1: the confession // series m.list
note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3
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fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston
//
The library is your favourite place.
At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better.
You won’t have it this time.
No way. You have so much work to do!
"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter.
“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!”
“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”
“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”
“But then what if I need to throw up—”
“Then throw up.”
“... Jungkook will be there!”
You blink at him.
“So?”
Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”
His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming.
Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.
“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy.
Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”
Your eyes widen.
In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”
“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”
“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion.
Hobi rolls his eyes at you.
“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”
Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail.
He’s right.
You are dense.
But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?
“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”
“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you.
“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"
Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction.
“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”
“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly.
You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted.
Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you.
He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…
Wow…
“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.
“... H-hi.”
He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”
Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”
Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”
“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”
Hesitantly, you shake your head.
“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm.
If piss drunk, please return to ___.
(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3
Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back.
“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”
Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi.
“She doesn’t wanna go.”
Hobi groans.
“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”
“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."
He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”
Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out.
If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook
(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3
(xxx) xxx-xxxx
For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number.
“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks.
“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”
“What? Why?”
Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”
Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”
You laugh.
“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”
Hobi turns to Jungkook.
Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”
With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you.
“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”
Your body stiffens.
“Do what?”
Jungkook eyes your chair distance.
“You moved away.”
What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch.
“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”
“I’m moving closer to you.”
“Why?”
“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”
“N-no!”
Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”
“N-no…”
“Now you do.”
For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?
Oh god.
“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?
“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone.
You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”
Jungkook doesn’t hear you well.
“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”
You stay silent and contemplate.
Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—
“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”
Then, you blurt it out.
“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.”
Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath.
He doesn’t deny it.
“I do have a crush on you.”
Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?
“W-what? You can’t j-just—”
Jungkook tilts his head and pouts.
“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs.
You hit his chest.
“This isn’t funny!”
“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”
“Hey! I like it here.”
“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”
“I… I thought you wanted to study.”
Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”
“... To study!”
“To be with you.”
You shut up.
No words, no thoughts, no feelings.
Okay…
Feelings. Lots of them.
“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."
You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you.
“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."
You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!
And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—
"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"
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𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐡𝐞𝐦
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. a lot of words.
fic masterlist previous part pt eight next part
violence + blood + injuries; making out; suggestive content; my god whew — miguel’s hand raises to…what? you don’t know, because the spider society’s alarm bell is ringing. mayhem, fire, fights…masked men. you only want to help. when miguel confronts you about your ‘help’ clearly displaying anger and well…worry, something unexpected happens…you both getting as close as you did before…maybe closer?
You’re still staring at Miguel, staying close. Closer than you probably should be. And just as his hand reaches up to…to what? What was he going to do?
Because now the alarms are sounding. Followed by the cries of spider-people. You quickly whip your head to the door. And at first Miguel doesn’t look away from you. As if the word ‘emergency’ isn’t registering in his brain. No. He keeps his eyes on you, his lifted hand having to drop away as you rush to the door.
Miguel clenched his jaw, cursing the whole idea of having an ‘emergency bell’.
You’ve reached the door and then the hallway seeing mayhem. Everyone is running (or more so webbing) around, as a fire had started in the centre.
Miguel is soon joining you, just as you spot Miles and Hobie running up. “There you are, mate.” Hobie sighs in relief, grabbing your shoulders as he goes to move you.
“Wh-“ You look around. “What’s going on?”
Miguel narrows his eyes on Hobie’s hands. He knows now’s really not the time to feel petty, but part of him wants to break his ringed fingers. Hobie moves you with him further down the hallway. “If they recognise ya, they’ll wanna kill ya, luv. So, let’s maybe go…ay?”
Your eyes widen. “Kill?! What? Why?”
Miles is hot on both your heels. Miguel not far behind him. Then Miguel notices Miles, brows slightly furrowing. “Why are you here?” He asks, making Miles glance back.
“Uh…I was invited.” He says slowly.
“Uh huh.” He eyed the kid. “By who? Gwen?”
Miles gulps at the look Miguel is giving him. “Yeah…”
“Mm.” Miguel hums, looking distasteful as he walks past Miles, catching up to you and Hobie. “Now we’re letting anyone in?” He mutters to himself with a small scoff.
“Hobie, what happened?” You ask, as he continues to move you, his grip staying on your shoulders. He brings you to the tech room, it appearing empty. You look behind you at the way you came. “I didn’t know you could get here through there.” You mutter.
“Lyla.” You hear Miguel say, her appearing by his shoulder. “What is this?” Though the look Miguel is displaying makes you feel as though he already knows.
“An attack on HQ.” Lyla says, beginning to tap away at her little screens.
“Okay, there are way too many of them.” You hear Pav say, running into the room.
“We held them off as much as we could.” Gwen is close behind. “But their strong. Like freaky strong.”
“Y/n!” Pav exclaims, bringing you in for a hug.
“Oh—“ You weren’t expecting the hug, everything happening so fast, as you slowly pat his back.
“Where were you?” He sounds concerned.
“I was just…” you drift off, licking your lips. “Gwen, whose really strong?” You quickly look to her.
“You remember the men who attacked last time? The one’s with the masks?” Gwen asks, to which you slowly nod, catching on.
“They’re back?” You ask. Gwen nods.
“But they look different.” Gwen’s says—her having seen the ones who attacked you and the tech room when they were in pools of their own blood, curtesy of Miguel. “They’re…”
“Bigger.” You mutter, picturing the masked men that were in Miles’ universe. “Better suits? Strangely taller?” You ask her.
“Yeah…”
“They’ve upgraded.” You mutter.
“Which means they aren’t here for a tiny thief job.” Miguel says, walking past you all to one of the only computers that didn’t get smashed. He pauses though, licking his teeth, as he mutters rather quietly. “Does anyone know the password?”
You hold back your amused smile, as you walk up to the computer. You lean down, tapping at the keyboard. The screen glitches a little, but for the most part it works.
“You’re looking for the security cameras right?” You ask Miguel, still staring at the screen. Lyla was clearly too busy to compute it, so you tap at more keys, bringing up roughly twenty different security camera images.
You zoom in on the middle three, displaying the fire and the masked men. Miguel leans over the desk beside you, staring at the screen. “They started the fire by smashing the tech there.” You point to a far spot on the screen, noticing the destroyed screens and machines.
Everyone had begun to surround the computer. “Why do they want to destroy tech?” Pav ask, as you shift your gaze to Miguel.
His gaze is focused on the screen, and more specifically on one specific ‘masked man’ . You narrowed your gaze on him. Where had he gone earlier? Has he met this guy? How does he recognise him? They all look the same to you.
Green woven—now metal—suits, but still those handmade masks…except now with added metal elements scattered randomly. “Miguel.” You say, making him shift his gaze to you.
You tilt your head, silently communicating that you know somethings up. The raise of your brows asks him why he isn’t voicing anything.
Miguel’s teeth are grinding as he stares at you, silently communicating back. You narrow your eyes upon understanding his expression as one showing he’s not going to voice anything. If he doesn’t have to anyway.
Hobie stares at you two for a moment, blinking. “Can you two read each others minds now? Is that what we’ve been missin’?”
You shift your gaze to Hobie, who’s standing, arms crossed. Then a rather loud scream makes all your heads whip to the computer. A masked man is holding up a spider-person by the throat. But what makes you want to puke is the way his claw is beginning to stab into the spiders chest and running down, tearing skin and other bodily flesh.
Hobie, Gwen, Pav, and Miles are quick, rushing out of the room and assumably to the lobby, where the guy’s screams are easily heard. Other spider-people are trying to fight back, but the masked men seem to be knocking them down a little too easily. How are they doing that so easily?
You swiftly turn your gaze to the screen, eyes darting, as your chest heaved. “One of them took it, Miguel.” Lyla says, making you shift your gaze to him.
He’s moving away, most likely to get to the action to help as well. He meets your gaze. “Don’t you dare move.” He warns, before he’s slipping through the secret entry.
What did Lyla say? One of the masked men took what? You look back to the computer, wincing every time a spider-person got hit. Hard. You take note of one guy, his hits extra painful to watch—the one Miguel was staring at. You wanted to help. You wished you could help.
Then you hear the shuffle of metal making you spin. But your heart slows upon seeing Peter and Mayday. Wait…mayday?!
You rush forward, seeing Peter’s frantic expression. “Y/n, Thank god. I didn’t—I didn’t know what to do.” He gesturing to Mayday.
“Peter why is she here?!” You’re extremely worried.
“I didn’t know an attack was gonna happen! I would have left her home.” He’s looking behind him, clearly knowing he has to help, but still holding tightly onto an unbothered, babbling Mayday.
You quickly grab her, pulling her into your arms. “Go.” You say. “They need you out there. Go.”
Peter looks hesitant, and you understand why. “I’ll hide.” You say, knowing he’s skeptical because you’re well…human and could barely fight back against those men. Especially if spider variants are getting knocked out.
“They won’t find me. They won’t find her.” You hold Mayday close to you, as she rests her head on your shoulder, her smile still present.
Then Peter is nodding. He trusts you. He knows you’re not one to be stupid. “Go.” You say again, and he moves, rushing out towards the action.
Your heart is beating on overdrive. Holding Mayday tightly, you turned back to the screen. None of your friends were knocked out, injured or…dead. But just as you go to find somewhere to hide—as you had promised, you noticed something.
A small machine, with a switch, it’s almost unseeable through the screen, but you catch it. That isn’t the spider-society’s tech. That’s from the masked men.
No. It suddenly clicks. Why all the spider-people were getting knocked out easy, why they could never sense when a masked man was l close. It was as if someone switched off their spider-sense and strength.
You felt Mayday lean away, using her own spider webs to attach to a farther desk, yanking you along the ground. “Mayday.” You hold her back. Now was not the time. Why did Peter give her her own webs?
You rip the web, pulling her back. “Mayday.” You say making your look at you, hair curling around her face. “You have to stay still. Okay? Just stay in my arms. Then how bout we play a game after?”
Her face lights up. You’d played these games with her, the main two being learning fun handshakes, and the other was hide and seek. “Alright?” You ask gently. She excitedly jumps in your arms. “You gotta stay still, though.” She stills, wrapping her arms around your neck.
You sigh, turning back to the screen. You can spot Gwen looking confused, clearly feeling the effects of not having a spider-sense. Then you spot Miguel. He seems unaffected by the change, noticing the masked men a lot quicker than the other spider people. Then you shift your gaze back to the switch.
The spider variants didn’t know. Shit, shit, shit. You had said you’d hide, to keep Mayday safe. But you can’t just do…nothing. Then you decide something incredibly stupid, like beyond a seeable level of stupid that could turn out terribly.
But you had to try. Because they weren’t winning out there. You pull Mayday away, making sure she caught your gaze. “Okay, Mayday…we’re gonna a play a game now. How’s that?”
She nods quickly, clapping her hands. “Alright…you remember hide and seek?”
She again nods at you, slightly playing with your hair. “I’m gonna count. And you’re gonna hide. Somewhere good. Really good.”
She begins to try and get out for yours arms, eager to play. “Mayday. Find somewhere really good.” She’d always been very good at choosing a hard hiding place. It always took you forever to find her. And you were counting on that.
Then you reluctantly let her go. You wouldn’t be long. You wouldn’t be. “One…” you pretend to cover your eyes, as you watch her waddle away through the cracks between your fingers.
You were stressed. This plan couldn’t go wrong. You wouldn’t let it. “Two…”
You were gonna reach that switch. “Three…”
And now you can’t see Mayday, knowing what direction she ran in, and roughly where she had hid, so that you could rush back to her. You had to be quick.
You ran towards the secret exit, grabbing a loose pipe. You’d rather go out there with a weapon. Loud sounds reach your eardrums when you made it outside the room, but you continued to run.
You couldn’t slow, or take your time. You rushed past spiders, thankful none are noticing you. Just stay unnoticed—you keep repeating to yourself. You reached the middle of the mayhem. And god was it hectic.
You couldn’t let Peter see you. You couldn’t let Miguel see you. You couldn’t let any of them see you. It’s as if you never came here. You ran, skirting past broken tables and machines.
Everything felt hot, the fire still partially there. You held back a scream as a tumbling, fighting duo nearly barrelled into you—it managed to knock away your pipe, but you couldn’t stop to dwell. The switch, the switch, the switch.
You slid to your knees, rushing under a table. You’ve almost gotten punched, and you’re sure a cut is bleeding. But you run, you can now see the switch, and also your friends. They look terrible.
You grit your teeth moving quicker. You’re so close. And just as you think relief is near, a body hits you, knocking you down. You wince, looking up to see a masked man. He tilts his head, blood coating his entire claw along with his suit.
You shuffle back along the floor, trying to get to your feet. But his boot comes down onto your chest, making you wheeze. “Aren’t you that chick who got away?”
“Different chick.” You wheeze out, scrabbling to get his foot off you.
“Nah, I remember the poster they put up in the lab. Your face is recognisable.” He presses harder against your chest. Your hand scrambles to the side, against the dirty floor. Find something. Anything.
Your hand finally clasps around a loose peice of metal. You tighten your hold, the sharpness cutting your palm. You swing your arm across, stabbing it into the guy’s calf.
It goes in deep, resulting in him lessening his boots hold. You manage to roll away, swiftly getting to your feet. He goes to lunge for you again, but your arm shoots out in a punch, right across his face. He stumbles slightly back.
But you seem to be more hurt then him. “Mother fu—“ you hiss, holding your now bruised knuckles. “Shit…why did I do that?” You mutter to yourself.
But you try not to dwell on the pain as you run past him and the others, finally reaching the switch. One hand is bloody while the other is bruised and you’ve never felt more relieved. You push the switch, a small whirring sound reaching your ears.
Then suddenly you catch sight of all the spider-people’s spider-senses turning back on, practically animated. But your relieved smile drops as practically all the masked men shift there gaze to you. Shit.
With all the turned heads, you catch Hobie’s turn as well. His spider-sense now taking note of you. His eyes widen in a mix of confusion, worry and anger? Wow you’ve never really seen him angry before.
Miguel takes note of you now as well now, as you shift your gaze to him, pressing your lips together as you breathe through your nose. Miguel’s expression is downright terrifying. You watch as he snaps one the masked men’s necks as he moves towards you.
You gulp, noticing some of the masked men move to you as well. You swiftly grab the small switch machine, and begin to back out of the room, or at least try to.
And just as a claw reaches for your face, an orange web yanks you aside, nearly making you tumble, but a tight hand wraps around your upper arm. “What the fuck are doing here?” Miguel lowly hisses out.
“Miguel— I have to go.” Mayday. You had to get to Mayday.
“No, no you can’t just go anywhere. You were already practically an enemy to these guy, but oh now they want to kill you.” He says this while slicing his claws across one of the guys throats—having tilted his head back to display the guys bare neck.
“Miguel.” You hiss. “Let go. I have to go.” You rush these words out.
But Miguel didn’t want to let go. You were bleeding, bruised, and almost dead. “Why didn’t you stay put? Why didn’t you stay goddamn put?” He growls.
You’re breathing hard. You had to go, and you didn’t have the time to explain. So you do the best thing you can think of. “I’m sorry about this...”
Your hand had reached for something on the a table, a plate, another peice of metal, whatever it was you knock it across his face. Not to cut, or harm, just so that his grip would loosen around your arm.
And it does, leaving you room to run. And god did you run—fast. You skirted past fighting people, the spider variants finally knocking some of the masked men down, now that the switch was off.
You reached the secret entrance, rushing into the tech room. You kept the switch machine close to you as you rushed to Mayday’s hiding place. You tried to slow your breathing, not wanting to freak her out. You wiped your bloody hand on your pants, wincing as your cut rubs against the material.
You didn’t want to scare her.
You reach the small cupboard type thing, having to lift yourself up. She had clearly webbed herself towards it. But with you being taller than her you managed. You took a breath. Pretending that you had been playing the entire time.
“Oh, Mayday.” You sing songed quietly. “I wonder where you are?”
You neared the closed cupboard door, hearing a faint giggle. You sigh in relief at the fact that she’s still here. You whip the doors open and you hear a small squeak. You scoop her up.
“Found you.” You said softly, earning now huffing giggles from her. She was okay. She was okay.
But then your heart drops. You hear heavy scuffing boots enter the room. No. Please no. Without thinking you rush into the cupboard, shutting the door.
Mayday begins to babble on about something, but you put her head into your neck. “Shh.” You shakily whisper. “Shh.” You stroke her hair. She moves a little, but luckily she begins to relax in your arms.
You can hear the taunting boots near. And you hold your hand over your mouth, quieting your heavy breathing. Please stay quiet Mayday, please stay quiet—you think to yourself, holding her closer to you, as you slide to the floor of the cupboard. It only just fit you both.
Then the door is getting harshly pulled open and your eyes widen. No, no, no. But then just as the masked man comes into view, his body is getting harshly lifted, his feet raising as blood bleeds out from his stomach. Your eyes widen.
Then he falls to the side, revealing a heaving Miguel. Your head knocks back against the cupboard back wall, as you hold Mayday tighter to you. You couldn’t let her see. Any of the blood, you wouldn’t let her see.
Miguel meets your gaze, just as Hobie, Pav, Gwen, Miles and Peter rush to a stop beside him, all staring into the cupboard.
You begin to shakily stand, still holding onto Mayday for dear life. You were scared. Your adrenaline slowly disappearing.
Peter rushes forward taking Mayday from you. He notices there isn’t a scratch on her and Peter is beyond relieved. “Make sure she doesn’t…see.” You say, sounding somewhat out of it as you blink, so your eyes would stay open.
Then Hobie is slipping his arm around your midriff, supporting your legs, as you gulped down arising tears. You wouldn’t cry. Not in front of everyone.
“What the hell was that?” For once there is no joke in Hobie’s tone.
Your eyes a blurring, but you wanted to stay awake. You hated how much your body could exhaust. “You were supposed to stay up here.” Miguel is saying, his breathing still heavy.
You know that you arriving back to the tech room, alerted that now dead masked man of where you were.
For once Miguel doesn’t mind that Hobie is holding you. He’s helping you. And though Miguel would rather help you, his hands are covered in blood—Hobie having used his surroundings and web to mainly fight them, his hands being rather clean from the red.
You half heartedly chuckle. “You can just say thanks.” You meet his gaze, a small smile edging your lips.
“Are they…” You drift off, Gwen filling in.
“They left. They aren’t dead. Some of them are. But the others…left.” She says, making you nod.
“Thank god.” You mutter out, the pain finally feeling like it can catch up to you. “And fuck…” You slightly push off of Hobie, shaking your bruised hand. “When were any of you gonna tell me that punching someone really fuckin’ hurts.”
“Well, usually punching someone with a metal head tends to hurt.” Pav says, raising his brows slightly.
“Eh.” You chuckle, continuing to flex your hand.
;;
Miguel didn’t leave your side when you went to medical, you getting stitched, and mended.
“Don’t sleep in here.” He says, gazing around at practically every spider person. The medical was of course packed.
“But the fire reached my room—“
“Not mine.” Miguel says, already slipping his arms around your body—though he keeps his hands, for the majority, off of you. His hands were still covered in blood, though dry, meaning the blood wouldn’t taint you, he still couldn’t.
“That’s fine—“
“Shut up, and move.” Miguel wasn’t looking for your acceptance, taking you to his room.
;;
Once inside, he shuts the door, leading you to sit on his bed. As you did, he had slightly begun to pace the length of his room.
“What are you doing?” You ask, watching his stressful state. “Can you stop?”
He shifts his gaze to you, semi stopping. His body was still tense, his jaw clenched. “Sit.” You say, gesturing to the chair. You narrow your gaze until he obeys, moving the chair to face you, as he took a seat.
Glass still slightly littered the ground, the slight scratch marks on the chair staying easily visible.
You noticed for a moment that he couldn’t look at you. His gaze instead getting caught up with his wrist. You glanced down at it, noticing a thin…bracelet? It was covered in blood, and he had begin to fiddle with it, making your brows furrow.
“What’s that?” You ask. But he still doesn’t meet your gaze, clenching his hand into a fist.
“Nothing.” He says. But it wasn’t nothing of course. It was your bracelet, the one he had found in your rooms doorway, back in your universe when you had went missing.
“I didn’t know you were one to wear jewellery.” You speak light heartedly. But he barely reacts. “Miguel.” You say, sighing. “Can you at least look at me?”
And it’s the slight sadness in your voice that makes him. He looks up and you’re shocked to see a million different emotions swirling in his eyes.
“Why did you do that?” He asks, now not looking away from your eyes.
“What?”
“That.” He hisses lowly. “You were supposed to stay in the tech room.”
“Miguel you do realise that I couldn’t have just stood there and literally watched…right?” You ask, seeing his gaze flicker everywhere on your face. “I saw something important, and thought i should help.”
“But you shouldn’t have.” He says.
“Yes, I should have…” You stand up now. Miguel moves to stand also, but you hold your hand out, making sure he stayed seated. “I want to help Miguel. I want to be of help.”
“Yeah, well you being of help nearly got you killed.” He snarls.
“Exactly the same as all of you.” You say, stepping closer to his seated self. “You guys go through so much dangerous stuff all the time. And finally when I can actually help you hate me for it.”
“Because you’re—“
“A weak human, yeah I got it. But I wanted to help. And It worked…none of you guys are dead!” You exclaim, breathing heavy.
Miguel stares up at you, his breathing close to matching yours.
“That is all I’ve ever wanted to do, Miguel.” You say. “Help.”
“You almost died out there.” His voice had begun to soften.
“And so did you!” Yours hasn’t yet, though.
He couldn’t resist. Slipping his hand under your thigh he pulled you towards him, making your body tumble. He caught you by a second grip on your other thigh, making sure you landed in a straddle over his lap. His legs were still a fraction spread, which made yours naturally spread further around him. This satisfied Miguel’s want to keep those legs spread. Wide and open for him.
He pulled you even closer, your body sliding along his thighs, right up against him. Your heart was beating like a drum in your ears. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was breathe and stare. Stare at Miguel’s piercing red eyes that now practically told you everything he hadn’t voiced yet.
Miguel stared at you, his eyes seeming to hood over on their own. You were yet again, so close. He could taste your breath. And he wanted to. God did he want to.
He’s sure it would taste so sweet. You would taste so fucking sweet. His clawed hands stayed wrapped around your thighs, as he began to lean in, his eyes focused on your freshly wet lips, your nervous habit. You were nervous. He met your gaze once more, before darting his eyes down again. He couldn’t stop leaning in.
Your heart has stopped, having been beating rapidly in your ears. You want to gulp down your nervousness but Miguel is now so close to your neck.
His warm breath fans over your skin as his mouth opens a fraction. His hands ran up your body, to grip around your waist. Then he leaned in, his lips attaching to the side of your neck. You heard him hum, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.
His hands begun to slip under your shirt, the feel of your bare skin making him go practically insane. He couldn’t believe it. He began to slowly litter small kisses—at first—his breathing growing heavier and heavier.
Your chest was heaving as he pulled you tighter to him, his lips now pressing harder against your skin. When they turned open-mouthed you could feel the drag of his fangs, his tongue coming down to soothe forming bruises.
Your head had begun to roll back, your hands tightly gripped onto Miguel’s shoulders. “I couldn’t let you die, cariño.” He whisper-groaned into your neck. His panting breath only occasionally felt, because he couldn’t back away from your skin.
His kisses began to lead up to your jaw. You were flushed, your body hot, everywhere. “Miguel—“ you breathe out.
“Shh, I just wanna…I just…” but he couldn’t even finish the sentence as he reached to hover over your lips. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his claws embedding themselves into your hair, as his other hand tightened a fraction around your waist.
Now you’re breathing hard, your eyes slightly glazed over, your mind utterly dazed as you stared at Miguel. “I just want to…”
You gulp. “Want to what?” You quietly asked, your own eyes flickering to his lips.
“I— carajo.” Was the last word he managed before his lips found yours, your head knocking back. Miguel wrapped his lips around your bottom, breathy groans easily escaping him, as he pulled you impossibly closer. His heart was beating on overdrive, nearly at a concerning tempo as he lapped at your mouth.
And god did you taste sweet. So fucking sweet. And he gets to feel you—have you. He doesn’t have a care in the world as long as you stayed this close. Right against him letting him keep you this close. Your tongue dragged across his bottom lip, soon finding his tongue. His head moved to push further against yours, as he swirled his tongue around your mouth.
Then your body slightly jolts. His hand that was gripping your waist had tightened to a point that his claws had cut you a fraction. Miguel immediately let your waist go, realising that his body’s reaction—tightening around you, was to make sure you wouldn’t leave. “I’m—“
But you’re cutting him off with another kiss, slightly raising on your knees, so that his head had to tilt up to stay kissing you. His hands slipped to wrap around your raised thighs. “Tell me you weren’t gonna apologise.” You spoke to his lips, leaning away a fraction.
But Miguel eagerly chased your mouth, managing to pull your head back down, with a swift grip to your hair. “Miguel—“
He shook his head, his lips brushing against yours. “If I say no, will you keep kissing me?” He tilted his head, lips still lightly brushing yours, as his tongue came out to lick your top lip. “Mm?”
“Yea—“ but Miguel cuts you off, kissing you hard as one of his hands stoked up and down your thigh. “Then I’m not sorry at all.” He muttered between kisses. He was addicted. That’s the simplest way to put it. Utterly addicted. “Dios…I’m not sorry.”
Your hands slipped around his neck, beginning to play with the ends of his brown hair, your fingers soon sinking to softly grip the strands. A breathy moan escapes Miguel’s lips at the feeling of your fingers, his mouth opening against your own. A small forming smile edged your lips at the reaction.
“Shut up.” He whispered, smashing his lips back to yours. His kisses had grown even more heated—if possible—spreading across your cheek, his nose brushing against your hair. “Dios, y/n, can I touch you…mm por favor…?” He asks, trying to pull your thighs back down onto him.
But you held your own, staying just out of reach—legs either side of him on the chair. When Miguel would much rather you pressed against him. Of course he was hard, aching almost painfully. “Y/n.” He lowly growled out.
You grabbed his chin, lifting his head up, as you teasingly pecked his lips. “I’ve never seen you beg, give me a moment to enjoy it.”
Miguel clenched his jaw as he harshly pulled your thighs further apart, making you gasp, landing right on top of him. He moved his hands to your hips, keeping you still, as his head slightly leant back at the feeling. “Mm…that’s it…” He whispered out.
You could feel his bulge right under you, making your core ache. Now you felt hot. And as you looked at a breathless Miguel, his chest heaving mismatched you couldn’t help but begin to slightly move your hips.
Miguel’s breathing hitches, his hands gripping your waist. “Y/n…”
“Shh.” You partially mocked, earning a small growl from Miguel. “Didn’t you say I had to do anything for you?” You moved your hips along him, grinding torturously. “This seems like it would certainly help.” Your tone is breathy, as your hips movements sends jolts through you both.
“For a…mission.” Miguel remembers the start of the deal—the conversation—correcting you, through heavy breaths. God, what were you doing…keep doing it.
“Which loosely means for you.” You copy his previous words.
His head slightly falls back. “Mierda, cariño…”
You go to place your hands on his chest, when his head comes back up, his grip slipping from your waist to your hips and managing to stop you. He leans towards your ear. “But do you really think I’m gonna let you grind on me like that? Make me pathetically reach my high with clothes…still on?”
Your breathing hitches. His hand reaches up your shirt again, but pauses by the side of your waist. Then before you know it, Miguel’s holding your thighs—wrapped around him—as he stands. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck thinking you would fall.
Miguel chuckles at the reaction, instead, effortlessly walking with you towards his bed. He leans forward, resting you down as his hands came to cage you in. You’re resting on your elbows, pushing a little higher up. Miguel leans even more forward, so that you’re forced to lean back with him.
“Lie back…eso es (that’s it)…that’s ma’ girl.” Miguel breathes, as your head rests back against his sheets. My girl. His girl. All of Miguel’s previous loud voices, the ones that had quietened when you hugged him have become one. Repeating the words—my girl, my girl, my girl.
my god, that was a trip. and finallyyyy! AHHH — I hope this is what you guys expected and hope you all liked it
I promise promise promise, I will carry on this smut on the next part <33 it was just getting so long—I couldn’t stop writing (I’m sorry guys I gotta keep eedging ya)
plus since it’s the last part (part 9) next, everything will be concluded, and all mysteries solved! coz that’s just plain cruel if I utterly leave you guys hanging
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