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diejager · 10 months

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Bittersweet Devotion pt.2

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Cw: angst, heartbreak, mention of cheating, mention of death, no happy ending, apology, tell me if I missed any. wc: 9.3k

Your universe, Earth-XXX, was a parallel one to Earth-616 in some sense. You had a Peter Parker, a Gwen Stacy and a Mary Jane Watson, it had everything down to the death of Ben Parker and the devastation it brought to your friend. It was the same year as Spider-Man 616’s world, it had the same political standing and same history. Your world, like many others, was a near carbon copy of 616, down to the smallest things; but like others in the spiderverse, you had differences. Some were minor changes in the course of its canon story, others were major changes in the characters and the era.

You - like Miguel, Miles, Jess, Hobart (he liked going by Hobie), Patrick and Patriv - were one of those major deviations in the original canon. You didn’t exist - or so you thought - in Peter B. or Peter’s universe even though you lived in the same year. The reason might be that in the reality, the sum of all potential universes that paralleled each other, created the multiverse - the Spiderverse.

The concept of it seemed strangely unlimited, the infinite possibilities to a different ending or a different start for its world. The multiverse was, in some sense, as old as time, a culmination of everything made imaginable by man. Found in ancient texts - the Puranas, ancient Hindu mythology - that expressed the infinite number of universes with their gods and principles. Whereas Persian literature - tales - touched the idea of learning about alternate universes that were similar, yet distinctly different from theirs.

Misconstrued by many, the strangeness of it was deemed a danger, the unknown possibilities were feared by people of older age, but venerated in the past as it was in the present for the unfathomable possibilities. It exists in fiction, where they borrowed the idea of many worlds within a reality from myths, legends and religion. Heaven, Hell, Olympus and Valhalla were all reflections of a familiar world, a material realm for the blessed, the sinful, the gods, and the worthy. The similarities sometimes frightened you, how close the people were to knowing of the reality you all lived in. The tangibility of crossing worlds and bringing about chaos to every string, every realm, every material form of the multiverse.

They, after all, were real, Hell as much as Heaven in your universe. Gods from every religion, either monotheistic or polytheistic, some you’d personally seen are Thor and Loki, brother and sons of Odin the Allfather, and the God of Thunder and Mischief respectively. Another was a big crocodile lady, Ammit, from what you’d heard from the all-knowing Dr. Strange. From God to Norse and Egyptian gods, from angels and demons, and from humans to mutants, your plane of existence was as wide as it could go without drifting off the edge and causing a mass domino effect within the multiverse.

You were curious, naturally so for a scientist, exploring the worlds that felt familiar to you but you hadn’t truly grasped - different, yet similar. You hadn’t given a second thought to exploring yours. After all, why explore yours when your horizon was as broad as you imagined it, unperturbed by any limits when it came to the multiverse? The eternal and unlimited growing number of realms in your expanding reality.

Perhaps that was the reason why you hadn’t known your universe had its own Miguel O’Hara. You rarely came back for anything, you had everything you’ve ever wanted in Nueva York, Earth-928. You have friends who could truly understand you, people who stood beside you when you fought, youngsters who looked up to you for mentoring and a dream- or it was a dream. Dreams, not dissimilar to wishes, were hopeful, naive in a way, they came and went. Some dreams would come true, while others fell, like the fallen stars that crossed the night sky.

Yours simply happened to be a fallen one, one not meant to happen and become greater. You let it go after he dropped you, after he turned his back and let his mouth run unperturbed. He brought her up, someone he swore he would remember but left in the past. A new chance to become something, to become whole again, and Miguel took it. He wanted to start anew, fresh with someone he never met, you wanted the same; you both had what you wished for, until he put his foot down, cutting the thin web that connected both your lives.

It broke your heart. Months of patience and anxiously stepping around each other, nervous about breaking the trust freshly built between you both, lost in a few weeks. You were brittle, heart fractured and threatening to fall further apart if someone was any crueller to you. The smallest glare, the tiniest scoff or the weakest remark would send you reeling into the abyss of heartbreak and the throes of anguish. Yet somehow, you found yourself being led away by a copy of the Miguel you loved.

He mumbled apologies as he held you tightly, his arm over your shoulder as he cradled you under his umbrella, hastily urging you to follow his guidance. If it were any other person, you would’ve been wary, cautious of any strangers that touched you so closely and chaperoned you so quickly; but this was Miguel, a man you trusted and that you still trusted wherever he came from. Earth-XXX’s Miguel O’Hara was still similar to the one you knew, someone you could trust. You did.

He led you to his flat, someplace near Alchemax’s building in Manhattan, a safe neighbourhood for the richer citizens of Manhattan. A cozy place of neutral tones and muted colours, yet warm as he welcomed you - a stranger as of yet - into his home. He had machinery strewn around, reports stacked on his coffee table and smaller things he had been tinkering about decorating his home. As a geneticist, he liked to play with machinery, having drawn his designs and models, built his creations from scratch and worked from the base programming to make something better. At least Miguel from Earth-928 did, and it seemed this one did as well.

You stood in his shower, where he left you in a frenzy to bring you dry clothes, drying out your hair with the towel he motioned you to use. You doubted that he had anything your size, his broad shoulders and his towering height, nothing he had in his draws - and the boxes he stowed away in his closet - would fit you. They would drag down your ankle and sit low on your collar. Granted, you were soaked down to your socks and had no temporary clothes to cover yourself with during your stay.

You had stripped from your soaked clothes and patted down your wet skin, shivering from the cold that clung to your bones even after Miguel had increased the heater in the small confines of the bathroom. It was small but big enough to move around and stretch your arms comfortably. You hadn’t felt the cold until he brought you to his bathroom, the numbness of the past months weighing heavily on your shoulders and the bleeding of your heart made everything seem so meaningless. The colours draining from the world around you, a once bright New York turned grey, the monochrome tones of black and white mixing and interlacing to form even more boring shades.

The vibrancy and life you once saw around you dulled and died suddenly, like the winters brought by Demeter’s devastation and sadness when her daughter was taken from her, stolen from the berth of flowers she liked frolicking about. How Demeter doomed the world to see her pain, to feel how she felt in the moments her daughter had to return to her husband than stay with Demeter. You felt laden by your faults and his actions. Doubtful of your relationship, of what led you both to such an ending. Had you been clearer or more forthcoming about your emotions, or had you confronted him for his behaviour, would you still be in his arms?

Were you at fault for missing something you had relied on as comfort and safety? Could you be blamed for his reaction to your meddling in his affairs in the Society? Could you blame him for dropping those words on you? After all, being reminded or compared to a past lover was anything but gentle, the gut-wrenching envy and betrayal you felt flash through you was nearly drowning. It made you feel lacking, to be reminded of his old flame, the one he was about to marry and the person he seemed to love before all. Could you even compare to what she was; what she did? (Dina had cheated on him, you knew that, but he was truly happy in their moments of pleasure and domesticity. They were a family until she died.)

You were drowning in your self-made sorrow when his voice called you, grounding you to the room. Standing before a door, naked and shivering, arms wrapping the damp towel around your shoulders. He called again, cracking the door open to pass you the - his - clothes he thought would fit you. He coughed as you took your temporary wear, your cool fingers brushing his warm ones. It was a sudden and jerking contact, you pulled back jerkingly, a shamble of an apology and a thank you flew from your tongue. His chuckle was a reassurance in the complete quietness of the flat, his low voice reminding you of better times.

The sweater hung loosely around you, dipping down your collar to expose your shoulder. It was warm, the cotton used to make it still soft after being stored away and the soothing scent of spice and pine deeply integrated into the fibres. The pants were stretched around your hips, the tight fabric thin and flexible under stress, hidden under the long shirt. The legs, however, swayed loosely around your limbs, too big for your calves, but tight enough to hug your thighs. He had certainly made sure to bring you clothes that would fit your frame. You hadn’t attempted to smell his pants, you thought it would’ve been too intrusive and disgusting to do so if only to smell a remnant of Miguel on his as you did on the sweater.

Miguel was waiting for you in the kitchen, his back turned to you as you ambled towards him. His shoulders loose and back relaxed in the presence of a stranger made you appreciate how good-natured he was in most universes you’d been to. He turned his head, gesturing you to sit on the chair facing him on the island as he returned to something he was making while you changed.

“I hope you don’t mind hot chocolate,” he started, voice light and hopeful as he turned to you, cup in each hand as he moved to stare at you. “I’m not one for tea.” He slid the warm mug into your hand, eyes watching your expression as he slowly sipped on the hot beverage.

His eyes squinted slightly when your lips curled upwards, a smile hidden by the steaming mug. You cupped the mug, feeling the warmth of the freshly brewed drink, the steam rising in soft curls and melting in the cooler atmosphere. Tentatively, you brought the rim to your lips, slowly tilting the cup. The powerful taste of chocolate hit you strongly, the sweet and dark liquid melting the tension in your muscles until you could curl over the table with an appreciative sigh.

“Thank you…” you knew his name, wanting to call him, but his reaction would be unwanted, the shock, fear and suspicion that would fill his beautiful, brown eyes. So you slurred your words, dragging out your voice until he could tell you his name himself.

“Miguel. Miguel O’Hara, ” he nodded, cocking his head upwards, pointing at you with his chin. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Hey every time I want to call you.” His lips broke into a cheeky smile, teasing you when he saw that you’d comfortably melted into the drink and his island chair. He wanted to ease the tense atmosphere from before into something much calmer, to help the accumulated tension in your shoulders to fall like the rain that clouded the streets of New York.

You let out a hoarse chuckle, your throat still fresh from crying, and told him your name, trying to stabilise your shaking tone. His cheeky smirk tugged at your heartstrings, you hadn’t seen Miguel laugh or smile this freely in months. You missed it. The casual banter you shared and the on-and-off insults you’d hurl at one another, all good-natured insults meant to rile him.

“Thank you, Miguel,” you nearly choked when you uttered his name, the wound still so fresh and bleeding it slip from your tongue easily. It brought up so many memories, both painful and joyful. Your eyes glazed over, tears threatening to fall once again, to paint your cheeks with agony that you - him, or perhaps both of you - had brought on yourself. “Thank you…”

Miguel hummed sympathetically, eyes staring down at his drink, deep in thought. Perhaps he was thinking of a way to invite you to share your problems, to tell him why you broke down on the street in stormy weather. Or maybe he was thinking of the fastest way to kick you out, to get rid of the mess you became. The silence, however, was reassuring, calming the nerves that followed the eerie calmness of Miguel’s den or the loud, hectic atmosphere of the Society. His warm, worrying gaze grounded you, the softness behind his concerned stare was heartwarmingly nostalgic.

“Difficult breakup?” His words seemed hesitant, unsure of his conclusion to the cause of your appearance. Unknowingly, he had struck gold, pinning down the right problem in your life with a few observations. Of course, he was observant and aware of his surroundings, why else was he so willing to bring you into his home?

“How’d ya know?”

His sigh was telling, the deep, concerned and tired breath was only used when he knew that you wouldn’t tell him what ailed you, like the groan of a disappointed, yet worried father.

“Because I know how it feels,” he says slowly, pensive over his words, picking them carefully to not damage you further than your ex had. He knew the pain of a harsh breakup, the pain and sorrow that followed, like a dark cloud that hovered over you whenever you were awake.

“Why?” You croaked.

“Why?” he parroted, frowning at your question.

“Why did you invite me in? I’m a- a stranger to you, you don’t even know me. What if I’d been acting to mug you or potentially kill and steal from you? What’d you do then, Miguel?”

“I know the risks, but you didn’t, didn’t you? And wouldn’t, you don’t look like the person to harm another.”

You scoffed at his words. Didn’t and wouldn’t didn’t mean you would not do it later after gaining his trust, to stab him in the back after he helped you and nursed you. The simple, naïve idea that you didn’t look like a violent person was mind-blowing, it was stupid. How could he know if you didn’t mean harm later on? Like how Miguel never meant to harm you - he loved you - and yet in the end, he had.

“That’s naïve,” you muttered, eyes closed as you drank the cooling beverage, the sugary drink trickling down your throat.

“I’m confident in my ability to read people.”

He did seem confident in his ability, the straight back and the strong gaze in his eyes showed; and, maybe because you knew from experience that Miguel was observant and careful, he hadn’t gotten where he was by simply trusting people and following the herd. He tested and made mistakes, he learned from them each time and found a way to use it to his advantage. The Miguel you saw in every universe was similar in some ways, their good nature, their cunningness, their bravery and their intelligence. All aspects known to characterize Miguel O’Hara in all universes he existed in.

You conceded to his will, head bowed and shoulders slack. You breathed shallowly, swallowing the lump in your throat:

“Yeah, what gave it away?”

You thought it would be the last of him you’d see in your life, you wished it wouldn’t, that you’d see him over and over, to feel what the Miguel from your universe had to give, but you knew it was wishful thinking, a wish thrown to the stars. Logically, he had no reason to call or text you after exchanging numbers days prior. He promised to call you, and he made you promise to call him if anything ever resurfaced, be it pain, anger, heartbreak or hate. You, instinctively, believed his word.

You hated yourself for falling so easily to another Miguel, how you bent to his words and the sweet promises he uttered that night. There was no sign that he would keep his word, that he would see you again after your breakdown, except for his words and your belief in him. Then it wasn’t misplaced, all the trust and belief you had, since he called you, asking to meet up at a cafe. Miguel had set up a place and time for you when you replied with a croak, still feeling down. He had whispered reassuring words to you, urging you to meet him - he explicitly told you he’d feel offended to be stood up - and spend some time outside. The air was fresh and cool for an autumnal month, it wasn’t too cold that you were forced to wear a thick jacket, but it wasn’t warm enough for you to go out in a simple shirt.

You were hesitant to take him up on his offer, knowing how easily you could rebound. You’d crash into Miguel’s open arms, searching for the love and affection he fed you like a lovesick puppy, but, then again, Earth-XXX’s Miguel was similar, yet different from his variant. It would be a lie if you told yourself you didn’t miss him, the soft smiles, the gentle touches and the affectionate words. You had spent so much time as his right-hand Spider that it felt odd not seeing him the following morning. It was a routine you’d formed: waking up in his bed, kissing him good morning, getting to work together and eating together. Everything you’d done in the past years was with Miguel from Earth-928 the routine, the rigidity, it was grounding, it was the only semblance of normalcy in the world you lived in.

Now, you had to face the possibility that you were too broken to see another Miguel, to hold a casual conversation and form coherent and normal sentences. The purposefully slow steps you took to the cafe picked after having a moment outside the glass front were telling in itself. You swallowed the little amount of saliva in your throat to soothe its dryness and walked through the doors of the quaint establishment. It was painted in calm, brown tones, rustic in design with a warmth that rivalled the comfort of your bed. It lifted a bit of the tension you had, shoulders slumping slightly as your eyes searched for a familiar mop of brown hair.

Laying against the brown sofa, he stared out of the wide window from his booth. The warm, morning lights caressed his cheeks, lighting up the sharp edges of his jaw and nose. He was sculpted in perfection, like the youthful beauty of Adonis, crafted with the meticulous and attention-catching hands of an artist that created what was thought to be a god’s beauty. You could spend your days watching him, catching every little detail of Miguel’s face under the changing lighting, but you were standing near the entrance and he was waiting for you. His words echoed in your mind: “Don’t forget about next week, I miss seeing you.”

His eyes flickered to you, blinking as he turned to you, flashing a smile. You returned the sentiment, a shaky smile lifting the corners of your lips. You sat across from him, eyes wandering the cafe to stare at anything but him, lest you wouldn’t be able to stop the rush of emotions that would light your face in a flush. He uttered your name, greeting you in a friendly manner. You nodded back, muttering his name, pushing down the wince whenever you said it.

“Chocolate.”

The still-warm cup stared at you, light steam wafting over the reflective liquid. It was full, unlike Miguel’s cup, and drank down to the middle of the container.

“Thank you.”

He probably wouldn’t let you repay him for the hot chocolate he bought you, the smile he gave you told you as much when your eyes flickered between his and your cup. The hot chocolate was a reminder of your night in his flat, where he lent you his shoulder to cry and his ears to listen. Embarrassment seemed to flash whenever you recalled the memory, how vulnerable you were to him, your walls broken down and your heart open. Though, Miguel didn’t seem to mind your fragility, giving you as much time as you needed.

“How are you? I wanted to give you a few days to think before meeting again, I thought you might’ve needed the time alone.”

You nodded lamely, fingers curling around the warm porcelain, back slumped into the booth to hide from his knowing eyes. He was right, you had needed the time alone to clean yourself up, scour through your memories and tend to whatever mess you made of yourself. You were thankful. The last few days had brought revelations, how - both of - you had ignored the signs of a rupture in the relationship and continued to push on, like crossing a crumbling bridge.

“‘M doing better. How- and how are you?”

He smiled at your attempt, you were trying on your own after a few - forced - encouraging words from Miguel. Maybe you’d learn to live with the pain, coexisting with the numbness that filled you until it dulled to a point where it would be barely acknowledged by you or anyone in your vicinity - where it wasn’t painted on your face with bright colours. Or the pursuit to forget it, pushing it into the farthest corner of your mind and heart, painting over the crack with glue. As long as you wouldn’t drown in your sorrows, ending up playing with dangerous substances to stay afloat while your mind sunk deeper into addiction and denial.

He wouldn’t let you get that far, Miguel understood you and he lived through it as you did. Although his was a more violent breakup - she had cheated on him, his explosive reaction was natural - than yours, he hadn’t relied on anything but self-meditation and a lot of thinking. Like a friend - you were one by his standards, he’d invited you to his flat, you’d seen his organized chaos and ranted about your life while he comforted you with his shoulder and a cup of hot chocolate - he would stay by your side, hoping his support would be enough to help you.

“Great so far.”

His grin - somehow - grew even larger, enthusiasm gleaming in his eyes.

Oftentimes, Miguel would be the one to call you, your phone ringing in the afternoon of the day prior with his soothing voice on the other end of the line. He spoke easily, finding the time to invite you out for the simplest reason, to talk, to make a drink, to have fun, and - your favourite by far - to see you. His initiative had you trying to double your efforts to heal, reaching outside of your boundaries and texting Miguel whenever you had a moment to yourself. You felt guilty that he was always the one to plan these outings, so you promised yourself that you’d become a better friend than you currently were. You even remembered his teasing tone when you called him for the first time:

”Aye, finally. I thought you’d never call me, chica. I felt neglected, thought you had forgotten about me for a second there.”

It started with the first coffee date, bickering about who would pay, pushing your card before the other while still seated at your table, frowning stubbornly and throwing promises about letting the other pay next time. Either way, Miguel rarely let you pay, coming atop as the winner of your little fight with his strength and height (you couldn’t exactly put all your force into your push, it could break bone and bruise the skin.).

Then it would be random meetings on the streets that would lead you to a random bench at the park, basking in the other’s presence, retelling your day and him nitpicking anything he could with a ridiculously criticising frown. He was playing, you knew he was. You did the same after you’d gotten more comfortable talking to him, it became easier to see him as a different - as his own - person. A few hits on the shoulder left and right, but it was mostly laughter at ridiculous expressions made to emphasize your disdain for a certain event.

The months that followed were a blur to you. Rather than going to a cafe or the park, you went to restaurants and crashed at one of your flats, yours if he wanted to play games and lounge about with food and drinks, and his if you wanted to watch movies (he had the best television you’d ever seen, such high definition and speed.) and tinker away at his inventions and theories. He was certainly happy that his new friend was another scholar in the field of genes and engineering (you were mostly into engineering than genes, but you knew a few things that you’d found interesting.). You could both gush - scientifically - about the possibility of gene splicing and lab-generated mutations in humans, like the mutant superheroes.

You’d taken some liberties and went drinking, meeting at the same bar biweekly to relax after a few hard days at work. It served to loosen your nerves until either of you felt comfortable to chat up a storm about the most random subject. It’d been about the odd dent on the rim of his glass; then it’d be about how the sky was grey this week, there weren’t any warm, yellow rays blaring down on you when you went out; or it’d be about the distasteful cut of a man’s moustache. Drinking loosened your tongues, some words were said and some sentiments were shared, but none were truly taken seriously knowing you were tipsy - nearing drunk - those nights.

Every time you saw Miguel, you felt like you were rediscovering a part of yourself as well as him, the thing that made him so distinct and loveable. Miguel was expressive and honest, he slowly and gently let you down from whatever high you were, the pillar you needed to stand again after falling. He was so much different. It used to pain you how much they looked alike, but character-wise, they were like the two sides of a coin. It made you appreciate the delicate intricacies that made the multiverse.

You won’t - can’t - deny that you’ve grown fond of this Miguel as you did with the other one, but you couldn’t let yourself love him. He didn’t deserve someone broken and hashed into many lives: the masks you wore, the things you did, the secrets you hid, and the things you could do. He didn’t deserve someone who could bring him to his death; dying simply because he was connected to Spider-Woman; beaten simply because he knew Spider-Woman; kidnapped simply because they deemed him useful as leverage. All things that could go wrong haunt you. Miguel was human, he wasn’t a Spider, he wasn’t a superhero, and he wasn’t a vigilante. He was Miguel O’Hara, the geneticist working at Alchemax, with a brilliant mind and a kind heart.

You cherished every part of him. That’s why you can’t let your heart lead, dedicate how you’d react to Miguel after the months you spent together. He was so close, yet so far; he was touchable, you could hold him, kiss him and hug him, but he was unattainable, you couldn’t tell him how much you loved him. You watched him with hidden love, showing your affection as platonic, a friend watching another. You had hardened yourself to your heart’s cries, for loving Miguel was a dangerous game-

“I- what?” you gawked at Miguel, wide eyes and mouth agape. You were shocked at the words that left his mouth, his soft, wet lips moving as he repeated the words.

“I love you.”

His cheeks were flushed, burning a soft red, it trailed to his ears and nape. His open collar - his jacket hung on the back of his chair and his shirt clung below his collar, a skin-tight shirt that hugged his sculpted chest sinfully, it hid little to the seeing eyes of the crowd and your drunk self. His sudden words had all but sobered you, shaking you into clear lucidity of his confession.

“You… love me?”

He blinked dumbly at you for a second, as if taking the time to absorb what he told you and what you repeated. Miguel was tipsy, not drunk. He smiled and nodded, a bashfully affectionate grin on his beautiful lips.

“Yes, is it so hard to believe, chica?”

He often called you chica, you thought it was a friendly term of endearment between friends (truthfully and regretfully, you knew little of Spanish, even with being in a committed relationship with an Irish-Mexican.). You just realised it was his pet name for you. All this time, he had given you his heart, and yet, you had denied him of yours. He was more playful and less burdened by life, it made him more teasing and smiling. The term chica somewhat made sense, a cuter and more playful way of calling someone you loved than the deep-meaning ones like mi cielo and mi vida, a play of words like a small secret between you. This secret hid behind names given between friends, a well-kept one, close to his chest but gifted to you.

It might’ve once been - started - as friends, but it grew and festered in his heart until he found the time to express himself, to tell you how he truly felt for you - how he grew to care for you. He deemed this moment fine, bordering tipsy and nearing drunk, he’d be open, brutally honest but still aware of the words that left him. He wasn’t a lightweight anyway.

You wanted to tell him you also loved him, but you couldn’t do it, mouth slightly open and eyes glazed with heartbreak, you simply stared at him in hesitancy. You opened your mouth once to reply and closed it, open and close, again and again until all you could do was stare at him. How were you supposed to answer him after the bomb he dropped?

”Yes! I love you too!”

”Oh, Miguel, I love you too.”

”I- I love you as well.”

There were so many ways to express your feelings to the man who confessed, but none seemed to convey the true emotions that lay in your heart. You wanted to tell him you learned to love again thanks to him, that the time spent with him had made you open your eyes to the beauty that you were blinded by the pain and you slowly grew to care for - love - him as much as you did with Spider-Man 2099. He had the same smile, the same mind, the same heart, but he was more innocent, less burdened by disaster and happier.

So you simply nodded. It made his smirk grow.

“Aye- would it be better if I called you ‘mi tesoro’ instead? It’s more straightforward, no?”

Even now, his words were light and playful, his tone affectionate as he leaned closer to you. You could see the mischievous glint in his warm, chocolate eyes (you thought that was why he liked serving you hot chocolate, it reminded you of his eyes.) and the curve of his lips as they moved to form words. You were transfixed by his beauty, mesmerised by the comforting hues and the sharpness of his cheeks, missing how close he was to you.

“Or maybe-”

Softness caressed your lips, a plush, warm feeling that made you flush. He was kissing you, those pretty lips on yours. Your breath stuttered and you froze, but it didn’t stop Miguel’s initiative, a hand cradled your nape, holding you in place as he pushed himself closer to you. He moved against you, tongue slipping from his mouth and tentatively laving over your bottom lip, asking for something.

He was so warm, so caring. You could just close your eyes and follow his lead - you did. He pushed harder, yet the kiss stayed soft and passionate, he lightly nipped your lip and soothed the stinging with his warm tongue, beckoning you to open your mouth for him. Your lips parted, opening up for Miguel to dive in, muscle meeting yours halfway and curling over yours. He still cradled your head, fingers running through your loose hair and tilting your head backwards, giving him more space to show you how much he loved you. Your arms, somehow, found themselves wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close to you as he was pushing himself against you.

His kiss was loving, his hold was careful and his touch heartwarming. You almost regretted having to pull away, but you had to breathe, your lungs starving for air after having been devoured by Miguel’s adoring kiss. The moment you opened your eyes (you didn’t know you had closed them while you kissed), his smile greeted you, a lovesick one bubbling with unending joy. You almost choked from how it fit so well on him.

“That’s- that’s one way…” you spoke between breaths, chest swelling with every erratic pant, matching his similarly worn-out breathing.

That was all he needed from you. Your kiss was enough for him to know you loved him the same, a patient and gentle love he was willing to give you. Your heart pulsed strongly, lips curving and eyes squinting, you pushed yourself closer to his heat, his all-encompassing warmth that wrapped around you when you wanted to feel safe and loved. Your world couldn’t be any brighter, like the vibrant colours of blooming flowers when Persephone was given to her mother, where the snow melted and colours washed over the lands once more, painting the blank white and dead grey in joyous tones. It glowed brightly and warmed you like the summers that followed the melting ice, the clear, blue skies of Olympus and as freeing as the soaring hawks and skipping elks.

Letting go was far harder than loving. To let the person who you let in leave felt emptying, it left a gaping hole in his heart. Where it was once calm, struck a raging storm of rejection and regret, crashing waves the size of Poseidon’s rage and violent storms the strength of Zeus’ retribution. It hurt watching you walk beside a variant of himself, a happier and lighter version of him without his mutations or duty. You were the Spider-Woman of your universe so there wouldn’t be a second one unless there was a catastrophic canon divergence.

He hadn’t followed you at first, respecting your wishes of being left alone. He had to give you that much, at least, after those months spent beside his ignorant ass. He hadn’t seen it until it was too late, lost under the weight of his duty and fears that he’d forgotten he had people who cared, who felt, who loved. It was too late, it was always too late with him. If he couldn’t fix his first mistake, who’s to say he could fix this? He couldn’t save his first daughter or his second’s universe because it was falling apart. He couldn’t save anyone because he hadn’t realised his mistake in interfering in canon events, and he lost you because he couldn’t stop his vitriol, his violent temperament that had pushed you away. He always took things for granted until they were lost to him.

Was it two or three weeks before he decided to check up on you? He didn’t know anymore, the weeks blurred until he finally amassed the courage to go against everyone’s words. Through the flat hologram of his orange screen, he watched you lament on your own, body curled into itself and shoulders shaking. Your sobs were heart-wrenching to watch while he had no means of contacting you; you would’ve reacted more strongly and aggressively if he’d contacted you after leaving.

So he watched.

You stared vacantly from your window and left only for the bare necessities or to act as Spider-Woman. Crime never slept so you couldn’t stop even in your time of need. You swung from building to building so gracefully that Miguel was hypnotised by your grace. He watched these moments as a reminder of the missions he took by your side, webbing and catching anomalies all across the multiverse with fearsome speed and accuracy. You both had made a fearsome team, but that time was over, it was a memory long forgotten.

So he watched.

Your flat was cold and empty, the space filled with spectres of memories, the cool rooms vacant of life that used to fill them with warmth and happiness. It was saddening from his perspective - the observer, the watcher and the reader of your story - of your time spent alone. He wanted to tell you that you weren’t alone, that he was watching you from afar, a silent protector that would only act if you were in imminent danger - as long as it wasn’t part of the canon.

So he watched-

Besides you was Miguel - not him, another one - and he looked much too comfortable by your side for his liking. His variant seemed much too close for a friend, moving from sitting before you to beside you, arm slung over your shoulders and leaning back and, sometimes, towards you at a breath’s distance. He turned green with envy, a vicious monster brewing inside his body with the threat of bursting out, clawing at his chest. The other was too close to you for his liking.

He watched as his variant bought you drinks - always, however long and loud you’d complained and fought, he never let you pay in the end - and paid for your dates. He abhorred it. How happy you looked with the other him. How calm and satisfied your smile was. How close his variant was to you. He wished he was at the other’s place, taking his rightful place beside you. He would kiss you, smother you in love and give you whatever you wanted, whether it be a hug, a kiss or his time, he would’ve given them to you. He wouldn’t dance around the edge of your affection and his love like he was doing, like a man unsure of his feelings and anxious to act on it.

He thought the other Miguel was a coward - though he knew he wasn’t. He wanted to blame his variant and find fault for anything he did, but they were still the same person. He was Miguel O’Hara as much as he was. He wanted, but couldn’t, especially after seeing how both loved you the same, having a similar type. They were so much alike that he could’ve replaced his variant, yet so vastly different in other manners that he would’ve stood out. His history, his trauma, his curse, the other had none of them. He was normal while he was Spider-Man, a stronger, more brutal version of Spider-Man.

Granted, he loved you with every fibre of his being, but he had never showered you with as much love and affection as the other, having his character muddled through long hours of work and long-lasting tragedy. You were another of his tragedies, where he found love again and lost it by his own making. He would have left too if the Society didn’t depend on him, leaning towards him for support and help in protecting the multiverse. It was something he couldn’t sacrifice for his whims.

So he kept watching and let his heart crack and envy fester.

He watched you grow even closer to him, shoulders and hands occasionally touching, making you jump and blush. He watched you move from simple coffee dates to full-blown restaurants and bar dates, drinking and eating at your leisure - something he could’ve never provided you. He watched you wobble around when you were drunk, your arm over his shoulder and his around your waist, supporting your drunk weight. He watched you kiss, the other pressing your bodies together and you reciprocating the loving embrace you had once given to him.

He felt like crying. He was crying, silent tears rolling down his sharp cheeks in slow, thundering waves of his heartbreak. He clung to the desk, claws unintentionally popping out and bending the metal under his fist. The sound ripped through the silent room like the image that ripped through his heart. He was alone in his grief, shoulders slumping and arms shaking with the intensity of his emotions. He had locked the door, barricading it with a busy, do not disturb sign, warning the others that he was occupied and wouldn’t be reached unless there was an emergency.

“Miguel…”

He’d forgotten Lyla was here - she was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, with your help he had given Lyla an upgrade in her system that gave her access to every Spider that had the watch. She had access to every file in the database and his secrets. Lyla was loyal to him as much as she was to you, respecting your words with a promise of her own to leave you alone. That, however, didn’t mean that she wasn’t privy to his pains, watching him while his eyes were stuck to your universe’s screen, giving him some comforting words that were meant to lift his spirit. It never worked but the intention was there.

He couldn’t look at her, still facing the hologram of you kissing. He felt the surge of too many emotions to be able to think clearly, his self-control tethering on a thin line of fragile web. If he turned, he would explode on Lyla, giving her the brunt of his suffering even though she didn’t deserve it, she felt and laughed as much as any other human. He remembered programming in emotion with you, laughing about how much she would be as teasing and annoying as you. Lyla was another gift to him by you, so it would hurt him more.

“Miguel-”

“Don’t- Do not say another word.”

For a man in tears and pain, his voice was curt and stoic, playing the leading figure he’d taken for so long. It betrayed his shaky figure, fingers crushing the metal loudly and shoulders jerking with ever-wrenching choked sob. His world was crumbling around him, rippling and cracking from the seams and folding into itself. The control of his state was failing miserably as he kept staring at your mirthful smile after the kiss. It tore him apart knowing he pushed you further away and into the arms of another. It hurt him deeply.

Through everything, he heard Lyla whisper a small sorry before she popped out of existence, her small holographic body vanishing along with her orange light. Gone was her familiar light, gone was the nostalgic memory of programming her, and along her, was the support of another person. He was truly alone in this moment, to fall on his knees and let himself drown under the weight of everything.

If your love was a tangible thing, he would’ve cradled it between his warm palms, holding it tightly to his chest to feel the soothing effects you had on him. Like a balm to burns, you cooled the searing pains that the world inflicted upon him, the warm blanket that covered him when he needed rest and the pillar that held him when he fell. He’d lost something he couldn’t gain a second time, clutching his head in his misery, drowning and howling.

It felt surreal until it wasn’t until it all sunk in. He truly couldn’t grasp the utter loss and betrayal he felt. The realisation that he truly lost you to none other than himself. The irony of it all slashed deeper, how he drove you closer to another him by his own doing, making you love a Miguel with more gentleness, more kindness and time than him, Miguel O’Hara, the Spider-Man from Nueva York, Earth-928. Everything he had was lost in time, his spiralling thoughts of loss and misery clouded his vision, bringing tears forward in bigger waves.

Was he doomed to lose everything he cared about? Was he bound to love and lose? Why couldn’t he have a happy ending like everyone else? Was it because he was different? Perhaps it was, there were other O’Hara Spider-Man, but none were mutated like him, a product of self-infliction and sabotage - none had their DNA spliced and mixed with a spider’s. He was simply too different from the others, they were lean but still had a strong musculature, muscles tightened to create more strength and defence; none were big and broad as he was, with rough edges and mean streaks. They were nice and happy, faced losses of their own, but always came out on top (there were some minor - sometimes major - variants of Spider-Man here and there, but they all had some similarities in their stories of becoming.). He saw the devastation and grasped onto the thinnest silver lining he could find, holding onto it to stay afloat while others thrived where they were.

Maybe it was truly because of him. He was realistic - near cynic - he couldn’t see things optimistically, life had made him that way. The silver lining he saw in things was small, nearly extinguished by his near-pessimistic way of life. Did that have an impact as well? It most likely did, at least partly. Fate had given him a bad hand in things, he couldn’t be completely blamed for how things turned - or so he thought, hoped. A man wasn’t only the result of what he’d done, but also of what he was given. When push comes to shove, Miguel acted in a way he thought meant well for him and the others even if it didn’t seem like the right decision at first. He rarely doubted his actions while he did them, only after, could he let himself face the consequences of what he’d done. Miguel simply didn’t have the pleasure of waiting. He needed to act when it was called.

If he had waited, if he had been patient and sought out others for support, if he had spent time thinking before acting, would he still have his little girl beside him? Would he still have you in his arms? If he had shown you more affection, would you have still loved him?

Did you still love him?

Miguel didn’t know what he was doing. Standing before your apartment door in civilian clothing and a bouquet of twelve, beautiful white tulips - the meaning not lost to him. It was an attempt at apologizing for his mistakes, a desperate one led by heartache. He brushed his hair back, trying to look as kept as he could in his situation: dark bags and sickly skin, tense muscles and sore back. This was a daring move from him, it would end up catastrophic if the Miguel from your universe saw him at your front door; but he checked, making sure his variant was elsewhere before opening a portal to your place.

He hadn’t moved in a while, listening to you move around your flat, the sound of your soft steps shuffling from behind the door, a wall between you and him, reminding him that he wouldn’t be able to cross it unless you welcomed him. He held the bouquet in one hand and knocked with the other, his knuckles hitting the wood softly and hesitantly. There was a pause between every knock, drawn by his nerves and the anxiety that gripped him.

You moved and closed in on the sound at the door. He saw your shadow dance under the small gap on the floor and pause. You knew. You knew it was him even without peeking through the peephole, your spider-sense aiding you in recognizing the unknown. Although your hand rested reluctantly at the knob - perhaps still too raw from your break as he was - you opened the door for him, figure small and apprehensive.

“Miguel,” you muttered his name, greeting him with a slow nod. You stepped back and opened the door wider for him, he took it as a good sign that you let him in rather than shut the door in his face.

He nodded back, saying your name. He took a step forward, foot breaking the barrier to your flat. The second one ensured he was fully invited, both feet strongly rooted on your side of the door. He wanted to make himself smaller, to appease you, but he knew you wouldn’t have liked that. He squirmed under your stare, a mix of curiosity and concern.

He nearly sighed audibly when you gestured at him to sit and he moved to the sofa he remembered sleeping on with you, cuddling under a warm blanket while you watched a movie. He knew your home by heart like you knew his, the memory washed over him with melancholy. You sat on the armchair to his left, your back to the kitchen. He swallowed thickly and handed you the bouquet, freshly cut tulips glistening with pearly drops under your lights.

Your shoulders shook as you leaned in to take the bouquet, jolting back when your fingers grazed him. Feeling your skin felt invigorating, it breathed back life into him, even slightly. You thanked him with a slow nod, seemingly unsure of what to make of it. Was it a gift? Was it an apology? Was it a farewell sign? He figured your mind was running in circles trying to understand the meaning of the pretty bouquet he handed you. You were always an overthinker, but your mind worked brutally well. That’s something he always appreciated about you.

“I-” Miguel started, seemingly stopped by something that he couldn’t get out of his throat. Maybe a ball of dread or needles of anxiety, but it held him from giving you the words he spent nights thinking over, to give you the message he built from the deepest crevice of his heart. “I’m sorry, (Name).”

You stared at him, understanding that he needed a moment of silence to truly convey his feelings. You hadn’t uttered a word since he first started, expression neutral, not betraying whatever brewing storm you locked inside of you. He was grateful, truly.

“I know- I know it doesn’t mean much now, but I’m really, really sorry, mi vida.”

He sensed you tense, the muscles of your back contracting and rippling under your shirt. Every unseen fibre moving was bare to him, he could see and feel better than most, if not, everyone else.

“I acted out of anger and lack of sleep, but that doesn’t mean you deserved that- never. I just, my mutation makes me more animalistic, more… aggressive than the other, and I hurt you. You didn’t deserve any of that and I can’t always blame it on my mutations. I should’ve been able to control myself. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you in those ways.”

He lowered his gaze to his hands, the calloused pads of his fingers rubbing his palm, trying to coax himself into relaxation. Although your breathing softened, a calm breeze in an atmosphere thick with tension, he didn’t dare look up and see the face you were making.

“I was a bad boyfriend and a horrible friend. I’m- I’m not asking you to forgive me, I don’t want you to forgive me, but- I just needed to tell you how much I regret hurting you. I want to apologise, I don’t know what else to do, I don’t know how to fix this.” He breathed deeply, collecting every ounce of confidence and honesty to brave your reaction. “I’m sorry, mi cielo.”

He shuddered, body rippling with his pained breath. He hadn’t realised how painful it would be to face you with his fears and confession, with the threat of abandonment and rejection fresh in his mind. He was a man of pride and strength, rarely facing anything with trepidation and hesitance.

“I’m really sorry, mi cielo. I’m so, so sorry.”

He sat in silence, letting it hang over him like the blade of a guillotine, silent and brunt. Perceiving the flash of the sharp blade before it fell on his neck, sentencing him to a quick downfall with a long, lasting agony that would sting his neck as long as it would hurt his heart. The French used it for executions, the thing that spelled people’s end. At its height, it was used as an apparatus to behead traitors or people who were deemed dangerous to the people of the new republic. Down the blame went and off the head popped, like it would happen to Miguel if he wasn’t prepared for it. He truly didn’t know whether he had prepared for his rejection, for the death of his heart, to watch the flickering sparks of his flame wither out.

“I’m sorry too, Miguel-”

The rope strained, knots twisting and rippling in the tightness of the pull. It shook, whipping in the air as it straightened completely, held closely by the hand of the executioner. The wind blew but it was sturdy, withstanding the violent gales that slammed against the body of it.

“-it means a lot that you came here to apologise- ”

The crowd was filled with silence, the emptiness of the area a mock of a ghost town. Abandoned to be sentenced to death without anyone to witness. They deemed him not fit for their acknowledgment before his death, before the sparks of his life extinguished. His fate wasn’t worth their time, unlike the poorest criminals who stole for money, unlike the richest pigs who fed from the poor with their silver spoons and golden crowns, unlike the cruellest killers who gutted and left men, women and children to bleed out, and unlike the guiltless innocents cursed for something they hadn’t committed.

“-but, I can’t.”

The rope was let loose, its tail flying and whipping in the air as the blade descended with its weight. The wood chafed against its support beams, yet it flew gracefully and rapidly, singing the doom of its prisoner. The blade gleamed under the moon’s bright light, the silver whispers of peace and sleep deaf to his ears.

“I can’t love you anymore.”

It cracked down on him, his life flashing before him as it cut into him. Severing his control over his body, putting out the dying embers of hope. He clung to desperation in his last moments, wishing to relive the moments of happiness, bright oblivion and cherished love.

He wished that he could’ve seen your shadowed figure hidden in the darkness, tears lining your cheeks as you watched him take his last breath. The only person who came to see him leave, the one who he would’ve burned the world for. In the end, after everything he’d done, you still gave him a small moment of your time to witness his fall, you deemed him worthy of such an act. You offered him your kindness.

My extensive tag list of extremely patient people pt1.:

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fairlyang · 5 months

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Help 🕷️

in which you get your boss a fleshlight

w/c: 1.4K

pairing: boss!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. toy usage, catching him use it, voyeurism, pervy reader

After having a very wonderful and eye opening conversation with Peter B Parker about him explaining how Miguel had been complaining to him about the lack of intimacy in his life and Peter taking that as he only missed physical touch like hand holding, over.... other things... more obvious things....

You got the great idea to buy him a toy, a fleshlight to be more specific.

It had just arrived at your front door this morning and you made sure to get a bag for it to fit perfectly inside alone with a little note that said "to help you out;)"

You grinned as you walked through the portal from your apartment to HQ, you were very excited to give Miguel his gift and were already thinking of how fast you'd have to run away after giving it to him. You didn't wanna see his reaction afraid he'd get mad in an instant but figured he may as well put his anger to good use, against a toy.

You made your way to Miguel's office, your confidence never leaving as this could help him out a lot, plus it was expensive so you hoped he'd use it over completely ignoring it. Plus it'd be something good for him to let his frustration out on, surely a good orgasm could go a long way for him.

You see him fully immersed in his screens with his back turned to you so you put the bag down by his platform then let out a low whistle for him to take notice of you then quickly swing away as soon as he turned his head.

Miguel groaned at the sight of you swinging away but then rolls his eyes when he sees the bag on the floor. He already had enough of Gwen and Miles' pranks now he had to worry about you too?

And to think he thought you were just chirpy and curious not annoying and obnoxious. He sighed and walked over, bending out to see what was inside because curiosity got the best of him.

He grabbed the bag and pulled the box out of it, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets when he saw what it was.

He was dumbfounded.

Of all the possible things he had imagined, that, was the last thing he expected.

He had expected a glitter bomb, maybe some spiders, hell literally anything else.

He blinked at it and shook his head, surely that's not what is actually inside? He took a look inside the bag and groaned reading the note. Help? For what-

He withdrew his talons and sliced the tape up before quickly opening the box. Come to find out it indeed was a fleshlight.

Was this a new kind of prank? What was the meaning of this?

He rolls his eyes in frustration and takes the toy from out of its plastic pack before looking at it blankly. Unimpressed.

But then his eyes scanned over the lips of the fleshlight, he couldn't help but wonder who they belonged it.

They were opened up and the clit was barely seen, mostly covered up by the clitoral hood. He gulped and brought a finger down to see if the lips would move.

He slid his fingers between the lips as if he were doing it to a real woman and it felt incredibly realistic. He then gently lifted the hood up and there was the clit in all it's glory. He rubbed his finger against it and that felt real too.

He groaned already feeling his cock grow hard beneath his suit. He then moved his fingers and spat on it before his fingers made its way slowly spreading his spit along the folds of his new toy.

He then sighed and walked over to where he had his chair when looking over the screens. He ignored whatever video was playing and sat down before pressing a button on his watch and the lower half of his suit disintegrated into pixels until it revealed his hard cock.

He spread his legs wide and leaned over a bit to spit on his cock before he slowly started to stroke himself. He then stopped and brought his fingers back to the toy, slipping two fingers inside and already feeling the silicone walls wrap around his fingers so good.

He moaned at the sensation and could already tell this was going to feel incredible on his cock. The way his fingers were only halfway and the toy was just sucking him in, squeezing his fingers and he couldn't handle it anymore.

He slipped his fingers out and immediately positioned the toy to his cock, he held it up with his other hand and slowly slipped his tip inside. He let out a groan, as expected the toy was extremely tight.

He pulled it out and spit on it again then slides his fingers inside and started fingering the toy making sure it was wet from the inside as well so he could just slip in easier.

He fingered it fast and then pulled his fingers out and positioned the toy to his tip again. He slides the toy down and this time it goes down easier but it was still so fucking tight. He groaned and laid his head back against the chair, it felt too fucking real.

He closed his eyes and started moving his right hand slowly, teasing himself on purpose. The toy was barely halfway on his cock when he slams it down letting out desperate moans out of pure pleasure.

Just then you walked up to his office, bringing back some reports of the last missions you did quickly flipping over them when you hear moans. You raise an eyebrow and look up at Miguel's platform, seeing him using the toy you got him.

You didn't expect him to actually use it... you thought he'd throw it away or just not pay any attention to it at all but boy were you wrong.

You quietly got closer, and saw as he was slamming the toy up and down on his cock. The noises that left his mouth could live in your wet dreams for the rest of your life.

You gulped and continued watching, not able to stop, absolutely obsessed with how he was bucking his hips up. And how his head was hung back with his eyes closed.

He looked so good.

He moaned and thrusted his hips up as he continued fucking the toy, doing it faster now.

And sounded incredible.

You squeezed your thighs together already feeling your arousal build up from his moans alone. But hearing the sounds the toy was making was also helping out.

You bit your lip and slid a hand down between your legs not able to help but be turned on at the sight in front of you. And the fact it was a toy you gave him and it hadn't even been an hour and he was already using it.

You rub along your folds over your suit and feel your arousal moving around. That was fast.

You feel your breath hitch in your throat when he began thrusted up and stopped moving his hand with the toy, completely relying on his own hips to feel the tightness of the fleshlight.

He started slamming up into the toy making you a nervous wreck that you'd accidentally make a noise. You started rubbing your clit at a same pace Miguel was going and it was already getting harder and harder to stay quiet.

Soon enough your pussy was going to be loud enough for him to hear. But at least him not having any spider sense really helped you out otherwise he would've kicked you out as soon as you walked in.

Suddenly his moans become louder and his pace was slowly down. His legs were shaking and he groans lifting his hips up and stays like that, filling up the fleshlight to the brim.

You watched in awe and took quick notice of him sitting back down and slowly lifting the toy up. He slid the toy up and off his cock, his cum instantly leaking out of the hole and dripping down to his thighs.

He groaned in annoyance and you realized you've overdone your stay. You bring your hand up from between your legs and quietly step back, then quickly swing away not believing what you just saw.

#across the spiderverse #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x y/n #atsv miguel

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the-broken-truth · 11 months

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Red Eyes [Part 1] - Platonic Yandere Miguel O'Hara w/ Male Spider Teen Reader

Summary: Hello, my name is [Name] [Surname]. I am known as the Crimson Spider from Earth-865. Peter B. Parker recruited me to join the Spider-Society where I was introduced to its leader, Miguel O'Hara. However, since the moment our eyes met, Miguel has developed a dangerous obsession with me. I am unsure if I can handle this situation or if I will end up like others who have been chased away by him.

[Spider-Society Headquarters]

I strolled down the hallway with my hands tucked into the pockets of my Spider-Man suit. Peter B. Parker, the older Spider-Man, guided me to the main hub of their headquarters. The leader of this operation was overseeing the containment of Anomalies and monitoring the Spiderverse, which Miles affectionately referred to as his preferred term over the Multiverse. I personally agree; the Multiverse sounds too mundane.

Oh, I'm getting ahead of myself, allow me to introduce myself: My name is [Name] [Surname], also known as the Crimson Spider of Earth-865; I was bitten by a radioactive spider on my 15th Birthday and y life was never the same again. Being the Crimson Spider was one of the best decisions I had ever made but it take a lot of my time. I try to be a good son to my parents and keep my grades up in school but the world needs saving and i'm going to do what I need to do to keep it safe. I met Peter B. Parker when a strange version of the Vulture came into my world when I was sure that the Vulture was still in prison. I managed to stop him when a portal opened up and another Spider-Man came out of the hole and introduced himself as Peter B. Parker and told me to follow him to come to a place where there were more people like me. I did, i had questions and I needed answers.

"Just a heads up, Miguel is a rather irritated person - he gets mad easily and it's easy to get on his bad side, just ask Miles and Gwen. Now, when we see him, just let me do all the talking." Peter said as he and I entered the main hub and I saw him - Miguel O'Hara - standing before a holographic tablet while watching a video of some kind before he pushed it away and turned to face Peter and me - the first thing I noticed about him was his Red Eyes - just like mine. That's right - I was born with Crimson Red Eyes, I got it from my father's father, who also had red eyes. I was rather popular at school because of my eyes; it's rare to see someone with red eyes.

"Did you catch the Anolmany?" Miguel asked Peter but his eyes were still glaring at me.

"Actually, this kid caught him; had him wrapped like a present by the time I got there." Peter said as he moved out of the way to gesture towards me, I waved at Miguel and he narrowed his eyes before he jumped down and landed right in front of me.

"Who are you?" Miguel asked.

"I'm the Crimson-Spider of Earth-865; at least, that's what Peter tells me." I said as I gestured towards Peter who nodded and smiled.

"You defeated the Anolmany? Interested. Take off your mask and show me your face and tell me your real name.; if you want to work here, I need to know who you really are." Miguel said, I looked over at Peter, who nodded and I looked at Miguel before removing my mask and looking at him with my red eyes; his eyes widened when he saw me.

"My name is [Name] [Surname]." I introduced myself.

"Your eyes...they're red." Miguel said.

"Yes, I got them from my Grandfather; surprisingly, his name is also Miguel." I smiled but Miguel just stood there, looking at my eyes before he turned and jumped back to his platform.

"Give him a bracelet, Peter; he's one of us now and he'll be going on missions with me from now on." Miguel said as he started working again. Peter smiled and gave me a bracelet that kept me from glitching but there was something about the way he said that I would be working with him from now on. Why was he so insistent that i work with him?

#spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #male reader #spider!reader #peter b parker #platonic yandere

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aliorsboxostuff · 11 months

Note

Trans Spidey reader and Miguel where the reader is really really into Miguel’s talons and muscles and everyone at HQ knows but Miguel (basically just sexual tension between oblivious people)

Imagine crushing on Miguel and being reciprocated haha couldn't be me FHSFHFJKDF I really do like this idea anon tysm! I love writing oblivious trope, its always so fun! I hope you all enjoyed this btw!

Exclusively Yours

Tags: Miguel O’hara x ftM,!reader, Spidey!reader, Miguel O’hara, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabakhar, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Margo (Spider Byte), Jessica Drew, Peter B. Parker, Mayday, Fluff, sexual tension, soft!Miguel, Maybe OOC, Miles’ group being a menace, a bit nsfw-ish maybe, kissing, humor, confessions, feelings realization

Maybe you're not the first Spiderman to notice Miguel's arms and claws, and maybe you're not the first person to fall in love with him because of those too. But you're certainly the first to make Miguel fall in love.

—

1st Month

“I can't be the only one seeing this, right?” The other tree turns to Pavitr, his eyes following the new guy that just got into the Spider Society, next to him stands Miguel.

“I mean, he made Miguel walk outside his office for once!” The new guy laughs, a flash of a blush on his cheeks while Miguel says something the group couldn't hear.

“Honestly a bit scary ain't it?” Hobie chews another chip. “Boss man never smiles, now look at tha’,”

The group snickers as they watch those two walk past the cafeteria, before they turn a corner and disappear from their vision. Gwen takes a sip of her smoothie, her head tilted slightly. “You’ve seen how he looks at Miguel?”

“I mean, I've only been on a mission with those two once…” She grins. “Pretty sure he kept sneaking glances at his arms,”

“There’s no way they don't like each other!” However, what Pavitr said made Hobie scoff.

“Miguel or new guy?” Pavitr tilts his head.

“I wouldn't bet on that mate, man’s so blind might as well be walkin’ to a pole,”

“Both to be ‘onest,”

“Impossible! Did you see the tension? I can practically feel it,” The shorter boy grips at the edge of the table, his eyes sparkling.

“Y’know, yesterday, while me and Peter reported back to Miguel’s-” The group leans closer to their shared table. “He was showing the new guy his claws!”

“What?!” Pavitr shouts, the group erupts in laughter. “No way that's real!”

“Wait wait, were they like-” Suddenly, Pavitr grabs at Hobie’s wrists, bringing them close to his face. “Oh! They are so sharp Miguel! Must you always be so dangerous!”

Pavitr brings one hand to his crown, pressing the back of it to dramatize his impression of the new guy. Hobi snickers, before he plays into his friend's bit, one hand holds Pavitrs face while the other fists, pressed to his chest. “Never for you, my love,”

“Oh Miguel!” Pavitr turns his head to the side and Hobie closes his eyes, both of them making kissy faces at each other.

“Oh my god!” Gwen and Miles doubles over in laughter, the girl holding on to Miles’ shoulder while she holds on to her stomach, Miles already cackling over the table. Hobie and Pavitr join their laughs, Hobie holding his sides while Pavitr slapped the table repeatedly, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes.

Miles shakes as he brings his head up. “Miguel would kill you!”

“Who would I kill?” The group halted, turning slowly to find Miguel standing beside their table, arms crossed, one dangerous brow raised. Gwen looks away, Pavitr and Miles audibly gulp while Hobie rolls his eyes, huffing.

“N-nothing- No one! Nope, haha,” Miles shakes his head, a nervous smile on his lips. Miguel simply raises his brow higher, eyes narrowing.

“Oh! Would you look at the time!” Gwen glances at nothing on her wrist. “We should get going, right guys? We have that meeting, right?”

“Oh yeaah! The meeting, yes,” Pavitr shakily grins, shaking Hobie’s shoulder. “Come on Hobie we should go, haha,”

The team shuffles awkwardly away from the table, before they all booked it and ran in the same direction, Miles and Pavitr already jumping off the ledge and swinging away, followed by Gwen and Hobie who’s running behind them before also flying away. Miguel rumbles lowly, before he sees the new guy approaching him with his tray of food and joins him in looking for a seat.

—

5th Month

Gwen pulls off her mask as she enters Margo’s lab, the girl nods her head to the music she's listening to, her eyes on the monitors. She adjusts the files inside the small box she's carrying before walking towards her. “Hey Margo, Jessica told me you needed these?”

“Oh yeah, just put them there,” Her hologram glitches as the headphones disappear. She stands, walking towards where Gwen set aside the box before riffling through it.

“What’s in those anyways?” Gwen perches herself on one of the empty consoles. Margo opens one and flips through it.

“Oh it’s actually from Miguel,” She closes the file, setting it aside, before looking through the others. Gwen hums, looking around the various screens, briefly at the Go Home Machine, before she turns to Margo again.

“Hey, speaking of Miguel, you’ve seen the new guy right?”

“The one that sticks with Miguel, like, all the time?” Margo smirks, setting aside another piece of paper. Gwen nods, now intrigued. “Oh have I,”

“They were here, like, a couple of weeks ago right, and lemme tell you,” Margo pushes the box away, sitting up where Gwen is also sitting, pulling one leg up to her chest. “His eyes were all over Miguel's body, I swear!”

“Holy shit?”

“Im serious! Jessica was right there, by the way, and he was eating Miguel up,”

“Shut up!” Gwen giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. Margo laughs too, now her legs are crossed over the console.

“Especially his arms, like boy get a room!” Miguel laughs, throwing her head back while Gwen holds at her side, almost doubling over from her own laughter.

“You think-” Gwen tries to stifle her giggles. “You think Miguel notices?”

“I’d be surprised if he didn't! We both know he’s dumb about these things, but come on,”

“Yeah, I’d feel sad if Miguel doesn't know,” Gwen sighs, leaning on her hands behind her. “Though, I’m pretty sure he’s also been checking out the new guy,”

“Don’t get me started!” Margo’s grin widens.

—

1 year

“So how’s Miggy been treating you?”

“Really? Right now, Parker?”

You’re currently swinging through another universe's version of Brooklyn, chasing a rouge Doc Oct from another dimension. Peter was now running on top of a building while you swung under the elevated railway. Mayday giggles in her baby carrier when her father leaped off the building and joins to swing next to you. Your back aches a bit when you swung to another building, maybe wearing a binder today wasn’t your best choice, then again you didn't know the fucker was gonna run this long.

“Hey, we haven't got time to catch up ever since Mr. Dark and broody’s been stealing you,” He shrugs, sharply turning just as you swung above him, Doc Oct meter away, still running with his metal arms.

“First of all, he hasn't been ‘stealing me’-” You made quotation marks mid-air. “And Secondly-”

A car was suddenly thrown at you, at which you narrowly slide past the opened passenger and driver's window, before webbing it up so it doesn't hit the pedestrians below. “Miguel’s been treating me great, okay,”

“Has he asked you out to dinner yet?” He twips another web, swinging on it.

“What?!” Just as you said that, Doc Oct threw debris toward you, which you quickly swing away and secured that too. “Oh shit…”

“You’ll never catch me Spidermans!” He shouts and does that damn annoying meniscal laugh.

“Let’s wrap this up?” You suggested to Peter as he stops at the same lamp post as you.

“Yup, hold on to daddy, baby,” Mayday nods her little head as Peter adjusts her straps, then it’s off against Doc Oct.

Peter swings behind him, effectively catching his attention as you landed a punch straight to his jaw. He shakes away the pain, imminently turning and letting his metal arms attack you, the sharp appendages reach towards you before Peter shoots at it, pulling it down towards the ground. Doc Oct hits concrete hard, at which you quickly tie up the rest of his appendages. He sharply turns to you before you could tie the last arm, sweeping you off of your feet, which makes you fall as he cages you on the ground, the sharp end of the arm almost slicing your next if you didn't duck quick enough. Peter lands meters behind Doc Oct, the hologram cage in his hand. He nods curtly, his eyes on you.

“Now!” You threw off Doc Oct with your legs, Peter throwing the cage just where he lands. When he went to chase after you, the cage clicks open, effectively containing him.

You catch your breath, before deciding to lie on the concrete floor and covering your eyes with one arm. “Nice going man,”

“Thanks,” You say as Peter stands beside you. “You too,”

Peter shrugs before he releases Mayday from her carrier, holding her in front of him before he kisses her nose. “And you too young lady, very brave,”

Mayday giggles, hands patting Peter’s cheeks. You huff, resting your arms on your chest while keeping your eyes closed. You can still hear Mayday's little voice, before Peter turns to you. “So he hasn't asked you out yet?”

“I really don't know what you're talking about Pete,”

“Oh come on! You’ve been with us for a year, probably longer with Miguel-”

You sharply sit up. “What?”

“I’m just sayin’,” He held his hands up, Mayday hanging on his hip. “You guys should be official by now,”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “And what makes you think he likes me?”

“Oh my god, Jessica is right, you’re way too oblivious,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You stand, brows furrowed while Peter laughs with his daughter. Clearly, your confusion is hilarious to him. “There’s no way thee Miguel O’hara likes me, okay,”

“Sure sometimes I feel his eyes on me, or how much he asks me to hang out with him, but I’m probably not the only one!”

“No, you are-”

“Plus, he’s busy okay, he only ever makes time to eat lunch with me, or to train, sometimes, if I'm lucky, maybe even a coffee break together, but that's it! He doesn't like me, he doesn't trail me with those sharp eyes, we don't accidentally make eye contact, he doesn't smile at me or laugh along my lame jokes, and he definitely didn’t blush when I asked about his claws- oh my god he does like me…”

“Bingo,” Peter snaps his fingers, followed by Maydays giggles as Pete holds her by her legs, red hair covering her face.

Your face reddens, eyes blinking as you recall all of your and Miguel’s interactions for the past year. The first month you showed up, Miguel paired himself with you and you thought he was just being nice. He indulges in your curiosity, showing you his claws, a bit worried but couldn't help the steady red that appears on his cheeks when you leaned closer. He makes time for you, joins you for lunch, which had the teens curious. He only ever trains with you, letting you spar with him, those widened eyes whenever you managed to pin him down. The longing gazes that you sometimes caught, smiling at him when you do which only makes Miguel turn away. The way he lets you on his platform, hanging out with him where others usually had to wait until Miguel dramatically descends. When he encourages you, lingering hand on your shoulders, and back, the ghost of a smirk only reserved around you.

And you have been eyeing him too. How could you not when a man that good-looking, that dedicated to his work, is right there?! But the idea of Miguel reciprocating your feeling…

“Alright, let's get you home buddy,” Peter moves behind you, pushing your shoulders and walking towards the opened portal. You’re still in a daze, confused and embarrassed with how many signs you missed from him.

—

The next day, you're still clouded with the possibility of Miguel liking you back, making you hesitant to ask him to eat lunch with you. The activity has become a constant now, but ever since your revelation, you were second-guessing yourself.

You take a breath, closing your eyes briefly, before pushing the doors open. You jog your way to where Miguel's platform is and swing your way up easily. “Hey Miguel, join me for lunch?”

“Sure, let me allow Lyla to take over,” He nods toward you before turning back to his screens. You hum, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

“Alright, let's go,” He turns around, stretching his arms above his head briefly, the sight of his muscles taut makes you gulp. Now or never…

“Wait, I have something I wanna talk about,” You blurted out, looking anywhere but at Miguel. He stops in his tracks, putting one hand on his hip.

“Sure, go ahead,” He nods, patiently waiting. You inhale slowly, and let your breath out.

“I hope I'm not reading the room wrong but- I’ve noticed the way you look at me, Miguel,” You meet his red irises. They widen slightly, Miguel stands straighter. “You follow me with your eyes, and I know what they mean. You make time for me and we train together, you let me up on your platform, hell, I’m the only one allowed to get close to you without you getting irritated!”

You laugh nervously, swiping back your fallen fringe. “What I’m saying is, am I wrong to think that you like me?”

A beat passes. Silence aside from the writing of cables and soft beeps from the monitors. Your hands turn to fists ready for the rejection, maybe a condescending laugh from the man you’re pining, until-

“No, you're not,” He sighs. “ I do. I like you a lot, but I didn't want to ruin what we had. You're so close to me, and I’m afraid that if I told you, you’ll…”

Miguel turns slightly, averting his eyes, which is unlike him at all. His blush is now prominent, which spikes your own blush. You gulp, slowly stepping towards him. Your hand reaches for his arms, your touch making him blink and meet your gaze once again. “I like you too, Miguel,”

“If you couldn't tell, I’ve also been sneaking glances at you,” You chuckle, placing one hand on his jaw as Miguel also chuckles, his voice reverberating around the room. “God, they were all right, we’re so oblivious,”

“‘They’?” Miguel grins, his hand holding your wrist, tilting his head against your hand.

“The others noticed before we did,”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” You giggle.

“Wow, okay,” He follows your laugh, bumping his forehead against yours as the two of you laugh. You close your eyes, breathing in the scent that is Miguel, Basking in his warmth as he holds you close. Slowly, as the laughter dies down, you open your eyes, staring into his bright reds. Your hand brings his chin closer, you felt his breath stutter. After months of build-up, Miguel's lips against yours feel explosive. His hands are on your hips, pulling you closer, the reminder of those sharp talons beneath them. One hand reaches to tangle in Miguel’s hair, making him grunt, deepening the kiss. You feel his large hands caressing your sides, sending shivers down your spine. When you two pull back, Miguel's eyes are blown wide while you smirk, licking the remnants of him from your lips.

“That year-long pining?” You smirk, pulling his shoulder closer, your nose brushing his. “Fucking worth it.”

Requests are open! Reblogs appreciated <;3

#miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x m!reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x ftm!reader #miguel o'hara x trans!reader

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lokust · 11 months

Note

For the fox requests, ler Miguel and lee hobie, where hobie has been annoying him all day so he wrecks him?

I love your work btw

“And you… I tried to ignore you but I just can’t.”

“Just pretend I’m not even here”.

Hobie had made that sound much easier than it was- much much easier than it could ever be, and Miguel was starting to question how anyone in the Spider Society had managed to stay sane with the Spider Punk around.

“I just don’t get it, Peter. I mean.. the kid’s insane. All he does is cause problems for me- and not in the same way Miles causes problems, no. It’s worse. Hobie does it on purpose.”, Miguel sighed, leaning back in his chair as he finished his rant to Peter B, who was… definitely listening as he crocheted Mayday a rather adorable hat.

“Oh, come on, Miguel”, Peter started, furrowing his eyebrows as he concentrated on the difficult pattern he was trying to create, “The kids really aren’t that bad. I mean, sure, Hobie can be a handful, but most of the time he’s trying to get a rise out of you”, he said as he put down the crochet hook, standing up and examining the little hat with a content smile. “And besides…” he started to leave the room, stopping to stand beside Miguel for only a moment, reaching a hand out “You make it really easy”.

It was that damn spider-sense that Miguel didn’t have that left him vulnerable and had him squirming from the prodding of Peter’s fingers against his side, though they were gone in an instant as Peter left the room. Still, the blush that covered his cheeks as he grumbled was very much there as he huffed and tried to shake off the residual tingles.

“Stupid fuckin… ticklish spider people”, he muttered to himself as he sat, considering what to do about Hobie’s attitude. He stayed like that for quite a few minutes, fiddling with a pen as he considered how he’d ever manage to get Hobie to just listen for once, but after a while, he’d lost his train of thought. He found himself thinking about anything and everything that could worm its way into his mind, and he’d never admit to the small, rare smile that tugged at his lips as he thought of how Peter previously poked and prodded at his sides.

Suddenly, Miguel snapped himself out of it with a faint blush dusting his cheeks, his eyes widening as that small smile turned to a smirk as he had what he considered a phenomenal idea.

“..Ohoh… I’m gonna get that little shit so good.”

__________________

“Aye, look who’s here!”, Hobie said as he swiveled in his chair at the sound of an opening door, “What’s got you smilin’ like that, bruv? Never seen you happy before a day in my life- it was the only thing I liked about you, really”

Miguel’s smile dropped instantly, his top lip curling as he became irritated already, but he took a deep breath and pulled himself together as he remembered Peter’s words.

“He’s only trying to get a rise out of you.”

‘Right..”, Miguel thought as he took another breath, ‘He’s looking for a reaction’

‘…and he’s about to get one.’

Really, that was the only reason Hobie went out of his way to aggravate Miguel. He knew how easy it was to piss the guy off.

Miguel huffed as Hobie simply sat there, his legs propped on the table as he looked at his phone with a smug grin. There was silence for a few moments until.. thwip.

Hobie’s eyebrows furrowed as he realized his arms were stuck to his sides, his phone still in hand as he struggled against the orange webs, “Wh- are you serious? Real fuckin funny, mate. Now, let me go”, he demanded in an irritated tone as he sat up straight.

Miguel clicked his tongue as he approached the punk in a slow, almost stalkerish manner. “You know, Hobie. I struggle to deal with all of you kids. I mean, Gwen doesn’t listen to me, Pav is just all over the place all the time, and Miles… well, he’s just Miles.”

Hobie glared at the older spider as he spoke whilst he paced back and forth.

“I’ve managed so far with those three, but you… I had no idea what I was gonna do with you. I thought about it and thought about it for quite some time. You see, Hobie, you’re nothing like the other kids, and I respect you for that, but I had no idea how to work with you. You have nothing in common with them…”, Miguel placed his hands on the back of the chair, leaning down a bit, “Or so I thought… then I remembered the one tiny little thing that all spider people have in common…”.

Hobie swore he could hear Miguel grinning, but still, he sat there, completely unamused by Miguel’s little speech. “Is that supposed to scare me, old man? I’m not afraid of you. I ain’t got no reason to be afraid of you- or anyone for that matter. Now, get me out of these fuckin wEBS- ACK!”.

Hobie’s eyes widened for just a moment as he tried to twist to the left upon feeling one single claw prod at his side. He swiveled a bit in the chair to look at Miguel, who he could see now was wearing a shit eating grin. Hobie’s face turned to one of obvious irritation as he tugged harder at the webs, trying his best to get out of them. “Don’t even fuckin try it, mate. I swear to god I’ll- nngh! S-Stop that!”, he squeaked again as he felt a claw prod at his other side now

Miguel hummed, a triumphant grin on his face as he continued to give his speech. “See, to get to you, I just had to use the one thing that gets to every spider person”. Finally, he reached down and dig five claws into each of Hobie’s sides, “and you’re just as sensitive as the rest of us~”.

Hobie clenched his eyes shut, tightening his fists in an attempt to ease the horribly ticklish sensation. He was finding it harder and harder to fight the giggles bubbling in his throat. “You- You ohold bastard! Quihit it!”, he attempted to bark the words, but they came out through broken, poorly suppressed laughter.

Miguel squeezed and clawed at Hobie’s sides that were somewhat protected by the thin t-shirt he was wearing. But as he realized Hobie was doing a rather good job at holding back, the older hummed and tickled his way down to Hobie’s hips, finding the hem of his shirt and worming his fingers underneath it.

As Hobie continued to struggle against the webs, his eyes snapped open when he felt those claws against the bare skin of his hips. He jerked violently, squealing as he twisted his hips “NO- Nono nohoho! Fuhuhuck you, get AWAHAY FROM THEHERE!”.

Miguel seemed almost taken aback as the floodgates of desperate, ticklish laughter seemed to open suddenly. “Get away from the hips, huh? That’s pretty interesting. I thought all spider people had the same ti- uh… sensitive spots”, he said, blushing as he stammered over the t-word. “But you continue to prove me wrong…”

As badly as he wanted to, Hobie couldn’t keep himself from laughing as Miguel squeezed his hips rapidly, occasionally wiggling his fingers against the hipbone, “NohoHOHO! Fuhuck you! St-STOHOP IHIT YOU OLD FUHUCK!”, he twisted his hips as much as the webs allowed him to, occasionally arching his back in an attempt to get away, but those claws seemed to be attached.

Miguel hissed a bit through his teeth, Hobie’s insults certainly not hitting as hard as the poor boy laughed himself to death “Old fuck, huh? You know, you really need to watch your language, Hobie. Maybe I can fix that too”, Miguel teased, his method changing from rapid squeezing and wiggling to quick scratches and spiders against the punk’s hipbones.

Miguel really couldn’t care less about the kid’s language, he just wanted to tease Hobie.

Hobie’s laughter raised in both pitch and volume as his thrashing became frantic. He knew his hips were ticklish, but he’d never in his life been tickled like this and those fucking claws were driving him mad. “NNGH- StahaHAP! Shihit that tihIHICKLES!”.

Miguel huffed out a laugh as he laid off that particular spot, deciding to worm his claws up to Hobie’s sides very carefully as not to scratch him. Hobie’s laughter became less hysterical instantly, though it was still obviously a very ticklish spot.

“Mmm, sorry, kid. If you want me to stop, you gotta apologize for all the trouble you’ve caused, and then maybe.. I’ll let you go”, Miguel said, smiling like a Cheshire cat as he gently scratched at one side while digging into the other relentlessly.

Hobie hiccuped as he shook his head in response to Miguel’s words, “F-Fahahat chance, m-ATE! NOHOT THE HIPS AGAIN, FUHUCK!”. His laughter was full of little squeaks and hiccups as Miguel’s claws descended to his hips again.

“Yeahhh, that’s not gonna cut it”, Miguel said with a sigh as one hand squeezed from Hobie’s hips up to his sides while the other squeezed from his sides down to his hips before they swapped, keeping Hobie in a horribly ticklish frenzy. “Come on~ all you gotta say is one little word and you’re free! Unless… unless you don’t want me to stop~”, he teased, smirking as he continued to tickle at a steady pace.

Hobie’s eyes widened at the implication, and he didn’t even wanna get into why it made him blush so goddamn much, but as it started to become more difficult to form cohesive thoughts, he finally gave in

“N-NahaHAha! Okahay OKAY! I’m sOHOrry! I’m sohorry! J-Just stohop! Plehease!”

Miguel smiled victoriously as he slowly ceased his tickling fingers. Using one claw, he ripped the webs that held Hobie in place, chuckling as the usually tough Spider Punk became nearly limp in the chair.

“You-“, Hobie started as he took deep breaths, fighting off residual giggles as his hips and sides still tingled “You. Are. Awful.”, he said, glaring at Miguel as he swiveled and propped his feet on the table again.

Miguel just shrugged, “And you’re a lot squeakier than I thought you’d be”, he shot back with a smile- a genuine smile.

Hobie sat in silence for a moment, still glaring, but as he looked at Miguel and saw that happy smile that was so rarely seen, he just huffed and went back to playing on his phone “Whatever”, he grumbled.

As Miguel stood there, still poking fun at Hobie, he thought to himself.

‘Maybe these kids really aren’t that bad…’

And as Hobie sat, pretending to ignore the older spider, he thought to himself as well.

Maybe he enjoyed spending time with Miguel…

..and maybe he really didn’t mind the tickling that much either.

________________

AHHH YAY THE FIRST OF A FEW REQUESTS!! I’m very happy with the way this one turned out, and I hope I did the request justice!

#OHHH SHIT I FINISHED IT #Y’all I love this one #I’m super happy with how it came out #sfw tickling community #sfw tickles #tickle fic #atsv tickle #spiderman tickle #lee!hobie #ler!miguel #implied lee Miguel #atsv tickle fic #tickle asks #tickle requests #fic request

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 8 months

Note

It bothers the hell out of me when no one talks about what George stacy? (whatever his name is) (gwens dad) pulling out a gun and was (probably) going to harm his own kid?? why is no one talking about? why is that scene so overlooked?? it's so fucking overlooked, call me whatever, but my gut has been screaming to me about it, it's so weird how overlooked it is, And I know it's not just me, but I also feel kike I know why and it sucks, I feel bad for gwen, I don't think she'll ever look at him that way and it's not being talked about as much.

NO DEADASS REALLY FOR REAL DEADASS

Like the implications of that scene are insane - if we question what he would've done, like it gets sickening.

Because he let out a warning shot, he's going by procedure. So if Gwen hadn't complied, what would he have done? If she 'resisted arrest' is he really ready to use force - A GUN on his own daughter.

He KNOWS she Spider-Gwen now. He's see what she can do - Gwen could probably dodge a bullet if she knew she was being shot at. Knowing that, he was doing that to get her to submit in fear, that hopefully his place as a cop would scare her into WHAT?? Giving herself up.

Gwen CAN'T.

This is NYC mind you.

If you get arrested in NYC they send you Riker's Island while you wait for trail. Riker's Island being the jail that inspired ARKHAM ASYLUM.

It's considered one of the foulest facilities in the country. Gwen is what, 16-17? Wanted for murder - the cops HATE her, the courts could easily trial her as an adult.

Was he REALLY ready to throw his 16 year old daughter into the most dangerous neglective hellish place the city has to offer? Was he ready to shoot her or worse?

WHAT WAS HE GONNA DO??? CAUSE WHATEVER IT WAS...HE SEEMED COMMITED TO DOING IT.

SIR WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO INFLICT UPON YOU INNOCENT CHILD - HOBIE GET THE GUITAR

No wonder she was gonna leave without talking to him. If Hobie hadn't come over, she would've rather been homeless on the streets rather than try and face her dad again - knowing it can end up MUCH worse.

Not knowing if he's looking for her to apologize or throw her in a cruiser he makes me SICKKKK BRUHH ITs NOT EVEN FUNNY AT THIS POINT

As soon as he started talking she had an attitude because she's still pissed about there. There's so much sadness there but anger too, cause like

How you deadass pull a gun on your only family??????????????

How you deadass about to send your daughter to a detention center or a jail OR MORE LIKELY COMPLETE SOLITARY. Consider her powers.

Like..... These movies want me to pat him and Peter B. on the back for a job well done when they BOTH let Gwen down. And Gwen has to come TO THEM to fix it (which I understand for her dad but Peter r u deadass)

Meanwhile Jefferson is doing TWENTY THOUSAND TIMES BETTER WTF

FUCK GEORGE STACY ALL MY HOBIES HATE GEORGE STACY JEFFERSON DAVIS IS A KIN

DO YOU THINK HED EVER PULL A GUN ON MILES NO!!!!!

#Sorry but MIles42 should punch Gwen's dad :)#Like he's normal now but he Must Repent #gwen stacy #spidergwen #spider gwen #george stacy #atsv discourse #atsv analysis #atsv #spiderman #spider man #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #miles morales

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dirtytransmasc · 11 months

Text

I've been thinking about what it might have been like if blond Peter Parker didn't die, like, if he got to mentor Miles, cause screw canon, I do what I want. (context; everything else happens, Peter B, Gwen, Noir, Penni, Spider Ham still show up. Goober still breaks. Rush to shut down the collider, etc. all that still happens, Blond Peters still there though)

the thought first and foremost in my mind, is that while in a playful manner, he is very protective and almost possessive of miles, in the "this is my kid from my dimension, I'm his mentor, he's my responsibility, I've had him for five minutes, but so help me god, anything happens to him I'm killing everyone here and than myself, look at him wrong, I will fight you" type of way, all the while keeping a friendly smile on his face, even if its slightly unnerving.

teases Miles about Gwen and his little crush on her, while also not exactly playing match maker cause he knows they're gonna be separated shortly. its a bittersweet thing for him.

he praises Miles so so so often, like, whenever he does anything, cause he knows Miles is scared and a kid and he needs to know he's doing a good job.

tries to protect his childhood and innocence, not wanting him to feel like he has to take up the mantle of spiderman just yet. always telling Miles that he "always gets up" cause he doesn't want Miles to feel like he has the responsibility of replacing him on his shoulders. this comes up more and more as they set out to destroy the collider.

always has a hand on Miles, mostly on his shoulder, so he knows his kid's fine and his kid knows he's not alone. he also does the forehead stroke, where he rests his hand on Miles's head and strokes his thumb over the center of his forehead. also also, he rests his elbow on the kids head, I don't know why, I just know he's that type of guy.

they hug a lot, mostly in the moment, when neither of them are really thinking. he just pulls miles into his side and squeezes him, which Miles ends up turning into real hugs after a while.

does the worried dad "check over" every time they escape a conflict. always asking if he's ok or just staring at him, trying to make sure he's ok. basically, he's a big worry wart.

"kid/kiddo" and "punk" are go-to's

when Miles is anxious, he stands closer to him, only touching when Miles leans into him.

held Miles when his uncle died, not letting him go through it alone.

gives him the "leap of faith" talk, alongside many other pep talks, cause the guy is good at those, before the collider, and gets to watch from a distance as Miles comes into himself as a spider man.

tries to keep Miles from the collider anyway, cause the stakes are too high, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything happened to Miles.

isn't surprised when Miles shows up anyway.

still has a near-death experience, leaving Miles to be the one to take down Kingpin, send everyone home, and shut down the collider. He wants to give up, badly, he's tired, but Miles needs him, is begging him to get up, just this one last time, and then Miles would be spiderman. Miles has to half drag him out to the streets.

he'd bring him to his dad, cause he's a kid, and the one person he's been able to lean on in this shitshow is half dead, and he's scared, so he finds his dad and comes clean out of desperation, begging him for help.

is one of the only people Peter actually wants to see while recovering, he stays at the hospital night after night just so he can be there for Peter, like Peter had been there for him, not letting anyone drag him out until after he's woken up, and even then, it's like pulling teeth to get him to so much as go to the caf to eat.

he spends whole days with Miles teaching him to cope with his spidey sense, use his webs, etc.

keeps him away from the big things, but lets him help out on patrol to give him a taste of the action.

takes hits for him, even if Miles tells him not to, cause that's his kid, and that's just what "dads" do.

when Miguel tries to recruit Peter, Peter is extremely protective of Miles, especially when he finds out he's technically an anomaly, making sure no one hurts him or undo any of the work he's done in terms of making Miles confident in himself and his abilities.

is in support of trying to save everyone, no matter what canon says, as he's literally the parental/mentor of a whole-ass anomaly and knows Miguel's theory is crap or at least mostly crap.

once everything sorted out, Spot and Miguel and Earth 42 wise, he ends up taking Miles 42 in as his own as well, and sticks around with Miles as (at least in my head, cause I say so) he stays with Miguel and HQ to be recruited.

Miles tells Miguel that Peter will ignore his own well being and pushed himself past his limits to protect Miles, because he thinks if he shows Miles weakness, the kid will feel like he has to replace him and will get stressed out/abandon what remains of his youth. he makes Miguel bench the two of them when Peter's not doing so hot so he can recover physically and emotionally.

Peter eats over at the Morales household once a week, assuring Miles's parents that he's safe with him every time.

insists on making Miles a suit for the colder months that's a little more cold resistant and when they're not in the suit, he's literally throwing coats at him.

kinda takes up the place in Miles's life that his uncle once held, being his safes pace, the person he turns to when it all goes to shit.

goes to Miles's school events.

if Miles falls asleep somewhere, like at HQ, Peter goes on guard like any dad, putting himself between Miles and the people around them so his sleep goes undisturbed.

do y'all want more of this, I might go somewhere with it if it does well.

#I'm so tired but I need this out of my head #this is probably only partly coherent #thats fine though #I think my regulars are used to that #and they're the only people who's opinions I care about #RIPeter parker #Blond Peter Parker #miles morales #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv #into the spider verse

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k4katsujin · 11 months

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ATSV CHARACTERS AT THE BEACH!!?!?!?!?!?!?!,

i just came (haha funny word) home from the beach and im hella exhausted but :3 it's been a while since i last posted smth "real" on here so there i go 🕺🏻

(apologies to @ukranianacearo im working on your request i promise my computer keeps dying and the heat make it hell to finish BUT we 🆙️ 🫡)

SO content :3 // headcanons only, miguel, hobie, both miles and peter b parker are included :D and indeed gender neutral reader,, enjoy 🕺🏻🫶🏼

also idk if that makes sense but reader is in a separate relationship with all the characters and slightly ooc everyone 🫡

☆ hobie is the one who proposed going to the beach and you'd be the only one who hyped him up. the hardest spidersociety's member to convince obviously being miguel, you ran to lyla to do so. (since he has a soft spot for her he said yes, not for fun but to watch on you and the others. (but he actually ends up having fun)

"come on, it'll be fun!plus, it would be a shame to not come since it's like 35 degrees outside, and it'd give you a well-deserved vacation"

+ he's the kind to throw you in the freezing water because he'd find it funny how you're mad at him afterwards (but you never stay mad at him for a long time because look at that man. he is a slut. (in a pretty way) + he's also the kind of boyfriend to carry you on his shoulders to like. idk what's that's called but like he'd have on his shoulders and fight another person on another's shoulders. (you would lose bc you didn't stop moving)

☆ miguel would be the grumpy kind for sure. he came there because he knew that'd make him happy and you know he can't help it when it comes to his sunshine <3 (guess lyla isn't his only soft spot X)) he would definitely hold you like a princess in the water and teach you how to swim if you don't know how to,, he'd even find it cute

(in a soft tone) "why do you want to go to the beach? to learn how to swim? OK i'll gladly teach you :D"

and then he'd just turn into the softest teacher ever bc it'd remind him of teaching his daughter. eventually you didn't succeed at learning how to swim, but at least you spent a very wholesome moment together :D

☆peter would be the crackhead dad XD i js feel like you'd be the one watching him and mayday and even help him teach mayday to swim :3 + he'd be like super hyper because going to the beach isn't something he does often bc of his spiderman job and stuff so :3

"what did you say?? you want to go to the beach with me and mayday?? YES PLEASE. ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE I HAD ANY FORM OF ENTERTAINMENT."

☆ 1610 miles would be so hype bc he never went to the beach before, so going with his partner for the first time? he sure is happy :D

"wait?!?!?! is this a kind of date? this is so cool!!!"

but then the heat would just make you too tired to actually swim so you'd just chill, like cuddles and stuff

☆earth 42 miles wouldn't be hyped at first because he's more of an indoors person, like to him going outside when it's already hot us unuseful

"don't you want to stay inside? not gonna lie, im a bit lazy to go out right now."

but he accepts, and he had more fun than he would ever admit

the two last ones seem hurried im sorry 😭😭😭

but :> hope you enjoyed!

please reblog it helps a lot with reach, please, and thank you!

#kaheri's chronicles #x reader #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #spiderman across the spiderverse #lgbtq #across the spiderverse #peter b parker #peter parker #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #miles molares #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales #marvel 1610

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1-up-chump · 11 months

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SO im supposed to clear up those mortal kombat asks but spiderman brainrot real, I'll get to them but first i need to get this out of my head.

(IMSOSORRYICOULDNTFINDGOODGIFSSOHAVESTATICIMAGESPLZFORGIVE)

The spider-men reacting to you calling them "friend shaped"

Miles:

He's all smiles, he knows he's the "friendly neighborhood spiderman" but being referred to as "shaped" like a friend just flatters him in a way that makes him think about it the whole day.

Gwen:

Laughs a bit awkwardly but dont be fooled, she's flattered being called "friend shaped" she just doesn't know how to respond to it at the moment. It makes her day.

Peter b:

"No u"

He's flattered but he's THE friendly neighborhood spiderman so its "obvious" but really, he definitely calls you "friend shaped" in return. And now its totally a thing between you two.

Hobie:

Hobie smiles and appreciates the compliment, on the inside though he's dancing because you genuinely did make his day with that. What with all the fighting, both the establishment and super villains (which are basically the same thing, in his eyes)

pavitr:

You opened up a whole new phrase to him and now he won't stop calling himself nor you "friend shaped". He loved it so much you may or may not regret it but he's just really happy.

Miguel:

Despite appearing like he brushes off your compliment, he thinks about it later in the day and smiles fondly on it. Trying to not let his walls down for his sake and everyone else's, but you found a way to crawl inside his heart and live rent free. Much to his annoyance when lyla points out he's being awfully happy around you.

#spiderman #spiderverse #miles Morales #spider gwen #gwen stacy #peter b parker #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #miguel o'hara #x reader #xreader

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xxkookiexx · 1 year

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Currently writing full fanfiction on Atsv with a male reader X Miguel, so of course I gotta post it on tumblr ;) if you wanna check out more chapters I post more on wattpad - @Captain_Lurling

A Glitch in the System

𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙊'𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙖 𝙓 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝙎𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨, 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩, 𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮, 𝙈/𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩💕

𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 ‼️

If you haven't watched Across the Spider Verse go watch it before reading, if so carry on.

..••°°°°••..

"No, no, no-M/n! M/n! M/n? Just breath, you're alright. We're gonna fix this and you'll be fine. Okay? Everything will be fine."

"Miguel...You can't."

"No, no, no, no-NO! M/n, don't say that! Jess, we have to do something!"

"𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰."

The Spider-society created by Miguel O'Hara is an elite group that assists in the capture of strayed anomaly's and returning them to their rightful dimension. M/n L/n has been with them since the beginning and has helped the group as much as he could, even with his questionable relationship wth their leader, that doesn't stop him from protecting others in need.

After Miles Morales finds himself at Headquarters, he's stuck with the choice of doing what's right and what he believes in but with the small support he's shown, he doesn't know who to trust.

M/n wants to help as much as he can, but whether or not he survives long enough to help the boy is the real question...

°°••....••°°

part.1 - part.2 - part.3 - part.4 - part.5 - part.6 - part.7 - part.8 - part.9

Whenever M/n would try to find Miguel, he was always in the same spot in front of the same screens watching the same videos of him and his daughter. The beautiful girl Miguel had lost from his stupidity in replacing his killed version of that dimension and thinking nothing would go wrong. Well something did go wrong, the dimension started unraveling and everyone was wiped out including his daughter.

To see the man close himself off and continue to dwell on the loss of his daughter, M/n felt lost himself. He knew the only way he could be there with him was to give him the space he needed, but there was only so much time before something would happen to him too.

Somewhere in HQ...

A small tune could be heard outside one of the many rooms that aligned with each other and a light illuminating from under the door into the darkness. It was late and mostly everyone was either back in their dimension or asleep in their respected dorm. Inside was the basic layout of a university dorm room: a bed in the corner, a desk against the wall and a lamp shining onto the spread papers with a pen that tapped against the wood.

The person hummed as they tinkered with a small gadget that sparked every few seconds and he bopped his head to the music, the dark shades covering his eyes. He reached to grab a small tool to adjust something and hummed in satisfaction.

A watch was securely tied around his left hand, its screen showing multiple buttons and stats of whatever it was analysing. Everyone who came to this dimension had one, and was a part of the 'elite' spider squad that Miguel O'Hara had formed and the watches helped them travel on command. It was to also stop them from glitching out.

If you were just a visitor like Peter B. Parker's daughter Mayday, then you'd get a blue bracelet called the 'day pass' which wasn't the same as the watch but helped you stay solid in this world.

After a few more touches, the man lifted off the glasses and grinned, bringing the device up to his face to closely inspect it. It was an addition to his suit, something that would help in the future in case he ran out of web.

He brought it to his chest and it automatically started connecting to his suit before thinning out and light moving towards his back and suddenly disappearing. Letting out a satisfied huff, he picked up a few tools before his watch beeped and up popped Lila.

"Backup needed, I'll send you Miguel's location." Before she disappeared. He paused, then groaned and stood up to grab his mask and bring his watch up to input the dimension.

The portal opened and M/n stared at it and with a roll of his eyes shoved his mask on and jumped up, shooting web into the portal and pulling himself in.

Around him was all space and different dimensions but M/n shot through the red tube that led him to the required dimension, the one that most likely had a villain who was in the wrong world. He flew out of the portal and had to quickly propel his body over the flying vulture that screamed as it rammed into the wall behind him.

"Oh great, another one?" It yelled and M/n shot web upwards to land on the railing and look over head to see Jess Drew on her bike and riding towards the villain and a spider person he hadn't seen before in a white suit with a hood.

"Glad you could finally make it," A familiar voice and M/n turned to see Miguel with his mask on, running towards him.

"I only just got the call for backup, gimme some air, Miguel." M/n shrugged as his eyes observed the room, it was a museum from all the hanging artefacts but that vulture certainly wasn't a registered item.

Miguel sighed and jumped on the railing to help the others. "Just give us a hand will you? That thing can fly and is aggressive for us to handle. It's got bombs that are blowing up the area." He informed and jumped off to lay a hit on the anomaly.

M/n nodded and flicked his wrists to crank up his web shooters before jumping off. "Got it." He flipped a bit and landed on Drews bike, soaring towards vulture who snarled at the slim spider person and M/n shot web onto his arm that was about to strike and pulled himself around its body before projecting himself forward to land a harsh kick on its face.

The fight lasted a few minutes at most when the vulture threw up bombs in the sky and fly up with Miguel on its back. Miguel pulled back his mask was about to bite the vulture in the sky but a helicopter flashed its lights forcing him to put the mask back on and tell them to get out of there. the villain Took its chance and twisted its arms, sending bombs over towards the helicopter.

Miguel shouted 'No!' as it exploded and began to descend into the museum.

"Shit, how do we stop that?" M/n glanced at Miguel and Jess, his eyes wide then looking down at the civilians yelling in a panic. The other spider person in the white suit stopped before they started to create a web that could catch the helicopter and if the scene was in slow motion, that's how M/n was deceiving it.

The trio caught on to the person's plan and they each shot webs around the spinning helicopter and pulled with all their strength to slow the thing down, M/n could hear the people's cries and they all ducked to protect themselves.

M/n grunted and twisted the web around his wrists for more effectiveness as the helicopter came to a harsh stop right above the web and above the people. The building started to collapse and M/n knew he'd had to help the people on the floor so carefully tying the web to a small pipe sticking out, he jumped down to assist moving everyone while Miguel and Jess dealt with the old vulture.

Soon enough the top began caving in and M/n had to fly himself out of harm's way and towards the others right as a bunch of the building slammed onto the ground, dust flying up instantly and a piece of stone hitting M/n in the face.

He yelped and grabbed his broken face with a groan as the air became quiet and still. Miguel and Jess saw the spider girl standing above them with a proud stance.

"That's what I was gonna kill." Miguel said to himself in annoyance and the girl collapsed backwards.

M/n panted and reached up to pull his mask off to reveal the purple bruise that was forming on his cheek. He touched it with a wince catching Miguel's attention quickly who came over to gently lift his hand to M/n's cheek.

"You alright?" Miguel asked and M/n chuckled and nodded, "It's my fault I didn't move in time."

Miguel rolled his eyes under the mask even if M/n couldn't see. It happened often that M/n was careless and got himself hit but he would end and say getting hit was the goal.

It definitely wasn't.

Moving around the sulking man, Miguel walked around where he heard commotion and saw the spider woman with her mask off and a cop in front of her; her dad. He had his gun hauled up and as threatening the girl until web shot out and snatched the gun, Miguel jumping over with the vulture in his arms as he sent over a trap that locked him in a red circle that they used for capturing anomaly's.

The captain shouted and banged his hands on the shield, the girl yelling for her dad but Jess grabbed her before she could.

"Hey hey, just breath." She reassured her. "We got you." Before looking at Miguel who put down the vulture and sighed.

"Lyla. Scan this mess." M/n came up beside Miguel while Lyla scanned the area and told them there wasn't any more anomaly's. The man tapped on his watch and up opened the portal that would take them all back to Headquarters.

Miguel hauled up vulture and threw him in the portal while Jess tried to convince him to take the girl with them. "We can't just leave her here. She's doing this all on her own." The pair stayed silence and M/n clenched his fists at seeing her gaze at her father.

"I don't know how to fix this." The small mumble came from her and Jess turned to give Miguel a look while he looked away with squinted eyes. M/n hit Miguels arm with his own and nodded to the girl with a raised brow.

Miguel thought for a bit then threw her a watch. "Well, join the club." He mumbled.

The blonde glanced at the watch with a conflicted expression, the trio finally walking back through the portal leaving her alone with the decision to make. But Gwen knew what the right choice was to make.

So she followed them.

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman #Jess drew #miles morales #Gwen Stacy #Hobie brown #angst #tumble #atsv #malereader #spiderman-across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse

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hobiebrownismygod · 5 months

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Camp spidey!hobie has like a jumbo pack of spider stickers and temporary tattoos and just keeps giving them to random kids so one day jess and peter wake up and for some reason all the campers are just decked in arachnid drip.

-Jayce

Jess and Peter B. couldn't handle the swagger of fifteen dripped out tweens

I imagine pav would've put it on, got scared because he thought it was permanent and tried to scratch it off. His arm was covered in marks and when Jess saw it she freaked out and called his aunt.

also gwen put one on right in the middle of he forehead and then margo did the same and now they both look terrifying

miles-42 (who prolly has severe arachnophobia) keeps getting jumpscared by the spider he put on his arm cuz every time he looks over his brain thinks its real for a split second

Miles-1610 keeps telling 42 he has a spider crawling on him just to fuck with him 💀

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #pavitr my beloved #pavitr prabhakar #hobie my beloved #[silvia's asks]#gwen stacy #margo kess #miles morales #prowler miles #jessica drew #peter b. parker

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battlekidx2 · 1 year

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Across the Spider Verse Thoughts

Across the spider verse was my most anticipated movie of 2023. I came in with sky high expectations and yet somehow the movie managed to surpass them.

By the end of the opening sequence across the spider verse had me sold that this was going to be one of my favorite spider-man movies and when the movie finished that belief held true. Spider-Man across the spider verse is easily one of my favorite superhero movie sequels of all time (I actually think it might be my favorite). The movie just came out and I’ve already seen it, what my brother has dubbed, “too many times” (Though I vehemently disagree with him on that point).

It’s a movie sold on its scope and love for all of spider-man and his lore and yet it never loses its heart in the spectacle. It manages to be a fantastic middle chapter to what is quickly becoming one of my favorite film series of all time.

There’s a lot I want to talk about so I’m just going to get right into it.

Miles is a great protagonist

Miles Morales is a character that I felt Into the Spider Verse really elevated. I had read all of the ultimate comics spider-man run that was his debut series and, while I liked Miles, he was never in the top tier of my favorite superheroes, but that quickly changed with Into the Spider Verse. They managed to explore his struggle and hesitance to accept the Spider-man mantle in a way that was far more compelling than his comic book counter part.

Across the Spider Verse takes the already really strong basis that Into the Spider Verse created for Miles and builds on it through a brilliant meta narrative on what it means to be spider-man and asking the question of whether or not Miles really is spider-man.

Trauma is so ingrained into the creation and growth of spider-man as a character. Ask anyone to list what the most iconic moments in spider-man comics are and you are bound to get answers that include uncle ben’s death, the death of gwen stacy, the death of Jean DeWolfe, Captain Stacy’s death, etc.

There are a lot of moments of loss within the spider-man mythos that define the character and these moments are carried over into a lot of spider-man media outside of the comics. Miles’ rejection of this narrative and the necessity of loss to make a hero in this movie is what truly makes him become spider-man.

The first movie had him accepting the mantle but this is where he truly grows into the role.

Outside of the mask Miles is a unique and three dimensional character as well.

Miles has a youthful charm and good heart that feels authentic to a high schooler that has yet to experience a lot of what life has to offer without falling into feeling like a middle schooler or a caricature of a teenager like MCU Peter Parker tends to do at certain points in his trilogy.

I think this is displayed really well in his relationship with Gwen. There’s an innocence and inexperience there that shows that this is his (an her) first attempt at a real relationship but it never feels surface level because the movie does a great job at selling their bond and how they are similar in key ways that makes it so the understanding they find in one another feels natural.

This elevates the betrayal he feels when it’s revealed that Gwen and Peter B Parker knew everything Miguel reveals to him the whole time and it makes his goodbye to Gwen all the more impactful.

Another relationship I want to shed light on is the one Miles has with his parents.

Miles’ bond with both his parents in this movie is phenomenal but the relationship that is really allowed to shine is the one between Miles and his mother, Rio.

I loved the expansion of Rio Morales’ role. In the first movie she was a memorable but underused character (understandably) and her relationship to Miles took a backseat to his relationship to his father. But here we get to see their unique bond and her attempts to understand him and learn to give him the space he needs to grow into his own person. It felt earned that she was the one he was going to reveal his identity to first before it was revealed that the Rio he told wasn’t from his universe.

As it stands Miles’ arc isn’t complete, but what is shown and the place he is left in make for a strong set up for the finale of this three part story. I have complete faith that this trilogy will stick the landing and provide satisfying conclusions to the arcs and relationships that have been set up. Miles has really become one of the best iterations of the spider-man character and one of my favorites to hold the mantle. I can’t wait to see what they do with him in the next movie.

Gwen’s increased role

One of my favorite changes from the first movie is the amount of emphasis put on Gwen and her arc.

I knew after Into the Spider Verse that if they were going to make a sequel Gwen would likely have a much bigger role considering the seeds they planted to have her connection to Miles grow and the fact that where she was on her journey as a spider-person had her in the perfect place to be a foil to him moving forward. It felt like a natural progression, but even knowing that and having read the Spider-Gwen comics, the way the movie utilized her was better than I ever could have hoped.

Across the Spider Verse took the potential for Gwen as a character and foil for Miles and ran with it by creating a duality in how their arcs compare to one another.

The opening sequence very purposefully made her a dark parallel to Miles, a cautionary tale of what could go wrong if he unmasks himself to his parents and an extreme case of the isolation he could experience throughout his journey. But also just like Miles she’s very early on in her journey as Spider-woman. She’s not even out of high school so many of her canon events haven’t happened yet and, like she learns later on in the film, her story isn’t set in stone.

She’s on that same journey of self discovery and forging your own path that Miles is and having this contrast between them elevates both their arcs.

She’s not just an amazing foil for Miles. She’s also an excellent vehicle for the movie’s themes.

Across the spider verse is centered around themes of isolation, fate, the weight of life, and making your own path and, while Miles is undoubtedly the protagonist of the feature, Gwen is the one the movie tells a complete arc with surrounding these themes.

Her loneliness was hinted at in the first movie but it’s put on full display here with the opening 20 minutes hammering home just how isolated she is in her world and how much the loss of Peter Parker and her role in his death has effected her.

Gwen lacks any sort of support system at the start of the movie. Even before the showdown with Vulture there’s a disconnect between her and her police captain father that stems from the fact that he’s leading the hunt for Spider-woman, her alter ego, because he believes she killed Peter. She struggles to open up to anyone else and make friends in her world because of her life as spider-woman and how intrinsically tied it is to her issues. And she’s lost the only people she feels could understand her with no way that she knows of to see them (particularly Miles) again.

The opening culminates with Gwen losing the last person she has left in her own world when her father tries to arrest her after she unmasks herself to him and she flees her world to join Miguel’s spider society.

This all sets up a very powerful arc dealing with her loneliness and struggles with doing the right thing in the face of her fear of rejection and loss where she finally really opens up to other people and “starts her own band” to stand against Miguel O’Hara through her connection with Miles and desire to help him as well as her reconciliation with her father.

This movie asks questions about whether or not trauma and loss are necessary to make you spider-man so it’s significant that it is instead through healing from parts of her trauma, reconnecting with her father, and making genuine connections that Gwen is able to grow as a hero. It says a lot about what this movie believes makes someone “spider-man”.

Another moment in Gwen’s arc that exemplifies what the movie believes makes a hero is actually Gwen’s reconciliation with her father where he reveals he quit the force. That moment proves that Miguel’s belief is wrong and that breaking the canon isn’t the end of the multiverse as they know it. This coupled with the fact that it’s Gwen’s speech about her desire to do what’s right and protect those she loves that gets her father to quit tells you everything this movie is trying to say about heroism. It’s not the loss and trauma that makes you spider-man but the character of the person behind the mask.

The opening also does a great job of establishing just how much Miles impacted Gwen in the first movie. He broke through this wall of isolation she put around herself and for the first time in a long while she found a genuine connection with someone who could understand and know all of her. It sells you immediately on how much this bond means to her and makes her conflict moving forward really compelling.

This relationship is a linchpin in the narrative of this film so if it didn’t work then the impact the movie’s story and themes would have been severely hampered.

If I’m being honest Gwen’s arc is where the movie hit me the hardest. I think everyone has dealt with loneliness and that feeling of isolation that can come from being different and/or grief. There’s always that underlying desire for understanding and community that many people fear they’ll never have and seeing that portrayed in Gwen hit for me.

It’s the kind of desire I know I feared I would never get, but when I left home and went out on my own I was finally able to find people who understood me and accepted my idiosyncrasies in a way no one ever had before. And I always get emotional when I see that same isolation I felt portrayed in such a raw way and when those characters I see it in finally find the connection they need.

It’s also this isolation that goes a long way to explain why so many spider-people would join Miguel’s task force and go along with his plans. There’s a sense of community where all these people who have lost so much can find other people who understand them. That understand their unique form of grief, loss, and isolation that they struggle to find anywhere else because of the path they chose to take with their life. And won’t reject the half of them they are usually forced to hide from those they care about. Without showing this through Gwen’s perspective the last act of the film could have felt forced.

Gwen is a strong character that really grew into her role as the deuteragonist of the film and the role of spider-woman and serves to strengthen the themes of the film. She’s a great character that has so much potential moving forward and I look forward to her role and eventual reunion with Miles in Beyond the Spider Verse.

The animation

It’s no secret that spider verse changed the animation industry after it came out. Before spider verse many animated movies had started to feel like they fell into a very similar style that focused on realism above all else and in many ways I felt didn’t fully capitalize on what animation could do as a medium (there were exceptions but a lot of studios were starting to lean on the Disney/Pixar animation style). But now there are shows and movies that are taking a page out of spider verse’s book and experimenting. Studios are less afraid to let their animators get creative and it’s been incredible to see.

Across the Spider Verse continues to push the envelope and goes beyond what they did with the first one to create one of the most visually stunning movies I’ve ever seen.

The way they experimented with the animation in different dimensions to bring comic book art styles to life (Gwen’s universe) and further accentuate the character and culture they are centered around (Hobie and Pavitr’s universes) really served to elevate the story, heighten the emotions of every scene, and make this truly feel like a multiversal epic.

One of my favorite visual flares in the movie is how color is used in Gwen’s universe. In the opening it really plays up the stark divide she feels between her and everyone else. She feels like she’s completely separate from the world around her through the very deliberate contrast in coloring and the way the background bleeds and morphs around her. She’s frequently portrayed in shades of blue while the world around her is full of vibrant pinks, oranges, and white.

I also love how the paint like aesthetic of her world’s backgrounds are used to heighten the emotions of scenes like the talks she has with her father. The background bleeds and the colors morph to reflect the emotions of the characters talking. When Gwen is desperately trying to reach out to her father in the beginning after she unmasks herself and at the end when she admits how powerless she feels to protect those she cares about the background starts to run and the colors bleed together and it captures how her world is falling apart and her path forward is no longer clear.

I also want to point out how the lighting is one of the major hints that Miles isn’t on earth-1610. The lighting of every scene from the moment Miles is sent to earth-42 is some shade of purple or green which immediately gives the world a different feel than Miles’. It’s not so noticeable at first that it gives away the twist but it’s enough that it gives you an uneasy feeling the first time through and it’s details like these that elevate the reveal on rewatch.

This level of care and attention to detail permeates every frame of the film. There isn’t a single second of this movie that is wasted and it really uses the medium of animation to its fullest potential.

I can’t wait to see what they have in store for us in Beyond the Spider Verse. If it’s anything like this then it will be amazing.

conclusion

Spider-man is far and away my favorite hero. I’ve read many of his comic book runs, I own all his movies and video games, I’ve seen all his shows, etc. I’m the massive fan that probably understood way too many obscure references that this movie made and I loved every second of the movie I got to see.

I had so much fun with this movie and I hope everyone who watched the movie managed to get some enjoyment out of it. I can’t wait for Beyond the Spider Verse to come out and to finally get to see the conclusion to this animated trilogy.

side note

Spider-man is a character that is able to speak to a wide range of people because of the struggles he faces. Having a movie that understands the diversity of the people who relate to the character and reflect that on screen through the many (canonical) spider-people portrayed is amazing.

I love that so many people will get to see someone like them being the hero they admire. Stan Lee himself said that anyone can wear the spider-man mask. He wanted people to be able to see themselves in the heroes he created which was the basis of spider-man (and the x-men but that’s another story). And that’s something that I will always love about the character.

#across the spider verse #atsv #miles morales #gwen stacy #peter parker #miguel o'hara #hobie brown #spider-punk #pavitr prabhakar #spoilers #this movie is amazing #animation #sony animation

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