination and desperation. "Why? What's in it for you?"
She lets go of you, backing up completely. "If I don't take him down, he'll kill someone very important to me." She lifts her chin, a steely glint in her eyes. "I have to do this. I'm going to take him down - by any means necessary." She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. She nods at you, silently conveying her dedication. "Who?"
Her serious face is gone, and she walks back up to you, bringing a finger to your lips. "Shh," she says. "Don't worry. You don't have to get jealous. You'll always have a special place in my heart, Spider."
She winks, and gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder before turning and walking away. You stand still, watching her go, your thoughts a swirl of confusion and surprise.
But now was not the time to get distracted by her childish antics. Unless she was serious about having someone to protect from Kingpin. Who could it be? The cat didn't have any family, so who could be so important to make her come out of hiding? You shake the thoughts from your head, heading toward the nearest hideout Yuri sent you.
You had to focus on the task at hand, the rest could wait. You had to find Kingpin and take him out before he could cause any trouble. "Yuri, I'm here." You say, sitting on top of a light post near the hideout. Scanning the horizon, you look for any sign of movement. "Good, update me once you're inside." She says on the line. You nod, "Got it," hanging up the phone, and jumping down from the light post, stealthy making your way inside the hideout.
Webbing yourself to the ceiling of the building, you crawl around scoping the entire place out. There were no signs of Kingpin, only his goons. You call Yuri back informing her of the situation. Even though Kingpin wasn't here, this hideout was great evidence and a nice place to start to look for him.
Yuri thanked you for the update and told you to keep looking around for any clues that could lead to Kingpin's whereabouts. You continued to search the hideout, hoping to find something that could help the search.
At the back of the hideout you find documents and a yellow envelope. You opened the envelope and inside you found a bunch of photos... of you and Jenna. You were confused and shocked. You quickly put the photos back in the envelope and tucked it away in your pocket. You had to find out what was going on.
How did Kingpin get ahold of these photos? It looked like they were taken from blocks away, the view coming from your living room window. You left the hideout in a hurry, and a million of questions rushed throughout your head.
Did he know your identity? Was Jenna in danger? You had to find the answers. You had to find Kingpin. But first you needed to know if Jenna was safe, "Karen call Jenna!"
You held your breath as the phone rang. Finally, Jenna answered. "Jenna, it's me, are you okay?" You asked. She hesitated for a moment, then finally answered, "Yeah, I'm good. What's wrong?" You exhaled, relieved. You couldn't tell her about the photos you found. It'll worry her and make her paranoid.
You decided to keep the photos a secret for now. You told Jenna you'll come and visit her soon and hung up. You knew you had to find Kingpin ASAP, but at least Jenna was safe for now. Fuck. You need to call Felicia for this.
You dialed Felicia's number and she answered on the fourth ring. "Felicia! I need your help." Felicia paused for a moment before responding. "Now who's begging? You sound so good when you beg." She teases and you feel yourself getting more frustrated by the second. "Now is not the time for games!" Felicia's laughter filled the line. "But I love to play!"
Ignoring her you continue, "I need you to help me find Kingpin. I promise I'll make it worth your while," you added. "Okay," Felicia said. "I like the sound of that."
You heard a shift in Felicia's voice, and you knew you had her attention. "What do you need me to do?" she asked. You quickly filled her in on the details of your plan, and Felicia agreed to help.
You felt a sense of relief, knowing that with Felicia on your side, you had a better chance of finding Kingpin. You thanked her and agreed to meet soon. She hung up the phone and you took a deep breath. With Felicia's help, you were one step closer to achieving your goal. Now all you had to do was execute the plan.
You shot a web and made your way to the meeting spot, feeling determined and excited. When you arrived, Felicia was already there, ready to help. You relaxed, knowing that together you would have a fighting chance to find Kingpin and bring him to justice.
Felicia turns around as you drop onto the roof, the sky now darker than it was earlier. "What do you have on Kingpin?" You ask, not wasting anytime. Jenna's safety along with New York's was sitting on your shoulders. Felicia is silent for a moment before she replies. "I have some intel, but it's not much." She says. "We'll have to move quickly if we're going to take him down."
"He called me not too long ago, demanding that I help him take you down." You take a second to take this in before replying. "What was the plan?" you ask. "You would go search all his hideouts. It would all give you clues. Then it would finally lead you back to his old Fisk building. Once you found him, you'd have to face him in a fight."
"I don't exactly know how he's planning on defeating you, my task was just to give him a heads up." She finishes, eyeing you.
You nod, understanding the plan. You take a deep breath and steel yourself for what's to come. You know there's no other way - it's time to face him. "We have to be one step ahead of him if we're meant to take him out." You say, determined. You both move to the edge of the roof, "We're already one step ahead. He's not expecting you to know that you're expecting him."
You turn to her. Seeing her differently now, she truly changed. She's no longer the selfish person she once was. She's ready to take him down and protect those she cares about. "Whoever you're protecting has really softened you, Felicia." She replied, "You have no idea." Her eyes sparkled with determination, and her voice was strong and confident. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt what's mine."
"Wait," You said as Felicia was getting ready to depart. You press the Spider logo in the middle of your suit. It flies out hovering in front of you before landing in your palm. Clicking a button you pull out a tiny earpiece. You quickly place the earpiece in Felicia's ear. "You'll be able to hear me now, no matter how far you go," you explain. "We'll stay in touch."
"Remember... quiet as a cat - ," she smiles, "- sneaky as a spider."
Taking a deep breath, you both jump off the roof towards your destiny. Felicia was going to enter the building first, telling Fisk about how she saw Spider-Man/Woman in the last hideout. Fisk would then prepare for battle, and prepare to kill you. You watch from another building as Felicia enters the building. Felicia then disappears into the building and you wait,  watching with bated breath as the fate of this mission hangs in the balance.
"How's it looking Felicia?" You ask, your voice coming through in her earpiece. She responds, "I'm in. I'll be there in a few minutes." You relax a bit, knowing you've done all you can. You wait and hope for the best.
After what seems like an eternity, Felicia finally speaks again. "Come to the back, there's a vent in a supply closet for you to enter from. Watch out for the guards." Quickly, you zip off of the building, making your way towards the back. You notice a guard near you.
Being quiet as a cat you manage to sneak behind him undetected. Playfully you tap his shoulder on the opposite side you're standing. Startled, the guard turns, but doesn't see anyone. He then turns the other way and you bring a finger to your lips. He looks around, confused, and obviously scared, but he makes the rash decision of raising his gun.
You web his mouth shut and web the gun to his body. "I said shh!" You whisper yell as you wrap a web around his body and he drops to the ground. You take the gun and start running, his screams muffled in the night air. You disappear into the shadows, leaving the guard behind. Once you locate the vent and carefully maneuver yourself inside.
You crawl through the ventilation system until you reach the supply closet. You drop down from the vent, a certain cat waiting patiently for you."Took you long enough," Felicia says, rising from the wall. "Well, I'm here now," you reply. "Where's Kingpin's office?" Felicia points to the door. You nod and take a deep breath.
You open the door and step into the hallway. The hallway is surprisingly empty, too empty. And it's too quiet. You start to feel a chill down your spine as you sense something is not right.
Turning around to face Felicia, but she's not there. Your Spidey sense goes off, but it's too late and you feel volts going through your body for a second time today. You collapse to the ground, feeling a sense of disorientation and confusion. It was another EMP.
You turn your head and see Felicia. Her face pale and a slight smirk on her lips. She had set off the EMP. She then began tying you up, making sure you couldn't move. Felicia had outsmarted you and was now in control of the situation.
"What are you doing Felicia?" You grunt out. Felicia steps closer and kneels down to meet your gaze. Her voice is calm and cold as she speaks, "I'm doing what I have to do. You don't understand, but soon you will." She stands up ripping the earpiece from her ear as she walks away, leaving you alone and confused.
You watch as she disappears into the shadows and your confusion turns to anger. You want to follow her and demand an explanation, you know that something's not right, and you can't help but feel like you're in the middle of something much bigger than yourself.
You sit there for a few moments, pondering what Felicia meant and what she's doing. After a few moments your suit is back on, and you rip yourself through the wires. With a heavy sigh, you stand up and follow Felicia's direction, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. You know she's hiding something and you're determined to find out what it is.
You can tell that Felicia is holding something back, but she's not saying anything. You follow her through the winding hallways of the building, your heart pounding as you keep an eye out for any sign of danger. As you reach the end of the corridor, you know that the truth is just around the corner.
There he is - Wilson Fisk. The Kingpin, the man who had caused so much misery and destruction. He stood there, silent and imposing, his face a mask of indifference. Your mind raced with questions and fears, but you knew that the answers would soon be revealed.
You web yourself to the corner of the room, watching Felicia, Fisk, and a few of his guards present as they interact. "I have the Spider," Felicia says.
"Where are they?" Fisk stares at her, his eyes full of rage. He takes a step towards her as she speaks, "I just want to experiment on your little Spider, Jenna. Is that too much to ask for?" Felicia stares back, her face emotionless. Your heart drops at the mention of your girlfriend's name.
She steps back, not wanting to risk Fisk getting too close. "The deal was you get to run your tests, and right after that Y/N and I walk free." Fisk scoffs. "You think you can just walk away? I think you forgot who I am." He takes another step forward, now looming over her.
You couldn't believe it. Your girlfriend was The Black Cat. This entire time, you were in the dark. You felt betrayed and angry. It was like the rug being pulled out from underneath you. One moment, you were standing on solid ground, and the next you were left feeling blindsided and confused. You weren't sure how to process it all. You started to wonder if you really knew her at all.
She was the same person who spent countless nights robbing anyone she could get her hands out, the same person that was ready to turn you into Kingpin so he could run tests on you. She was the same person who had no remorse for her actions, the same person who thought she was above the law. She was a menace to society and had to be stopped.
"And I think you forgot who I am." She said these words with a smirk on her face. She scratches Fisk's face quickly dropping a smoke bomb, Fisk's men are too late raising their weapons. She had already disappeared. Fisk's face was red with anger, his men still standing in shock. He had been humiliated in front of them and he knew it.
"Go find her and that Spider! NOW!" His men scattered and he was left alone to ponder his next move. He was determined to find her and make her pay for what she had done. He vowed to get his revenge no matter the cost.
"I seen you watching me." You recognize the voice on your left, Jenna— Felicia. You didn't know what to call her anymore, was now in the same corner as you, standing on a beam. She had an expression of amusement and a glint in her eye. Everything was different now. You had been lying to each other for months. "You lied to me."
Her smirk disappeared. "You lied to me too," she said. "For a good reason!" You defend yourself, trying your best to stay quiet and not alert Fisk or his men as they search for the two of you. She shook her head. "I've changed, Y/N. Why do you think you haven't seen The Black Cat in a while? I went clean for you!" You were speechless, but you knew she was telling the truth. You looked into her eyes and saw that she had made a real change.
She glanced around. "We need to take him down," she said, her voice low. "Lead the way," You nodded and walked ahead of her. You could feel her following close behind, a strong presence of commitment. You knew that together, you could take down Fisk.
"You deal with his goons, I got Fisk." You instruct. She nods in agreement, before you two slit in different directions she jumps on your back. "You know I love it when you're in charge," She smiles as she wraps her arms around your neck, a hand dragging her way down your suit. "Focus, Jenna." She laughs and hops off your back, and the two of you set off in different directions.
You make your way to Fisk's office, while Jenna takes care of Fisk's henchmen. She manages to overpower them with her lightning-fast combat skills. You reach the office and confront Fisk, he was typing on his computer.
"Awe! Are you writing a fanfiction about us?" Fisk stopped typing and looked at you with an emotionless expression. He presses a singular key on his keyboard, "Get the chopper ready. I won't be long."
"I waited years to fight you, Y/N." You stand up and prepare to fight. Fisk smirks as he slowly rises from his seat. You can feel the tension in the air as you both prepare for battle. "You're making it sound like I'm about to pop your fight cherry or something."
The man grunts in response, "I'm not here to play games." He takes a step forward and cracks his knuckles. "You ignorant fool." He picks up his desk, throwing it at you. You jump out of the way and the desk slams against the wall. The man looks at you with contempt and snarls, "Get out of my sight!" He lunges towards you, fists clenched.
You manage to dodge his attack and shoot mulitple webs around him, trapping him in a cocoon. You then leap foward, punching him in the face and anywhere else you can land before he rips out of your web.
The man throws an arm your way, knocking you onto your back. You quickly jump back up and launch yourself at him and spin around, kicking him in the chest and then aiming a web at his face. The web sticks to his face before he roughly rips it off, angrier than before.
"I WILL DESTORY YOU!" He charges at you, but you dodge him and spin around and launch another web at him, this time wrapping him up in the web completely. You walk closer to him, a smile under your mask. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
He glares at you, his eyes filled with hatred. You turn around and begin dancing, "Uh huh! Uh huh! UH-"Suddenly you're being tackled, you fall to the ground. You look up to see him, eyes still full of rage, but he's free from the web. He grins, "I said I'll destroy you!" He wraps his hands around your neck, picking you up with ease.
"Maybe I got a little cocky," You rasp out. He throws you into a wall and you break throw it completely.
Tumbling onto the ground, you scramble to your feet and ready yourself for a fight. He charges at you and you dodge, kicking his back. He stumbles and turns around, ready to retaliate. But he doesn't get the chance – an series of volts shoot through his body.
He collapses to the ground, twitching and convulsing. You turn around seeing Jenna make her way towards you, the same device from earlier lying in her hand. She looks you in the eyes and speaks, "Web him up, Spider." She turns and walks away, leaving you alone with the incapacitated man.
You take out a roll of webbing from your pocket and begin to wrap him up, tightly binding his body. You pick him up and walk away, the man still unconscious in your arms. You dangle the man at the entrance of the building, fleeing before the cops notice you. The cops arrive and take the man away.
You disappear into the night, feeling a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. You had done the right thing.
You web yourself to a building nearby, watching Kingpin get locked up for a second time. You had done your part to keep the city safe. You were sure Kingpin wouldn't be a menace to the city for a while. You smiled to yourself and felt relieved. "Y/N," Jenna says, you turn around.
"Are we okay?" She repeats those same words you said to her the night you revealed your identity. You take a deep breath and smile at Jenna, "We're okay." You wrap your arms around her and pull her in close. You feel something shift in your arms, pulling away it was just Jenna. No longer in her uniform, "YOU CAN MORPH?!"
Jenna smiles back, her eyes twinkling with a newfound joy and freedom. She nods her head and looks up at you, "Yes, I can morph." You take off your mask and give her a gentle kiss on the forehead, "I'm sorry." She apologizes as she starts to cry. You hug her tightly, reassuring her that it's all going to be okay. You give her a warm smile and tell her that you will always be there for her.
"Jenna, it's okay. I believe that you've changed." Jenna looks up at you with a grateful expression. She smiles and leans into your embrace, taking a deep breath. You both stay there for a moment, and then Jenna pulls away, her eyes shining with hope. "I love you."
You smile and nod. "I love you too," you reply. You hold her hands in yours, and you both stand there, savoring the moment.You stare into each other's eyes, and in that moment, you both know that things will be okay. Jenna squeezes your hands, and you both turn to face the future, with hope and love in your hearts.
You put your mask back on. "So, is this going to become a regular thing? The Spider and The Cat?"
She playfully rolls her eyes, laughing. "Of course not. Kingpin just needed to understand. You mess with the cat, you get the claws." She smirks, her eyes glowing in the night. "But don't worry, I'll always have your back." She turns and starts walking away. You follow her and she morphs back into The Black Cat.
"Let's go home." Just as she's about to make the jump, you stop her. "Wait! I'm gonna send you my swinging playlist," She scoffs, laughing. "No thanks babe, I'll see you when you get home."  As she leaps across the building, she lands safely on the other side. You watch her leave, shaking your head in disbelief. She turns to wave one last time before disappearing into the night.
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dearest-painter · 1 year
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Skit with GN!Deadshot & Spider-Man!Reader
GN!Deadshot & Spider-Man!Reader:Miles? Why are you hiding behind me?
Miles:SOME PISSED OFF GROWN MAN IS TRYING TO KILL ME AND I DONT KNOW WHY! PLEASE PROTECT ME PARENTAL FIGURE!
GN!Deadshot & Spider-Man!Reader:Like how im a parental figure even if you have parents also never call me that….*Looks at miguel* The fuck did the kid do to you?
Peter B:Act the same way I taught him!
GN!Deadshot & Spider-Man!Reader:I’m not surprised…YOU GOT A BABY! GIVE ME THE DAMN BABY NOW MOTHER FUCKER!
Miguel:*flustered but confused* who the hell is that!?
Peter B:Okay here’s mayday! *looks at miguel* this is my beloved Y/N,their a parent to a daughter named Zoey. In their earth their both Deadshot and Spider-Man
GN!Deadshot & Spider-Man!Reader:*Happily playing with a giggling and squealing mayday* mhm yeah whatever. Aren’t you a cutie? Yes you are! Oh I’m so stealing you from your father!
Miguel:….
Peter B:don’t even think of it,their mine
Miguel:Try me bitch I’ll make them mine
Miles:stay the fuck away from my parental figure both of you!
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plscallmeeren · 5 months
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YOU REMEMBER
(Aged Up) Michelle 'MJ' Jones x Reader
Request: yeah
Summary: ok so (y/n) is basically Peter (Tom Holland) and Peter is just like Ned 2.0
It's after No Way Home so no one remembers him and MJ, Ned and Peter are off to college (you've also lost all your humour and happiness in case u were wondering)
Anyways things happen and memories are triggered.... Enjoy I have edited nothing as usual (it's so late I'm so tired wtf)
Warnings: Swearing; sad MJ; yelling/fighting
Word Count: 2.6K+
You watched from a rooftop as New York teemed with activity even in the dead of night - not that that was anything unusual. Crowds of party-goers cheered with joints in hand. Mini-supermarket clerks filled out expert crosswords while casual thieves slipped candy into their pockets. Burnt-out child hackers typed ferociously in the hopes of pirating a new online game.
Those were your lesser worries. Those weren't the things you dared worry about. Not that you worried much these days. None of it mattered much, anyway. No one was there to care if you failed at what you had tasked yourself with for eternity.
You brushed down your dirtied red and black skintight suit, to no avail. That didn't matter, either.
This was peace. Peace was leaning back against the cold concrete. Peace was pressing »play« on your playlist and hearing Sweet Gene Vincent ramble around the murky night air like a newer, cleaner mist with a Cockney accent and punk ideals. Peace was pulling out your phone and looking at old photos of you and your former girlfriend and friends even though you knew you couldn't afford the emotional exhaustion. Peace was finally letting all those tears slide from beneath folds of harsh ignorance. That was peace now.
It wasn't always like that. It used to be lying around the living room, spread out on couches, with Peter and Ned telling you about the new Lego Death Star with an electronic component and MJ lying across your lap with a smile that suggested they were being stupid as she stared lovingly up at you as you ran your fingers through her curled hair.
But that sort of peace wasn't possible anymore, so there was no point seeking or missing it.
A picture of Ned and Peter grinning like idiots as they stood in front of the cinema to watch a rerun of Alien slid across the screen.
It was replaced by an image of MJ smiling back at you, mockingly signing 'metal' with one hand as her foreshortened feet lay closer to you and the camera.
You turned your phone off. A police siren wailed pathetically in the distance like a droning call for help.
Peace was over.
•••
Massachusetts
The Hercules cafe bustled with customers overflowing the nine-person chair budget.
MJ, Peter and Ned were positioned fortunately in the best corner beside the window. It was about lunch time - peak hour at that particular instalment - but the three had arrived hours earlier already.
"Mrs. Zeis is killing me," Ned was complaining, only stopping to sip at his strawberry milkshake. "Two protocols, one theory essay and an experiment setup? Does she not remember we have other subjects, too?"
The snarky waitress who never wore a name tag - the counterpart to exaggeratedly sweet Mr. Lang - strode up to them, snarling. "Will you be here much longer? We have other customers, y'know."
"Yeah, we'll have another chocolate milkshake, thanks," MJ dismissed her smoothly, turning back to her friends.
"Yeah, she's pretty bad," Peter continued for Ned. "I wrote an essay once I knew was bad but I hadn't had time to do it properly and she literally just ripped it apart."
"That's cruel," MJ conceded, smiling as Mr. Lang brought her her order. "Any chance you'll be rid of her for the last semester?"
"Not really," Ned sighed in exasperation.
"I will," Peter added cheerily, stealing Ned's straw and slurping a great deal of milkshake away from him. Ned stared on in horror.
The waitress came up to them again, but before she could dart out that poised tongue Ned was reminding her they weren't finished. She walked away with such impotence as if they had greatly insulted her.
"I can't believe we're graduating so soon... I'm looking forward to Manhattan. It's not really a great place looking back but it'll always be home," MJ said thoughtfully, chewing on her straw.
"Yeah. We had some great times," Peter smiled, handing Ned his latte in attempted reconciliation.
"Yeah," Ned added dreamily.
MJ nodded. Then: "Hey, I'm getting major Deja vu right now. Either of you?"
"Nah, not really," Ned admitted sheepishly as Peter simply shook his head.
"Huh."
They were all silent for a moment, all in their own worlds, when Peter spoke up again: "I know this sounds totally out there and weird, but do you sometimes feel like someone's missing? I mean, like there should be a fourth of us? I don't know, maybe I'm just-"
"No, you're not wrong," MJ interrupted, peering around the cafe as if something might be written on the walls in reply.
"Hey, MJ," Ned said slowly, some eerie disturbance creeping up on his usual voice. "Where did you actually get your necklace? I mean, you wear it every day, so I just... I don't know why I thought of it..."
She looked down at where her black dahlia necklace rested on her collarbone.
She stared. There was something familiar about it, and yet it was like she no longer knew it or why it was there. But she did, didn't she? She had been wearing it every day for years since...
(Y/n).
"Are you okay? You look a bit pale," Peter commented, casting a sidelong glance at Ned, who looked similarly anxious about the look on their friend's face.
It was all coming back to her. Rushing, roaring memories like tidal waves washing up to a shore that had been awaiting them for a decade too long.
"It's (y/n). He's missing," she murmured, standing up straight in seconds and rushing right past the returning waitress, almost making her fall over.
"Children! That's what you are!" she yelled after her, but MJ could hardly hear anything beyond her beating heart and gaping lungs.
•••
You lazily pressed the »play« buttons on the remote, refocusing your attention on your Chinese takeaway as He's Just Not That Into You started. It was going to be stupid. You knew that. Scarlet Johansson was in it, though, so you didn't particularly care. Stupid was good once in a while, anyway.
Your mobile buzzed, making you groan as you set your food back down to get it from the faraway table.
+339 873 5386
Probably another scam, you thought in slight disappointment, but not much surprise. You hung up. There was no one to call you, anyway.
You sat back down on your bed which acted as a couch at times like these and pulled the Chinese food back into your lap. The credits rolled.
Your phone buzzed again. Unfortunately for your innocent food, you almost completely spilled it slamming it back down on the table to reach your phone again.
+339 873 5386
You hung up again, muttering to yourself about stupid people and their stupid money scams. You wondered if you could pay not to get scammed and then realised you were in the same issue all over again. Except maybe they wouldn't interrupt takeaway night as much.
Far away one truly stubborn woman decided she was not having your bullshit and booked the next flight to New York she could find.
•••
MJ had travelled once across Manhattan and still she hadn't found even half a lead on your whereabouts.
She was close to despairing after finding your old apartment empty, countless people who should have known you to render your name foreign and only Delmar who knew of an old boyfriend of hers at all - though even he thought he hadn't seen you in more than a couple of years.
Until she saw you.
You were walking harmlessly along in your favourite black hoodie - one thing that you wouldn't let change - when you saw her, too. Or, someone who looked like her. It couldn't be. What was she doing here? She was supposed to be in Massachusetts. Far away from all of this.
You quickly turned a corner, hoping whatever psychotic trauma you were reliving at that moment would quickly pass.
She couldn't be there. You had made sure of that. Dr. Strange had made sure of that. She was safe. Ned was safe. So was Peter. She's safe.
Your inner voice repeated it like a mantra, following you the entire rushed way to your apartment building and up its concrete wasteland stairs. You stood before your door, shaking, trembling, scrunching your eyes closed to reassure yourself her familiar gaze wasn't on your back.
You were right. You had lost her. Both now and then.
You fought a losing battle with the rusty lock on your door until it finally gave in out of pity, its swinging whine stolen and replaced by your own breathless sigh.
You kicked it shut, not bothering to lock it, considering there was hardly anyone who'd be much trouble to you in Manhattan - and if they were, no lock would stop them, most likely.
Collapsing on the mattress, the bare room's singular comforting component, your head landed in your hands as heavily as lead weight. It hurt so much. It didn't matter if it had been her or not. She would never be yours again.
You looked around your place. Nothing felt like yours anymore. This fridge with a spoon, fork and plate next to it, this iPhone charger and mattress, microwave and a closet with so few clothes the spider suit almost stood out - none of it held any identity you could associate with yourself. None.
The door creaked again, and this time there was no heaving breath to hide it.
"(Y/n)?"
Please no. Please not now, not here, not unprepared... She can't be here. She was safe. I kept it that way.
She repeated your name, but your fingers only tightened their deadly grip around the sheet. Silence. Finally, you looked up, because you were almost convinced, almost hopeful that familiar voice had been a fragment of your imagination or she had decided you a lost cause and left after all.
She was still there. Your body sagged in upset.
"Do you even eat?" she snapped, and you wondered whether she had meant it to be so harsh. More words followed, each cracking like a whip also. You plead mercy with your emotional masochism. "You haven't brushed your hair in days - don't deny it, I know how it looks. You practically have bruises under your eyes. You're like a bag of bones; no exercise, no good food, right?"
You didn't answer, simply staring at her. She was so beautiful.
"God, (y/n)," she whispered, voice so soft it hurt more; the way it cradled you while it lasted and dropped you from its billowing clouds far higher up than anything else. Her pain crawled as ugly tendrils across the floor and through the very soles of your feet to the weight in your lungs.
Silence, again.
"You remember," you stated deftly, but nothing in you wanted to accept it. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.
And yet... she had remembered. Your relationship had been so strong, she had remembered. How? Curiosity danced groggily on the sidelines of your train of thought.
"Yeah. Remember this?" MJ lifted the dahlia necklace from her chest, holding it up for you to see. You did. An array of yellowing memories about your trip to France all those years ago flashed before your eyes, reminding you of every reason you had to buy it for her and every reason you should have been bursting with happiness at the fact she was standing before you.
"How did you find me?" you asked instead, earning a deserved scoff.
"I told you I'd track you down." She clenched her jaw, as if remembering how angry she was. "You promised." It was a quiet reminder, but stone in its sureness.
Your muscles tightened as you looked away. You couldn't bare it. You were certain you had done the right thing, and yet...
"You promised you would find us," she repeated, a little louder.
Still, you didn't answer.
"Look at me!" she finally yelled, making you jump, staring at her with wide eyes. She never used to be so loud. She never shouted, even when you fought. She had changed... or maybe you had given her reason to.
Tears threatened to escape her, but her expression remained firm, impossible.
"I did. I was there, just like I promised," you admitted slowly, enunciating every word so that you may never have to say any again. "I saw you, MJ. With Peter and Ned. And it was just... it was so clear you were better off without me. Without this huge Spider-Man burden on your back. You were safe not knowing me."
"So, let me get this straight," she started, in a way that unlike before was similar to the way she usually talked. Casual-sounding, light. "Not only did you assume what was best for us and ignored what we wanted, but you also - for even a second - thought I could survive seeing you like this? You really weren't planning on finding us? Ever?"
Your stood, leaning clumsily against the mattress as you watched her. You didn't need to reply.
"No. No. I won't have this. You need to apologise. You need to- to- I don't know. Make it up to us. You think this is okay? You think this way of living works? Well, it doesn't. The Bell Jar isn't this fucking depressing."
You winced. She always referenced that book when she was calling something fucked up. She began crying properly now.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'll do anything. There's nothing like this feeling that you could be responsible for the death of someone you love, MJ. That's not an excuse, but it's a pretty damn good reason. I understand you're angry, but you've gotta understand, too. You were everything. You are. I can watch from afar, but I can't watch everything end. If you're worried about me, worry about that. Your end would be my end. My fucking end, okay?"
Her chest heaved in wet sobs. You had only seen her cry three times before in all this time. You hated it. You pressed a finger to your cheek and realised you were crying, too.
"It's not fair. It's not fair," she sobbed, gesturing wildly in the air, her curls pushed to one side.
"I know. I know. Nothing's bloody fair," you sniffed, approaching her slowly, as if she were a shy animal, a stranger, perhaps.
It didn't take much. She slumped into your opening arms with all of her force behind her. Tears of yours mingled with hers on your shoulders and in each other's hair. Everything seemed tinged with the distant taste of salt.
She looked up at you, and suddenly your lips were connected once more, though it was sloppy and damp and certainly not your best kiss. But it was something. It gave your dingy kitchenette character and your mattress the air of a childhood sleepover in the living room.
"I won't leave you alone. Ever. You need to understand that. Whether you like it or not. You get it?" she murmured beside your ear.
You wanted to answer something romantic, something impressive, something to look back on - but all you could manage was a string of shaky "you remember"s.
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kirbyskisses · 10 months
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dear non-spanish speakers writing spiderverse fanfiction (or anything with spanglish),
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in spanglish you don’t switch by word, you switch by phrase.
it’s not:
“[first part of the sentence in english], [second part of the sentence in english], mi amor.”
“[full english sentence], querida.”
it’s:
“[first part of the sentence in english], [segunda parte de la frase en español], mi amor.”
-
also miles is boricua, miguel is mexican. they have two different accents and use different vocabulary for certain words.
also miles is “nyourican” - a puerto rican native to new york - while his mom is directly from the island, so there are differences there, too, because his spanish is more influence by new york english. 
here’s some good references that aren’t google translate (which usually pulls from spain, a country that speaks vastly differently from latin america)
SpanishDict
WordReference
here have some random videos on different slang/spanish accents:
Puerto Rico
Mexico (1) (2)
-
in spanish most words are gendered, so most feminine words end in a and masculine/gender neutral words end in o. adding ito/ita makes something cuter, smaller and more affectionate.
spanish nicknames that aren’t “mi amor”
“querido/a” - darling
“cariño” - dear (always masculine regardless, of who its being said to)
“mi princesa/príncipe” - my prince/princess
“mi rey/reina” - my king/queen
“papí/mamí” - can be used in any way; romantic, sexual, familial for one’s parent or child, or just platonically
“tesoro” - treasure
also spanish is a language that uses adjectives as terms of affection both cute ones and ones that might sound insensitive in english
gordo (fat), flaco (skinny), negro (black), blanco (white), linda (pretty), bella (beautiful), morena (brown skin), etc.
and like most languages that are not english, spanish has multiple ways of saying i love you.
“te amo” - romantic
“te quiero” - familial, platonic (although there’s nothing wrong with using it romantically)
see also:
te adoro - i adore you
te deseo - i want you
te necesito - i need you
 and, of course, they can vary regionally too.
please use this because i have read a lot of really well written things that take me out of it because the use of spanglish is terrible. don’t just go on your presumptions that spanish/spanglish works in the same way that english does.
buena suerte, gringos.
- signed your friendly neighborhood afro-latina
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wyvernest · 8 months
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mating szn
part 1 (part2)
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pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating
summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy
You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.
Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning. 
"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.
You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.
"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased. 
He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck. 
He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.
You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.
He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.
"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.
He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.
The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.
Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.
When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.
He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.
Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.
And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress. 
He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.
His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.
"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions. 
He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him. 
All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear. 
With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.
"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go. 
And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.
His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips. 
He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.
Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.
"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)
You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.
Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.
"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.
He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.
He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.
He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.
"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it. 
And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts. 
You're ovulating.
Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.
He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.
"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."
Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.
His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.
But you want to see more of how needy he is.
You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.
Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.
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divider by @cafekitsune
HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️
a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.
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aisaisaiss · 10 months
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MIGUEL whos wrapped around your pretty little finger.
he adores you, he would do anything for you. he loves you. and you knew it, he was smitten with you. no matter how sarcastic or how hard he was on the outside he would always break down those walls for you. his princesa, even if he thought he wasn’t obvious with it he was. the spider society could tell, everyone could tell.
“you’d better hope his wife comes and saves your asses” jessica said, sighing deeply. miles and gwen had fucked up big time, and there was practically no hope other than you coming to their rescue. “mhm you’d better start praying cus’ if she doesn't well uh, just hope you see tomorrow” peter whispered. “do you know what the hell you did?! do you know how much you jeopardized our mission?!” miguel seethed, irritably. "you." he turned and pointed his finger in miles's face. " i may have let you in our mission but that doesn't mean you can disobey orders." he seethed, his eyebrows furrowed. miles's could only hope and pray that she would show up.
"miguel? amor, i brought you lunch!" a bubbly voice snapped the group out of their train of thought. a sweet looking woman stood at the door, dressed in casual clothes. "what's going on?" she sighed looking at the group and miguel. "oh nothing don't worry" miguel said, awkwardly. "come here, i want to see you. i know that you just went on a mission lemme check you out" she said motioning him to come over to him. as he walked towards her, she mouthed to the group "go". and with that they scrambled off.
@AISAISAIS 2023, DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST.
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loveforeren · 9 months
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Miguel and different sex positions pt.1 eheheh cowgirl.
Miguel absolutely love when you ride him. The feeling you moving on top on him makes him lean his head back, mouth open, and his hands on your hips.
You were on top of him as you hover yourself over his erect cock. No matter how many times you took him it always had the same feeling. That almost overbearing feeling of him stretching you out, and molding you around his cock. You slowly started to push down letting him slide inside you. You let out a gasp as his tip pushed its way into your needy cunt. You hear Miguel hiss as he grips your waist tightly.
"Shit. Just like that, Mami." Miguel said.
You continue to push down as you feel Miguel fill you up. The feeling of him stretching you out to die for. You put your hand on his chest to help you. Finally sitting all the way down on his cock you let out a moan.
"..You okay, Cariño?" He asked in a airy breath.
You nod and look up at him with teary eyes. He was so fucking big. You start to move slowly bringing yourself up and down on his dick slowly. His nails penetrate your skin and you let out a moan from the pain.
"Faster. Go faster." He said throwing his head back.
His wish was your command. You bring yourself down on his cock faster. The feeling of his shaft sliding inside of you was euphoric.
"Miguel-" You hissed out his name.
He came forward latching onto one of your sensitive buds. The other hand massaged your other breast. You clench around him tight and he lets out a groan causing a shiver to go down your back. His mouth detaches from your breast and he lets out an almost pornographic moan.
"Wanna get your pregnant.." he babbled mindlessly.
Miguel absolutely loved the feeling of your body squeezing him. He let out a grin as you throw your head back. The sight of you on top of him was almost enough to make him cum. He was ready to fill you up with every drop of his seed.
"Mami, want me to get you pregnant? Get you all nice and swollen with my kid?" He asked
"Yes! Yes, Miguel please." You moaned
You feel that knot in your stomach. That one telling you that you were about to cum. Miguel was now in control of your movements helping you move up and down on his cock.
"Miggy, I'm about to come" You choke out.
"Come f'me, Amor" He purred.
That was all it took as you came undone on Miguel's dick. The feeling of you clenching around his cock sent Miguel over the edge. He threw his head back as you milk him of every drop of sperm he had. His nails digged farther into your waist as you keep your hand on his chest. He swears you're going to be the death of him.
Moni notes ➳❥ yall I'm tryna write but I'm deadass a little sick. I've been sick for the past couple days..I have like 13 unfinished drafts. I think imma write another eren or Connie fic idk..
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cyberjam · 11 months
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ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆
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warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!
word count - 2.1k
main masterlist <3
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☆ . . . miles morales
I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.
If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.
Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.
He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)
Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.
He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3
"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."
☆ . . . gwen stacy
She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.
Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.
She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.
You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.
She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.
You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.
"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."
☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar
It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).
You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.
He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.
There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.
A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)
He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.
He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...
"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."
☆ . . . hobie brown
What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.
I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.
Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.
He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.
When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)
Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."
Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.
"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."
☆ . . . miguel o' hara
You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.
Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.
He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.
He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.
He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.
If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.
"Can I kiss you?"
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omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33
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intoxicated-chan · 11 months
Note
angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader
and then they make up yayayayay
Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…
Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!
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You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.
“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”
He nods.
“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
He nods again.
“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”
“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”
“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.
“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”
He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…
“But Mig-”
“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”
He didn’t mean it like that.
“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.
“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.
You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.
You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.
The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.
How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?
This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.
And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.
You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.
You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.
“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.
“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.
“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.
“Yeah.” You huff.
“And… how are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.
You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”
“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”
Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?
“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”
“Talk about romantic.”
“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”
“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”
“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.
“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”
“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.
“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”
“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.
You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”
“Bed.”
“(Y/n)-”
“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”
“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.
“You heard me.”
“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.
“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”
“(Y/n)-”
“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”
“I know.”
“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”
“I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”
You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”
“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.
“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”
He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.
“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”
“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.
“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”
“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.
“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”
“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”
You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.
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15K notes · View notes
127rkives · 9 months
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uhhhh idk if anyone has discussed this before but... miguel likes to eat pussy from the back!!!
like idk, every once in a while, his brain goes brrrr and something short circuits. idk chalk it up to stress but it's more like some feral, animalistic urge. he can’t really explain it. it’s almost as if someone flips a switch, his mind goes blank except for the thought of needing to be with you, under you, in you. he has to stop whatever he’s doing and go find you.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
and as soon as he makes it home to find you relaxed on the couch, he's flipping you over, contorting you face down ass up, and he’s nuzzling into your clothed pussy like a dog in fucking heat. when he’s finally spent just enough time shrouded in the scent of you, he's yanking your shorts off. he’s been at this for approximately 2 minutes but there's already a wet patch in the center of your panties. that sight makes his pupils dilate before going in for the kill. his claws come out to rip your panties to shreds right before he straight up nose dives into your pussy, and granted you can feel him, the action still catches you off guard enough for you to emit a loud gasp. it’s just too much too fast. “mig- ohhh!~”
“mmm... mmmf” miguel gets so much satisfaction from tasting you that he releases moans of his own. they would be bouncing around the room and intermingling with yours except right now he can't bring himself to pry his tongue from the slick walls of your cunt. 
“oh my gosh- miguel!”
hearing you raise your voice in alarm while saying his name is enough to make miguel pause for a second. you take the moment of reprieve to look over your shoulder— huffing and puffing— only to be stunned by miguel’s animalistic look. his curls are messily hanging near his eyes which are dark, yet spacey as if he’s on another planet. his lips are parted just enough to show a peek of his fangs as he breathes heavily through his mouth after suffocating himself with your pussy, and a gleaming mixture of his spit and your slick is smothered over half of his face and all the way down to his collarbone.
“m- miggy could you just give me a few seconds?” you ask. miguel tilts his head to the side and scoffs. a curt “no” is all you get before miguel locks his arms around your thighs to drag you back to his watering mouth. you don’t have claws like miguel but if you did the couch cushions would definitely be in shreds from the way you’re gripping them. 
the wet slurps of miguel’s tongue lapping at your cunt are soon paired with two of his thick fingers easily slipping in thanks to your arousal. he scissors them for a moment before adding a third. the speed he uses to pump them in and out and the feeling of his slightly calloused fingers against your gummy walls leaves you floating in the clouds. you’re brought crashing back down, however, when a deep groan from miguel sends sparks up your spine. soon enough you feel pressure building at the bottom of your stomach, only it doesn’t feel like it usually does. in a fit of panic you try to drag yourself out of miguel’s grip.
“ohhh my go- miggy!” it’s all you can do to let out little slurred calls of his name, but it doesn’t matter. miguel’s not stopping until he’s satisfied. your escape attempts are useless, but the wiggling is enough to piss him off.
“querida. don’t move so much. be good.” but you can’t be still. the tingly feeling in your tummy is growing and all you can do let out breathy moans as you thrash around in ecstacy.
“ahh- i can- can’t help it!”
all of your moving loosened miguel’s grip too much for his liking. in less than a second, he's yanking you back towards his mouth and hoisting your hips just high enough to wrap his lips around your cute little clit. 
one hard suck is all it takes before you’re squealing at the top of your lungs. a scream of “miguel!~” is the only thing leaving your lips while your vision goes white and your breathing stops for a second. miguel is unrelenting behind you, switching to messily swiping his thumb across your clit and shoving his tongue back into your pulsating cunt in an attempt to catch every last drop squirting in to his mouth. 
even when your arms give out beneath you and you faceplant into the couch miguel is still lapping at your outer lips like he’s been saved after being stranded in the desert for a year.
and like that, it’s like the switch in his brain flips again. he smooths his hands up and down your trembling thighs and scatters kisses in a path up your back to the nape of your neck. “you okay, cariño?” a weak “mhm” is all you can muster up as you turn your head to flash miguel a floaty smirk. he smiles and chuckles, recognizing the foggy look in your eyes. covered in a sheen of sweat and high off the feeling of him is just one of the times miguel thinks you look the most beautiful.
after ghosting his hands across your skin and giving you a few minutes to calm down, miguel goes to gently move you to his lap. he buries his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling all of you. with the little strength you have, you wiggle around in his lap attempting to get comfortable but something is in the way- 
“ohh~” miguel’s breath is hot on your neck as he groans into it. his fangs graze your skin, his hands grasp onto your hips for dear life and oh...
someone flipped the damn switch again...
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demigoddessqueens · 11 months
Text
soft headcanons
Based off these concept art expressions that the crew posted on Twitter
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a soft Miguel is a rarity but you would know firsthand how he can get. Despite all his bark and bite, Miguel can also be pain-stakingly quiet and apprehensively seeks you out sometimes
ABSOLUTELY pouts and broods, so much so that when you look at him with a concerned expression (“are you ok?”), he feels guilty for worrying you
It’s the self-loathing that can eat away at him, thinking a good thing is going to slip away fast from him
a WHINY cuddler who lays on top on you, likes to bury his head into/under you neck. Also play with his hair!
Is the EPITOME of the touch-starved cheetah meme
he knows the size difference between you two (if there is one), which makes him feel protective as well towards you
If you’re a fellow comrade, he feels a bit of relief because you’re still within reach of him
EDIT: if Miguel ever has nightmares, he talks in his sleep and even gasping awake makes you wake up as well. Don’t blame him though, he’ll hide his face in your neck in the most bone-crushing hug, and only then it dawns on you what happened when your shoulder feels wet
also likes to stay close to you a bunch of times, nickname “Shadow” that he groans at when you say it
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devilishcupid · 11 months
Text
CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara
☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.
☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader
☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing
☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.
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"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."
"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.
"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."
"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.
"Miguel!"
And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.
His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.
Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.
He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.
"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.
Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.
You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.
"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"
Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.
"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."
"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."
You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."
Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."
"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.
"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."
He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.
"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."
Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."
With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.
But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.
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liliacamethyst · 11 months
Text
Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 
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Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 3.7K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.
Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.
However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.
Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.
You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.
One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.
"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.
He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."
There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.
In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.
Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.
His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.
During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.
But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.
This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.
And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.
Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”
You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.
Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.
You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.
As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.
“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”
Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”
You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.
Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”
You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”
“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.
Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”
Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”
You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.
"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.
Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.
"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.
"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"
His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.
He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.
"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."
“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.
“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.
Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.
He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”
“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”
He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”
“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”
He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”
“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”
The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.
“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.
Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.
“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”
Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.
“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”
Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”
You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.
Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.
Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.
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The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.
The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.
The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.
"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.
You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.
The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.
"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.
You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.
Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.
You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.
Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.
With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.
The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.
“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”
The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.
“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.
Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.
“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.
Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.
Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.
As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.
Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."
Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.
"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.
Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"
Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”
Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”
Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”
Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"
Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.
"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.
"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.
“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.
“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.
Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know,  I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”
Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.
Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.
Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”
“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.
“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.
Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.
After she leaves, the trio leans in.
“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.
Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”
Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”
They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.
As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.
"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.
"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.
There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.
"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.
"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”
Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.
"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."
Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."
You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.
"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"
“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.
You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”
Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”
You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"
Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”
“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”
There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.
Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”
Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”
Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."
You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.
“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.” 
They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.
Part 2 “Webs of Fate”
a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx
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sillyblues · 10 months
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𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: miguel tells you how annoying you are
ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: last and second part of annoying is here!! thank you so much for the huge support yall broke my app my notifications weren’t loading properly lmao THANK YOU! this was supposed to be just a short one but here we are with a part two and a bit bigger word count m’gonna need rest and need more time for the preggo fic
part 1
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Wordlessly, you left the team. You returned to your own Earth and did your own thing again. There was a slight tinge of unfamiliarity, knowing that you might never work with other spider people, your friends, again, but you forced the feeling down.
Miguel’s outburst haunted you wherever you went. Even as you fought villains that disturbed the peacefulness of your home, even as you mingled with the other civilians and hung out with your friends, even as you laid down in the comfort of your bed, his words would constantly echo through your head, and they would threaten the fall of your tears every single time.
If Miguel thought you were annoying, what about your other friends? Do they think you were bothersome as well? Maybe, you bitterly thought as you brought your knees to your face. Maybe the civilians don’t like you as well. The thought of the people you treasure and care for so dearly, the people whom you devoted most of your life to save, the people whom you risk getting hurt every day for, hating you, left you breathless.
More tears fell, and you gasped. The ache in your heart was too much to bear and seemed to sting your entire being. You clutched your chest as you laid sideways on your bed, pillows and blanket long scattered on the floor. You tried to muffle your cries, but it was useless, as they still vibrated through the room of your apartment.
Oh, god. Please don’t hate me. Don’t hate me, please. Don’thatemepleasedon’thatemeplease—
“[Name]?” the familiar voice momentarily halted you in your weeping. You slowly rose a bit, supporting yourself on your arm and looked towards the source of it. Peter’s worried look greeted you as he crawled himself out of your window. 
“Oh, [Name].” you wavered at his heartbroken voice. He immediately rushed in to hug you. He sat on your bed beside you and embraced you. He rocked you back and forth, one hand on the back of your head that leaned into the crook of his neck, and one hand caressed your back.
“P-Peter, I ca– I can’t,” you hiccupped, and with shaking fingers, you gripped his suit tight. You felt your heart would burst with the way it was beating so fast and hard, ringing in your ears. “I can’t— I can’t breathe.”
“It’s okay, [Name]. I got you. I’m here, okay?” his voice was slightly muffled by the top of your head, but you could still hear him. “I want you to listen to me. Stay with me, yeah?”
You tried your best to respond, but it felt like your body wasn’t listening to you. He pulled back a little and held your face in his hands. You look at his eyes full of undisguised concern overflowing, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hate you too. You gathered what was left of your little strength and nodded weakly.
“Can you tell me three things around your room?” you try to look around as you cling to his arms. You looked away from his eyes and looked around you. Your old lampshade provided you with dim lighting in your dark, cold room. Your messy books were in disarray on the table. You saw a mirror. You saw yourself and how miserable you looked. Your face was wet with tears, and your eyes were red. You also saw how Peter looked at you with such solicitude, and you want to cry all over again.
“Um, lampshade.” You said and winced at the painful scratch in your throat and your hoarse voice. “Books. Mirror.”
“Good job. You did well. Can you move three body parts for me?” you unclasped your hands from his arms and tried to clench and unclench them. You wiggled your head out of his hold, embarrassment starting to creep onto you being seen so sticky and so wet and such a mess. It was fortunate that he understood and he chuckled. You were silent for a moment, and you didn't know what else to move so you settled on headbutting Peter.
“Ow! Of all things, really? Can't believe this is what I get,” he grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. You giggled at his exaggerated expression and unknowingly to you, your tears had stopped flowing, and only hiccups remained.
“Are you feeling better, [Name]? You can talk to me, my shoulder is vacant for you. Or do you want me to just stay quiet? Because yeah, I can do either. Just tell me what to do,” you chuckled even more at that. “I’ll even give you a pass for laughing at me.”
Seeing Peter comfort you like that, there was a sense of relief wash over you. It was obvious he was being genuine with you and if he wasn't, he most likely wouldn't even have the patience to sit with you and let you cry on him.
“It's nothing, um, it's just that,” you sighed as you weakly played with your fingers. The words are lodged in your throat, and you slowly breathe out. He looked at you with encouragement to take it slow, to breathe and you did. “I found out people at the headquarters think I talk too much and they didn’t really like me. Then I made Miguel mad, and I learned how I was annoying him. He probably hates me. And, uh, it got me thinking, what if you and Jess and Hobie think the same way? What if everyone thinks the same way?”
There was an urge to cry again, but it felt like you had cried it all out. There was none left for you to cry anymore.
“Wow, I knew Miguel was all bite and no bark, but I didn’t expect he’d bite that deep. What the hell is wrong with him?” the genuine disbelief made you sputter and chuckle. 
“First of all, whoever doesn’t like you is automatically wrong. I mean, who could not like you? You literally make everyone’s day. Jess loves gushing with you about her husband, and Hobie loves talking about how his punk stuff and fighting the literal government which I think it’s really pretty cool of him don’t tell him that he’s going to tell me I should do it as well and I just can’t,” he said. “And I love talking to you because you’re funny and so positive you just know how to make me cheer up. Besides, I’m talking too much now, aren’t I? Always have been. But did you think I was annoying?”
“No! I never once thought you were one.” You replied without a beat.
“Exactly. Us either. Look, [Name], everyone loves you. Trust me when I say that.” He said with confidence and finality that you had no choice but to believe him,
“But, Miguel..”
“He's stupid. I know. Don’t mind what he said because it’s all bullshit anyways.” He grins. “Lyla told me what happened. I’m not taking his side because what he said is just wrong and I get you, you know? Having to hear all of that hurts. But from the bottom of my heart, I think Miguel did not mean what he said. Like, all the pent-up stress got to his head and boom, it suddenly burst out. I’m not saying that it was a valid reason, no. I just wanted to let you know that he doesn’t truly think you’re annoying, you know?”
“Besides, from all the time I knew him, I had never seen him genuinely enjoy his time with someone nor mope so bad when you didn’t come to the headquarters anymore.” He said with a deadpan expression at the end.
“Pfft, really?”
“Yes, really.”
There was a pause, it wasn’t awkward but it made you appreciate him more for coming here for you. He smiled at you and you did too, leaning on his shoulder for support. He hugged you sideways, one arm rubbing the side of your arm and you closed your eyes.
“I missed you, [Name]. We all did.”
“...I missed you all too.”
.
.
.
The decision to come back to the headquarters was a bit hard but you took it slow with Peter’s support. He never rushed you nor forced you to come back which you really appreciated and when you did return, you were sure you didn’t regret it. Jess and Hobie immediately latched onto you, they hugged you tight and told you how much they missed you so bad. They asked you how had you been, if you were alright, if were you hurt, and all that. Seeing their sincere worry for you, you smiled hard enough to hurt your cheeks and slowly you were going back to the old, happy you.
What changed right now was that you avoided Miguel. When you first returned to the headquarters, Miguel was there a bit far away from you. You could feel his earnest gaze at you and you looked at him briefly. The bags underneath his eyes seemed to be bigger and you wonder if he had gotten a bit bigger too. A reminder of his words rang instantly through your head and you breathed deeply silently. You quickly looked away as soon as you laid your eyes on him and that remained true for a couple of weeks.
During the briefing of your missions, he would look at you expectantly as if you would stand beside him like you always did. But you usually stood nearby Hobie who was at the entrance of his office. Sometimes you stood beside Jess and Peter which was a bit near him but not quite so.
“You’re not gonna be near him?” Hobie once asked as he lay down on a flat surface. He nudged his head in Miguel’s direction who was looking at you a couple of times as he talked about the mission details. You smiled bitterly. 
“Aight, guess I got more time to catch up with you, huh?” the tip of his lips lifted up, “Wanna leg it and come join the protest in my home?”
“Oh no.” you silently snorted.
“What? It’s fun and we’re doing the right thing, you know.”
“Hobie, are you listening?” Miguel’s voice interrupted you both. You look away, not yet keen on looking at him.
“Yes, big boss. Ears open for you, don’t worry about me,” he stretched his arms before he folded them to lay his head on his clasped fingers. You wondered why he hadn’t called you when you weren’t really listening to him as well. Maybe he targeted Hobie on purpose to make you feel uncomfortable? You bit your lip. No, that can’t be. Peter said Miguel didn’t hate you and you trusted him so despite the voices haunting voices once more, you decided to believe in him.
Sometimes, you two would meet outside the building on his favourite Mexican stand outside the building. Maybe it was a habit formed over the time you knew him that you would buy him his empanadas. Now that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him just yet, you bought some for yourself. You could not deny that you missed buying his food, only to eat half of it yourself.
“Ah, it’s [Name]! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Mrs. Flores exclaimed as soon as she saw your walking figure towards her. You two have gotten close a bit back then and has since then insisted you to call her ‘Abuela’. “Have you lost weight? You’ve gotten smaller since I last saw you!”
You didn’t think you did but before you could deny she was immediately cooking some empanadas, “Just wait, I’ll cook some for you, okay? No need to pay.”
“Abuela, thank you, but I can’t accept this without payment. Please, let me pay,” you opened your wallet and took some money but she wasn’t having it.
“No! I told you I don’t need any money! Do I look like I need some, huh? Don’t make me angry,” she threateningly pointed her clamps at you. You just sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness was stronger than any villain you had fought. Suddenly, a figure crept behind you and you paid it no mind, figuring it was some other customer but the voice surprised you.
“Buenas tardes, Señora. Lo de siempre por favor.” You looked at Miguel in reflex. He wore a plain white shirt and trousers and oh, he was so close to you. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but hesitation dripped from him so you took the opportunity to look away and stepped to your side to create some distance between you.
“Oh, ¿es tú novio, [Name]? ¡Lo sabía! Why didn’t you say so? He’s been the one buying empanadas instead when you were gone.” You choked on your own saliva and embarrassment immediately crept up your cheeks. You coughed it out as she side-eyed you. Miguel was silent and you wonder if he wasn’t going to clear this misunderstanding up.
“You had a fight, didn’t you?”
“No, Abuela, he’s not my boyfriend—”
“He isn’t? ¡Qué hombre más estúpido! Are your eyes not properly working? What are you still waiting for?” she snorted at him. The bubbling noises from the oil fill the silence as you didn’t really know how to respond in this situation. 
“Well whatever, you will fix it, won’t you?” she glared at him. In that moment, you felt loved once more and you were starting to truly believe that those who said you were annoying were wrong. You bit your lip. You did not deny to yourself that you were expecting to hear his answer.
“I will.” He replied with such determination and resolution as he looked at you. Your heart throbbed, you saw how much he wanted to fix things right with you and you didn’t know how to feel. Glad? Happy? But you also felt upset at yourself because you almost wanted to smile just because of that and it felt like you were too easy in forgiving him even though he hurt you so much. You quickly dismissed the confusing feelings down and when Abuela gave you the empanadas, you hurriedly slipped some bills while you took the food and almost ran off.
But everything would have to come to an end, including this avoidance of yours of him. You sorted out your thoughts, and your feelings, each day as you avoided him like a plague after numerous encounters because you feared that if you saw him one more time, you would burst out and say things that you didn’t mean like he did. 
On the day that you decided to finally stop everything and just talk to him, you were beaten to it by Miguel. You were looking through the windows in the building and stared at the beautiful blue skies and the white clouds that decorated it. The flying cars and the mega train running vertically were like the birds and the beam of sunlight back in your home and you were reminded of the differences you and Miguel had. 
“[Name],” his voice was so soft, so unlike the tone he had the day he yelled at you. You admit you had gotten comfortable with the pain you felt since that day that you still wanted to evade his gazes and attempts to reach out to you. But the rational part of you, the one that grew from the pain, knew you had to meet his eyes this time. To let him reach you this time. And so you did. You looked at him, you looked at his eyes that were looking at you so desperately, so hesitatingly.
“Can we talk, please? Just the two of us,” he said but to you, it felt like he pleaded with the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw was clenched, awaiting your words that seemed like it would decide his fate.
“Okay,” you breathed out and he did too. The crease on his forehead slowly thinned out and his shoulders moved back. You knew that if someone different saw Miguel like this, they would think he was normal and that he wasn’t acting differently. But you knew better. Despite the tough shell he portrayed, there was a man vulnerable just like you. You just had a soft shell.
You two went to his office and the door closed behind you two. He asked Lyla to not let anyone enter for at least a while so nobody would disturb you both. She saw you and waved brightly at you. She then nodded and finally disappeared.
“Before you say anything, can you honestly answer this one question I have? Just one, please,” you asked him, nerves started to creep onto you and you wanted to look away so bad but you have to search for the truth in his eyes. You have to know his answer to your question.
“Sure, yes. I’ll be honest, I swear.” He promised you.
“Did you ever really think I was annoying? That all I do was nothing but cause trouble for you?”
“Never.” 
“Liar.” You were disappointed. You were not as stupid and oblivious as others thought of you. There was a part of yourself that knew that you were bothering them. That you were bothering him. But you couldn’t help it. You cared for him and if talking too much, if bothering him would make him distracted from the grief and the pain he had from Gabriella then you would gladly do it.
“No, I wasn’t lying, [Name]—” you looked away. He couldn’t even be honest with you. Were you that unworthy of honesty? That was all you had asked. You clenched your fist and let your nails dig into your palm. “Listen to me, please.”
You start to walk away.
“[Name], por favor,”
You were nearing the exit.
“I— fuck it, yes! I didn’t like you because you were so annoying. I hated you.” You immediately looked back at him. Disbelief was obvious in your face and tears fell from your eyes. You felt a sense of betrayal at this. If he hated me so much, then why did he let me so close to him? Were you just a show to him? Were you entertaining? He was approaching you and strength had left your legs from the shock at what he said but you remained still.
“I hated the way you talked so much I felt like I was losing a part of myself because I wanted to know more about you and listen to you talk. I hated the way you know so much about me. I felt like you could see through me and I was so scared that you would hate me if you knew what I truly am. I hated the way you cared for me like no other because I cared for you too and I was so terrified to lose you too. I hated the way you’re so reckless, you don’t care if you get hurt as long as it’s for others.” He stopped in front of you and tears were also coming out from his eyes. “I hated the way you captured my whole attention whenever you’re there by my side because I can’t look at anything else anymore. I can’t work properly anymore. I can’t think properly anymore and– and I, oh fuck.”
What?
“You’re so annoying because you distract me so much. I hated you because I fell for you and you’re all I could think about and I just don’t know anymore,” he shakily breathed out. His figure was so big but at this moment, you felt like he was so small. His tears ran continuously like a furious stream and you were sure yours were too.
“When you left, it didn’t feel right anymore. I missed you talking to me. I missed you eating my food. I missed you annoying me. I missed you so much it hurts.” His voice turned hoarse and you finally moved. You caressed your hand on his cheeks and he leaned his face against your touch. “Lo siento, [Name]. I really am. Es la verdad, por favor créeme. Por favor…”
“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried out as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. But you couldn’t really blame him. Because he was the same as you. Despite his flying cars and vertical running train and your birds and beam of sunlight, there was still the same blue sky and white clouds. Despite his tough shell and your soft one, you two were just as vulnerable as the other.
“I’m sorry, don’t hate me please…” he croaked out and gripped onto your suit tight. You leaned back a bit to hold his face in your palms. His face was wet, his hair was a mess, and he looked so haggard. You lean your forehead against his.
“I don’t, I promise. I could never hate you and I hate you for it as well,” you giggled amidst your tears. 
Really, he was such a stupid man and you were so annoying.
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wyvernest · 8 months
Text
mating szn
PART 2‼️ (part 1)
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pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: horny miguel, smut, fluff, dryhumping, unprotected p-i-v, breeding kink, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating, descriptions of oral sex (f!receiving), rough sex
summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy
Stumbling and yelping in sync with his heavy footsteps catching up fast, you reach the first floor.
Before you get to offer yourself a fraction of a second to decide your next move, the hallway carpet curls up under your feet, slipping behind as your arms instinctively shoot forward for you to catch yourself.
Bringing one knee to your chest, you're prepared to launch yourself forward like an olympic runner. 
Too bad.
Miguel's broad hands grip your waist from behind, once again sending jolts of adrenaline throughout your entire system.
You scream in delight through playful giggles, calling out his name breathlessly and maliciously arching into his hold. 
You're getting wetter by the second seeing just how horny he is.
He pushes you down, forcing you on both knees. The deep pants from the chase quickly turn into something else as you feel his weight on your back, feel him get on one knee behind you. 
His grip on your waist tightens. He brings his crotch up to your ass, grinding his erection up and down your clothed slit.
His hips roll slowly, rubbing the thick shaft of his hard-on lazily and mindlessly, the motions shallow and enticing.
"Ah, come on, baby", He leans forward, nuzzling his face into your soft hair, basking in the slightly-sweet, flowery scent of your shampoo. With a messy kiss to your neck, he speaks, raspy with need,
"Can't help it." More wet, sloppy kisses to your neck, more thrusts of his rock hard cock against your drenched folds through the thin material of your panties and his boxers. "I need, I need - ugh" the words fail to form as his hot breath hits the back of your neck, followed by more kisses and bites.
He brings a hand to the meat of your right thigh, grabbing harshly. He then lets it slip up over the mound of your pussy, cupping you and pushing two fingers over your folds, still stopped by your panties. You shiver at the feeling of his huge, warm palm touching your core so pervertedly, so desperately. 
He can feel the wet patch on the cotton fabric, proof of reciprocated desire.
His senses once again catch the unmistakable, ever so dearly intoxicating aroma of you, so ready for him. His eyes roll back with a silent inhale, his bare chest rising and falling on your back. 
He wants nothing more than to bury his face between your plush thighs and lap at your essence, pussy-drunk and keen on overstimulating you; licking and sucking at your clit, circling around your damp folds with his tongue until you're pushing him away, begging for a break, swollen and exhausted.
He can almost imagine you, tangling your fingers in his hair, pushing and pulling, either smothering him into your velvety cunt, needy and on the edge, or trying to escape his grip. He'd only hold you down, burly arms curling around your legs, just so he could make you come again, to feel you pulsate, feel your juices coat his mouth.
But with the way his cock twitches, begging for friction and stimulation, he can't think straight. 
He feels an overwhelming urge to shove himself inside you and fill you with his cum, to see his cock rearranging your guts through your belly, to empty his balls in your womb and watch his seed dribble out of you, and push it back in with his still hard cock, hold it there so that it takes.
His warm, eager hands travel down to your panties, and in their loose hold as he attempts to drag them down your thighs, you once again snake away, giggling with a sardonic grin that doesn't do well in covering up the desire evident on your features.
"¡Mierda!" He grunts, and you enter the bedroom, reaching the balcony door and turning around. You catch the sight of Miguel clawing at the door frame to take the turn and come in faster. 
Before you can react and take your eyes off the enormous bulge in his shorts, the defined shape of his dick protruding erotically against the material, he pounces, caging you against the wall, distancing your legs far apart with one knee.
His palms slip to your sides, not missing the savory opportunity to settle on the sides of your tits. He fondles their softness with the heels of his hands, pushing them together, pressing his whole body into yours.
You let out a barely audible moan as he corners you, almost squeezing you between his muscular frame and the wall behind you, and he almost loses all that's left of his sanity.
He kisses your temple, full of yearning. Although, he's instantly reminded that his scent has worn off of your feverish skin.  
"Por favor,-" a deep groan vibrates in his chest against you, making you quiver.
"He estado cachondo todo el día," (I've been horny all day). He holds you tight against him, your tender breasts pressed flush against his pecs.
"No podía pensar en nada más que en ti" (I couldn't think of anything but you.) 
You finally give in and offer a smidge of relief, sliding your hand down to grab his clothed hard cock. The second he feels you palm him tentatively, he reflexively starts rubbing himself on your hand like an animal in heat, groaning ruggedly.
"That's it." He rasps, fed up, and it's almost a threat.
He slowly walks over to the bed with you secure in his arms, but when his knees hit the frame, he doesn't drop you like he normally would. No. He's not giving you another chance to flee. A part of him loves the cat-and-mouse game he knows you enjoy so much, but the other part can already feel his fat, full balls turning blue.
Placing you down, hands still gripping your waist viciously, he gets on the bed, the mattress sinking down under his weight.
You feel your clit throb as he traps you with his thighs, taking your shirt off. His touch leaves goosebumps over your silky skin.
Under your hazy gaze fixed on his movements, he hovers above you, skipping the usual looks of adoration. Not that the sentiments were gone by any means, but he was far too needy to wait any longer.
The kiss he suffocates you with is fiery, full of all the pent up tension he had to endure.
As his mouth moves against yours eagerly and messily, you notice how it lacks his characteristic expert, methodical approach.
His lips were just as soft as ever, but devoured your every moan and breath with a fervor unfamiliar. His tongue slips past the liplock, dominating you in no time, and right when you start to adjust to the new strategy, catching up with his movements, he parts from you, breaking the kiss and sucking your soul out of you with it.
He continues his attack down your throat, biting and licking hurriedly, marking you as his. 
Groaning freely, he reaches your breasts, taking them in his mouth, one after the other. His hands squeeze, roam and play with them, making you bite down on your lower lip and whine beneath him.
He suckles on the perked nipples, releasing them to catch his breath with another gravel moan. When he's done, your chest is coated in his spit; fresh, hickies already blooming over your tender tits.
The weight of his cock settles on your thigh, pressed snugly and oozing precum through a dark spot on his boxers. 
Your own hands attach to his silky dark hair, caressing and brushing wild strands away from his forehead, clinging and pulling occasionally when he latches onto your breasts again after taking a few deep breaths.
Sliding lower, impatiently licking and biting over the line of your stomach, he finally gets to your panties. 
He kisses the soft lips of your pussy through the fabric, the scent of your arousal driving him mad. He groans again, words slurred through the desperate, obscene licks, "Eres.." He extends his tongue, lapping up at the dampness, "..tan bonita." (You're so pretty)
Your heels are digging into his shoulder blades as you squirm and moan under his sultry touch. Through half lidded eyes, you see him bare his pearl white fangs, as if prepared to sink them into your sensitive skin.
You gasp, a little above a moan.
"Miguel! Don't - ah" You whimper as he grits his teeth around the elastic of your panties, tearing them in two with the help of one hand.
He grabs your thighs, kneeling between your legs.
Shoving his hand in his shorts, he takes his dick out, its mushroom head glistening mauve. He begins to stroke it more violently than you thought he would've taken pleasure in.
Mouth agape, pupils blown wide, he looks downright primal. Solely focused on claiming you, on stuffing you full of his potent seed, of draining his fat balls in your warm cunt until you're begging him to stop through ablaze overstimulation.
Cock in hand, incontestably massive encompassed by his proportionally large fingers, he slaps the hard, angered, heavy shaft on your tender folds, groaning at the wet sound of flesh against flesh. He rubs it over your lips, drenching it in your juices.
You notice his thighs flex, already insanely sensitive. When he eases the head in, he moans, rough and low in his throat, brows creased in pained pleasure. You whimper his name, legs quivering faintly on each side of his waist.
Using his weight to press your body down into the mattress, forcing you onto him, he slides his arms underneath your knees, throwing them over his shoulders and bending you in half.
A shiver bursts through you at the sensation. You clench around him, forcing a strangled groan out of his throat.
He braces himself down on his forearms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. Pushing in, the bulbous tip of his cock kisses your cervix as he bottoms out and gets straight to a tireless pace, not giving you the ritualistic second to adjust. 
The bed creaks and squeaks with the way he's throwing himself into your cunt, pounding you into the soft cushions relentlessly. 
His hips gyrate roughly against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you, dipping his meaty cock in your juices with an obscene, wet squelching, finishing each delicious swing with a quicker entry, more forceful and animalistic. His pubes brush harshly against your engorged, swollen clit, sending jolts of electricity through your core.
Skipping the tension, the build-up of speed, he drives straight to the euphoric rhythm of a release chase. His balls slap onto your ass, his pelvic bone nearly delivering bruising slams against your own.
“Ugh, oh Miguel-,” you gasp for more air, struggling to form a coherent sentence through delirium, your breaths and moans rhythmically timed by his rough thrusts. 
You curl your arms around his neck, nails digging into his back and shoulders. He looks down at you, watching your breasts bounce in his face, and starts rutting harder into you, every ridge and vein of his fat cock brushing against your sensitive spots perfectly.
Each time you call for him, it's a melody, a rapturous chant that has him on his knees, his mind in cobwebs, his heart aching; and for the time being, his cock throbbing as well.
"I'm - ah! Cumming!Ugh, M- Mig- uel- !" You moan sharply, your orgasm rapidly threatening to burst like fireworks.
He frowns, panting, shallow breaths hot over your face. You convulse under his massive body, arching your back, squeezing your tits flush against his feverish skin. 
He feels your pussy flutter around his cock, milking him and sucking him in. He groans loudly in your ear, pace faltering ever so slightly. The headboard of the bed keeps slamming against the room wall, spurring your orgasm on with the reminder of the force of the man above you.
With one final thrust, his whole body tenses. He pushes forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, dumping his load in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips. You feel his dick pulsate inside you with each new spurt of cum, the remnants of your own climax making you clench around him reflexively.
He stills, relief washing over him. Meeting your gaze, he watches how you come back to your senses, the blinding lust replaced by love and admiration.
He grabs your waist and pulls you down with him, laying you on his chest, his softening cock still inside you.
You close your eyes, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Dinner long forgotten.
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divider by @cafekitsune
a/n: did my best here. the tags deadass took longer than the writing
TAGS
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cheralith · 11 months
Text
to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader 」
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content warnings ; fem!reader, use of she/her pronouns, "mother"/"daughter"/"wife" used, parental death, mentions of child abandonment, not too much mention of him being spider-man
contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, hints of pining, just some good ol' fluff for everyone's current favorite dilf, angst w/ comfort, heavy need of editing prob, not beta read
notes ; purely self-indulgent to fuel my love of found family trope apologies
parts: one two three four (tba)
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Single Father!Miguel O'Hara whose life revolves essentially around one person—his daughter—but to be one of the heads of America’s largest corporation and bearing the responsibility of keeping Nueva York safe and sound whilst simultaneously being a single father was not exactly something that Miguel O’Hara could juggle so easily. Hell, he’s even surprised that he’s made it so far without losing his absolute sanity considering he couldn’t even recall the last time he was able to rest properly without his attention being wavered to something or someone else.
Single Father!Miguel whose hands always filled to the brim with tasks and obligations. Miguel wished he was able to clone himself twice in order to have three Miguel O’Haras attending to each of his duties soundly, but alas, Alchemax and the matter of his mind can only do so much.
Single Father!Miguel whose ever so lucky to have you as his assistant to at least help with two out of three of them. You entered the picture around three years ago, when he had caught the eye of his superiors and had used his intelligence to their own advantage, disguising it as a promotion of sorts. You were given as some sort of gift to them as a way to help ease his workload and he truly couldn’t be more thankful for your existence—if he doesn’t necessarily show it most of the time from his stoic countenance he masks on 24/7. While not exactly a carbon copy of him, you, by far, come rather close, and Miguel will take whatever comes to him in this day and age.
Single Father!Miguel who notices that you're obedient and demure, though rather soft spoken and a little too apprehensive for his liking at times (he had noticed, before you became his assistant, that your coworkers would shovel their workload onto you and you’d accept with little complaint but evident hesitation; he wonders if it was the given similarities between you and him that made him choose you as his assistant). You dressed well, hung onto every word he said, and spoke out when properly needed. You were a good aid to have around—great, even.
Single Father!Miguel who trusts you as both his assistant and a human being enough to leave his precious daughter in your care knowing full well she would be in good hands. Sometimes Alchemax would work him overtime, sometimes his duties as Spider-Man would interfere. No matter what it was, it delayed him from seeing and attending to his daughter’s needs, and thus, he had asked you once in a while to pick up and babysit his daughter after your usual 9-5.
Single Father!Miguel who, at the beginning, once in a while asked you to pick his daughter up from school. Once in a while turned into occasionally. Occasionally turned into sometimes. Sometimes turned into constantly, and next thing Miguel knew, you were the one that his daughter and teachers would look out for during school pick up time. He didn’t expect that you would become his assistant even outside of work, but you did, and Miguel can’t exactly turn back time now. He’s labeled you as his child’s unofficial secondary caretaker—you’re even listed as an emergency contact.
Single Father!Miguel who thinks you’re too polite for your own good. Miguel had asked you once if this was a burden, being his assistant both in and out of Alchemax, and if it became too much that you were more than free to quit at any sudden time without consequence. You had merely replied that you understood the struggles of being a single parent and that he shouldn’t be ashamed of asking for help when it was needed. 
Single Father!Miguel who notices that Gabriella views you more than just her occasional babysitter. When he'd come home late at night, he was usually greeted by you two doing something together, whether it be doing math homework together, baking cookies, you reading aloud to her, or just simply talking, he'd always catch you and her almost... bonding.
Single Father!Miguel who often dwells on the memory of young Gabriella asking innocently why she doesn't have two parents like the rest of her classmates, why she only had one parent compared to everyone else after witnessing she was the odd one out during Family Day. Miguel didn't, and still doesn't, have the courage to tell her that her real mother had abandoned her to him, leaving Miguel in the dust. Miguel used her naivety to his advantage. He disguised it as her being unique compared to others, that some moms just came later in life; she just happened to be a late bloomer.
Single Father!Miguel who always thanks you for staying late tucking Gabriella into bed when he couldn't. You constantly tell him that it's truly no problem, but he insists on thanking you every time and ever so subtly increasing your paycheck. How could he not? Especially considering the fact you always, always whip him up extra dinner that was tucked away for him to eat during the late hours of night.
Single Father!Miguel who feels uneasy as he opens up a fridge to find the said pasta left by you one night in a glass tupperware container, staring at how neatly it’s been plated despite its standard container. He juts it into the microwave as he attempts to ignore how quiet and desolate the kitchen and the apartment is, how the humming of the microwave and the humdrum of the ceiling fan are the only noise that floats through. And when he quietly eats the pasta serving meant for one, he can’t help but gaze longingly at the empty seat across the dining table, where someone else should be seated with him sharing the same meal.
Single Father!Miguel who finally has the time to pick up his daughter after school for once in the school year, but forgot to tell you that you were able to take the rest of the day off. So you, him, Gabriella, and essentially everyone are surprised when both you and Miguel show up to pick Gabriella up after school. One of the teachers goes to gush about how she's excited to meet Gabriella's dad and what a beautiful family you all are, to which you and Miguel, evidently flustered, explain loosely your relationship to each other and how it's merely professional (to one curly-headed third grader, though, it's not—but she'd never tell you and her father that. At least not now.).
Single Father!Miguel who tags along to Gabriella's after school soccer practice for once and despite your protests about you not wanting to interfere "family time", Miguel and his daughter convince you to come watch her like you usually did on Wednesdays. He says he doesn't mind at all and if anything, could use your presence there to ease his nerves since he'd be a newcomer to the soccer parent group.
Single Father!Miguel who watches attentively to how you support Gabriella on the field from the sidelines. He wonders tenaciously if you've fallen into routine of this—from helping her get ready into her uniform to offering small suggestions that help her on the soccer field. He doesn't miss the way her eyes go towards you whenever she did something right and he especially catches onto the fact that she would gush in pure happiness from your approval when you would throw a thumbs up or a delighted nod.
Single Father!Miguel who merely blinks at the compliments given by the two friendly soccer mom next to him.
"Gabi does certainly look a lot like you, but she still has (Y/N)'s beauty and kindness, doesn't she?"
"Oh yes, I agree. Your wife is nothing less of lovely, you know, you're a very lucky man, Mr. O'Hara!"
He's so caught up in trying to process both their words and Gabriella's action on the field, that it doesn't register to him until a few moments later. Miguel attempts to butt in, saying that you're just his subordinate, but when a loud cheer from the other team erupts through, his words fail him.
Single Father!Miguel whose mind is still so stuck on what the soccer moms had said about you that he didn't even realize Gabriella had made the winning goal for today's practice match. Lying through his teeth when asked about if he saw it from her, he realizes that perhaps he should start viewing you in a different light rather than just his daughter's babysitter because the way that Gabriella looks at you with such elation when you congratulate her on her win pulls at his heartstrings ever so slightly.
Single Father!Miguel who contemplates over and over again if he should be doing this—inviting you to Gabriella's first game of the season—the two purchased tickets he held in his fist. You've entered his home a dozen of times, but this would be the first time in three years that he was outside of your own residence. He thinks he's too dressed up for the occasion, cladded in a white button up and black dress pants. A voice asks him if he's his daughter's boyfriend, and Miguel whips around to face an elderly man with a questioned look on his face.
Single Father!Miguel who realizes that it's your father standing in front of him, spare key in hand. He's quick to say no (to your father's disappointment), and introduces himself as your superior. Your father invites Miguel inside your apartment, telling him that you were out fetching groceries and jokingly mentions he uses this opportunity to sneakily fill your cabinets and fridge of food. Your father complains you're too independent for your own good, but he can't exactly blame you—you grew up that way.
Single Father!Miguel who learns that once in your life you were just like his daughter and that in one point in your father's life, he was just like Miguel. All details shared from him, he learns that your mother passed away early in your life due to cancer and ultimately left you and your father to fend for yourselves. Your father tells Miguel that you often had helped out even when you didn't need to—and it doesn't take long for Miguel to piece the pieces together. Why you barely complain about the extra workload, why your father said you're too autonomous, and why all those years ago you not only sympathized with Miguel, but understood his situation as you came from the same exact upbringing.
Single Father!Miguel who listens intently when your father quietly tells him that all he wants for you is to find a good man that would be able to take care of you properly because he believes he wasn't able to. Miguel is quick to reassure him, however, that he did a fantastic job raising a selfless, humble woman that grew to be compassionate and considerate of others' needs, that you were the hardest worker he had ever seen and that he shouldn't discredit himself. Your father goes to examine Miguel for a moment before letting out a loud, haughty laugh in your apartment and jokingly (not really) tells Miguel he hopes that you'll marry him one day, or at least someone like him.
Single Father!Miguel whose resolve dissipates when you walk into your apartment to find your boss and your father talking amongst each other. He sits silently and awkwardly as you complain to your father about dropping by without any warning before you ask him what was he doing here in the first place. Your father takes his leave, winking at Miguel with a glint in his eye, leaving you two in your apartment alone.
Single Father!Miguel who finally gathers up the courage to ask you if you'd like to attend Gabriella's soccer game with him. You interject with visible hesitation, telling him that it was implied that it was a family-only event and you'd hate to intrude onto something so intimate, but he's quick to reassure you that his daughter would love to have you there considering all the help you had given her during her practices—if anything, she would need you there for your support.
Single Father!Miguel who tells you that Gabriella had shown visible distress last night when Miguel told her that you might not be able to come due to your non-familial relationship with them. He almost begged you to come with them, as Gabriella had even threatened to quit soccer altogether if you weren't there to witness her first game. When you give in after moments of contemplation, Miguel truly couldn't believe his luck.
Single Father!Miguel who roots alongside you for Gabriella and her team, watching oh so closely just in case someone from the other team did a dirty trick on his precious daughter. He'd sometimes occasionally glance at you, only to see you completely zoned in and focused on Gabriella's playing like the rest of the parents, offering your support through compliments and encouragements that his daughter always caught and would visibly improve from. When she finally scores the winning goal per usual, she's quick to ignore the cheers coming from her teammates and parents to run off the field and not look for Miguel first, but for you.
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"Did you see me?!" Gabriella exclaims excitedly as she flings her arms around your waist. "Did you see what I did?!"
"I did, yes," you laugh, attempting not to stumble over from the impact with visible glee and crouch down to her height. Pride written all over your face, you grin. "And I'm so incredibly proud of you."
"It's 'cause I did what you taught me," she declares. "I pointed first and then I shooted!" She uses hand gestures to reanimate her play on the field.
"Shot, Gabi," you correctly gently, your fingers going to automatically comb out the tangles out of her hair like you usually did after practices. "It does come handy, doesn't it?"
"Yeah!" Her eyes go to see Miguel, who doesn't stalk too far behind with open arms and the same proud look painted on his face. "Dad! Didja see me?! Didja see that I scored?!"
Miguel lets out a once-in-a-blue-moon chuckle and lifts his daughter into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck in an affirming hug. "I saw very clearly, mi cariño, and I can't wait to brag about how my daughter scored the winning shot for her team," he compliments warmly.
Gabriella goes to point gleefully in your direction. "It was all because of Miss. (Y/N)," she declares, not knowing that her statement would make a rush of heat bloom onto your face.
"O-oh no... I only... w-well," you stammer out meekly, trying to find the right words. "I'm actually not too knowledgeable on soccer... I only repeated what I found online and—"
"Thank you," Miguel starts off fondly. "(Y/N), truly. Thank you."
You stare at him. "Mr. O'Hara..."
He sets Gabriella down for her to join her rejoicing teammate and pats the small of your back with a grateful look plastered on his face. You were so used to seeing the rather stoic and often tired side of Miguel O'Hara that you forgot he, too, was capable of smiling at times, so when you spotted the small of a grin on his lips that was for you specifically, you felt something in your chest jerk a little bit.
"If it weren't for you being here," he starts off quietly so only you can hear. "Gabi wouldn't have participated at all. She wanted you to come so she'd have enough courage to play because she was so used to you supporting her," Miguel glances at his daughter giggling about on the field. "So it was understandable that if her biggest supporter wasn't here to cheer her on, she wouldn't exactly do her best."
You blink slowly at him, digesting his words in order to truly savor them for all that they were. "I was just—"
"—doing your job?" Miguel finishes for you. He shakes his head. "Last time I remember, 'attending your boss's daughter's soccer games' wasn't on your job description," he says, earning a soft chuckle out of you despite his rather flat tone.
"I suppose so," you murmur with an evident warmth in your eyes, one that Miguel is sure Gabriella has seen numerous times and will continue to welcome as long as you're around.
So when after a dinner celebration at her favorite restaurant, after the star player is tucked into bed after a long day's work, Miguel takes it upon himself to do the what he thought was the impossible for him but possible for Gabriella.
"Stay safe out there," Miguel directs quietly as he helps you put on your coat again. "And again, thank you for today."
"It was my pleasure, Mr. O'Hara," you reply, "And I actually had fun today, so I can thank you for that."
He escorts you down the apartment complex to the lobby and begins to watch you leave, the words on his tongue tipping ever so slowly before they spill the moment you're about to exit through the doors.
"(Y/N)."
At the sound of your voice, you turn to him with a questioning look on your face. "... yes?"
Miguel opens and closes his mouth like a fish for a couple of seconds before blurting out, "Are you free tomorrow evening?"
He scans your face for a reaction before surprise paints itself on your moonlit features. "I-I suppose I am," you nod slowly. "May I ask why?"
"Gabi is having a sleepover at one of her teammate's house," Miguel coughs out and shoves his hands into his pockets to hide their fidgeting.
"Do you need me to drop her off...?" you ask, clearly puzzled.
"No, um," he clears his throat again. "I was... I was actually wondering if you'd... if you'd like to check out that new restaurant that opened up on Clark..."
Regret pools in his mouth the second it falls from his lips and he begins to internally conjure some sort of half-assed lie, perhaps saying something along the lines of the company wanted him to review it for a potential cater in the future or that a friend of his worked there, but when he sights your eyes softening with the same warmth from earlier, he lets you take the reigns on fate.
"I'd quite like that," you murmur, a modest smile on your lips.
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a/n ; i told you i was going to give into temptation. wrote this on a plane with no wifi on the way here (thank god for offline editing!)
anyways, i'm trying to squeeze this bit out before my plane ride tmrw since i've been travelling for the past week and a half! i'll be returning home soon where i can finally write to my heart's content, phew! i just reallyyyyy wanted to write something for miguel adjdjfkfalwf but fear not! we shall be back to our regularly scheduled program soon!
as always, thank you for reading and likes+comments+reblogs are always appreciated and never unnoticed(╹◡╹)♡!
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