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marvels-bitch-boy · 9 months

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The Scarlet Spiders:

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I was gonna wait until I had the 10th chapter finished but I couldn't wait to give you guys more

Masterlist , Chapter 4: Something Amiss

Chapter 3: Cracks In A Web

Just to end everyone's overwhelming concern...-just pretend to be- I made it back to the city unscathed. I refuse to go back to Feast. I did however find some access to a laptop... hack some stuff and was able to confirm a transfer spot into the Queens High School for the Sciences, had to at least get my spot back.

- - -

Walking into a school office he once knew made Degan feel empty. He didn't have any connections he once had, he was alone in a place that he felt was his second home. Sitting in a chair outside a principal's office he'd never met before. Staring at kids who wore uniforms he'd never even seen before. His knee bounced up and down as though it was a perpetual motion machine. One of the shortest questions Degan has heard in his life snapped him out of his head. "Mr King?" his head spun towards the voice and he scanned the man's face as fast as he could and produced a smile. "Sir, it's nice to meet you Mr Morita" he held out his hand for the man. This took the man aback for a moment before he produced a smile of his own and took the hand, opening the door even wider for the boy to enter. "Mr King, your record so far looks impeccable." he closes the file in front of him and looks at the boy curiously "I do have to ask why you suddenly decided to transfer?"

Taking in a large breath he racked his mind, thinking over the following days "I realized I wasn't being challenged enough at my last school, science is my passion and I want to make sure I'm at the best place for it" giving a nonchalant smile he turns his head towards the window that looks out at the hallway with students walking around. "It already feels like I belong here" Principal Morita gives him a warm smile before getting up and making his way to the door. "Well, I'm glad." the door opens and a smiling face greets Degan from the doorway "Hopefully you'll feel even better once you get a tour," gesturing to the girl smiling "this is Chrissy, one of our welcome members on the student council".

"Hi! You must be Degan!" she waves and he feels his eyes widen and brows raise. This was not something he expected. "You don't have a uniform yet, but that's the first stop." Degan opens his mouth to object but is quickly shut down by the bright girl shining her smile at him "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll look great" getting up he hesitantly followed the girl.

- - -

Shit Shit Shit. Not only do I now need a uniform but I also have to get a tour and talk to someone... something I hate. She kept smiling and waving to people. So much friendliness.

- - -

Stepping out of the changing room he begrudgingly put on the navy blue blazer. Catching his reflection he felt like he was seeing a stranger, his wavy hair had begun to straighten itself, and his eyes felt sunken in more than they usually did. He tugged on the collar and forced a smile once his tour guide turned to him. She squealed and his face went from uncomfortable to eyes wide in fear. "You look perfect. Like actually perfect" She stood up and opened the door out into the hallway and beckoned him to join. "C'mon, You have Wells for your first class." walking to the door in the most uncomfortable shoes possible, in a tie that feels more constricting than any time he's been choked by Scorpion. Stepping into a hallway he's walked a million times felt like amnesia, the colour of the lockers was the same, and the student's faces passed by unlike any he's seen before. As he walked he felt a spidey sense go off in the smallest of proportions he thought it was simply a phone vibration. Taking one step forward he then collided with a flurry of dirty blonde hair that almost fell backwards. Catching her by her arm he just stared at her and helped get her back up to her feet. Not saying a word and just avoiding her gaze he continued on with his tour. Scurrying away he could only hear a small "thanks" as her voice left his ears.

"Here's your locker, you can put your clothes in for after school" focusing back on the face of the girl in front of him, he noticed more of her appearance. She had fluffy brown hair that matched that of cocoa, and dimples that flashed every time she spoke and smiled... so they seemed to appear often.

"Thanks" shoving the pile he had tucked into his side now into the large metal locker. Turning around he found the girl with dirty blonde hair eyeing him up like a prize at a county fair. She had a smile on her that was skewed to one side, her eyes were green and they held a certain glint to them. Degans eyes followed up and down as she surveyed him too, seemingly understanding what was happening as they kept the focus on each other. "Okay, well I'll save you a seat...in room 9" his attention was now on the brown eyes that followed the smile and dimples as they turned and walked away. Looking back at the blonde, he found her to be making her way towards him. The smile on her lips didn't change at all and the glint in her eyes only seemed to get brighter.

"Where did you drop in from?" her voice was one that screamed mischief from a rooftop. Degan only cocked a brow and turned back to his locker. she leaned against the lockers next to him and stared intently into his eyes. "C'mon, let me thank my hero somehow"

"I'm okay, I'd rather you pretend I don't exist" closing his locker and walking away he could feel her eyes tied to him as he walked.

Keeping his head down he didn't even need to ask for directions on the way to his first class, he'd already memorized the layout on his first day... his other first day.

His head perked up for only a moment when a voice pierced his ears. He knew who it belonged to from before he even saw the back of her head. Before he saw her giant curls of chestnut hair. Before he saw her turn around and face him with a smile that he had missed for ages. It was the smile that he was greeted with after almost every patrol, the smile that he found himself wanting to be near every day after resenting it for over a year. A small smile perched at the corner of his lips before this reality came crashing down on his brain as it seemed to always do. "Pete!" she called out. Fuck. His head fell and his lips almost crumbled off his face onto the linoleum floor beneath his feet that propelled him forward. He continued until he almost bumped into the blonde from earlier. She caught his hand as she manoeuvred around him. How is she doing this? They landed in a position that interlocked their hands and ended with him leaning against a set of lockers that decked out the hallway. "Look who it is...," her voice purred in his ears, she looked down at his hand with that mischievous glint and gave it a small squeeze "you sure you want me to pretend you don't exist?" pairing her eyes with a smirk it was almost difficult for him to break away from her. Almost.

Tearing his hand from hers he had a thought 'What if MJ saw?'. That was before he forced himself to remember the situation, she would never see. She would never see him here. She no longer thought of him. No longer searched a crowd for his face, never searched the police scanners to hear if he was alright, never texted him about a new recipe for date nights, and never was a part of her world. He found his eyes drifting away from the blonde in front of him back to the sandy brown and matching curly hair girl who he just so happened to also catch her eye. "No, no lover boy, that's Parker's girl... more like Parker's her boy actually. Either way, she's off limits..." Using one of her fingers from her perfectly manicured set to shift his gaze back on her with the smile she gave him when they first locked eyes. "Me on the other hand...I'm Felicia," taking his hand once again she practically dragged him off and through the door, he was just heading towards. "You'll be next to me" she took a seat that wasn't too far away from the front to not appear like she wasn't paying attention, but not too close as to draw too much attention to herself. She motioned for the seat next to her but instead, he rolled his eyes and moved to the seat directly in front of her. If he was going to last here without MJ he would need someone assertive but he also wasn't going to let her boss him around like he was her toy.

A few seconds later Chrissy walked in with a binder that had papers sticking out of it like a mad scientist had been the previous owner. Taking notice of Degan she huffed and picked up all the items that had been organized on the desk 3 rows over and sheepishly moved them to be next to him. "I told you I'd save you a seat..." she seemed rather embarrassed and blue. The sound of a small laugh coming from behind him caused Degan to shoot a rather testy look at Felicia. He turned back to the bright-eyed girl who seemed to be trying her best to make him comfortable and welcomed -in her mind, he'd never faced the horrors of a new york magnet school...- he softened his eyes and gave her an apologetic smile "I'm sorry, this bobcat seemed to be gunning for me and pulled me here," he snuck a glance at the blonde and then back at dimples that now seemed to appear with a grateful smile "Don't worry, she only looks like a bobcat... inside she's a little tabby" Felicia didn't have to say anything but the roll of her eyes themselves was enough.

During this interaction, other students had been slowly trickling into the room. Degan kept his head only slightly up as he waited for class to start and his eyes caught the same hair from the hallway, the same smile and eyes that used to be so familiar. She took a seat near the back, and the boy who she was smiling at in the hallway took the seat in front of her. She'd never let him do that, he'd always sit next to her or behind her.

- - -

What the fuck, who is this Felicia girl? Why the hell is she so interested in me and forcing me to be her friend? Also, my teacher already gave me a giant packet of work to do... not that I can't do it but it's not science, it's god damn AP World History. I'm great at it but I hate doing the work... Anyway now though I have a second class of the day and that is mathematics -specifically calculus. I can sit in the back and figure out the whole reason I'm here, or even how I got here. Finally peace.

- - -

The fluffy brown hair appeared in his peripheral vision and placed itself right next to our spider. Keeping to himself Degan had chosen a seat all the way in the back, he knew it would put him at risk of losing any class participation but he could ace this class in his sleep. He wasn't worried. As the sound of his music beats on in his head, he began to think about the words that Bruce had said

"I'm sorry to say this but we currently have no way of getting you home. The only theory right now is to wait for another one of those multiversal sinkholes... to well open up again. I'm sorry"

"No way of getting you home."

The greatest mind he's ever known doesn't even think he can get home. The man who taught him pretty much everything he knew was left with no answers. This whole experience was starting to feel like some kind of cosmic joke on him. He was finally happy with MJ, they were talking about colleges, possibly even a full-time Avengers spot. But that was all gone now. The chances of them coming back were almost slim to none. The music in his head began to fade as he thought for longer. It seemed to mould into his thoughts.

"You have lunch?" Degan felt his consciousness fling back into his body like a slingshot. Looking at the brown-haired girl with confusion he shook his head no. "you can have some of mine, we can sit together" he seemed to be deliberating this option in his head and as Chrissy waited for a response she brought out her packed lunch and set it on the table. "Doesn't have to be in public, just here if you want?" This made a small smile appear on degans face for the first time since getting here, the other smiles were all for appearance, this one was as real as a soldier trapped in time. The two of them sat there for a moment and she began to open the bag and spill the contents across the small desk. There was a sandwich cut in half, a bag of chips, Oreos, and two granola bars. She handed Degan one-half of the paper bag and placed exactly half of the meal on it. Neither one of them had more or less than the other.

"So, tell me about yourself. What do you do for fun?" she took a bite of her sandwich and stared at him with interest. He felt like he was being interviewed for one of the lamest talk shows. "I like to watch movies, see art, and sometimes I like to cook," he hesitantly took a bite of his own food "Not really a lot to talk about". He could tell by the look on her face that it was indeed a lot to talk about. "Excuse me! You can cook and you like art?" he nodded at her question "Would you cook for me someday?" he let out a small chuckle at her request.

"No -sorry I don't cook for other people..." he thought of the nights he'd spend hours perfecting the recipes that MJ would send him, sometimes they tasted awful but that was part of the fun of it. "What about you? What do you do for fun?" shifting the conversation away from himself he decided to get to know his new friend. Her eyes lit up when he asked her and she had to straighten her posture before speaking "I love to just lay on the floor sometimes, staring at the ceiling," it was obvious by how she was answering that she doesn't get asked this a lot "it helps me think... -especially when I get stuck on homework".

Degan didn't mind listening to her, he didn't mind if she was the only one who talked. He hated talking. Except when he was patrolling, that's when he was his happiest. Swinging around the city his mind was free, and he gets to think. It's his variation of laying on the floor. He understood what it meant for her, especially finally having someone to talk to about it. So he let her. She ended up talking for the rest of lunch. When the bell rang she quickly finished her food and said her byes. Degan stood and gathered his bag, leaving the room he walked down the hall and felt a pair of eyes stuck on him. Looking around he couldn't find the eyes until he made a complete one-eighty and his eyes landed on a pair of brown eyes that he once recognized but still carry a warmth that will forever hold a place in his heart. Seeing her, he found himself stuck in place unable to move his heart began to speed up, and the pace that his mind reached felt inhuman. She wasn't his and she had never been his here, she averted her eyes from him and went back to talking to the shorter boy in front of her. Degans eyes focused now on the boy, taking in his stature and the way he comfortably talked to the girl in front of him. He seemed like a friend.

- - -

Maybe if I had been born in this universe he would be my friend... Maybe I'd actually have friends. To be honest, MJ was one of my only friends. I had one other though... his name was -well I think you know his name, currently, he goes by "Nova". Sometimes he's a prick and can't tell when someone hasn't spoken in hours because he's too busy talking about food or some kind of sport. Now that I think about it... he's a lot like Chrissy but less sweet and she can't blow up a whole RV by accident on the annual road trip... I AM STILL NOT OVER THAT!!

-sorry. Too emotional but I can't help it. I don't exist in this universe... honestly what if I don't exist in any other one but my own. I hope I do... I hope I'm different in them. I hope that she's with me, I hope that I'm not alone.

#Scarlet Spiders M-B-B #M-B-B #marvel #mcu #x male reader #oc #marvel OC #mcu oc #Scarlet Spider #Degan King #Michelle Jones #Peter Parker #Felicia Hardy #Black Cat #black cat marvel

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shockedemojiatsv · 3 months

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▪︎■☆Puppy☆■▪︎

☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞

☆ Amab!bot!Ben Reilly / male!dom!reader

☆ 1k words

☆ late and short (mental dilemmas 😔)

☆ contains overstimulation, dubcon, slight masosado implied, puppy play, drinking of seminal fluids, just being mean to my little Benny baby in general :3

°○☆🔞nsfw under the cut🔞☆○°

"Fuck.." You whispered underneath your breath when his weeping cock twitched again. Cum spurting out in salty white blobs dripping from his pathetically overstimulated genitalia. It was cute. Seeing him shiver and squirm and try to act unfazed by his 3rd orgasm. His eyes narrow as he pants, sweat trickling down his face as his mouth shapes itself into a grin.

Oh he's being cocky now is he?

"Is that all you've got?" Ben mutters. Drunken under his pleasure. He wasn't thinking straight. Because he knew damn well what he had said and what it'd bring and the power you had to break this man. No. It wasn't all you've got. In fact, it was simply a taste test. A sample. Nothing more than an appetizer for a full course meal that your lovely little scarlet spider had bit off more he could chew. Into the lions den.

You laugh softly at his response. That was all it took for him to realize the weight of the situation. How badly he had fucked up. Much to his horror, your left hand wrapped around his cock again whilst the other increased the intensity of the vibrator that had hummed nimbly against his prostate into something stronger.

He screams out. Just the way you like it. In a swirled mixture of agony and delight. Uncertainty and certainty.

You could taste off his regret and gratitude in the way he cried. Yes he cried. Tears dripping down his face as he whines to struggle to get out of your touch. No, you weren't going to let him get out of the trap he set himself in. The trap he knew very well he'd be caught it.

"Stop... sto-..stoppp... stop stop stop– stop ittt" He wailed softly. Almost as if he was mourning. You weren't going to end this, not yet. Not with the way your thumb rubbed itself on the slit of his cock, wet from the previous loads that landed itself inside a cup bellow him. It started to harden and he started to cry all over again and it was a pretty sight to see. Like shiny pearls streaming down his eyes.

The soft yet frantic buzzing of the vibrator up his prostate and your hands rutting up and down his sensitive cock has him leaning his head against your shoulder. Gasping. Begging for mercy. Just like last time. And last time. But now, you're confident he'd keep his pretty little mouth shut.

He's crying is he? Yeah and it's just fueling your cruelty. Your desire to break him any further. You grab his tear stained face to look at you better. The nail of your thumb digging into his cheek. He reminds you of a dog. A little puppy. Shrivelring up after getting it's paw hurt from closing the door a little too soon. God and the way he wines. The way his tears stream down your fingers the faster you move your hands.

After a few more seconds and he's close again and he's looking away with a stubborn frown trying to act like he still has any control of this situation but you tighten the grip you have on his face and jerk him off faster. His eyes firmly set on yours while he mewls and cries, the wetness of your hand intensifying as more precum drippied from the hole of his cock and you pressed your thumb their to rub at it.

Apparently that had him cumming all over again, he cries out, literally sobs for your mercy which he knew, efforts were pointless. You weren't going to stop until the wine glass bellow him had filled itself to the brim.

Perhaps an hour minutes passes and he's so tired but you keep on gently whisper in his ear what a good boy he was, what a precious little gem. What a wonderful puppy he was for still cumming so well. His balls still spontaneous after each orgasm he'd offer, the wine glass reaching its fullness.

"Cmon Benny.. you're doing so well, we're almost done... you can do it baby, just one more? Just one more..." You whisper beside him. Laughing when he whines, but it's quiet because his throat is raspy from all of his previous screaming.

He whimpers before cumminf again and spilling over the cup. Which you gently bring up with one hand as you waited for him to ride out the aftermath of his intense overstimulation. He's weak. Frail little thing. So when you put your thumb inside his mouth he doesn't even try to fight back. Not especially when he licks the digit eagerly and looks at you with tired eyes. Pliant and so dizzy.

"Drink up"

You command softly. Bringing the seminl fluid filled wine glass to his lips. At first he sips hesitantly but despite all his efforts his cloudy mind needs something... some sustenance. And the mundanely salty liquid that's slowly pouring in his mouth counts as so. And he drinks it gratefully. Slowly. Of course, he doesn't exactly care to drink it carefully, when he stops sipping for a moment it spills from his mouth down to his chin and onto the floor.

Once he finishes the entire glass his face is a mess. Covered in his own cum, legs trembling, eyes threatening to close and dried tears right on his cheeks.

He trembles. Slightly. When he tries to move but to no avail, the ropes on his body had still stayed. And when he looks up to you one last time with all of his remaining strength you carry his face with one of your hands. And when he falls unconscious, you smile.

Time to give your puppy a cleaning.

Of course, he wasn't an idiot. He had his clever moments and it was more admiring to witness.

#🤯 writes #ben reilly x reader #ben rily x reader #scarlet spider x reader #ben reilly x male reader #ben riley x male reader #scarlet spider x male reader #bottom ben reilly #bottom ben riley #bottom scarlet spider #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse ben reilly #across the spiderverse ben riley #across the spiderverse scarlet spider #atsv ben reilly #atsv scarlet spider #atsv

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aniharas · 3 months

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𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

summary: on your first day back at spider society hq, your male colleagues are inexplicably drawn to you. your boss, miguel, seems to be affected more than anybody. surely there's an explanation and solution, but who were you to resist?

warnings: explicit language, sexual tension/content, use of pheromones (please let me know if i need to add more!)

wc: 9.6k+ oneshot

a/n: apparently there was a rumor that a body butter named Delícia Drench (hence name of the fic) attracted wolf spiders! somebody on reddit said it's because there might be two ingredients that imitate the pheromones of a female spider and it'll bring all the thirsty boy spiders to your yard. and with miguel being 50% spider, how could i resist writing? (shoutout to scarlet for the wonderful prompt!) however DISCLAIMER! these claims are unfounded, i just thought it was a fun prompt to write off of. anything i say in the fic referring to the butter is purely fictional and im just talking out of my ass. with that being said, enjoy!

Just before the sun began to rise over the city line of Earth-766’s New York, your hand shot out to slam the snooze button of your annoying alarm clock before it could even go off. The silky sheets you were laid in were far too comfortable, reluctant to release you from its dreamlike embrace, but alas, duty was calling. The holidays had come to a close, and your peaceful vacation back in your home dimension was a bliss escape away from your tiring job.

You didn’t hate your job; in fact, it was just the opposite. Since you were in middle school, you always had an unrivaled passion for chemistry, as many Spiders were. Your life before getting bitten by that spider was mainly winning science fairs, calibration rooms, and working towards your Ph.D. Even after becoming your New York’s one and only Spiderwoman, your academic pursuit never ceased, eventually landing yourself at the prestigious Alchemax. However, it was because you had secured such a high-profile job that you caught the attention of the Spider Society, in the form of its leader, Miguel. He somehow knew that you were on the path to creating a more stable version of Rapture, and because of this, he was persistent in roping you into his ranks.

At first, you had declined profusely, briskly walking away from where he had approached you in Central Park. The brisk walk eventually turned into a full-on Spider chase, although the uniqueness of his abilities seemed to distract you. The talons that protruded from his fingers that tore through metal like paper, the neon-red nature of his webs, and his fangs. His fangs were what intrigued you the most. Eventually, you were pincered by him and another Spiderwoman named Jessica, who would later become one of your best friends.

Alas, you accepted, although not until being lured in by the offer of all the technology and scientific advancements you could imagine in Nueva York. The first time you had entered the HQ’s lab, you were like a kid in the candy store. You loved your job, which involved tailoring different types of chemical equipment, unique for each Spider that came by, as well as equally unique medicines and antidotes for the medical ward.

Your main job, however, was developing the Rapture injection, the one you were recruited for, almost daily. And for who other than your broody boss? Even though he hadn’t left the best impression after chasing you like a madman in your hometown, you were required to work with him. And in the beginning, it would be an understatement to say it was challenging. Miguel was a whirlwind of sarcastic remarks and impatience who constantly nagged you for any updates. And to make it worse, each morning, you would make your way to Miguel’s office and inject him with your experimental Rapture of the day. Then in the evening, you would return to observe the effects. The days consisted of constant complaints that you were late, that the injection didn’t have the intended effect, and that Rapture was your top priority, all of which were grating on your soul.

Since your daily routine started and ended with Miguel, your relations grew slightly amicable over time. It started with silent gestures of gratitude: a cup of steaming coffee left in your office in the lab, bringing extra dinner for him during the end-of-the-day check-ups. After 3 months of your stay at the Society, you both started communicating with your watches (He was insistent that you call the watches gizmos, to which you adamantly refused). At first, it was only about work and your Rapture progress. The conversations then slowly changed into more casual ones, topics ranging from your pets back home to him venting his frustrations about the shenanigans of whatever Hobie was up to that day. Sure, he was slightly more friendly (which wasn’t a feat considering who he was), but his irritable nature was still a turn-off for you, and the sarcasm leaping into every evaluation didn’t help either. You considered him lucky that he was quite the eye candy. He was actually pretty attractive whenever he shut his mouth.

This particular morning was your official return to Nueva York after two weeks, so you decided you would put a bit more effort into your routine. Reluctantly, you rose from your bed and stumbled towards your bathroom, wincing at the harsh cold of its floor underneath your feet. You allowed yourself a moment of bliss under your hot shower, trying your best to wash away any stress you were anticipating that day. Once you had finally stepped out of the shower, you quickly dried yourself off and wrapped a plush towel securely around your body, trying your best not to slip as you trudged over to the bathroom counter. Admittedly, you weren’t the most graceful Spider; you were on the smarter side.

Then it was the usual sequence of your routine. Brushing and blow-drying your hair, skincare, and makeup. Just as you were about to make your way to your closet, you realized that you had forgotten your lotion, which you would’ve considered disastrous. Nothing bothered you more than your own dry skin. By habit, you were about to reach for the usual bottle until an unopened box tempted you from the corner of your eye. As you turned it around in your hands and delicately unpackaged it, you silently chastised yourself for almost forgetting. It was a body butter, given to you by Jessica during a surprise visit on Christmas day.

“This is from Lyla. She says to thank her later,” Jessica had said on that day vaguely before giving a brief hug.

Unscrewing the lid from the jar, you smiled to yourself. If there was anyone other than Jessica that you truly missed over your break, it was Lyla. The hologram assistant never failed to make you smile with the many ways she’d tease Miguel, but she also never failed in constantly bringing up asking him out. “I don’t care if he’s your boss,” Lyla would say. “I’d know more than anyone if he has the hots for you, and he guess what? He does!” Which was hard to believe, considering his persistent stubbornness in your day-to-day interactions.

Once the lid was finally off, a waft of vanilla with a hint of sandalwood drifted into the air. Inhaling the scent of the butter deeply, you felt oddly touched. This was undeniably a scent that was up your alley, and it was very thoughtful. As you worked it into your skin, you made a mental note to thank Lyla. It was when you were just about finished that you noticed something peculiar. You had caught a subtle whiff of another note, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was elusive, teasing your senses as you racked your brain for what it could possibly be. Figuring it was just an ester you smelled in your various experiments, you left the bathroom to get dressed, with a more confident aura around yourself.

–

Your first day back couldn’t have started any more peculiar.

You had barely gotten the chance to take in the surroundings of your beloved HQ before you were instantly greeted with Hobie swinging in as he called your name, landing just in front of you.

“Evil genius. Heard you’d be back today,” Hobie greeted with his signature half-smile, his lanky arms immediately opening to embrace you. Which was weird, considering he was more of a handshake-y/shadowboxing type of greeter. But he was a joy to have around in your lab (despite him not particularly having too much interest in your work), so you didn’t refuse.

“You’ve gotten taller,” you replied with a grin on your face, happily accepting his embrace. While it was comforting, you noticed that it was taking a while for him to pull away. Passing it off as mere affection, you pulled away and looked up at Hobie’s face. He seemed almost bewildered as he stared down at you, almost in some sort of trance. Was he looking at your lips? Was he looking further down?

“Uh, Earth-928 to Hobie? Helloo?” you called out, snapping your fingers in front of him repeatedly in an attempt to wake him up. It wasn’t until the 5th or 6th snap that he finally seemed to jolt awake, although still fixated on you.

“Oh. My bad, fam,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You raised a brow at his mannerisms; it was extremely unlike him to act so nervous. You then gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder, and you swore you saw him slightly tense at the feeling.

“So, you got a new cologne or somethin’ like that? Hold on, not cologne…what’s it called? Perfume? Toilettes?” Hobie began rambling, seemingly in a desperate attempt to cover up his uncharacteristic awkwardness.

“Oh, Lyla got me-”

You were cut off by another voice shouting your name to your left. It was one of the many Peters. “How’s my favorite scientist been? How was your vacay?”

“Just stayed at home,” you answered, a bit startled as you tried to split your attention between Peter and Hobie. “Anyways, Lyla-”

Another voice chimed in behind you. “I heard your universe is one of the most beautiful. You were definitely up to something.” Then another. “It’s been forever since I last saw you!” Another. “Wanna come eat with us at the caf?” You even heard Ben’s voice, to which you were surprised he had taken a break from his usual moping to join the ever-growing commotion around you. “You smell nice!” Soon, all the greetings and compliments became a garbled mess in your ears, your view obscured by a wall of Spiders.

You tried your best to force on a polite smile as you tried to weave your way through the oncoming traffic of people. To you, this was completely unexpected and foreign. Sure, you had made lots of friends in your time at HQ, but people weren’t exactly buzzed to see you. At most, you’d get a friendly wave as you passed by each other in the twisty pathways. Now, they acted like you were an oasis in a desert. As you whipped your head around, you noticed something in the ever-growing crowd around you: it was all Spidermen. That irked you slightly; you had made many Spiderwomen friends as well. Where were they? Becoming slightly dizzy with the growing clamor around you, you were just about ready to web yourself up to the ceiling and swing your way to your lab.

As if your prayers were miraculously answered, the familiar rev of an engine overpowered the clamor of the Spidermen, and they immediately parted ways down the middle to reveal Jessica, staring at you with an amused grin as she sat on her motorcycle.

"I’ll take you to HQ if you tell me what the hell’s going on!” Jessica offered, her voice raised so that you could hear.

Instant relief flooded through your body as you nearly sprinted your way to Jessica, planting a grateful kiss on her cheek before hopping on the back of the motorcycle. As you both sped away, you still waved goodbye to the Spidermen, despite how weird you had felt mere seconds prior. As if things couldn’t get any weirder, you noticed that the crowd you had left behind had almost immediately dispersed, with only some lingering around to chat.

“God, Jess. I’ve been here for two minutes, and I think I’ve already had the weirdest day out of everyone here!” you remarked loudly with a heavy sigh. You linked your arms around Jessica’s waist to remain stable on the motorcycle, eyes squinted from traveling at such a high speed.

Jessica only seemed to chuckle in response as she steered through the complicated structure, towards your lab. “Yeah? Try being pregnant!” she called out over the wind, her curls tossing about in the wind.

Your eyes widened immediately upon the revelation. “You’re lying, shut up,” you scolded, immediately feeling over Jessica’s stomach to verify it. Lo and behold, your hands smoothed over the beginnings of a bump, which caused you to squeal out in excitement. “Oh my god, Jess! When is it due?!”

“6 months! So don’t hold on so tight!” Jessica chided playfully as she effortlessly navigated her way through the building, shouting at countless Spiders to move out of her way. You held on for dear life, but of course, not too tight.

Eventually, you reached your beloved lab, to which you both entered. The door hissed closed behind you, and after you had set your bag down, you immediately sprung into action. This was simultaneously your sanctuary and your training, where you were at your best. Jessica watched from a nearby stool, gently holding her stomach.

“So this is where you cook up the good stuff, hm?” Jessica quipped, her eyes glued to the liquid that was poured into an instant syringe.

“Somebody’s gotta keep the boss alive,” you chuckled, your meticulous hands carefully measuring out just the right amount of Rapture before sealing it closed. This was the new batch that you had been working on at home, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t eager to show Miguel. “Speaking of which, I’ll need a lift there.” Packing the syringe into a box, you motioned for Jessica to come with you as you began to walk toward the sealed doors. That was until you were stopped by your pregnant friend’s hand in your face.

“Hold up, hon. You still never explained what was going on out there,” Jessica reminded you in a stern tone with an equally stern look.

“Jess, I wanna know as much as you do.” You paused, taking a deep breath as you recounted the event. “Maybe it's just a…welcome committee thingy.”

Jessica gave you a pointed look as a scoff left her lips. “Welcome committee, my ass. Those guys were like pirates, and you were a siren. It was more like a…’Welcome Back, I Would Die For Your Attention’ committee.”

As much as you wanted to bite back, it was unfortunate that she was right. While most of the Spider-folk were kind, as they tended to be, they were never that eager to see you before. People you thought you could never shake were in the crowd. Did it feel nice? You were ashamed that it did, just slightly, but perhaps for a different reason than you thought.

Perhaps Miguel would be the same.

Noting your silence and your brows creased in thought, Jessica gave you a reassuring smile as she stood to pat you on the back. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop messing with you,” she chuckled, giving you a gentle push toward the door. “But something’s up, and I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, let me know when you figure it out. I’d like to know too,” you said as you narrowed your eyes at her, although you could never keep a serious face with your best friend as you broke out into a smile.

With that, you both stepped out of the lab, only to be immediately greeted by another crowd of Spidermen that had gathered outside the entrance. Your face twisted into annoyance as you looked to Jessica for help.

“Move, people!” she shouted out above the onslaught of chattering Spidermen. “Unless you want to work with Miguel for a week!” With that, the crowd easily dispersed, scattering like…well, spiders. Despite the situation you were in, you were glad that many of them felt the same way about working with Miguel. Outside of work, he was bearable, but his free time was rare.

After another short ride on Jessica’s motorcycle through the complex, you reached Miguel’s office. You took a deep breath, giving your friend a firm nod as you prepared to walk through the automatic doors. As soon as you were about to take a step, Lyla apparated in front of you, sliding down her heart-shaped shades to get a good look at you.

“It’s been forever! Just know I’d hug you if I could,” the assistant exclaimed with the widest grin you’ve ever seen on her. Her playful antics were infectious, and her cheery tone seemed to wipe away the stress the day had accumulated so far. “Sooo, how’d you like your gift?”

“Oh! Right, uh, I’m wearing it right now,” you stammered out, feeling terrible. The morning had been so hectic that you forgot to seek out Lyla and thank her properly. Your response made Jessica raise a brow and lean over toward you, taking a whiff. You looked at her. “What do you think?”

“You smell sweet,” Jessica remarked, then paused, as if analyzing your scent a bit more. “And…womanly.”

Lyla seemed to nod eagerly at this statement, her virtual eyes glinting with curiosity as she prodded at you further. “And what’s it like?”

Perplexed by the wording of the question, you hesitated to answer. What on earth did either of them mean? Everyone was acting strange today. “Um, the vanilla is really nice, I had no idea you knew that I liked that sort of stuff. It was very thoughtful, Lyla.”

Lyla continued to stare at you a bit more intently, seeming to wait for another answer from you until she seemed to give up. “That’s good, I’m glad you love it,” she replied, though there was a hint of something enigmatic in her response. As if she were physically standing in front of the door to the office, Lyla stepped to the side, gesturing for them to go in as the doors slid open. “You can come in, but consider yourself warned. Miguel’s cranky at the moment.”

“When is he not?” You muttered, mostly to yourself, but you could hear Jessica snicker at your side as you both strolled in. The familiar hum of Miguel’s futuristic machinery filled your ears, the metallic interior of his office coldly greeting her eyes. When you first spotted your boss up on his platform (which was redundant, in your opinion), he was already wearing his suit. You swore he always wore it to show off his physique. He had his back turned to the both of you, seeming to intently stare at the screens and holograms in front of him blankly.

“Does he ever not do that?” Jessica muttered under her breath to you as you both stared ahead. It was so simple for her to break your resolve, pressing your lips together in a tight line to prevent yourself from letting out even the smallest sound.

“Are you ever not late?”

Miguel’s sharp voice immediately cut through the playful nature that surrounded the two of you. The smile immediately dropped from your face, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. How could somebody already be so irritated? The day hadn’t even started.

You glanced toward Jessica briefly before answering, trying to keep your voice steady. “I was just stuck in the lobby-”

“Yeah, I saw,” Miguel interjected coldly as he turned his head toward the hologram-screen that displayed the security feed. With a simple flick of his hand, the screen swiped out of view as he turned to face you, his face twisted into an unfamiliar emotion, albeit clearly not a pleasant one. “Really glad you had the time to mingle. Not like we’re on a schedule or anything.”

If Miguel hadn’t been 6’9” of almost entirely pure muscle, you swore you would’ve swung up and lunged at him like a rabid animal. Would it have killed him to be just a bit understanding? He was watching you through the feed, how was any of that your fault? His mockery and grumpy attitude were things you’d grown used to, but today, it was particularly biting. It seemed…personal.

Jessica seemed to feel the same way as you heard her snort audibly in response. This directed his attention towards her, his glare unwavering. “And you,” he began, pointing a finger directly at her. “What did I tell you about riding that thing through my building?”

“ Our building,” she bit back, her posture nonchalant as she lazily examined her nails. “How about you yell at the people who got in her way, smart guy?”

Miguel rolled his eyes at her remark, seemingly ready to go back and forth until he glanced down at her stomach. He then shook his head, gesturing to shoo her away. “I…I don’t even wanna get into it with you. Just…get out.”

Elbowing you lightly, Jessica leaned closer to you with a smirk. “See? Pregnancy perks,” she joked. “But I would’ve preferred a vacation.” You clamped a hand over your mouth to stop the fit of laughter you felt rising.

“¡Oye! Are you even listening?!” Miguel hissed at Jessica, pointing towards the doors. Genuinely, you admired her patience, as she didn’t even flinch. Giving you a look that clearly meant “good luck”, your best friend gently patted you on the back before taking her leave. You stared until her figure disappeared behind the automatic doors, and then you became all too aware that you and Miguel were alone. The air in the room grew tense as you attempted to quell the irritation rising within you.

Once you turned back to look up at Miguel, he was running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back in somewhat of a stressed manner as he was fixated on another screen. Without sparing you another glance, he spoke up again, the words barely even louder than the quiet buzz of the hologram projectors. “The Rapture. Get up here,” he muttered, slowly pacing back and forth on his levitated platform.

Tucking the box securely in your (thankfully) deep pockets, you made sure to secure it tightly, the contents too delicate to leave dangling so carelessly. Mentally preparing yourself for the incoming 5 minutes you had to spend with Miguel, you flung your wrist towards the edge of his platform, a silky web instantly connecting the two. Pulling on the tensile web, you gave yourself enough momentum to fling yourself up onto it, landing opposite to where he was standing—one of your more graceful landings.

His back was still turned to you as you pulled the box out of your pocket, carefully extracting the syringe with your latest creation. Staring down at it proudly, you stood on your feet and cautiously approached Miguel. “Worked on this one during vacation,” you said, not necessarily caring if he had anything to say about it. “Think it’s my best one yet.”

Miguel’s shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep exhale, intent on reading the details of his upcoming mission. “It better be,” was all he muttered, holographic nature of his suit fading away in a patch on his left shoulder, his usual injection site. Placing your right hand tentatively against his shoulder blade, you held the syringe up to his skin, ready to administer until you noticed something. You gently pressed a finger against his skin, and it was almost as if the muscle was made of rocks.

“You need to relax your shoulder, boss,” you remarked, your focus beginning to trail across the expanse of his back. It almost seemed to ripple constantly from how tense they were. Usually, this process was the easy part, and you both had done this dozens of times.

“Yep. Got it.” A muscle in his neck flexed slightly.

“Is something bothering you?” you asked cautiously, observing his odd behavior. Seriously, him too? What was up with everyone today?

“ Mierda , just get on with it,” he grumbled, an obvious strain in his tone.

“If you say so,” you whispered, injecting the green liquid into his system. Once again, it was different. A sharp inhale escaped his lips as he winced; you caught a glimpse of his eyes flashing a bright red in the reflection of his monitors. The eyes were normal, it happened every time. But it never caused him discomfort before. Concern was etched across your features as you took a step back, your eyes scanning over his body.

“Seriously, Miguel. Is there something I should know?” you asked with a huff, placing a hand on his other shoulder to turn him around. However, when you were finally able to his expression for the first time, it was nothing like you had ever expected. His eyes were clouded over as they locked onto yours, a rawness in his gaze that made you shudder. His jaw was clenched, muscles taut, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed deeply. You even noticed the cadence of his exhales, each one sounding as if he was barely in control. Was this an adverse reaction to the Rapture? Uneasiness began to settle into your skin. Was this your fault? You worriedly placed a hand against his forehead to feel his temperature, now noticing the sweat that had begun to dot across his forehead.

He wasn’t even stopping you or making any snide remarks. Something was definitely wrong.

“Lyla?” you called out into the void of his office as you retracted your hand. “Show me his vitals.”

“No, Lyla, don’t even think about it,” Miguel objected through gritted teeth. You both were only greeted by Lyla’s familiar giggle as a hologram screen materialized behind Miguel, displaying his various vitals.

“You’re supposed to work for me ,” he grunted.

“Misclick! Oops, gotta go-” Lyla taunted, the sound of her program shutting off following. You swore you heard him mutter “chinga tu madre” under his breath.

As you read through the different stats, you only seemed to confuse yourself more. His body temperature was slightly elevated, but nowhere close to a fever. No production of histamines, so no allergies. Nothing from the injection seemed to affect any aspect of his body. His heart rate, however, was through the roof. Surely Spider-people don’t get heart attacks, right? You were about to instruct Lyla until a certain statement in his vital report caught your eye.

Elevated levels of oxytocin present.

Those words seemed to knock the wind right out of your stomach, struggling to find the words to say as you froze in place. Was there something you missed when you were gone? Miguel just suddenly had a thing for you? Racking your brain, you tried to think of any way this could have developed. Maybe distance does make the heart grow fonder. Would you be disrespecting yourself if this was fine with you?

Suddenly, images of your time with him began to pop up in your mind, but they were now corrupted. You thought of the way his quadriceps flexed as he carried boxes into your new office, the hitch of his breath every time you gave him a new injection, and simply how large he was in comparison to you. Your free hand began to fidget with the hem of your shirt, letting your gaze fall anywhere but him. You were certain your cheeks looked like they had been pinched. The both of you stood there, unsure of what to do, an awkward silence engulfing the room.

As if unable to endure this situation any longer, Miguel muttered a curse under his breath before he moved swiftly, hopping down from the platform. He seemed eager to escape his office, which was strange; this was where he usually holed up before and after missions. The sound of his footsteps rang in your ears, finalizing the fact that you were now standing alone, your mind a whirlwind of chaos. But with each step he took, the more you felt your heartbeat in your ears, the steady rhythm urging you to follow him. To demand one ounce of clarity from him. He couldn’t just leave you here.

“Miguel, wait,” you called out, shooting a web to the floor and flinging yourself after him. Once you had landed, you kept pursuing him, but he quickened his pace. Your mind flashed back to when he had chased you through Central Park, and a smile snuck its way onto your lips. It only made you even more relentless, your gait quickening.

Once you were close enough to him, you reached out, your hand gently tapping the broadness that was his back, a silent plea for him to acknowledge what had just been uncovered between the both of you. After receiving no response, you sighed in exasperation. “Miguel, please,” you implored. “Could you tell me-”

Miguel pivoted abruptly, the intensity in his gaze disorienting as you felt him tightly grip your wrist. Despite not having done much, his breaths were almost ragged. His eyes were glazed over, dropping down from yours just for a moment, stealing a glance at your body before returning it to a respectable place.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” he grunted through his teeth, his voice low as it wavered with a hint of vulnerability. Despite his efforts to keep it down, the question echoed throughout the confines of his empty office.

As you tried to wiggle your wrist away, you realized it would be a waste of effort to try, so you let him. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stared up at him with wide eyes. You knew for a fact that he could feel your heartbeat with the way he was gripping it, and you were certain it beat like a rabbit’s. Hopelessly caught off guard, you stammered, “I…I don’t know. It isn’t the Rapture, I promise, I did every-”

“Don’t you give me that,” he cut you off, his words seeming to slice through whatever resolve you had left. “I know it’s not the damn Rapture. It’s you. I know it’s you. You’re in my head.”

The admission hung in the air between you two, another thing that only seemed to confuse you further that day. Miguel’s eyes bore into yours, its murky depths desperately searching yours for any answers. But he was only greeted by ones who were as clueless as he was. As he stared down at your wrist that was so easily enveloped by his hand, it seemed to spur him on. Impulsively, Miguel gripped you by your frame and whirled you around, pushing you against the metallic wall, his arms forming a cage around you.

You felt like you were caught in the eye of the storm of emotions that were building up inside him. You were utterly dwarfed by his figure. Sure, you always knew that he was tall, but you never had been this up close and personal before. As you glanced over at the arms that had caged you in like an animal, you fought the urge to run your hand over the ripple of his biceps that were almost staring at you right in the face. Realizing you were definitely focusing on the wrong thing, your eyes met his once again, each time becoming more difficult than the last. Whatever he had to say, you had no choice but to hear it.

“I can’t control it,” he continued, the words escaping like a reluctant exhale. That part was obvious enough. “The moment you stepped into HQ, every damn thought is you. Coño , I can’t even read one sentence of the mission brief with you right behind me. I’m doing things before I even think. I want to hate it.”

The weight of his words settled over you, sinking deep into your skin as you felt yourself burn up again. His sudden infatuation made you realize all the flirty comments and gentlemanly gestures that had been following you all morning. Sure, it was similar, but none of them seemed to be affected more than Miguel. What was it? Swallowing thickly, you mustered the courage to speak, to test the waters. “But you…don’t hate it?” you breathed, your chest seizing with regret as soon as the words left your lips.

Miguel’s brows furrowed, and you had trouble discerning what emotion was causing it. “I don’t,” he choked out, his voice dropping to a whisper. “So fix it.” “What?” His demand hung in the air, a fervent and pleading demand. “I said, fix it,” he insisted, his words taking on a rougher tone. One of his hands slid down from the wall, and he poked accusingly at your chest, just at the top of your sternum. “Whatever you’re doing, fix it,” he persisted, his voice akin to a low growl that sent pleasurable tingles down your spine. “Or I will.” “I don’t know how,” you shamefully admitted, your words laced with sincerity. Your eyes were blown wide upon seeing how intense he was up close, you could hear his labored breaths. The silence that followed your answer lingered between the both of you, both searching each other’s expressions just for one hint, a clue as to how to proceed from that moment. Miguel had always made the decisions, not you, and seeing him at a total loss for words had also stumped you. “I– um, you said that it was when I arrived, right?” you sputtered out, desperate to say anything to ease the heavy tension that was beginning to crush the both of you. Your eyes tried to lock on anywhere that wasn’t Miguel, but it proved difficult when his figure loomed over you. “I can just, uh…go home? Yeah! I can go back home for the day, and I–” And then, with a suddenness that left you without your words, Miguel’s hands retracted from the walls at your sides, cupping your face. Without letting another beat of your heart pass, he surged forward, all too quickly, then his lips were on yours.

At first, your mind tried to make sense of what was happening. This was Miguel O’Hara, your boss, and a rude one at that. The same guy who always scolded you for the smallest of reasons. Not only would it be inappropriate to continue, but a blow to your self-respect. Yet, in the moment that followed, you felt his tongue gently graze against your bottom lip, and all logic seemed to dissolve and wash away, surrendering to his kiss. You should have been embarrassed that you had to reach up so far to wrap your arms around his neck, but he hunched over to make it easier on you.

He seemed to have been waiting for any sort of response from you. His hands moved with purpose, falling from your face to claw at your body, exploring the curves of your back as if he wanted to burn every detail to his memory. The fevered kiss he gave you ceased for a moment, a curse just barely able to escape from his lips before he began to bury his head into your shoulder. He began to leave openmouthed kisses to the smooth, delicate skin of your neck, his canines gently prodding at the skin. The sting seemed to tease you, to ask you how far you were willing to let him go.

“So you are a vampire,” you remarked breathlessly, whining softly at each slow, tantalizing kiss.

You aren’t able to see it, but you feel the way his lips curve up into a smirk against you. The laugh that followed was mind-bogglingly euphoric, the vibrations rippling against the expanse of your neck so deliciously that the heat building between your legs became nearly impossible to ignore. Your hands trail down from his shoulders and smooth over his chest, an action that you found to elicit the prettiest sounds from your boss. You didn’t even know he was capable of such a thing. You wanted to know what else he was capable of.

“You want it here?” you asked, your hands gently pushing against his chest in an attempt to make him pay attention to your words. But it was like he couldn’t pry himself from you. You were given a mere grunt in response, and you felt his calloused hand hold the back of your neck, stroking your nape tenderly. With his face still buried against your skin, he inhaled the scent of you deeply. That alone seemed to make his yearning nature worse, his words barely escaping past the low whine that resonated in his throat.

“Wherever I can fucking have you,” Miguel said as he grasped you, hands cupping just beneath your jaw as his thumbs smoothed over your cheeks. The way he looked at you, half-lidded, pleading, and absolutely drunk off of your body, sent your mind reeling and melted your limbs as you pushed yourself into him. Your eyes darted around for a suitable place, but Miguel’s office wasn’t necessarily 5 stars when it came to comfort. Raising your head, your gaze locked onto the platform you both were just on. Meekly, you point up towards it, unsure if he would satisfy your request. His head followed as you reached out, and he vaguely scoffed.

You were about to suggest another place until his strong arm secured its way around your waist, and suddenly, you were being hoisted into the air alongside your boss. A yelp escaped your throat out of shock, desperately gripping onto Miguel’s body despite knowing you wouldn’t fall. The gesture made him chuckle in a way you had never heard before, the sound hearty and resounding deeply in his chest. And it seemed to drug you and fill your veins with such an unyielding desire; it made you wonder how something so simple as a laugh further fueled this indecorous addiction to him.

Before you even knew it, you were seated in the middle of the platform with him kneeling beside you. As you stared up at him, you were unsure of what to do. But it was like he had read your mind, resulting in a roll of his eyes and his sarcastic nature making a brief return.

“You planning to just sit there?” Miguel huffed as he dragged you closer to him. “Lay down.” His tone is so enticingly irrefutable, so you comply, your back hitting the platform, the cold metal making you shudder. You stared up at him, curious as to how he was going to do this.

Slotting himself in between your legs, his fingers desperately tugged at the waistband of your pants before doing away with them entirely, barely noticing that he had taken your underwear with it. He marveled at what he had revealed, carefully tugging your legs apart as if he wanted to worship it further. His eyes flicked up to your face for just a painstaking moment, and it was hot from anticipation, worsening as he hovered between your legs, pressing kisses along your inner thighs.

“You want this?” he murmurs, his words deep and gravelly. You eagerly nod, fighting the urge to shiver from the coldness that overtook your lower half.

Suddenly, you didn’t have to worry much about the cold the moment you felt his warm breath graze you in just the right way. He pressed a wet, languid kiss to your heat, the saliva his tongue was slathering you with mingling with the arousal that began to pool. You were amazed at how effortlessly his ministrations manipulated your body, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each pleasured exhale. When did he have the time to be so good at this sort of thing?

Soon, you were introduced to his fingers, so lengthy and thick that they had your eyes rolling into the back of your head as they plunged inside you. Each call of his name seemed to spur him on, increasing his tempo and the lewd, obscene noises that echoed across his office. Before you even knew it, all of it was too much; the subtle curling and pumping of his girthy fingers, the flick of his tongue; it was like a wave had crashed over you, sending your thighs into convulsions. He slowed his movements as each thrust of his fingers grew more wet, easing you down from your high. The delicate touches lasted for a mere second before you were flipped over, your hips being dragged back as you felt your behind press against the outline of the stiff, rock-hard muscle at his crotch, a testament to how much he had been craving you.

What followed was a sweetly painful, visceral blur. You had heard the sound of his holographic suit retracting itself, and you turned your head, curious as to what you’d see. He smiled smugly at your doe-eyed expression upon seeing his goods, and the only thing occupying your mind was if he could fit at all. It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting it, he was a behemoth of a man after all. But seeing it up close, anticipating its entry was an entirely different beast.

But Miguel was experienced, having dutifully prepared you to take him, making it a more easy experience as his tip prodded your entrance gently, slowly easing himself in. The stretch was undeniably painful, your fingers clutching at the floor, desperately looking for something to hold onto. But as he pushed in further, the feeling transformed into a euphoric ache. He had been trying his best to remain silent to not attract any attention from the outside, but your name managed to fall from his mouth in a hoarse groan, harmonizing with the pathetic whines that you had been letting out. His hands pinned your wrists against the floor, the freezing nature of the floor beneath you contrasting with the heat that bounced between your bodies.

His vigorous pace slightly rocked the platform beneath you, threatening to tip over if Miguel had a mind to get rougher. However, he seemed to know his limits, effortlessly filling you up in a way that could satisfy you for lifetimes. Crude phrases left your swollen lips, each one a way to praise the man that was fucking you like his next mission was his last. The sound of your skin colliding with him was growing filthier with each second, more carnal. For a fleeting second, your mind filled with worry, anxious about anybody that could have been waiting outside his office. Anyone who stood within a 5-yard radius from the entrance could hear just about anything that was going on inside. But his fingers then came up to slither their way into the roots of your hair, yanking your head back far enough so he could whisper in your ear. “Keep talking, say you want me. Say it.”

And soon enough, you were begging for him, arms shaking as you struggled to hold yourself up as ripples of your orgasm traveled throughout your body, your slick absolutely drenching the both of you. Your pleas were what had done him in, his rhythm stuttering and his length pulsing inside you, unsheathing himself as he emptied himself all over your ass, the viscous liquid dripping slowly down its curve. For a moment, the both of you stayed where you were, worn-out breaths being the only thing you both could exchange as you tried to wrap your head around what you had done.

Surprisingly, Miguel had a thought for aftercare. He had retrieved a gym towel and cleaned you up, wiping away his release and your sweat as best as he could. “Still think you have to shower, though,” he commented, the smug undertone in his voice not going unnoticed.

“Back at you,” you quipped, though the smile never left your face as you redressed yourself.

You never thought you would have to try to sneak your way out of Miguel’s office, but considering how disheveled you were after your tryst with him, it was the only way to keep your dignity intact. The air outside was cooler, freezing against your skin that still burned with the residual warmth of his hands all over you. You shuddered. You definitely needed a cold shower.

After grabbing your spare clothes from your office, you found yourself in the ladies’ room. Stripping off your sweat-ridden clothes (you had a mind to scold him for not taking them off), you hopped into one of the showers and slid the privacy curtain shut behind you. The warm water was comforting, easily washing away the feeling of sex away from your body, but what remained emotionally was unexpected. The thought of seeing him again.

A nervous energy gnawed at your heart as you mindlessly lathered soap all over your body. The both of you just had a steamy hookup, but what would happen now? Your insides seemed to twist as you remembered the fact that seeing him at the end of the day was inevitable. The water from your showerhead seemed to pelt down at your skin now, creating an atmosphere perfect for overthinking. Was it a one time thing? Did he want more? Did he like you? Would he fire you? Thankfully, Miguel was due for a mission today, so you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him before your scheduled time. That would give you enough space to cool your head.

“Relax,” you told yourself, barely able to hear your thoughts over the pitter-patter of water droplets around you. “You just screwed your boss. Tough it out. Forget about it. Act like it didn’t happen.”

However, the memory of his hands tracing the contours of your back seemed to follow you like a ghost, sending shivers down your spine no matter how much you cranked up the heat of your shower.

–

Enclosed in the white, sterile walled haven that was your lab, you buried yourself in work, hoping that the hum of calibration machines and the countless lab tests were enough to get your mind off of your tumultuous morning. You decided that it wasn’t enough, sliding your headphones over your ears and blasting your favorite playlist on repeat just so you wouldn’t have to hear your inner turmoil.

And it worked, the hours effortlessly passing by in a blur. Holographic displays and paperwork filled your visions, the very tasks you used to complain about becoming a solace on your first day back at your lab. You didn’t expect to get much done considering the crowd you had easily amassed earlier that morning, but strangely, that stopped, and you were thankful. Your usual visitors came in: Gwen, a few Peters, and even Hobie, who apologized profusely for how much of a “halfwit” he was being earlier, all while simultaneously swearing that you would never tell another soul. You agreed, stifling a laugh, knowing you could never be upset with him. Despite feeling confused for what had seemed like the millionth time that day, things seemed to be falling back into place, and it would have been comforting if it hadn’t been for one thing. You couldn’t exactly unfuck your boss. You chastised yourself quietly for thinking about it again; you were doing so well.

Once again, he was consuming your mind to the point where you couldn’t set your mind straight as you tried to come up with a new substance for one of your Spiderwoman clients. She had asked for a chemical that could help her easily attract and control actual spiders in her vicinity. You had a vague idea of how to bring her idea to life, with cetyl acetate sitting in one of your beakers, but you couldn’t quite remember the other component no matter how hard you racked your brain.

You retraced your steps, checking and double-checking the labels of the countless chemicals that sat preciously in your lab. You felt frustration coil up within you as you consulted your reference binder, embarrassed that you even had to look such a simple thing up. By the time you had located the constituent, many a Spider had begun to leave, the chatter outside of your lab winding to a hush. After squeezing a few drops of farnesyl acetate into your beaker, you gave the substances a quick mix, noting how nice it smelt. And how familiar.

Everything building up in you had left you seeking refuge in your dainty office that sat in the corner of the lab. As you closed the door behind you, temporary relief washed over you, and it was then that you decided it would be best if you went home for the day. Retrieving your bag, you sighed as you sank into your chair, weariness finally settling in after hours of constant work. Fishing around your bag for your office key, your fingers brushed against a jar-shaped object. You brought along Lyla’s gift for retouching throughout the day, but it slipped your mind amidst the chaos of the day. Hoping the vanilla scent would ease your thoughts, you unscrewed the cap with purpose, hoping it would ease the tension in your skin.

Just as you were about to apply, the sound of the entrance doors hissing open disrupted your serenity. Ready to tell off whoever was disturbing your peace, you set down the jar, twisted the doorknob open, and stormed out of your office, only to be frozen in place as you were greeted by the one and only Miguel, his expression uncharacteristically sheepish. A new cut adorned his face, already in the process of regeneration as it had already scarred over. Different parts of his holosuit were damaged, leaving behind a glitch-like static; were those claw marks? He definitely had a rougher day than you.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up. “You alright? That looks like it hurt,” you remarked, tentative as you were unsure what the conversation would lead to.

Miguel simply shrugged, his eyes unable to find yours. “I, uh…the anomaly was more intense than I thought. Was a bit distracted, got roughed up,” he said, his voice a rare mix of honesty and humility.

Your brows furrowed together in sympathy despite the unspoken words between the two of you. “Did you need me to whip something up for you?” you offered, moving towards your box of plastic gloves.

It was only then that he looked up at you, his hand coming up, gesturing for you to stop in protest. “No! No, it’s okay. I’ll live.” He met your eyes, and you immediately knew that he was just as unsure as you were, the uncertainty giving way to a hint of vulnerability.

After a hesitant pause, Miguel finally spoke, the moment you were waiting for finally happening. “Look, about earlier…I’m sorry,” his words stumbling out. “It was unexpected.”

Although you had anticipated this answer, you couldn’t help but deflate upon actually hearing it. You weren’t expecting him to fall on his knees and ask for your hand, but you would’ve at least liked to hear him say that he enjoyed it. “You’re sorry? Would you rather have not done it all?” you accused, much to his chagrin.

“I– no, carajo , that’s not what I meant at all,” he sighed in irritation, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s just…it caught us off guard. I’m not sorry it happened, I’m sorry that it was just…sudden, that’s all,” he huffed, not wanting to get into it with you.

For a moment, you pondered over his words. So he wasn’t opposed to sleeping with you. With impulsive thoughts bubbling up inside you, you were prodded to take the leap again. “Would you do it again?” you asked genuinely, an offer to him.

Miguel’s eyes widened in surprise, an exhale of relief shortly following, a chuckle mingled with his words. “Yeah, I’d do it again,” he answered, moving to step closer to you, and you didn’t mind. Just as it seemed as if he was about to sweep you into his arms again, he stopped in his tracks, his head turning to your lab bench as he fixated on the beaker, the one that was carrying your latest project.

Initially, you thought that Miguel was some sort of a stickler for cleanliness, so you felt embarrassed, reaching for your disposable gloves once again. “Oops, I’ll just put that away–”

“No,” he ordered with a familiar intensity in your voice, making you retract back to your original spot. He inched closer to the workbench, nostrils flaring as he sniffed at the mixture in the fragile glass. “What is that? Tell me,” he demanded, the urgency in his voice increasing tenfold.

Although you were weirded out by how much this seemed to matter to him, you answered earnestly. “Some…strange project one of the Spiderwomen wanted me to work on. Something to attract spiders, but just the males to prevent them from fighting. Synthetic pheromones, essentially.”

“Huh. Smells like how you did this morning,” he remarked almost immediately, raising a brow in confusion.

You stood there, utterly winded by his words, unsure of what to say. Was he saying this figuratively to flirt with you? But judging from the look in his eyes, he was deadly serious. As your eyes locked onto the concoction that you had made that morning, your mind went to the jar that was sitting on your desk, opened. Without another word, you rushed to your office, taking the jar of body butter and inhaling its aroma deeply. You felt your heart drop to your stomach in terror, the scents were strikingly similar. Turning the jar around in your hands with haste, your eyes scanned for the list of ingredients, silently praying you weren’t rubbing what you thought you were rubbing into your skin.

As you searched, you felt Miguel’s presence right behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he examined the jar with you, inexplicably drawn to it. “What’s that?” he inquired, the strain in his voice from before making a return.

“The lotion I put on this morning,” you said dreadfully, turning your head to look up at him sheepishly. Still confused, he met your gaze only for a moment before he searched through the neverending list of ingredients.

“What did you put in that beaker?”

“Farnesyl acetate and hexadecyl acetate. If it doesn’t say hexadecyl, try cetyl.”

After a minute of searching, Miguel hunched over you to point at a specific spot on the jar. Following his finger, you sighed, laying your eyes on the very thing you didn’t want to see.

“So…” you began awkwardly, unable to wrap your mind around the information bouncing around in your brain. It started to connect like dots: how you attracted the Spidermen in the morning by the dozen, Jessica’s remark about you smelling like a “woman”, Miguel’s sudden lust for you. Then the notable absence of your eager Spider-crowd after your shower. “As your head chemist, I can conclude that spider pheromones can work on…us.”

“Evidently,” Miguel responded, visibly dumbfounded. Seeming eager to prevent more chaos from occurring, he took the jar and its lid from your hands, screwing the lid tightly shut before placing it on your desk carefully. “Where’d you even get something like that?”

“I didn’t. Lyla got it for me,” you confessed. Your mind went to that mischievous hologram. Did she know? Was this a clever attempt to kickstart something between you and Miguel?

“Lyla, that minx...” Miguel trailed off, and you caught a glimpse of his eyes rolling before he squeezed them shut, pinching his nose bridge in an attempt to quell what presumably was a string of curses toward his assistant. Immediately, he swiftly turned around, muttering quietly to himself as he made his way towards his exit. “I ought to give her a piece of my mind…”

You stared after him, about to leave him to his own devices before a thought crossed your mind. You remembered Miguel’s biology, the very thing that made him Spiderman in the first place: his DNA was spliced with one of a spider, effectively making him 50% arachnid. The pheromones you had been unknowingly emitting would affect him more than anyone else, and it proved to be true. An uneasiness settled into your stomach, was that the only reason why he wanted you?

“Wait,” you called after him, your voice betraying your attempted nonchalance. Miguel paused at the doorway, leaning against it as he turned to look at you with an arched brow. His eyes silently asked you to proceed.

“Is it… just the pheromones?” you asked, feeling your stomach twist and turn into knots as you awaited his reply. “You know, about everything, uh, earlier.”

Miguel pushed himself off of the door. “Well, it definitely gave me the push I needed,” he admitted, sauntering over to you with a grin so smug you wanted to smack it off his face. “But, if we’re being honest, I would’ve done it eventually.”

You blinked, processing his words.”You mean that? But you’re kinda mean.”

He sighed loudly, stopping just in front of you. “Idiot. Yes, I mean it,” he muttered, leaning down to cup your cheeks in his hands, his face levelling with yours. “You drive me crazy.”

And the kiss that Miguel left on your lips afterward was more gentle than the hungry, needy one he gave you before, dispelling any doubts you had about the true nature of his feelings. His lips were like heaven, slightly chapped from the labor of his mission from earlier, but you didn’t care. When he pulled away, there was a soft playfulness in his eyes you had never seen before.

“You got it?” he teased, his thumb smoothing over your cheek.

You managed a nod, resulting in Miguel gently patting your cheek before releasing you and turning to leave, still insistent that he give Lyla a piece of his mind. Giggling at his antics, you were about to grab your things to leave until you saw his head pop in the entrance once more. “Yes?” you called out.

“Bottle that thing up and label it as a hazard,” he ordered in response, pointing toward the open beaker on the bench. “It’s damn near chemical warfare,” he mumbled before disappearing again.

“Yes, boss,” you complied, unable to fight the grin that was now plastered to your face. As you bottled up your concoction, you made a mental note to thank Lyla. Again.

originally posted on ao3! first fic i'm ever posting on tumblr and i'm so excited! feedback and suggestions for more stories are more than welcome!

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader smut #spiderman 2099 #oneshot #miguel o'hara oneshot #spiderman oneshot

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dj-spiderman · 10 months

Note

Hello, Just here to make a small request

I'm not sure if you write for Ben Reilly but if you do could we get some platonic mentorship between him and teen reader who sees him as a big brother?

If you do anons could I be 🐉 anon? Have a good day/night man!

THE BETTER BROTHER

- Ben Reilly & Teen!M!reader

- Genre: Platonic fluff (little bit of angst w/ comfort towards the end)

- A/N: You can absolutely be 🐉 anon! Anywho, was gonna make it straight fluff, but I thought it’d be cute to have it so that in reader’s dimension, he was Peter Parker’s brother, but Peter died. And with Ben being a clone of him… y’get me?

“Your pose is off,” Ben corrects your hand placement, giving an approving nod as the two of you stand watch for any anomalies “perfect pose.” He confirms, looking towards you like a proud parent.

“Your pose is off..” You grumble, struggling to maintain the placement of your hands. You managed for near a minute before clambering onto the ground behind.

It was dead silent in the moment. Ben’s head had snapped to look down at you, simply staring. Your eyes locked together before the older boy broke out into laughter.

Your face went red with humiliation and anger, immediately scrambling to your feet and pushing him over the ledge. His laughter cut off with a scream before he managed to web himself back up onto the rooftop they paroled.

“Oh you’re in for it now!” He huffs, tackling onto you. The two of you tumble across the roof, Ben now holding you in a weak, yet firm, chokehold. “Admit defeat!”

“You’re defeat!” You retaliate, squirming around in his grasp.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” He groans, having you smack at his head after freeing an arm.

“Take that!” You grin, squirming a bit more before slipping free. “Haha!” Your cheers of victory soon cut short as he recovered quickly.

Eyes wide, you take off quickly, beginning to hastily swing away. “You can’t run forever!” He calls out, not far behind, getting giddy about the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“I’m not running!” You cockily call back, sticking out your tongue, only to crash onto the side of a building. Comically so, peeling from the wall and down onto the fire escape just below with a heavy thud and groan.

“And yet again! I stand the better brother!” Ben cheers, only to cut himself off after hearing you mumble about.

“Brother…?” Your voice is small and slightly pained, reminiscing on the past.

Your brother, Peter Parker, hadn’t passed long ago. It’s why you took up role of Spider-Man. But that didn’t stop the hole in your heart from growing. As though that sibling bond was missing.

But Ben.. Ben made it easy to move forward. He mended that spot to fit right in. And now, now he was actively taking the role of your older brother? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Yeah.. yeah okay, you’re the better brother.” You reply, a small smile playing at your lips as you stared up at the older boy. “But I’ll beat you next time.”

“Oh you’re on!” He challenges, already getting a head start as he began to swing off.

And you weren’t far behind, happily laughing and taunting him. It was the happiest you had been in a while. Ben really was the best brother.

#spiderverse x male reader #astv #scarlet spider x male reader #scarlet spider #ben reilly x male reader #ben reilly #🐉 anon #ben reilly & teen!reader #scarlet spider & teen!reader

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naeverse · 6 months

Text

Keep It In The Closet (Halloween Special)

💜 starring: Miguel O’Hara x Shy fem!reader

🍾 preview:

"I didn't know you had that kind of fire in you, Y/N. You always seemed so… timid," he said, his thumb caressing your side, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a fire within you. "But tonight...

You've been all I’ve thought about."

😈 summary:

Miguel O'Hara finds himself being dragged to a Halloween party by his friend, Peter B. Parker. His disdain for the party quickly dissipates when he is drawn to a mysterious woman in a sleek leopard costume and captivating black mask that seems to move him in ways he'd never thought possible…

🍾 tw/cw: Unprotected sex, Sensory Deprivation, Wall sex, Fingering, Dirty talk, Semi-public sex, Standing, etc…

😈 Pet names: Bebè (Baby), Cariño (Darling), Muñeca (Doll), Gatita (Kitty), Hermosa (Beautiful)

💜rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🍾Word Count: 7.1k

(Every character mentioned is of age!!)

😈Credit to artist in header: sylvaeon

Miguel let out another annoyed groan, his amber eyes rolling in irritation as he rode in the passenger seat beside his friend, Peter B. Parker.

"Come on, Miguel, don't be like that," Peter said, glancing over at the huge, tanned male beside him in the car while he drove. "I promise this party MJ and I are hosting is going to be worth it! Pinky promise!" He joked, even putting his pinky finger up and giving it a shake whilst turning his amber eyes to look at the road in front of them.

Miguel couldn't help but roll his eyes, feeling like he had done it a hundred times already. He muttered under his breath angrily, turning to look out the window, feeling sullen.

"Miguel, it's Halloween night! What were you going to do, huh? Stay cooped up in your office this whole time?"

"Yeah, actually," Miguel replied. The mere thought of spending an entire night among multiple Spider-people already made him feel claustrophobic.

"You know me, Peter. I don't do parties." Miguel growled, keeping his crimson gaze fixed on the window on his passenger side, taking in the many halloween decorations and trick-or-treaters that covered Peter's dimension, Earth-616.

Peter laughed. "I couldn't tell. You seemed pretty prepared, buddy."

Miguel snarled, his eyes glancing down at the outfit he had thoughtfully picked out.

He wore a scarlet, collared button-up shirt that was unbuttoned a few at the top, covered with a black blazer. His black formal slacks and leather oxfords dressed the bottom half of his outfit. To finish the look, he had added some gold jewelry. Golden bands of different sizes and shapes adorned his fingers, and a chain was worn around his neck, accentuating his bronze, defined collarbones and thick throat.

"Shut up and drive," Miguel snarled, earning another laugh from Peter. "Okay, fine, but I promise you, Miguel. When you leave this party tonight, you'll be thankful I dragged you there..."

Miguel sighed, heavily doubting Peter's words.

Miguel felt a huge wave of dread hit him as soon as Peter arrived at the penthouse he rented for his party.

“I can’t have alcohol and drunken spider folk around my baby, Miguel. I have a family now!”

Miguel vividly remembering him rant when he asked the simple question of why a penthouse out of everything.

Miguel let out another heavy exhale, his dark brown eyes wandering the party from the safety of the passenger seat, trying his best to get the lay of the land. He cursed once more under his breath when he turned over to Peter’s side of the car to see a scary clown staring back at him.

“BOO!”

Peter exclaimed, causing only an unfazed grunt to escape Miguel’s lips. “What the fuck are you doing?” Miguel asked nonchalantly, his eyes narrowing in confusion and annoyance. Peter groaned in frustration, pulling the mask up from over his face. “You are no fun Miguel. You could at least pretend to be scared.” Miguel rolled his eyes, his arms crossing over his broad chest. “Why? You look more ridiculous than scary.”

Peter snickered, pulling his mask off to take a look at the clown covering before placing it back onto his head. “Yeah, yeah. To you maybe. This mask looks pretty sick to me.” He laughed, glancing over at the bustling party that was occurring at the huge penthouse in front of them. “Well, we’ve stalled enough. Let’s head in now, I know MJ is probably tired from hosting all by herself.” He exclaimed, turning to Miguel.

“You got your mask?”

Miguel’s eyebrows instantly furrowed, his jaw clenching. “I didn’t bring a mask.” Peter ran a frustrated hand through his dark brown hair. “Miguel, it’s a Halloween party. Did you think you would just walk in there like…that!?” Peter motioned to Miguel’s outfit causing him to scoff. “I told you from the start I didn’t want to fucking come, Peter. Of course, I didn’t bring a mask.” Miguel snarled, causing Peter to hold the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “Just…bare your fangs and do whatever you do with your eyes to make them redden. Look the part.”

Miguel was practically seething, his fangs starting to protrude from under his lips, his eyes darkening. “Just like that!” Peter said with a grin, covering his face with his clown mask before exiting the car. Miguel growled, leaving the car after Peter, and slamming the door shut behind himself.

Miguel walked behind Peter, his seven foot stature making him a foot taller than the family man before him as Peter led him towards the penthouse where his hosted Halloween party was occurring.

“What’s up Peter?!”

“Hi, Peter!”

“Nice party!”

Many spider-people dressed in costumes exclaimed to Peter when he appeared at the front door. Peter grinned happily, welcoming the social event whilst Miguel's body instantly tensed up, his face hardening.

He wanted nothing more than to leave…

“Hey, everyone. I’m happy to hear the party is going great so far.” Peter smiled, before stepping out the way to reveal Miguel. “But, look who I pulled out of the office?! No one other than the boss himself, Miguel O’Hara!” Peter chuckled, resting his elbow on Miguel’s shoulder. Miguel glared daggers at Peter putting him on the spot, before his crimson eyes swept across the stilled social event.

The party seemed to instantly come to a halt, small murmurs and whispers occurring at the sight of Miguel’s attendance. Even the music seemed to have lowered in volume.

Miguel sighed heavily, brushing Peter off. “I’m heading to the snack bar.” He uttered, wanting to get out of the hot seat Peter had carelessly thrown him into.

Peter nodded, returning back to frantically chatting with a few party attendees. Miguel left, entering further into the party.

It seemed as if by his mere presence, it was disrupting the little Halloween Bash. Dancers coming to a stop at the dance floor, excited conversations coming to a halt, and eyes behind different colored masks trained on him as he passed.

Miguel didn’t care. He had told Peter multiple times that Miguel O’Hara and social events didn’t mix, yet, Peter proceeded on dragging him here.

“Voy a matar a Peter un día de estos.”

He angrily mumbled, opening the blue cooler by the snack bar to pull out a cold beer bottle. He brought the bottle to his lips, using his fangs to pop open the lid before taking huge gulps of the alcoholic beverage, his Adam’s Apple bobbing with each swallow. A contented sigh passed his lips when he pulled the beer from his mouth

“That’s good.” He breathed, his amber eyes moving to take in the party whilst he leaned against the wall.

The main party where Miguel stood, was located in a spacious living room, the many furniture pushed back to create a dance floor. A DJ stood at the front, turning tables and hyping up the party whilst many costumed bodies danced before him.

Miguel was rather overwhelmed. His enhanced nose picked up on so many scents, so many smells ranging from the aroma of the delicious delicacies that covered the snack table, to the intense mingling of women's perfume and male’s cologne, and the sweat that leaked from the dancing Spider-people on the dance floor.

His ears also were hit intensely by the loud soundwaves of the speakers, and chatter of the spider-people around him, but there was one conversation that piqued his interest.

“Come on. Get on the dance floor with me?!”

He heard a young girl say somewhere to his right.

Miguel leaned against the wall, sipping his beer whilst his dark brown eyes searched the party for the identity of the voice when he located the two figures.

A girl in a black witch dress, pointy hat, and tall boots stood before another woman, tugging at her arms. The young girl who looked to be in her early 20s was blocking Miguel's view of the other female she was conversing with.

Miguel continued to watch from afar, his enhanced hearing being able to pick up the entirety of the conversation between the two females.

“I-I don’t know, Gwen…I-I-I don’t want to go,” you mumbled nervously, hugging your body. Gwen sighed heavily, pushing a strand of her blond hair behind her ear, and twirling the small broomstick in her hand.

"But I want you to have fun. I didn't bring you here so you could hug the wall the whole night," Gwen, your best friend, explained with a pout, still tugging your arm. "Come on, get out of your shell."

You bit your lip nervously. "I-I feel out of my shell already w-with the Halloween costume you gave me," you timidly said, causing you and Gwen to glance down at your Halloween costume.

A long-sleeved leopard bodysuit covered your being, along with a pair of leopard cat ears headband was worn on your head as a long tail flowed from your backside. Your bodysuit completely exposed your thighs and legs, which were dressed with fishnet stockings. Knee-high, heeled leather boots covered your feet, and to top off your look, a black collar with a bell adorned your neck, and a black mask concealed your eyes and nose, leaving your dark red lips revealed.

The outfit was rather revealing for a timid and shy girl like you, but due to Gwen's persistence, you adorned the costume and came to the party hosted by her friend, Peter B. Parker.

"What are you saying!? You look fantastic! Stop worrying so much," Gwen giggled, briefly glancing back at the dance floor where she recognized a few spider-people before turning her attention back to you.

"Okay... I won't force you, but go check out the snack bar or something? Enjoy yourself." She grinned and then leaned in close to you, whispering loud enough to be heard over the pounding music.

"I even heard the Vampire Ninja himself is here."

Your eyes widened behind your mask. "W-wait, what!? M-Miguel O’Hara is here!?" you exclaimed, trying to hide the blush creeping into your cheeks. Gwen smirked, well aware of the effect Miguel had on you.

"Yep, so I suggest you get out there and show off that costume some," she playfully suggested before disappearing into the sea of dancing bodies on the dance floor. You bit your lip, pressing your back against the white walls of the penthouse.

The fact that Miguel O'Hara was at this Halloween party made you even more nervous.

You wanted to leave…

You remembered the day you were accepted into the Spider Society and your not-so-great first impression to Miguel O'Hara.

His striking appearance had made you a total klutz. You couldn't shoot your webs accurately or dodge incoming attacks, often ending up on your back in pain. But your extensive knowledge of the Multiverse and your skills in medicine, technology, and innovation compensated for your poor physical performance. You knew your ability to create a gadget in under 30 minutes, a task that took Miguel two hours was the main reason he accepted you.

After that embarrassing episode, you thought Miguel would never notice you, let alone look in your direction.

However, Miguel's crimson eyes couldn't help but be fixed on you at the party.

Once Gwen left, he finally was able to see the timid woman she was talking to and he couldn't believe who he saw…

He almost dropped his beer bottle.

You were stunning, absolutely breathtaking.

He’d never felt this way before about anyone. The mere thought of anything more than a good night with a woman made him shudder. He believed the whole relationship thing was a huge distraction, especially with the job and life he led.

His eyes continued to look you up and down, taking in the way the leopard costume accentuated your breasts, and feminine curves, and the sight of your flawless, luscious legs under your fishnet stockings.

What really made Miguel's heart flutter was the shyness that practically radiated from your body. He knew from your conversation that, like himself, social events weren't your thing as you were practically trying to become one with the wall and disappear from the party.

But despite your desires to be unseen, all you did was gain Miguel's attention more and more…

"Hey buddy!"

Miguel jumped, feeling Peter smack him on the back as the clown mask he wore on his face came into view in front of him. "Damn Miguel, now I scared you? I wasn't even trying that time." He cackled, causing Miguel to groan, tapping his ring of his middle finger against the brown bottle in irritation. "What do you want?" He growled, his flickering red eyes constantly glancing over at the leopard girl to see Gwen, your best friend had returned as the blondie was excitedly talking to you.

He couldn't hear the conversation, not with Peter rambling in front of him. "-And MJ took my phone when I was just trying to call her mom to check in on Mayday. She's just being so frustrating, man." Miguel's jaw clenched, his hand dangerously gripping his beer bottle. "So, you came over here…to talk about MJ preventing you from contacting your kid?" Miguel asked sternly, the tapping of his ring against the glass of his drink coming to a halt.

Peter didn't seem to notice the anger that was slowly rising up in his friend as he continued talking. "Yes and no." He snickered from behind his clown mask. "MJ had set up a little game in the guest bedroom upstairs, and wanted me to round up some people to play." He said. "Talking about, maybe playing would ease my worries about our daughter, like that will ever happen." He said with an eye roll.

Miguel scoffed, the mere thought of playing some childish game with a few spider-people made him recoil in disdain.

"Now why the hell-"

"O-okay…I-I'll play."

His ears picked up the sound of the enchanting feline from across the room. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, his eyes snapping over to Gwen and you to see your witch friend jumping up and down excitedly.

Miguel growled, running his frustrated, ring covered hand through his dark brown curls. Peter was still rambling on about the game and what it entailed, but Miguel wasn’t listening. He was debating on what to do, what to decide…

But he knew what his answer would be…

“I know you believe games like this are childish and we are like grown ass adults now, but live a little Miguel.” Peter rambled, whilst rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “So, what do you say-

“Fine.” Miguel hastily responded, turning his amber eyes back onto Peter. “Come on Miguel, you can’t just- Wait what!?” Peter exclaimed in disbelief, believing that it would've been harder to get the stern male to comply with the game idea.

“Don’t make me say it again.” Miguel groaned, downing the rest of his beer bottle before placing it onto the table behind him, and turning back to Peter.

“So are we going or not?”

You sat beside Gwen in a circle of chairs with a lone, empty bottle on a table in the center.

Nervously, you bit your scarlet lip, your hands clenched into tight fists on your bare thighs, which were covered in fishnet stockings.

Your eyes shifted, taking in the other players participating in the Spin the Bottle game: Margo, MJ, Miles, and Hobie. Two vacant chairs stood in front of you and Gwen as she sighed heavily. "Gosh, when are we going to start?!" She exclaimed, causing Hobie to chuckle beside her, glancing over at the empty chairs as well.

"Seems as if there are others coming, Gwendy. Have more patience." He snickered, a black mask perched on top of his thick, black hair. The mask had eerie stitching over the eyes and mouth, illuminated by a neon light that flickers between red and blue emanating from the stitches. It bore a striking resemblance to a famous movie in which all rules and restrictions were abandoned, and the world embraced murder and other crimes. Surprisingly, it was a fitting choice for Hobie's personality. With the mask, Hobie wore all black which paired well with the mask.

“It’s supposed to be Peter coming. I don’t know where he is.” MJ said with a groan, a pink cowgirl outfit dressing her being.

"Yeah… Peter can be a real social butterfly," Miles retorted to your right, donned in a pirate costume, complete with a long leather coat, a waist sash, a cross belt filled with artificial pistols, heavy black boots, and a black pirate hat covering his head.

You stole a glance at Gwen with a small smile to see her trying not to make eye contact with the ebony-skinned male to your right. You knew Gwen had a thing for Miles, just like she knew you had a thing for Miguel.

"But if you know Peter, you know it's easy for him to get swept up in the crowd," MJ said with a grin, her red hair flowing over her shoulders from under her pink cowgirl hat. “He's always eager to introduce our daughter to anyone and everyone. I swear, his love for her knows no bounds." Laughter filled the room, and small conversations started among the guests, but you were too nervous to engage in the banter.

Margo turned her attention to you, her purple skin glowing under her sheriff's cap, and black shades, her body dressed in a dark blue, police officer costume. She pulled down her shades, her amber eyes looking you up and down before she greeted you, extending her gloved hand. Timidly, you offered a smile and shook her hand firmly. "N-Nice to meet you," you stammered. Margo grinned happily. "Nice to meet you too, but why so tense?" she asked, tilting her head. "It's a party. You've got to relax a little, girl," Margo added with a giggle, prompting you to sigh.

"I... I know, I'm just not used to parties, and I've discovered that someone is here whom I wish weren't... Now, my nervousness has only…heightened." Margo nodded, understanding your situation.

"You don't have anything to worry about. The people you see in this circle are the best of the best in the Spider Society."

"Don't forget Jessica!" Gwen chimed in, causing Margo to giggle. "Jessica too," Margo acknowledged before turning her shaded eyes back to you. You smiled, glancing around the circle once more through your black mask before meeting Margo's eyes. Her words provided you with some comfort. "Thank you, Margo," you said.

"Anytime," she replied, though her eyes still lingered on you. Your eyebrows furrowed, prompting her to sigh.

"I... wasn't going to ask, but something you said piqued my interest."

"What?" You asked in curiosity and confusion. She scooted closer, lowering her voice.

"I was just wondering... who is it?" She asked, which only made you even more perplexed. "W-who is what?"

"Who is here at the party that is making you so nervous?" She asked more clearly, causing your eyes to briefly widen behind your mask. A lump formed in your throat as, simultaneously, the doors to the guest bedroom burst open.

"We’re here! We’re here!" Peter exclaimed, stepping inside with his clown mask drawn up to rest on the top of his head. "Finally!" Gwen said beside you, causing a laugh to escape Peter’s lips. "Whatever, bubblegum hair. MJ wanted me to bring another player for the game, so I did."

Gwen rolled her eyes at the nickname as everyone waited patiently to see the new player in the Spin The Bottle game. Peter peered out the doorway and beckoned with his head at the newcomer.

"Come on in, buddy." A deep sigh was heard as heavy footsteps echoed on the polished floor. It wasn’t long before the identity of the newcomer was revealed, and your eyes widened behind your mask.

It was Miguel O’Hara...

Your heart quickened, your hands clenched tightly into fists in your lap. You couldn’t believe the sight before you.

Miguel stood alongside Peter, his tall and commanding presence accentuating his distinct magnetism. His massive, sculpted frame was emphasized by the snug scarlet button-up he wore, and the shimmering golden jewelry adorning his body only amplified his already breathtaking allure. Miguel was a living work of art, an embodiment of perfection with muscles that rippled with every move, from the chiseled contours of his face down to his powerful, well-defined legs. His striking features, framed by dark, tousled hair, left no room for imperfection, making him an irresistible vision of masculinity and charm.

Hobie’s laughter snapped you from your trance, drawing everyone’s attention. "Hey mate, where’s your costume?" He asked Miguel teasingly as you looked over your shoulder at Miguel and Peter to see Miguel clench his jaw, his eyes flickering red in anger.

“Hey, hey. Settle down,” Peter said, trying to calm the situation. “Yeah, let’s play the game now.” Gwen begged as Miguel and Peter began to make their way to the empty chairs in front of you.

You tried your hardest to keep your gaze off the large, tanned male, but it was challenging with how attractive he looked, despite not making any effort to do so.

Miguel took the seat right in front of you, his amber eyes scrutinizing your appearance.

'Damn, you are even better up close.'

He thought to himself, taking the time for his eyes to trail over your every being. His breathing became heavier, his eyes flashing red in arousal as he continued to look at you.

“Okay, now that everyone is here,” MJ began with a smile. “Let’s start!” A round of cheers emerged from the players, but you and Miguel were silent. You, trying your hardest to keep your gaze on your lap and calm your racing heart, and Miguel instilling every action and look you made into his brain.

After a while of decision, a choice was made for Miles to go first. “Well, I hope I make a good spin,” he chuckled, leaning over to give the empty wine bottle a spin.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats as the bottle soon slowed down to land on Margo. She smirked, looking beside her at Miles. “Guess I’m the lucky candidate,” she chuckled as Miles leaned over to pick out a small slip of folded paper in a bowl on a nearby table. He opened it and began to read aloud either a challenge or a deep question that had to be answered by the chosen player.

“Okay Margo, my paper says, 'Who in the room do you think has the best sense of humor?'”

Your eyes glanced around the circle, wondering who would be a good choice for the question.

You were honestly stuck between Hobie and Peter. They both, in their own way, were funny guys, but you wondered what Margo would choose.

She looked around the circle with a grin. “That’s an easy question…” she hummed when a mischievous smile spread across her lips.

“Me.”

The room erupted in groans and laughs. You giggled, and when you glanced up, you saw Miguel looking back at you, a faint smile on his lips. You blushed and looked away, but Peter couldn’t resist chiming in. “Oh, come on! I know you were thinking of me, weren't you, Margo?”

“To be honest, no,” Margo laughed, causing another round of laughter to erupt and Peter to pout. MJ smiled, running a soothing hand through his hair. “You can’t be chosen for everything, baby,” she consoled Peter as the game continued.

“Who’s next!?” Gwen exclaimed, her excitement evident, eager to join the game. “It’s Margo's turn. Whoever the bottle lands on goes next,” MJ explained, leaving Gwen with a slight pout.

You gave her a small smile and patted her arm, speaking timidly. “I-It’ll be your turn soon.” Gwen nodded before a huge grin spread across her lips. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight.

“I honestly can’t wait until it’s your turn. You might get to do something a little cheeky with—”

“D-Don’t say that!” You exclaimed in a hushed tone, causing her to laugh. “I-I already couldn’t function before, and now that…he’s here, I-I just can’t.” You said quietly. Gwen smirked, patting your thigh. “It’s called being highly attracted to someone. I get it too.”

“B-but I can’t…h-he doesn’t even like me,” you said sadly, biting your lip. Gwen shrugged her shoulders with a smile. “How do you know? You’ve never asked him.”

Gwen was right; you’ve never asked Miguel if he was interested in you or not, but Miguel is honestly an unapproachable person. He’s so very intimidating and indecipherable that it’s scary talking to him even for normal, simple things.

Just the thought of coming to him asking if he, the Spider Society leader, has a thing for you, a spider woman who becomes a total klutz around him.

You couldn't bear the thought of what he might say…

You breathed a sigh as Gwen’s eyebrows furrowed. She shook her head, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “Hey…don’t worry about that right now. Let’s just enjoy the game.” You smiled softly at her before turning your attention back onto the game to hear Peter talking about Mayday.

“-And that’s when I knew my daughter was going to be just like me, so that’s why I choose Mayday as the person who I'll switch places with for a week.”

A series of groans erupted after Peter’s words.

But Miguel was only half-listening...

His attention had been diverted by your quiet conversation with your best friend, Gwen, which he couldn't help but overhear due to his enhanced hearing.

'Who is my sexy gatita talking about?'

He wondered, his amber eyes subtly scanning your figure as he caught the tail end of Peter’s words. Miguel groaned at the sound of Peter mentioning his daughter once again, his focus returning to the game as he sat with one ankle resting on top of the opposite knee.

He was well aware that one of these questions would inevitably trigger Peter to launch into a monologue about his beloved daughter. It wasn't that Miguel had any ill feelings towards Mayday, the young child was perfectly fine. It was Peter's ceaseless chatter about his daughter that grated on Miguel's nerves.

He understood it stemmed from Peter's boundless love for his family, but there came a time when even love had its limits.

"Must you always talk about Mayday?" Miguel's deep voice resonated through the room, bringing the ongoing chatter to a halt. His presence, let alone his voice, held so much power that it silenced everyone in the room, their eyes focused on him. His amber eyes surveyed the others before settling on Peter. Peter heaved a heavy sigh, waving a dismissive hand at Miguel. "You'll understand when you experience even a fraction of unconditional love for someone. Then, you'll comprehend how I feel about my daughter and loving wife," he explained. MJ rolled her eyes, a smirk playing on her pink lips at her husband’s words.

Miguel’s eyes flickered over to you who was gazing at Peter and MJ. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was what he was feeling about you…

Love…

Or lust

“Can we continue?” Hobie chimed in, his dark brown eyes looking between Miguel and Peter. “I’m ready for some spicy stuff.”

"I... didn't add anything like that to the bowl, Hobie," MJ stated honestly, prompting Hobie to groan and run a frustrated hand over his ebony face. "Come on!? Really!?" he exclaimed, his British accent thick in his voice. "Then let's make up our own then. Fuck the bowl!" He announced, his dark brown eyes scanning the circle.

Your cheeks flushed with nervousness at Hobie's suggestion. You glanced at Gwen, who was smirking mischievously at you. "Yeah, I agree, forget the bowl."

In that moment, you wished you could disappear.

'Why, oh why, are you doing this, Gwen!?'

You thought, your black heeled boot tapping nervously on the floor as you bit your reddened lip.

Miguel experienced a rush of mixed emotions at Hobie's words. The change in the rules was unexpected and filled him with a sense of dread, but it also...

Stirred a sense of excitement...

His eyes drifted to you, your anxiety palpable. He still didn't know your name, but he was eager to do anything with you at this point.

He didn't know what excited him more...

Your alluring costume, accentuating every aspect of your exquisite figure and curves...

Or your shyness, which was so cute that it warmed his heart.

Miguel sighed, briefly torn between the two enticing qualities. Nevertheless, he shifted his focus back to the game, noticing that the majority of the circle had agreed to the new rules. As Peter spun the empty bottle on the table, you were a bundle of nerves, your heart pounding loudly in your chest.

Relief washed over you when the bottle didn't land on you.

Instead, it pointed directly at Hobie.

Hobie, his lips adorned with a silver ring, broke into a confident smirk upon being chosen by the wine bottle. "Hell yeah. Now we're talking!" he exclaimed, turning his gaze to Peter. "Give me a good one, mate." Peter chuckled and, playfully, teased everyone by drawing out the moment.

MJ smacked his arm in mock irritation. "Stop playing around," she giggled, causing Peter to join in the laughter. Finally, he relented and posed a question to Hobie. "You wanted a good one, so I'll ask a question."

Hobie leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin adorning his face. "Lay it on me," he said confidently.

"Share with the lovely players and myself a secret turn-on of yours that you've never told anyone,"

Hobie's eyebrows rose for a brief second at Peter's unexpecting question, but his smirk widened. This was a question you hadn't anticipated, but now that it was on the table, you couldn't help but lean around Gwen to get a closer look at Hobie, waiting with bated breath for his response.

"I'm really into teasing."

Some people's eyes widened at the nonchalance in his voice. Hobie chuckled at the sight of the stunned reactions. "Don't look at me like that," he snickered, biting his lip ring. "Let me tell you what I mean by... teasing... for the uneducated ones," he teased, glancing over at Miles, who scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Hobie looked around the circle, his voice becoming hushed and alluring as he spoke. "I'm talking about the type of teasing that is so good and blissful, yet so wicked and cruel," he explained. He leaned closer, propping his elbows onto his knees, his intense amber eyes fixing on each individual in the circle. His words drew everyone in, making them feel the intensity of his desires.

"The type of teasing that delays the main event. That has you sexually frustrated and begging your lover to continue...

To do...

More..."

He paused, allowing his words to hang in the air for a moment.

"Do you all catch my drift?"

Silence filled the guest room, and you felt your mouth go dry. You bit your lip, your body heating up. Hobie's enticing words filled your mind with lewd thoughts of Miguel.

Him teasing you with his tongue and fangs.

Touching you with his large, veiny hands,

Whispering naughty things into your ear...

You squeezed your thighs together in your seat, blushing a little. When you briefly glanced at Miguel, he met your eyes with his crimson ones. You quickly looked down at your lap.

"O-kay!" Miles exclaimed, clasping his gloved hands together. "Sounds spicy. On to the next," he said with a polite smile. Hobie settled back in his seat, wearing a satisfied expression as if he had just earned a hard-fought reward. "Thank you for joining my Ted Talk," he quipped.

Laughter erupted after Hobie's joke, and the atmosphere became more comfortable as the game continued.

"Alright, spin that bottle!" Margo exclaimed loudly as Hobie spun it, causing the black bottle to twirl at such a fast pace that it was almost dizzying to watch.

All eyes were fixed on the spinning wine bottle, and it ultimately pointed towards Gwen. Hobie brushed his tongue along his lip ring, his gaze locked onto the twenty-one-year-old girl. "What shall I give you, Gwendy? Hmm?" he smirked, earning an eye roll from Gwen. "Come on, Hobie, stop playing around," she giggled, bringing a smile to Hobie's lips. "Fine, I've got one."

"What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done or would like to do, little drummer?"

A smile spread across Gwen's lips as she twirled her witch broomstick in her fingers, her gaze scanning the room. You knew there was more to Gwen than met the eye. She was an adventurous person who likely had a lot of experiences you weren't aware of, leaving you in the dark about her answer.

"I'd say a kink I'd like to try is exhibitionism."

Your eyes widened behind your mask at Gwen's words. She wanted to engage in sensual activities in public!?

The very thought made you nervous, but you could see why it would be alluring and incredibly tempting…

Especially with Miguel.

Your mind went into overdrive, imagining all the places where you and Miguel could get a little frisky.

The Spider Society's library,

The gym,

Under the table in the cafeteria.

The possibilities seemed endless, and just the thought of Miguel being your partner in such endeavors was enough to send shivers down your spine and make you wet with desire.

Miguel's eyes instantly snapped to you. Throughout the game, he had sensed something—an arousal that stood out to him like a sore thumb, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the source.

Now, he did…

His eyes reddened as he noticed your thighs squeezed tightly together. To a regular person, your action might have gone unnoticed, but not for Miguel…

He practically smelled your sweet nectar, a subtle but alluring scent that went straight to his cock. It stirred his arousal, and his member began to slowly harden beneath his black slacks, the fabric tightening around his growing desire.

He bit his lip harshly, his fangs sinking into his flesh, as he wanted nothing more than to grasp your soft thighs in his hands, part your legs, and taste just how sweet your essence truly was…

A low, involuntary groan escaped him as he fought to contain his desire. He pulled his ankle higher up his opposite knee, trying to hide his growing excitement.

"Oh really, Gwendy?" Hobie teased, drawing everyone's attention back to the game. Gwen waved her hand dismissively at him. "That's all you get," she laughed before looking down at the bottle. "Finally! Now I can spin!" She shot you a mischievous glance before giving the bottle a spin.

You knew that look Gwen had given you.

She was hoping it would land on you.

Your heart started to race as you bit your lips anxiously, your legs bouncing nervously, increasing in speed whilst you watched the bottle slowly come to a stop.

It was like Gwen had powers other than her spider abilities..

Because it happened…

The bottle landed on you.

Your heart sank as the bottle pointed at you, and you found yourself in the hot seat. You turned your eyes to Gwen, who was already smirking back at you, clearly delighted that the bottle had chosen you.

"Finally, it's your turn to take the hot seat, Y/N."

Your name...

Miguel had finally learned it.

‘Y/N,’ he repeated in his head, his flickering red eyes studying you with newfound interest, then it all clicked into place…

"Y/N!?

As in the clumsy and timid Spiderwoman?!"

His intense gaze roved up and down your form as if he couldn't believe his eyes. The nerdy woman he had welcomed into the society not too long ago turned out to be a stunning model underneath it all, and it took his breath away.

The more he looked at you, he still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that the same girl who continually spilled her coffee in the mornings and dropped her Goober burger during lunch looked like this.

If only he had seen you sooner...

He bit his lip, filled with anticipation, wondering what spicy question your friend would dare you to answer, because she wouldn't dare to push a shy, timid girl like you out of your comfort zone...

Right?

You silently begged Gwen with your eyes, hoping she wouldn't put you in an uncomfortable situation; however, Gwen had a knack for getting you out of your shell and right into the scorching, hot seat…

"Y/N, I dare you to share a passionate kiss with Miguel for 30 seconds."

Your entire body seemed to freeze in shock, struggling to comprehend what Gwen had just asked of you. The room filled with surprised glances, and even a few cheers hinted at the anticipation that things were about to get interesting. You gulped, turning your gaze to Miguel. Amid the cheers of the players, his carmine orbs locked with yours. While his expression remained stern, his eyes held an enigmatic allure, something you couldn't quite define, yet it drew you in nonetheless.

"Why Miguel?" Margo inquired with a chuckle, snapping you from your trance. Your heart was thumping rapidly in your chest at what Gwen’s response could be, but you should have known that Gwen always had a trick up her sleeve.

After all, she was a master of manipulation...

"The two of them have been rather quiet. I thought it'd help loosen their nerves," Gwen explained, her words met with sounds of approval and agreement from the guests, only serving to deepen the scarlet hue on your cheeks.

You locked eyes with Miguel once more, finding a small smirk gracing his lips. His amber eyes shifted to a deep crimson as he cleared his throat, lowering his legs to the floor and leaning back in his chair, welcoming you with his body language.

"Well then, let's go, Y/N!" Margo exclaimed, joining the chorus of encouragement as peer pressure began to take hold. The room filled with voices urging you on, and you sighed, unsteadily getting to your feet.

"O-okay," you stammered, Miguel's eyes shifting to a deeper shade of red with each step you took.

Miguel was undeniably aroused by the situation. The mere sight of you walking toward him ignited a powerful desire to touch you to course through his veins.

"Sit on his lap, Y/N!"

Gwen's shout from behind you only deepening your blush. You knew that if you didn't do what Gwen said, she'd tease you relentlessly for the rest of the night. You approached Miguel with a pounding heart and a timid demeanor.

"I-is that okay?" you stammered, your voice thick with shyness. "I-if I sit in your lap?"

Miguel couldn't help but smile, a sly grin spreading across his tanned lips. Your bashful words only exciting him further. "If you'd like," he huskily answered, parting his legs to welcome you. Your eyes couldn't help but trace his toned thighs beneath his black slacks.

You almost drooled at the sight…

A rush of newfound boldness surged through you as you climbed onto his lap, your legs resting on either side of his. Even in his seated position, Miguel's impressive height and strength were unmistakable. His body felt solid and muscular beneath you, and you couldn't help but gasp at how built he was.

You shakingly exhaled, nervous about what to do next. Your entire body was completely hot and the close proximity between Miguel and yourself wasn’t helping at all.

You bit your lip, feeling his thighs pressing into your own and just the thought of his crotch against your bottom made you blush even more. Miguel smirked up at you, the telltale signs of your anxiety evident. He gently took your chin in his thick fingers, lifting it for your eyes to meet his red ones. "Just focus on me, Cariño," he whispered, his eyes carefully tracing your face whist his thumb caressed your jaw. "It's just a challenge." He reassured.

A charming smile played on his lips, his sharp canines catching the light and capturing your attention as he spoke. The sight of his redden orbs, sharp teeth, touch and words only made your body burn up. His demeanor and actions were very unexpected. Your breath catching in your throat and your heart racing at his gentleness.

Miguel was mostly cold and distant toward you, unable to maintain eye contact before a clumsy mistake left him cursing under his breath and looking away in annoyance and second-hand embarrassment. So, the idea of receiving comforting words and his feather-like touch was something you could only dream about, unable to believe it could ever be real.

You gulped, feeling as though the entire world had disappeared in that electrifying moment, leaving just you and Miguel. Shakingly, you nodded, causing Miguel's smirk to deepen.

The sizzling intensity in your gaze was matched by Miguel's as you began to lean closer, your lips tantalizingly close to each other. The anticipation was palpable, with an overwhelming longing and yearning building between the two of you.

As you drew nearer, that longing and eagerness swelled, breaking free of restraint. Finally, your lips met in a passionate, searing kiss that took you both by surprise. A soft moan escaped you, his lips, surprisingly soft and inviting, met yours, contrasting with his usual cold and grumpy demeanor.

With each passing moment, your initial shyness melted away, replaced by newfound boldness. Your fingers tangled in his dark brown curls, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. Miguel groaned, his large hand finding its way to the small of your back, pulling you tightly against him and pressing your bodies together. The heat radiating between you was almost tangible, your tongues, engaged in a fiery dance, igniting sensations that satisfied a profound hunger you both hadn't known existed.

Lost in each other, the world around you faded into oblivion. The 30 seconds allotted for the challenge came and went, but you and Miguel continued with your passionate exchange. Heavy breaths mingled, your focus remained solely on each other as desire burned hotter with every passing second.

A surprised moan escaped your lips when you felt Miguel's large hand grope your ass through your leopard costume. His thick fingers pressing into the flesh that made you even more blinded by lust for him.

He grinned against your swollen lips at your cute reaction, spurring his desire even further. The two of you continuing to kiss hungrily, his fangs occasionally nipping your lips, intensifying your craving for him which only caused you to pull him closer with much fervor…

…

"Damn! They are still at it!"

Hobie's exclamation brought you back to reality, and you realized the audience that had been watching your heated exchange. You hastily pulled away from Miguel's lips, his intense gaze and smirking, bitten lips reflecting his lust for more. Your body felt hot and flustered, and you were acutely aware of the places he had touched you, especially your bottom.

Feeling your embarrassment and regret, you quickly climbed off Miguel's lap and returned to your seat, keeping your gaze down to avoid meeting anyone's eyes.

The thought of kissing the leader of the Spider Society in front of everyone weighed heavily on your mind, and you questioned your decision to participate in this game, let alone, come to this party.

Gwen glanced over at you and Miguel, a smile spreading across her face as she then started back up the game to get you out of the hot seat. She even spun for you, but no one could ignore the obvious tension in the air.

Miguel's crimson eyes, blown with lust continuously met your timid form, a sly grin spreading across his lips the longer he stared at you.

He had plans for his sexy, timid gatita, plans that would push you to step out of your comfort zones and embrace the desires that had ignited between the two of you...

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed Part 1 of the Halloween Special. Stay tuned for part 2! 🕸️😁👻🕸️

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