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ichorai · 11 months

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snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst

warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)

a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!

main masterlist.

You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly.

When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow.

“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.

Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.

“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

A beat of silence.

“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard.

You took a step back. “My universe…?”

After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”

You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best.

But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.

It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.

Right?

“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him.

The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto.

Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you.

“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!”

Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.

“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”

Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air.

Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view.

“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless.

Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.

Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples.

Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense.

Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.

Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”

A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit.

“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”

“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.”

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal.”

With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.

“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”

You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained.

“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.”

There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.

You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”

Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.

If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.

“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”

The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.

“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.

“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”

“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression.

“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”

You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!”

His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”

“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”

With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out.

“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”

Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”

Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.

Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”

To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.

“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence.

You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”

The months pass by in a blur.

You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him.

“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier.

“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”

You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.

“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”

With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”

The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal.

Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.

As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip.

“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.

Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”

Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.

Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.

But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.

Then there was you.

It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.

Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—

To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.

It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face.

“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”

“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”

“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”

Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”

Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps.

You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.

“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.”

“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”

You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”

“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!”

You blinked.

“What?”

Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.

“What?” he parroted.

“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”

“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?”

Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”

You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.

Miguel was crazy about you?

After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).

“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”

“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.

He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”

“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”

Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”

There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.

“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago.

You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips.

With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.

“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”

A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.

The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?”

Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.

Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.

You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite.

“Oka—mmph!”

His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper.

When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.

“He was right,” said Miguel.

“Who was?”

“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”

At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”

You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”

His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you.

When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.

He was falling in love with you.

The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfic #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara #spider-man 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv fanfiction

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murdrdocs · 10 months

Note

Miguel totally loves watching reader walk around the house, especially since her hips widened and her breasts became bigger with her little bump like she’s about 3 or 4 months pregnant, she just started showing and whenever he can he just loves fucking her over any counter grabbing at her thighs, ass and her tits. ughhh 😫

In conclusion Miguel loves pregnant sex.

oh he does trust me i would know

when she’s in the fourth month, the start of the second trimester, and there’s that glow to her skin, miguel already finds her irresistible.

she’s smiling more, practically frolicking around the house in the maternity dresses, and she just looks so in love with miguel and the life inside of her. the baby. their baby. his baby.

miguel can’t stay away.

he’s kissing all over her from the moment they wake up, to the moment they go to sleep. he’s rubbing his hands along her muscles and running them along her belly in the shower in the morning, and he’s tracing those same patterns with his lips when they’re supposed to be brushing their teeth at night.

he’s whispering things, little phrases and words that give away how much he wants her, when there’s food cooking on the stove or when they’re watching a show late in the evening.

miguel has her pressed against his chest, big palms holding her tits and forced between her legs when she’s about to go for a bathroom break, or when she asked for his help cleaning the kitchen.

it’s like anytime miguel is near her, he’s in heat, driven by desire, encouraged by just the sight of how she’s filling out, what the pregnancy is doing to her.

he doesn’t understand exactly why he’s like this, but when she’s laid back on the table in place of dinner that can wait another 10 or so minutes, his mouth between her legs and his hands on the soft skin of her belly— he thinks he can figure it out at another time.

#i loveee miguel n pregnant sex 😁#and peter b in there MHMMM #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #spider-man 2099 x reader #spider-man 2099 x you #spider-man 2099 smut

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bensolosbluesaber · 11 months

Text

Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending

A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.

EDIT: Part 2

A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger. For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.

He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.

You shot out another web. It caught a window, and you took a sharp corner then another trying to lose the hunter.

Seventy seconds until you could safely open another portal. Well safe was a relative measure. Ideally you would allow a full day between jumps, but if you only had twelve hours, well then odds of survival rose to about fifty-fifty. Anything less than twelve hours and implosion was basically guaranteed.

Sixty-eight. You extended your legs for more momentum, rolled in the air, shot out two webs and used them to zip forward. Sixty-two. 2099 was fast, faster than you. You didn’t dare to look back to see if he was still in pursuit.

He protected the multiverse, kept it from collapsing in on itself, and you put the entire web of connection at risk just by being alive outside of your universe. You didn’t begrudge 2099 for what he thought he had to do. Maybe it was true that your presence could cause a universe to collapse, but you were careful not to stay for too long, not to interact with the Spider of that universe, not to fight any super-villains. If he could just understand that you were careful, that you didn’t want a multiversal collapse anymore than he did, maybe he would be reasonable.

Then again, maybe not. He was relentless, and from what little you had heard of Spider-Man 2099, he wasn’t one for talk and negotiation.

Fifty-five. You dived down, shot another web, swung again. You could never go back to your world’s boundless emptiness and not another living soul. That thought kept your exhausted muscles working. Fifty. The void was all that remained of your collapsed universe, a void in which you could not die but where no one else could live.

Forty-eight. Forty seven. This block was all future, half-built apartment buildings.

Thirty. You’d long ago lost your suit. All that remained was the mask that obscured your face. You must look ridiculous swinging around in stolen street-clothes: a baggy sweatshirt, leggings, dirty sneakers.

Twenty-one. Nearly there. Just a few-

A solid mass of muscle stole the breath from your lungs and flattened you into a cement wall. Claws shattered the cement beside your head into a fine gray powder. A hand closed around your throat, and you were crushed between the blue and red clad Spider-Man and the wall.

He was pure muscle. This was the closest you’d ever been to 2099, and his sheer size was terrifying. The red lines on his mask narrowed with his eyes as he studied you.

Eighteen. You pushed at his broad chest, struggling desperately to fight him off, but he was enhanced too and probably well-fed and rested - two things you were not.

“Stop fighting me,” 2099 growled into your ear, his voice a deep rumble that you felt in his chest.

“I won’t go back.” You choked out the words while you planted a knee against him and tried to kick him away. Your efforts were utterly useless. Quite literally, you could feel muscles rippling across his chest and arms as he held you against the wall while you trid to wriggle free.

In the corner of your eye, you watched the red numbers tick down. Six. Five. Was it even possible? It had to be.

2099 brought you forward then slammed you into the wall again. The impact made your head spin. The red lines of his mask doubled and tripled. He was trying to get something around your wrist.

“Hold still!”

Two.

With the last vestige of strength left in your body, you brought a hand to his face and shot a wad of webbing at his eyes. He growled and stopped his attempt to hand-cuff you - or whatever he was doing - to wipe the webbing away. For a second he was distracted. You imagined the glowing golden portal. Closed your eyes. Energy sparked in your body, coursed through your veins and arm. You shot a web at the wall behind you. It shimmered gold, dim gold, but still gold.

There was a moment where you thought it hadn't worked. Then the wall crumbled away and you felt wind whip you backward as a bright gold light filled the space. 2099 reached for you, claws extended. Four knife-like talons dug into your shoulder, ripping through the ratty sweater, digging into your skin, and tearing four long bloody stripes into your flesh as the portal drug you away..

You planted both feet on his stomach and kicked him off. A bright red web shot out from 2099’s hand to tangle in a tree. The last thing you saw was 2099 falling then catching himself before you tumbled away from him and toward a new universe.

It was raining on this new Earth. Actually, ‘raining’ was a bit of an understatement. It was absolutely pouring, and you were soaked before you hit the ground. Hard.

You hadn't been as focused as you needed to be, and the portal had opened in the sky and dropped you ten feet to the roof of a towering building in some universe’s version of New York. You couldn’t tear the mask from your face quick enough as you gasped desperately for air. 2099 was strong, and he’d smashed you half a foot into solid cement.

Your ribs ached. So did your head for that matter. But it was the dull ache spreading across your shoulder, down your arm, and seeping through your muscles like liquid fire that really made you afraid.

The gray of your stolen sweater was soaked in crimson blood. Carefully, you pushed the stained fabric over your shoulder.

Shit. Shit!

Beneath the torn fabric, your skin glowed a sickly, dare you say radioactive red - the same red as 2099’s suit. His talons must have been poisoned, and now that poison was making it’s way through your body, causing unknown damage and immense pain. There had to be a lab on this Earth. Right? If you could only get there, you were smart enough to whip up an antidote.

But as you stood, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. The poison was potent and fast-acting. Insanely, you wondered if it was really poison or if you should be calling it venom. It didn’t matter, because a moment after gaining your feet, your legs failed. You careened forward and nearly smashed your head again, only just catching yourself before slowly laying down in the rainwater.

City lights sparkled in the distance and reflected in the puddle forming around your head. Purple and blues and few bright yellows. Not a bad view if this was how you died. If only the poison weren’t so painful. You wanted to scream, but you lacked the strength.

A familiar tingle shot across your spine a second before the bright gold light of a portal obscured the reflection of the city lights. No! He was so close when you jumped universe’s. He must have tracked you; no wonder he hadn't bothered to chase you through the portal.

You scrambled backwards weakly, your feet struggling for purchase on the slick roof as the broad shouldered man appeared. He was wreathed in gold light. You couldn’t jump again, couldn’t even stand, could barely drag your body through the rain as Spider-Man 2099 strode closer.

“Nowhere to run,” he said. His voice was flat, like he took no pleasure in finally having you trapped.

“I won’t go back!” You tried to sound tough, strong, but your voice cracked over the words. “There’s nothing there. I can’t. I’d rather die than- than go back to nothing. 2099, don’t send me back”

Your fingers felt the ledge of the building and empty air beyond it. Poison. Fall. The clawed Spider-Man. A slow descent into madness trapped in the empty and endless remains of your home universe. A fall seemed fastest. But you didn’t want to. You were scared. You didn’t really want to die. Your shoulder throbbed and head filled with fog. The skin was glowing such a bright red you could see it in the corner of your eye.

In the brief moment you hesitated, he was on you. 2099’s red webs wrapped around your chest, and he yanked you forward and away from the ledge. You crumpled at his feet, and he just stared down at you through that mask. His blue and red mask swam in your vision as you stared up at him. Was it the rain that was so cold? Or was it the poison? No, venom. Poison? Venom?

2099’s face got bigger as he knelt beside you.

“What is this?” He pulled at the torn sweater, his gaze falling on the bright red mottling your skin.

Miguel O’Hara had never seen his claws damage anyone like this. There was no venom in them… unless in whatever universe you had come from something about them was venomous. It was possible. His fangs were venomous, that he did know.

Miguel pulled off his mask, the adrenaline of the chase fading while he watched you struggle for life. He’d meant to stop you, take you back to base, figure out where you’d come from… not kill you. He ran his tongue over one of the fangs protruding from his mouth.

The next thing you knew, 2099 was sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap. It might have all been a dream, you couldn’t tell. The lights were so beautiful. Your head lolled to one side, your whole body limp as a ragdoll in his muscular arms. His face filled your vision and blocked out the pretty lights.

He had a strong jawline, dark curls, sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and were those fangs? And were his eyes glowing red? Yes, two orbs as red as the suit and your poisoned skin shone down at you. He was pretty too. This had to be a dream. The monster chasing you couldn’t be so handsome. You blinked, eyes unfocused. Your Spidey-sense was going wild, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. 2099 was warm, and you could go to sleep right here.

He shifted your body again so your side was pressed against his chest. “2099,” you whispered weakly, pathetically.

“I’m sorry for this,” he whispered in that low growl. Now it was tinged with what almost sounded like real regret. “It’s the best I can think of.”

He guided your head to rest in the curve of his shoulder, face turned toward his neck. One hand brushed hair away from your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. His fingers were no longer clawed, and his movements were gentle as he held you close, muscles tensing underneath your body. The expression on his face was tender. It seemed impossible that this was the same man who had made you his prey for months.

“Don’t panic now,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to your neck. “Stay still.”

You were barely aware of what was happening. His lips were warm, then four sharp pricks stung the base of your neck just above your collarbone and the deep poisoned wounds. Panic tried to rise in your throat, but you weren’t conscious enough to really process that a man currently had his fangs sunk into your throat. He drew back and spit out bright red poison, then bit into you again. Then again. And again.

Miguel was exceptionally careful with you, holding you perfectly still and being sure to sink his fangs into the same spot each time so as not to mark your skin any more than necessary.

Slowly, the world began coming back into focus. You were exhausted, but the poison was being was successfully being leeched from your system by his fangs. Brown curls were the first thing you became aware of, then the almost unnatural warmth coming from the man beneath you, then the cold pricks on rain on your back, then... then that something was biting you. Before you could wrench your head back, a large hand cradled the back of your head. You desperately tried to struggle as you realized what this vampiric Spider-Man was doing to you. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held your head still.

2099 pulled his fangs from your neck, spit bright red then let go of your head. You sat up quickly. The movement made you dizzy.

“I know you’re scared.” Miguel could see the fear in your eyes. He nodded to your still glowing shoulder. It was dimmer now and hurt less, but it was still obvious poisoned. “But this is working. Let me help you.”

You were looking him right in the eyes, the glowing red eyes, and though you didn’t trust him, you knew instinctively he was right.

“Okay,” you breathed lowly.

You laid your head on his shoulder. Miguel could feel how your whole body trembled, but whether it was from fear or cold or something else entirely he couldn’t tell. When his lips touched your skin you whimpered. That was fear.

Miguel still had one arm around you, but he took your hand in his free one, interlaced your fingers, and squeezed once. Then he sunk his fangs into your neck. It stung a bit but didn’t really hurt. Now that your were conscious, you could feel the poison being drawn toward the spot where his mouth connected to your skin. That didn’t really hurt either. It was like stretching a sore muscle - a satisfying pain that ultimately brought relief.

2099 drew back to spit out his poison. When was the last time you’d touched someone like this? A touch that was more than an accidental brush in the street - or a purposeful one so you could steal someone’s wallet. 2099 was your enemy, your hunter. He was dangerous. But he was saving your life and holding you so tenderly it made your chest ache.

“Once more,” he promised.

His fangs brushed over your skin for the last time. You pulled your hand from his and splayed your fingers across his chest. 2099 brought his now free hand to your poisoned shoulder and pushed the ripped fabric apart.

Miguel watched the last of the poison be pulled from your veins as it filled his mouth. He spit it out then turned back to study how your body was pressed against him.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. Then panic hit and you jerked back, still sitting on his lap but with your face now safely away from his fangs. “You- you’re going to send me back. 2099, please don’t.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Miguel.”

Miguel. 2099 had a name. Of course he did, but hearing it made him seem so human. And his face was handsome. That was no venom or poison induced hallucination. The man was beautiful.

“And no. Not yet.”

“My universe collapsed. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

His red eyes softened as they met yours.

“We won’t send you back to an empty universe,” he paused, and one side of his lips twitched up. “You ran because you thought I’d send you back to a void? I see I have quite the reputation.”

Miguel lifted you to your feet easily. He set you on your feet and tapped the watch-like contraption on his wrist. You leaned against his muscled chest for stability. Even without his poison, you were still wounded and tired and malnourished. A portal spiraled out in front of you both.

“You promise not to send me back there?” You looked up at Miguel. He squinted at the portal’s bright light and tugged the mask back over his face.

“Promise.”

To be continued...

Part 2

A/N: Part 2 will be a little time jump, and we’ll actually see Miguel and reader get into a relationship!

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dameronscopilot · 11 months

Text

burrowed in under my skin

miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: years spent apart and a shiny new ring on your finger still don't stand a chance against the way you feel when you look at miguel o'hara.

word count: 2.8k

18+ content: NSFW, smut, infidelity, angst with a hopeful ending, feels, biting, a bit of blood, dirty talk, possessive!miguel, fingering, oral sex (m!receiving), unprotected p in v, sex against a wall!, creampie

A small part of you always knew he would come back.

Miguel’s hair is wet from the storm raging outside when he silently climbs in through the window in your bedroom, remnants of the rain following him inside. Pausing in the doorway, your breath catches in your throat as your arm freezes midair, fingers aborting their journey toward the light switch on the wall. Your hand drops uselessly back to your side as you tighten your grip on the laundry basket balancing against your hip, eyes roving over the sight of Miguel fucking O’Hara dripping all over your goddamn hardwood floors.

Bathed in the soft glow of string lights framing the curtains, you feel an ache of concern as your eyes track across a fresh cut along his jaw. It’s a fleeting emotion, one that you quickly stomp down and kick to the side—he’s no longer your concern.

Briefly, you let your gaze pointedly fall to the rainwater accumulating beneath his sodden form, and the corner of Miguel’s mouth quirks upward so slightly you’re not quite sure if you imagined it.

He hastily tugs off the scarf that’s around his neck, dropping it to the ground and wiping up the water with his foot.

“You always did like to clean up your messes,” you comment, your mild tone a direct contrast to the frantic rhythm trembling in your chest.

He shrugs off his jacket, and you briefly consider shoving him right back out the still-open window as your eyes betray you, greedily roving over the way the damp, white cotton clings to his broad chest.

“You still leave this window unlocked,” he observes quietly, idly toying with the small plastic lock before sliding it shut.

“Force of habit,” you mutter, putting the basket down beside your closet and folding your arms across your chest as you turn back to Miguel.

Some things about your room have changed in the years that Miguel has been gone, like the pale blue bedspread that you’d never really liked and the collection of framed photos spread out across the top of your dresser. But there are also things that remain wholly the same, untouched—like your dad’s tattered old hat hanging on the wall and the well-loved, faded copy of Miguel’s favorite book nestled amongst your own collection on a shelf in the corner.

But there’s something else that’s changed, too. And you catch the exact moment Miguel notices it—his entire body tensing as you curl your left hand against your forearm, the diamond on your finger falling into his line of sight. You let your arms fall back to your sides, hands tightening into fists while something hard reflects across his features.

“You left.”

He looks away, running a hand through his hair.

“I know.”

Miguel always left.

He wasn’t even from your universe, after all.

You’d gotten used to it, for a while—the stolen moments with him. The starved touches, the desperate kisses, sex that left you aching for him again long after he snuck back out into the night…to another place. Another time. Another plane of existence entirely.

Just once, you’d pleaded for Miguel to take you with him. To let you pack your bags and leave your life—your universe—behind.

You would have done it. Would have done anything for him, really. Even though you’d known what his answer would be before the words left his mouth, the weight of the obligations the suit plastered across his chest demanded far outweighing the scraps of borrowed time he stole with you.

The sorrowful regret in his eyes had been answer enough.

And when Miguel left that night, you both knew he wasn’t coming back.

He couldn’t, for both of your sakes.

So to find him standing in the middle of your bedroom now, each of you taking a step toward one another like you can’t quite help but give in to the magnetic pull of whatever invisible string is now pulled taut once more between you? It leaves you feeling off kilter, shaken. Thrumming with anticipation. You sway just enough that Miguel reaches out an arm to steady you, his grip firm against your shoulder for a heartbeat.

He’s too late.

He’s too fucking late.

Half of your living room is packed neatly into the cardboard boxes piled neatly behind your couch, the kitchen next on your list to dismantle for your impending move across town to your fiancé’s much larger home. The weight of the ring on your finger that you’ve only just grown used to begins to feel foreign again as Miguel takes your hand and gazes down at it.

“You hate gold,” he muses, taking in the ornate design of a band that, admittedly, isn’t something you would have picked for yourself.

“It’s growing on me,” you protest as you snatch your hand back, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“Hmm.”

It’s a noncommittal sound, one that most would brush off as a bland response. But you know Miguel, can nearly see the thoughts churning in his head by way of the slight tick of his jaw alone.

“Do you love him?” he asks, the question nearly drowned out by the sound of thunder rumbling outside.

You don’t know why you hesitate, why you suddenly find it so hard to arrange three letters into one simple word. The word catches on your tongue, stubbornly lodged in the back of your throat and leaving your lips gaping for a beat like a fish out of water. Maybe it’s because you know Miguel won’t hesitate to leave the moment you say it, leaving behind nothing but the licks of rain he brought in his wake.

Lightning flashes outside, illuminating your face, and he tracks the way you bite your lower lip before you admit, “I don’t know.”

Miguel takes another step forward, close enough that you can feel the warm caress of his body heat. Shamelessly, you inhale as his familiar scent curls around you, something inside of you cracking open in response.

“Tell me to leave,” he murmurs, lifting a hand and running his callused thumb along the curve of your jaw.

But you don’t.

You can’t.

Instead, you tilt your head to the side, drawing an audible intake of breath from the man in front of you as you expose your neck to him. He curses quietly, and you can feel the faintest whisper of claws against your cheek before he leans in.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, voice rough as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear.

You ignore him, pressing close enough that you can feel the steady beating of his heart in his chest. A sound of frustration leaves Miguel, one of his hands coming to grasp at your waist as he wars with the rapidly dissolving dregs of his self control.

A shiver crawls up your spine at the feeling of his fangs trailing down your neck, coming to a stop at the curve of your shoulder. He pulls his head back slightly, running two fingers over the place where the smooth expanse of your skin is disrupted by the feeling of slightly raised scar tissue. And you can’t help it, the breathy little sound you let out at the memory of him sinking his teeth into you while he fucked you. The way your lips part at the undeniably possessive way he kisses the spot, flicking his tongue over it.

Miguel pulls away again, eyes meeting yours. There’s a note of desperation his tone when he asks, “Where is he?”

For a moment, you have no idea what he’s talking about, no recollection of why you shouldn’t be doing this until he threads his hand with yours and jostles the ring on your finger.

And as horrible as it is, you can’t bring yourself to care as you look right back at him, gaze unwavering when you respond, “He’s not here.”

A part of you will always belong to Miguel O’Hara, no matter what universe he’s in.

It’s the part of you that’s felt so fucking empty every single day that he’s been gone. The dull ache that bloomed sharp and hot the moment you laid eyes upon him tonight, flaring back to life like a wildfire across your chest.

“I missed you,” you admit on a quiet exhale.

A nearly imperceptible shudder runs through him as he rests his forehead against yours and rasps, “I’m sorry.”

And when he eventually cups your face in both of his hands, the raging storm outside goes wholly silent as he lets one last question dance in his eyes.

Do you still want this?

Your head’s barely begun to dip with a nod before Miguel’s lips crash against yours, the rest of your world slipping away under the swift current of desperation in his kiss. For all his reservations moments prior, there’s nothing hesitant in the way his mouth claims yours, tongue flirting with the seam of your mouth as he grasps the back of your head. And you can’t help it, the way you go pliant under his touch, your needy whimper in response to the pointed tug of his fangs on your bottom lip. The shameless way you rock into the thick thigh he slots between your legs, your silk sleep shorts helpless against the firm denim of his jeans.

“Missed you so much,” he groans against your mouth, his palm a searing brand as it presses into the dip of your lower back.

“Miguel,” you breathe, caught somewhere between a whine and a moan.

A soft growl escapes him at the sound of his name on your lips, both of his hands now firmly grasping your hips, the firm outline of his cock pressing into you. There’s nothing subtle about the way you gasp into his mouth, chasing the delicious friction.

He reaches between you, cupping your clothed cunt with his hand and rasping, “Missed this, too.”

You know he can feel how wet you are already, arousal soaking clean through your underwear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he’s slipping a finger up through your shorts and tugging your panties aside to tease at your slit, pupils dilating with lust at the sticky squelch of his digit sliding through your folds.

“Always so wet for me, baby,” he murmurs, his other hand sliding one of the thin straps of your tank top down your shoulder. He pulls your breast out, dragging his thumb over your peaked nipple as he continues, “Do you get this wet for him, too?”

Mind drifting to the bottle of lube tucked in your bedside drawer, you shake your head, “No.”

A sound of satisfaction rumbles in Miguel’s chest while he moves aside the other strap, letting both of your breasts spill free for him to grasp and massage.

At the feeling of his finger circling your fluttering entrance, you don’t care how desperate you sound as you whimper, “Please, Miguel.”

He doesn’t hesitate to oblige, lips slotting against yours to swallow down your keening moan when he plunges a thick finger into your dripping cunt. Lace panties straining against the stretch of his hand tugging them aside, you rock into his touch, threading one of your hands into his hair.

Miguel groans as you pull at the strands, “Gonna make you feel so fucking good tonight,” slipping another finger into the wet heat between your thighs.

You head spins with pleasure as he plunges his digits in and out of your aching cunt, more slippery arousal dripping into his palm with each and every stroke. Whether it’s a testament to how badly you missed him or just how well he knows your body, it doesn’t take long for the coiled knot of pleasure in your gut to burst open, your climax rippling through your body the moment his thumb begins to massage your aching clit.

“That’s it baby, come for me,” he croons, the tone of his voice like liquid fire in your veins. “Get that pretty pussy nice and wet for my cock.”

Legs still trembling, you drop to your knees before Miguel can lead you toward the bed, fingers scrambling to tug down his jeans. Miguel’s hips cant forward as you begin to mouth at the tip of his cock through his boxers, lapping at the wet spot of precum staining the material while you grip his thick shaft.

You know it’s a battle of restraint for Miguel to hold still as you slide off his boxers, eyes hungrily taking in his hard, flushed cock, cunt already clenching again in anticipation of feeling his length stretching you open. He breathes heavily when you slowly begin to take his length into your mouth, lips parting wide to accommodate as much of him as you can take. A salty spurt of precum hits your tongue, and you begin to lap at his cock, wrapping your fingers around the base and bobbing on his shaft just the way you know he likes it.

There’s something about sucking Miguel’s dick that you’ve always loved—the feeling of this powerful man shivering and moaning with pleasure at your touch. The way he brushes a hand along your face as you take him deeper, wiping away the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes as he nears the back of your throat. The taste of his cum as he spills his hot load into your waiting mouth.

But you know you won’t be getting that far right now, not when your cunt’s still waiting for him to bury his cock in it, a fresh wave of arousal leaking down your thighs.

As if on cue, Miguel pulls you to your feet, lips claiming yours hungrily as he backs you up to a wall. He makes quick work of your clothes as you tear off his shirt before he lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. And despite how many times you’ve fantasized about this feeling in his absence, when he notches the head of his cock at your entrance, nothing can compare to the feeling of him splitting your empty, needy cunt open once again.

You cry out his name, fingers leaving scratches down his back when you grip him tightly, rocking into him, moaning and whimpering with each thrust. Miguel kisses you hard as he fucks you against the wall, quickly finding a relentless pace to satisfy your desperate pleas for him to fuck you harder.

“I bet he doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” he breathes out heavily, sweat on his brow. “Doesn’t know how to make that pretty little face cockdrunk and begging for it.”

He snaps his hips upward so hard you almost see stars, your tits bouncing with each deep plunge.

“No,” you shake your head, whimpering. “Only you, Miguel.”

A possessive growl tears from his lips at that, and he takes your left hand, eyes narrowing as he grips the ring on your finger.

“Mine,” he breathes out, lips slotting against yours, tongue sliding into your mouth.

And when a picture frame hanging on the wall goes crashing to the floor, your back arching into Miguel, you whisper, “Yours,” just as he sinks his teeth right into that same spot at the junction between your shoulder and neck.

You cry out when he bites down, slamming his cock inside of your fucked out cunt to the hilt, and as a warm trickle of blood drips down your breast, your soaked, sloppy walls clench down on his cock with an orgasm that leaves you sobbing in pleasure. Your name is a broken sound on Miguel’s lips as he moans it, hips jerking into you one last time as he climaxes, spilling hot ropes of cum deep inside of you.

He peppers soft, soothing kisses along your face and licks at the shallow wound on your shoulder as he pulls out of you and gingerly sets you back down on the floor. You’re so dazed in the aftermath, so sated that you miss the tensing of his shoulders—a reaction to a sound you can’t quite hear. Not yet.

Not until a key scratches in the front door, shoes brushing against the mat in the entryway.

Miguel tucks you into the robe hanging beside your closet, determination sparkling in his eyes as he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you again.

“I’ll be back,” he murmurs against your mouth, hands trailing over the tender spot on your neck.

And before you can say another word, he’s gone, the sound of the now calm rain filtering in through your window left just slightly ajar. A trail of Miguel’s cum begins to slide down the inside of your thighs just as your bedroom door swings open.

—

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#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #oscar isaac fanfiction #spider-man 2099 x reader #across the spider-verse

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eternalsams · 11 months

Text

Like Cats and Dogs ➻ Miguel O'Hara

pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!reader

warning/content: black cat and golden retriever energy, Miguel is a party pooper

summary: you finally find the way to travel across the dimensions and you meet an interesting person.

words count: 1.5k

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into your consideration. Also, this is straightly inspired by a conversation I had with an AI of Miguel and I had to share this because it was so fun.

You slowly open your eyes, your pupils adapting to the new light around you. The night sky faces you and the high buildings reach the stars. You look down at your bracelet and close the portal you just came from. You immediately notice the other person in the room and jump back, arming your web shooters and aiming for the man in the room. "Who are you? Show yourself or I else shoot!" You threaten and the man steps closer, revealing himself calmly. He's tall, oh so tall. He's got broad shoulders and a strong jawline. His fists are clenched but what makes you relax is the big spider drawn on his body. The suit he's wearing looks like yours, only yours have a yellow spider on your back. "Do I know you?" He asks calmly but watches all your movements. You walk around him, inspecting his suit from every angle. "I don't know... Do I?" You say, staying at a certain distance from him, not knowing if he was dangerous or not. His jaw clenches and I can see he's getting impatient. "My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m Nueva York‘s one and only spider man. My life is pretty hectic and full of one bad thing after the other." He introduces himself, hoping you would cooperate and do the same. He takes a step closer and you get a good look at the dark veins in his eyes. "Do I know you?" He asks again.

You chuckle and stand back in front of him. "Did you practice this little speech of yours in front of your mirror this morning?" You cross your arms across your chest and raise an eyebrow. He frowns and take a step towards you, menacing. "My life is not a joke. I’m doing everything I can to protect this city from any threats. Why do you want to fight me?" You look down at his fists and can see his laser web wrapping his hands, threatening you. You slightly smile and look back up at his red eyes. "You think you're the only one with these bad boys, huh?" You shoot a short web to the wall next to you. His lips part and you can see him deep in his thoughts for a second before he looks back at you. "You... are like me?" You simply shrug. "Seems like it, big guy! But you... seem different, evolved..." You slightly frown and grab his hand, inspecting his talons and then grabbing his face to look closer at his fangs. "Are you a vampire or something?" You ask him before he rips your hand off his face. "I am not a vampire." He growls. "Oh... Are you a demon then?" You ask excitedly and shook his shoulders, which seems not to please him that much. He yanks your hands away a second time and steps back from you. "Not a demon either. Why are you here? What do you want?" You exhale loudly and pace slowly in front of him. "I've heard about you, Spidey... So I left my dimension to meet you. I still don't know if I'm glad I met you or not though..."

He stares at you, confused and search for his next words. "Other dimension? What are you rambling about. If you weren’t so annoying I’d knock you out." You roll your eyes out and chuckle. "Have you ever heard of the multiverse?" You cock your head to the side, enjoying how confused he looks. "The... multiverse..? You can travel through dimensions?" He raises his eyebrows. "Yup!" You clap your hands and shoot webs on the ceiling to make yourself a swing, sitting down on it. "You, my friend... are from Earth-928 and I am from Earth-634. You're the Spider-Man here and I'm the Spider-Woman of my dimension." You explain to him. "You're kidding..? I don't have the most... normal life but this? What brought you here?" He looks back up at you. "I told you! You did! I was doing some research about the multiverse and I had a weird vivid dream where I saw multiple Spider-Men, and so I knew I had to meet some of them, including you!" You point at him and he blinks. "So you came here, to my world, based on a dream? You’re crazy! I guess that's a good thing..." I grin at him and pat his cheek. "Aww, Spideyyy.... You're being soft on me!" He slaps my hand away and growls. "Hey! I'm not being soft!"

"You so are!" You chuckle and pinch his cheek like a grandma would do. He slaps your hand once again and keep it away from his face. "Don't you dare touch me again!" You hold up your hands in surrender with a sly smirk. "Okay, okay... So... You single, Guapo?" You wiggle your eyebrows. "Why? You wanna take me out on a date?" He huffs, as if the mere idea of dating you was ridiculous. "Maybe... We could have a bunch of inter-dimensional babies!" His little smile quickly drops and he blinks. "What? You're clearly insane..." He sighs. "Oh, come on, Mr Vampire... Don't you ever smile or crack up?" You can see he doesn't like the nickname but you don't really care. "I do smile. Just not with you." You step closer and have to tilt your head back to look in his eyes. "I wanna see that fangy smile!" You say excitedly. "I don't need to show you anything." He looks like he’s on the defensive, and looks a bit disturbed that you might notice he’s a mutant. "You’re from a different reality- how am I supposed to trust you?" He frowns and crosses his arms on his toned chest. "I'm literally a different version of you! We're the same! You're a vigilante, I'm a vigilante. You save people from bad guys, I save people from bad guys... What else do you need to trust me?!" You throw your arms up and exhale loudly. "You’re from an alternate reality. For all I know, you’re a supervillain pretending to be good. I need proof." He just stands there when you're pacing in front of him. "Alright... Tell me what you wanna know." You sigh and face him. "Why are you here? You said because you saw a vision of me. Why did you feel the need to find me?" He asks, tilting his chin up to look down at you. "Curiosity."

"You’re risking the health of your reality just to satisfy your curiosity?" He raises his eyebrows, almost speechless. "Yeah, my dad always told me I was too curious for my own good... But hey! What can I do about it?" You chuckle and shrug. "Maybe try not to put your home in danger if you get a passing whim! You're so weird..." He sighs and pinch the bridge of his nose. "So, tell me, Mr Vampire... What else do you need from me so you trust me?" You ask with a sly smirk. He growls and throws his head back. "I'm not a vampire, for the last time! Stop calling me that!" His fists have charged and begin to crackle with a blue electric energy, he seems ready to fight with you. You slightly laugh and hold your hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry... It's just so easy to mess with you, big guy!" He shakes his head and grits his teeth. "You’re so obnoxious. You know that? What do you wanna know about me?" You think about it and smile widely, pointing at his face. "Can I touch your fangs? I wanna check if they're sharp..." He frowns and looks weirdly at you. "No! What is wrong with you? Why are you so obsessed with my fangs?" He takes a step back from you, keeping his distance. "I'm not obsessed with your fangs." You immediately respond but you both know you're lying. Your gaze catches something else and your eyes widen. "Are those claws?!" You exclaim and almost jump on him, grabbing him arm and inspecting his hand. "What are you doing? You can't just touch me without my permission. I'm not some play thing, okay?" He says in a little voice, way less confident. You smile and softly touch the end, feeling how sharp the claws are. "You're fascinating..." You lead his hand towards him and watch the claws retract when his fingers touch his suit. "Hey! Stop that! No touching me without permission. That's a rule! And why am I so fascinating? I'm not some kind of experiment! And they're not claws, it's talons!" He exclaims, getting rid of your touch. "No... You're just so different from me..." You ignore his request not to be touched and grab his other hand, checking again his talons.

"Don't you get the message?!" He pulls his arm out of your grip. "Stop touching me!" His fists crackle with energy as his anger returns. You step back and hold up your hands. "Alright, alright... Calm down, Guapo. I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you or hurt your feelings." He seems to calm down and his shoulders relax. "It's just that I spent months working on travelling across the multiverse and when I finally do it, the first person I meet is a Spider-hero, just like me. It's all so exciting!" You grin and you can almost see a smile creeping his way onto his lips before he looks away, shaking his head. "You're so weird..." He sighs and you smile even more. "Oh, trust me I know."

#miguel o'hara #spider-man 2099 #across the spiderverse #marvel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara imagine #spider-man 2099 x reader #spider-man 2099 x you #spider-man 2099 fanfic #spider-man 2099 imagine #spider-man #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #spider-man across the spider-verse #mcu

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 11 months

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Difference of Opinions (Part 1)

Fandom: Spider-Man, Spider-Verse, Across the Spider-Verse, Miguel O'Hara, f!Reader Summary: You went against the man you loved and helped Miles escape. Now you must face Miguel's wrath. Word Count: 1821 TW: Angst, Betrayal, Anger, Glitching, Left for Dead, Miguel has a temper Notes: I told myself I wasn't going to get sucked into writing for this movie, but this idea wouldn't stop nagging at my brain so here you go!

Prequel, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Series Masterlist

*Spoilers for Across the Spider-Verse*

As you watched Miles disappear in a flash of the Go Home machine, you couldn’t help but smile. For a moment, you had been afraid that he wasn’t going to make it. That despite everything you, Hobie, and Margo had done to help him, Miguel was going to stop him before he could escape. But he got to go home to try and save his father. He had a chance.

However, the smile slowly faded from your face as Miguel roared and ripped the arm off of the Go Home machine. You had been so focused on getting Miles off of Earth-928 that you hadn’t considered what happened afterwards. This was going to be bad.

The room had filled with other Spider-people who had all been involved in the chase for Miles and they all just stared at Miguel. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Margo’s avatar disappear and you sighed in relief. At least she would escape Miguel’s fury.

Right now, his focus had turned towards Gwen. As they began yelling back and forth at one another and Miguel dragged her into the Go Home machine, you started to back out of the room as inconspicuously as possible. While part of you wanted to run to Gwen’s aid, she was being sent back to her own universe. It was heartbreaking to watch– especially knowing what was going to happen to her father when she returned –however, she was getting off easy considering her part in getting Miles involved in the Spider-Society in the first place. Things could have been a lot worse for her. As they would probably be for you if you didn’t let Miguel cool down for a while before confronting him.

You had just about made it to the door when you heard a snarl behind you. “And where do you think you’re going?”

Red webs coiled around your arms and legs pinning them to your body and making you fall to the floor. Before you could try to squirm your way out, Miguel yanked hard and you flew backwards into him. He caught your chin with one large hand, his nails sharpening into claws and digging painfully into your skin as he held you off the ground.

His red eyes flashed dangerously as he roared in your face, “Did you think I wouldn’t see you trying to slink away? You helped him escape! You! Of the hundreds of us in the Spider-Society, you were the last one I ever imagined turning against me.”

“I haven’t turned against you, Miguel. You know I love you too much to ever do that.” With your face still pinned in his grasp, you tried your best to keep your expression calm and non-confrontational. You knew how he got when he was like this and it was better to not get him even more agitated. However, your voice remained firm and unwavering. “But right now, you’re letting your past cloud your judgment and you’re not thinking clearly. I was just trying to–”

“He’s trying to alter a second canon event! We still haven’t dealt with what he did in Mumbattan and you just let him get away to do it again!” He bared his sharp teeth at you as he growled deep in his throat. In all your years together as friends or as lovers, you had never once feared Miguel would hurt you…. until this moment. All reason seemed to have left him and all you saw when you looked at his face was fury and pain. There was no trace of the man you loved before you.

Trying to keep the quiver out of your voice, you calmly said, “You said it yourself. Miles is an anomaly. He was never supposed to be one of us so who’s to say he has to uphold the canon events? From what I can tell, the Peter Parker of that world already lost his captain before he died. So maybe Miles has a chance none of us ever got. Maybe he doesn’t have to bear this loss like the rest of us. Maybe he can change his fate.”

“‘Maybe! Maybe! Maybe’! You risked the lives of an entire universe on maybe!” Miguel’s grip on your face tightened and you mewled slightly as his claws broke skin. “Whether or not he was supposed to be Spider-Man, he is now. And that means he must follow the canon. If he was different than the rest of us, he wouldn’t have already lost his uncle.”

“Or may– possibly becoming the Prowler is what got that Aaron Davis killed, not because he was Miles’s uncle.” You tried to reach up to stroke Miguel’s cheek, to calm some of his anger, but your hands were still pinned to your side by his webs. “Miguel, don’t do this. I’m begging you. Please, let Miles try. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Slowly, Miguel’s fury faded from his face until there was nothing left but pain. Pain that you knew you had caused. He lowered you to the floor and loosened his grip on your face though he didn’t release you. Then, as he stared deeply into your eyes, he spoke in an agonized whisper. “I did trust you. I would have gone to the ends of the multiverse and beyond for you. I gave you my heart even after I swore never to open myself up to anyone again but you turned your back on me the first chance you had.”

Tears sprung to your eyes and you squirmed against the webs, desperate to touch him. To hold him and make him feel that your love for him never wavered. “You know that’s not true. I’ve stood by your side from the very beginning. I’ve loved you and helped you build this Society so we could uphold the canon across hundreds of universes. But I just… I just couldn’t stand by this time and not at least give Miles a chance to try and save someone he loves. I’m sorry.”

For just a moment, you thought you saw a glimpse of compassion or love in his gaze but it was quickly replaced by bitter cold indifference. “I’m not.”

His claws slashed through his webbing, freeing your limbs. But before you could move, Miguel grabbed your arm, ripped your portal watch from your wrist, and hurled it against the wall where it shattered into pieces. Still holding your arm, he tossed you across the room. You crashed into the floor and slid another dozen feet or so on your side. And just as you slowed to a stop, you glitched as this unfamiliar universe attacked your cells.

You felt like your body was simultaneously being compressed and stretched in a hundred directions at once. When the glitch ended, you let out a small whimper but the sound didn’t cull Miguel’s rage any. Even as you lay in a heap on the ground, he tossed a disk in your direction and suddenly a red transparent field surrounded you.

Unable to believe he was really doing this to you, you called out to him but he ignored your plea. Instead, he turned his back on you and growled, “Jess, Ben, come with me. And somebody catch Spot.”

Jess glanced at his retreating form then back to where you were now confined. “Miguel. You can’t just leave her like this. Without a watch–”

“She made her bed, now she can die in it,” he snapped without turning around. He simply opened a portal and said, “Let’s go.”

Ben fell in behind him, but Jess hesitated, her hand reaching out towards you. But you shook your head. Miguel had judged you and once that happened, no one could change his mind. Jess had too much to lose by trying to help you and despite hating to see her leaving to track Miles down, you knew she was just as trapped now as you were. So, reluctantly, she turned and followed Miguel and Ben into the portal.

Now alone, you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face in them. You didn’t regret helping Miles, but you never imagined this would be the consequence. Miguel had a right to feel betrayed yet the fact he would go this far– that he was alright with you slowly glitching out of existence – broke your heart. Miguel had never been a saint but you never imagined he could do this. Not to you. How could his love sour so quickly that he was willing to let you die rather than try to understand why you did what you did?

No. I won’t accept that.

Miguel was just not thinking clearly after everything that had happened today. Deep down, he still loved you. He had to. Just as you still loved him despite him leaving you to die in this cage. If you could only show him that you were right and Miles was different, then maybe Miguel could forgive you for going against him. And maybe there was still hope for the two of you. Or maybe he would still want you dead.

Wow, Miguel was right and you did rely heavily on “maybe”.

However, there was just something about this situation that made you believe in those maybes. For years you had protected the multiverse by Miguel’s side and you had never questioned his decisions or a canon event. But something in your gut– in your spider-sense –was telling you this time was different. That Miles really could break from the canon without the same consequences as the others. But you would never know unless you found a way out of this cage!

Suddenly, you remembered how Miles managed to escape the same sort of prison an hour before. You might not have his Venom Blast powers but maybe Miguel presented you with your own way to escape. Spreading your arms and legs out as far as you could, you pressed yourself against the force field so you covered as much area as you possibly could. Then you waited.

About four minutes later, it happened. You glitched again but this time, you were ready for it. Using all the strength you could muster, you fought against the glitch and kept yourself pressed against the field. As your body began to flicker and change, so did the force field. When things finally corrected themselves and you were left moaning on the floor, you opened your eyes to see what was once your cage had been transformed into a pile of random junk from across the multiverse.

Giving it a slight push, the pile collapsed and you walked out of the remains of your prison. You were free. Now, you just had to find a way off of Earth-928 and back into the multiverse to find Miles before Miguel did. And you thought you had an idea about where to start….

Thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and/or rebloging! I am planning a prequel to this fic showing how Miguel and Reader met and I may also do a sequel fic to this one. If you are interested, please let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! Thanks!

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addicted-to-dc · 11 months

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Spider-Man 2099/Miguel O’Hara X Spider!Reader - Twice Bitten (Part 2)

Here’s part 2!! I am so exited to keep this series going. No idea when I’ll have time to do the next part, but I’m sure it’ll be soon. I’m too obsessed to leave this alone.

Link to Part 1 --- Link to Part 3

Contents: Angst, fluff, sexual tension, light body horror(?). It’s Miguel O’Hara, I think he warrants a warning himself. Friends (ish) to lovers.

Word Count: 1,700

You groggily wake up and push yourself out of the bed. Scratching your face, you immediately walk onto the wall and do your morning stretches. One pop here, a LOUD pop there, and you’re groaning against the wall as your tense muscles finally relax. Walking up the wall and onto the ceiling, you notice how your suit feels more snug than it should.

Hopping down, you land on the ground and head to the nearest reflective surface you can find. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the sight of you. The suit is ruined with tears you don’t even remember getting. Do you look… bigger?

Your muscles have grown, but how is that possible? You feel like you’re going through the bite all over again, your body once again changing overnight. The next thing you notice is your neck. The bite is still there but scarred over where his teeth punctured the deepest. You pinch the bridge of your nose. How the hell are you going to deal with this?

A fresh suit lays folded on a nearby table. As soon as you grab it it retreats back into a bracelet. You pick it up and examine it. Your eyes drift back down to the table again, spotting tight underclothes. Looking down, you slowly take off your suit and finally see the all of the damage.

Your veins are practically neon, barely noticeable to the naked eye. Leaning closer to the mirror, you examine the bite. The neon is at its strongest there, but it’s overwhelming with your eyes. You lean forward, examining them. The whites of your eyes are gone, replaced with the same neon hue. Your normal eye color is gone, a haunting red staring right back at you.

Shoving your worried thoughts aside, you quickly change and place the new bracelet on. With the flick of your wrist, the suit rematerializes. You let out a sigh of relief when you recognize the same suit design. Your attention shifts back to the bracelet, now blending perfectly with the suit. Your brain itches to explore this new piece of tech, but the door opens before your self-restraint went out the window.

“I see you’re awake, good,” Miguel says, entering the room. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my 15-year-old self again,” you sigh, finally finding the button that removes your mask. It instantly disappears, leaving your curiously confused face behind.

Miguel lets out a laugh, one that shakes his upper body. He stops a few paces away from you, almost hesitant to get close. You watch as his face falls slightly, finally seeing how much he’s changed you.

“My bite doesn’t do this,” he says quietly, his eyes drifting away from you.

You close the distance, placing a hand on his shoulder, “The bite may have changed me, but we still don’t know why. What does it usually do?”

“It’s venomous, usually paralysis follows.”

You try to bite your lip to think, but the fangs immediately poke you. Wincing, you sigh and massage your temples, “It could be a million things. The interdimensional travel, maybe substances from different dimensions have different reactions, or just my DNA just reacts this way. I’ve had my suspicions from… previous experiences.”

His eyes darken at your hesitant look, shame burning across your face as you think about the symbiote locked away. Your symbiote. You push the memories down, forcing yourself to look at Miguel.

Miguel knows, he made it his mission the whole night to learn everything about you. Your story isn’t a common one, an outlier to all of the Peter Parkers, Gwen Stacys, and even Jessica Drews. There were whispers of your dimension from the others, but they all stayed away. Some have no idea how you’re still alive, the Spider that went too far and somehow came back.

“We’ll figure this out,” Miguel sighs tiredly, now his turn to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’ll give you the tour, some food, and then we’ll deal with this at my lab.”

Your melancholy demeanor instantly shifts, a smirk growing on your face as your eyes light up. He nearly loses it when the tips of your fangs poke out from under your lips. “Gonna get me that dinner you promised?”

“I didn’t promise anything,” he mumbles, the smile on his face betraying his tone. “Come on, we have a lot of ground to cover.”

The door opens, flashing a bright light. You wince, lifting a hand up as you follow him out of the room. Your mask reappears, the covering on your eyes softening the overwhelming brightness. Once your eyes finally adjust, your eyes widen at the sight before you.

Hundreds, no, thousands of different Spideys walk along the numerous pathways that lead to who knows where. Miguel’s words knock you back into reality.

“Sensitivity to light, I hope you have sunglasses.”

You look at him, who also has his mask on. “Are you a vampire? A spider vampire?”

“Spiders have fangs,” he states matter-of-factly.

You know he’s defending himself. Did you strike a nerve? A searing pain erupts in the back of your head, your spider-sense going haywire as more and more Spiders walk near you. It’s like your senses have been dialed to one thousand. You feel him grab your shoulders, guiding you back up as the pain stops as quickly as it started.

Your brain goes a million miles per hour, trying to think of some explanation why this is happening. You were perfectly fine alone and with Miguel, why are your senses going haywire?

“You’re different than the rest, aren’t you?” you ask, the puzzle pieces finally fitting together. “You weren’t bitten by a radioactive spider, you…” Your words fade away, unwilling to finish the sentence.

You clutch your head again as more and more people pass by. Miguel quickly wraps his arm around your waist and swings away, the pain alleviating as you get further and further from the crowd.

“I’m fine, just let me-” Your words die as soon as you crush your web shooters, small sparks and web fluid flying everywhere as he swings up to a platform.

As soon as he lands you slump to the floor, staring at the broken web shooter. You used the same pressure you always have, it was designed to resist-

Miguel’s hand covers the broken tech, his other wiping the foreign tears off of your face. You didn’t even realize your mask is gone. You finally realize that it’s dark in here, probably for his comfort. Without a word, he gently removes both of your web shooters and sets them onto a nearby table. His hand returns with new ones. They seamlessly adhere to the suit.

“You’re awfully quiet for a Spider-Man,” you joke, your voice cracking when he pulls his hands away.

He remains silent for a few moments, as if he’s running with the bit, but he finally speaks. “Lyla, can you send some breakfast up here… Please.”

A hologram of a woman with a bright white coat and huge heart glasses appears in your face, scaring the shit out of you as you hit your head against the table behind you.

“Sorry,” Lyla apologizes to you. Her attention then diverts to Miguel, leaning close. “What’s gotten into you? So polite, is it because-”

“Lyla, please,” Miguel interrupts, his tired look silencing Lyla.

She looks between you two, her confused look morphing into a smirk. “I see where this is going. Don’t stop on my account.”

Your attention moves to the bracelet, fiddling with it as she drones on and on, congratulating Miguel for opening up again. You accidentally make your gloves disappear with a push of a random button. You move to fix it but Miguel’s growl paralyses you.

Miguel goes to slash at her, but she’s already gone. You stare at his talons, baffled at his control. You immediately snatch his hand, examining it. His talons retract, making you look back at him. You release his hand with a smile. “Sorry.”

“You got it right.”

“I got what right?” you question him, moving to sit across from him.

“I’m not like the others,” Miguel explains, his mask fading away. “I wasn’t bitten by a spider, more like… I had to splice my DNA with one.”

“So,” you begin, “you’re more spider than the rest of them?”

“I think you now have that title,” he whispers, his face disappearing as he covers it with his hands. “I’m supposed to fix anomalies, not create more.”

He mutters a few things under his breath, some Spanish that goes in one ear and out the other. You can tell he’s beating himself up. Whatever is haunting him, you know it’s the reason why he’s working himself to the bone to keep order. Your head tilts, confusion dominating your features once again. How do you know that?

Miguel’s face reappears, his brows furrowing. “Did you say something?”

“No, why?” you ask.

“How do you know what?”

You lean back in shock, “Did you just fucking read my mind?” It’s like the floodgates in your brain finally open, immediately standing up to pace around the platform. You forgo biting your lip and bite onto your finger, trying to figure out how exactly your minds can be connected like this. Is it because of the bite? Is he lying about being a spider vampire? Honestly that would be kind of hot-

Your pacing ceases as you accidentally bite too hard on your finger, puncturing deep with a hiss. You’re too busy examining the wound to look at Miguel. Your spider-sense goes off, urging you to turn around.

Miguel invades your personal space, his eyes completely glowing as he leans in close. As soon as his face is mere centimeters from yours the warning goes away. His warmth is intoxicating despite you feeling like a furnace right now. You feel him grasp your bleeding hand, guiding it up to his mouth as he licks the blood off of your wound.

Your entire body shivers, the urge to bite growing more and more tempting as his lips relocate to your ear.

“I’ve already bitten you once, I think it’s fair to return the favor.”

#miguel o'hara x spider!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x spider!reader #spider-man 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse fic #Twice Bitten

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that-sokovian-bastard · 8 months

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Pequeña - Miguel O'Hara x (f)Reader

Words: 6048 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x (f)Reader Warnings: SMUT. Minors DNI! 18+ only!!!! Swearing, unprotected sex (wrap it up babes), PIV sex, teasing, bratty-ish reader, slight edging, web restraints, fingering (f receiving), mean-ish Miguel, slight enemies-to-lovers (enemies to fucking, really). Porn with the slightest bit of plot. Summary: You and Miguel are undercover, tracking a criminal for questioning. Later that night, you both give into your desires. Author’s Note: I am obsessed with Miguel. I have no idea how his suit works, so just go with it (I know it’s a projection, I don’t know how it works at all??). The first half/undercover section of this fic is based on a chat I had on character.ai from this bot! Miguel speaks a little Spanish, there are translations in the fic.

Spiderverse / Full Masterlist

–

“You need to ease up,” Miguel said, not looking at you. “Otherwise, you’re going to get us caught.”

You looked up at him, pretending to be madly in love with your so-called husband for this mission. You had to admit; he looked damn good when he got dressed in something that wasn’t his Spider-Man suit, which you know he could turn on at any moment. But in his dark suit in this fancy club, it was hard not to admire him.

But he also couldn’t pretend you didn’t look good either, in your black dress with small straps, showing off your necklace and collarbone. You two fit right in at this club, sipping on drinks at the bar and looking for your mark.

To Miguel’s advice, you take a deep breath and smile up at him. His hand rested on your waist, also playing his role well. Finally, he looked down at you and spoke softly. “The more in love we appear, the less we’ll be watched,” He said, shooting you a sly message.

You catch the message instantly and continue looking at him, your smile turning slightly snarky. You slowly put your hand on his cheek, tilting his face down to meet your lips for a small kiss. “Like that?” You asked once you released him.

Miguel, the mighty Spider-Man, doesn’t get taken by surprise often. But that kiss certainly did. He knows you two are undercover as husband and wife, but he really wasn’t expecting you to take it so far to kiss him already–especially unprompted. He sucked in a breath after the kiss and chuckled at you, amused. “Exactly like that,” He smiled.

Your faces are still only a few inches apart from each other. “Now, my dear,” You smiled again, your hand still on Miguel’s cheek, “Do you see the criminal?”

Miguel’s eyes scan the room, trying his hardest not to be noticed by anyone. But he continues to play along. He leans down again, just a breath away from you, still smiling as he answers. “No, sweetheart, how about you?” He asked.

Your eyes danced around the room, looking for anyone suspicious. After a minute of looking, still standing close to Miguel, you looked back at him. “No, not yet,” You said, leaning in quickly to peck his lips again.

In response, Miguel sighed. He tried not to look annoyed, but you’ve known him for far too long not to know how he looks when you annoy him. “You need to be focused,” He grumbled, but not moving away from his position. “How am I supposed to work with you if you don’t take it seriously?”

You knew he meant it as an insult, so you playfully gasped in response before whispering to him. “I am taking this seriously,” You shot back, harsh but quiet. Then, your eyes catch someone staring at the two of you for longer than any normal person would. “Someone’s watching us now,” You started, quickly coming up with a plan. “I’m making sure it’s not the mark. Lean in and kiss my neck so I can get a better look,” You said, making Miguel raise his eyebrows in response.

He was a bit shocked at your demand but also impressed. “Clever,” He said under his breath, slowly leaning in and attaching his lips to your neck lightly. You turned your head to follow the mysterious man around the side of the club. It wasn’t anything that would leave a mark, but the contact made his heart stop, and Miguel never imagined that he would ever kiss you in this way, let alone on a mission. But he listened to you and peppered a few kisses just as you asked him.

“Stay there,” You added, fluttering your eyes to make it look like you were enjoying the kiss and fully distracted as you watched the man look back at you and Miguel. “Okay, darling,” You whispered again. “Come up my neck, to my cheek, and move my face to the left,” You directed him. “Go slow, he’s watching.”

Miguel doesn’t answer, but he listens and slowly moves his head up your neck, jaw, and cheek, kissing slowly. His one hand stabilized himself on the bar while the other was still on your waist. Once he made it to your cheek and planted another kiss, he moved his hand from the bar and turned your cheek. “There?” He asked, barely moving his lips off of you.

“Perfect,” You sighed. “Thank you, my love,” You said, your eyes scanning the room as you watched the mysterious guy leave. “I don’t think it’s our guy directly. I think he might be reporting to him,” You explained, and Miguel slowly removed his lips and fingers from your cheek, leaning back with a smirk. “We put on a pretty good show,” You smirked at him as Miguel’s other hand also landed on your waist. “He didn’t seem suspicious at all.”

“Good,” Miguel responded. “Glad you were paying attention,” He said, removing both his hands from your waist and turning back to his drink sitting on the bar. As you watched him, Miguel grabbed his rocks glass and tossed his head back as he finished the rest of his drink in one swig. “Since you did so well with that,” He said as he set his glass down, turning his head back to you. “What’s the next part of your plan?”

You looked at him with furrowed brows. Miguel said that like he was testing you, expecting you to pose the next part of your plan, and he would grade you. He may have a few superhero-ing years on you, but not enough to where he can treat you like he’s your leader. “What’s that look for?” He asked, looking you up and down. “Am I not pleasing you, my wife?”

You rolled your eyes at Miguel as he watched you. “You act like I need supervision and approval,” You started, finishing your drink before continuing. “I am just as skilled a hero as you are. But, since you asked so kindly, I do have the next part of the plan,” You said, smirking as you looked back at Miguel to see his eyebrows raise, egging you on to keep going. “We need to follow him, hopefully, he’ll lead us to his boss. So, you’re going to drag me out of here, laughing, like the drunk and in-love couple we are. Once we’re outside, push me up against the side of the building so I can get a better view of the guy,” You propose, seeing Miguel’s concern grow on his face. “Then we go from there.”

Miguel shook his head when you finished speaking. “Seems a bit overkill,” He said. “Why so much?”

“Can’t let anyone catch on that we’re undercover,” You said slyly. “If the guy catches us, our whole plan will blow,” You smirked again, this time taking your time to look him up and down. “What, did kissing my skin make you forget our whole goal of this case?”

Miguel struggled to find words for a moment, which you rarely ever see out of him. “I, uh, no,” He tried to convince you.

You cocked your head at him, finally catching him in a moment of weakness. “How am I supposed to work with you if you don’t take it seriously?” You asked, using his exact words against him, knowing you caught him off guard and distracted him. “I’ll forgive you this time, Miguel.”

He chuckled in astonishment at your boldness. “You,” He paused, “Are such a brat,” Miguel said. Your jaw dropped in surprise, but before you could respond, he smiled again and grabbed your hand, quickly dragging you out of the club like you directed in your plan.

You played along, pretending not to also have been caught by surprise, as you laughed while he pulled you through the crowd. As soon as you got out the front door, Miguel spotted the mysterious man and did exactly as you planned, turning the corner and throwing you against the brick wall. He still had his hand around one of your wrists, and he pinned it to the wall as his face stopped only an inch away from yours. “Do you see him?” He grumbled, looking into your eyes as he leaned forward.

Your eyes darted to the parking lot. “Yes,” You whispered. “He’s watching us again.”

Miguel smirked. “He must’ve enjoyed our show inside,” He said in a low tone. “Maybe we should give him another one.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he threw his head forward and attached his lips to yours hungrily. He kissed you hard for a few moments before backing off to let you breathe, but he didn’t move away, and he still had your arm pinned. This time, you were the one thrown off and distracted as you stared at Miguel with wide eyes. “Dear,” Miguel said, continuing like he didn’t just kiss you. “How do you think we get him to come over here?”

You tilted your head to get your mouth closer to his ear. “He doesn’t seem like the type that would fall for a threesome trick, so just follow my lead,” You said, which only worried Miguel in the process. You didn’t give him any time to ask what you were planning, and you quickly shoved your free hand on Miguel’s chest, pushing him back. “Hey! What are you thinking?” You shouted. “Just because I’m your wife, it doesn’t mean you can do that,” You scold Miguel, definitely taking him by surprise.

Miguel didn’t move very far because he still held your other wrist to the wall, but you looked angry, and it caught the attention of the criminal. “Mi amor,” Miguel said in a hushed tone, trying to get you to calm down. “You just look so beautiful, and all the things you say to me…” He trailed off, smiling slightly.

“I still told you not here!” You shouted again, trying to shake your wrist out of his grasp. “Let me go!”

Before Miguel could react or respond, you noticed the criminal walking closer to the two of you. “You heard the lady,” The criminal grumbled. “Let the sweet thing go.”

Instinctively, Miguel pulled his hand back from your wrist. Once it was free, you used your other hand to rub it where he held it. It didn’t hurt, but you wanted to make it look like it did. You were impressed that it worked so well in getting the criminal interested, but it was easy to tell he just wanted to be a hero and save the pretty girl.

“Good,” The criminal said, walking toward you and cutting Miguel off, forcing him to step back. “Are you okay, little one?” He asked, and you shifted your stance to respond to the man.

“I am, thank you,” You said. “My husband just had too much to drink and got too excited,” You explained.

The criminal laughed, looking back at Miguel once. “I can tell. He was all over you inside, too.”

You nodded, trying to figure out a way to steer the conversation to get him to admit what you want to hear. “Yeah, he gets like that. Thank you for your help. Not every day you’re saved by a big, strong man,” You smirked.

Miguel stayed quiet while you played the game, and the criminal was playing right into your compliments. “I’m sure I could show you a better time than whatever your lousy husband can do,” The criminal said. “A little girl like you needs a real man.”

You noticed Miguel roll his eyes at the criminal, but the criminal had no interest in him whatsoever. You giggled, fitting your role. “You’re right. Say, what do you do for work? I’m sure it’s much more interesting than the accountant my husband is.”

The criminal smirked at you. “It definitely is, little one,” He said. “But I can’t disclose that. It’s classified.”

“Pity,” You sighed and walked up to him, close enough to grab his hand. You stepped up on your tip toes to get close to his face, shooting a quick look at Miguel. “Is there any chance that you work for Kingpin?”

The criminal's smirk was wiped off his face as you asked him this question. He tried to pull his hand away from you, but you’re strong, and you had a tight grip. “Aw, big boy, where do you think you’re going?” You asked. “My husband and I just need to ask you some questions.”

Right as you said that, Miguel shot some webs at the criminal, and he fell to the ground. You wiped your hand off on your dress and shrugged once Miguel stood next to you. “Good work,” Miguel said. “Let’s get him to HQ,” He said, swiftly picking up the criminal, the two of you throwing your masks on and swinging out of the parking lot and back to headquarters.

—

You and Miguel walked out of the interrogation room after a grueling few hours. You ripped your mask off, and Miguel turned off the projection on his face, both exhausted. He asked one of the Peter Parkers to move Kingpin's goon to a holding cell so he could take a break.

“I really did not expect it to take so long for him to talk,” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Though, I’m impressed how well we played our roles as husband and wife.”

As you walked down an empty hallway, HQ being nearly empty from the late hour, you looked at Miguel when he didn’t respond. “Hello? Earth to O’Hara?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

“Do you ever shut up?” He growled, glaring at you when he turned his head. “We just got out of interrogating that guy for hours, and you’re still talking,” Miguel said. “I was right. You really are an annoying brat.”

“Excuse me?” You asked Miguel, eyebrows raised. “I am not a brat.”

Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. “Ay, dios…” He muttered. “Yes, you are,” He said, turning his whole body to stand in front of you, looking down. “The entire mission only proved to me that you are.” (Oh my god).

You crossed your arms, staring up at him, annoyed at what he was calling you. “I am not.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, his voice deep as he towered over you. Miguel looked both ways down the hallway before he put one hand on your shoulder, shoving you into the wall. His other hand grabbed your wrist, holding it tight. “If you’re not a brat, tell me you don’t like this,” He said as he brought his face closer to yours, his lips only a breath away from kissing yours.

You stayed silent, breathing heavily and trying not to react to him. “Tell me,” Miguel demanded again. “Tell me you don’t like this.”

“I can’t,” You whispered, pinned hard against the wall.

Miguel smirked. “I knew it,” He said, closing that last inch and kissing you immediately. His kiss only pushed you harder into the wall, and your bodies were touching. You tried to move your other hand that he wasn’t holding to touch his arm, but before you could barely lift it, he removed his hand from your shoulder and caught your other wrist, also pinning it to the wall. All you could do was let Miguel kiss you, and you kissed him back.

He pulled back for a moment to take a breath. “You can tell me to stop,” He said through heavy breaths.

You shook your head, also breathing heavily, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Good,” Miguel said, letting go of your wrists and wrapping his arms around your waist. He picked you up like you weighed nothing, which surprised you, but his height and strength made it easy for him. He rushed down the rest of the hallway until he stopped at the door to his room, quickly entering and setting you down.

Upon locking the door, he pushed you up against the wall again, wasting no time returning to kissing you. He grabbed both your wrists with one hand and held them together above your head, and his other hand held your chin angled up. The kiss deepened, pulling a few moans from both of you as you couldn’t get enough of each other.

After a few minutes, Miguel pulled his head back again to let you breathe. He let out a laugh, and you could see his slight smile from the dim lamp in the corner of the room. “What?” You asked.

“Nothing, mi amor,” Miguel said. “Or…what was it the criminal called you that you liked so much?” He asked aloud, then smirked when he remembered. “That’s right. Little one. Pequeña.”

“Mhm,” You hummed, tilting your head to try to get him to kiss you again, but you didn’t have much leverage as he held your wrists and your chin.

Miguel angled his head so you couldn’t get any closer. “No, pequeña. Have some patience,” He said. “You’re going to take this suit off the moment I release your wrists, understand?”

“Yes,” You whispered, and Miguel nodded. He let your wrists drop, and he stepped back, giving you some space as he watched you peel off your skin-tight suit. He had to admit; he really hated that you changed into your costume when you returned to Spider Society HQ; he loved how you looked in the dress. But he also loved watching you listen to his command and undress only a few feet in front of him.

When you stepped out of your bodysuit, you tossed it onto the floor, and Miguel’s gaze made you feel even more exposed than you were. You still had your sports bra and underwear on, but how he stared at you made you feel completely bare. You brought your arms up to cross them in front of your stomach, trying to hide whatever else you could.

“Don’t,” Miguel said in a deep tone as he continued staring. “Keep your hands at your side, pequeña. Let me look at you,” He said, his eyes not moving. You moved your hands back to your sides and looked down at the floor for a few minutes before Miguel spoke again. “Remove your bra.”

Slowly, you moved your hands from your sides and grabbed the hem of your sports bra, slipping it over your head. You shut your eyes when your breasts were on full display, fighting the urge to hide them with your hands. “Are you uncomfortable?” Miguel asked. “If you are, we can stop everything and forget this ever happened. You just have to speak up.”

“No,” You shook your head, opening your eyes again. “Just nervous.”

“There’s no need to be,” He replied. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, pequeña.” As he said this, he walked closer to you and put one of his hands around your waist. You looked up at him, and Miguel smirked down at you. “Truly beautiful. We should go on undercover missions more often. You cleaned up nicely.”

“So did you,” You responded, causing Miguel to smile in response. “I liked pretending to be your confident wife.”

“Hmm,” Miguel said, his face getting closer to yours. “Maybe too confident. I need to get my revenge on you for your little neck-kissing stunt. How did that go? Like this?” He asked, leaning in to kiss your neck like he did just a few hours prior. He focused on a few spots above your collarbone and shoulder, sucking and biting lightly to leave some marks. After spending some time on your neck, he copied what he did earlier and left a trail of kissing up your neck, jaw, and cheek, finally settling on your lips again.

Miguel’s free hand moved and landed on your breast as he kissed you. He gently massaged, going slow in case you needed to tell him to stop, but you never did. When he pulled back from your lips, his head dove down, planted a few kisses on your chest, then smiled at you. “Come on,” He said and grabbed your wrist tightly to pull you across the room to his bed.

He set you gently on the bed, putting his hand on your chest and pushing you back to lie down. Immediately, Miguel leaned over you, straddling your hips. “Keep your hands on the bed,” He directed you as he leaned in to kiss you again, his suit still on. His weight on top of you was a different sensation from anything you had felt before, and you desperately wanted to reach your hands up and touch his hair. As he kissed you, your mind started to spin, and one of your hands moved off the bed.

Before it even got a few inches off, he caught your wrist and pushed it back into the bed. “I’m serious, pequeña. Your hands stay on the bed,” He muttered when he pulled away from your lips. “Or I will secure them to the bed.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before attacking your lips again, but his hand did let go of your wrist, trusting you to listen. The hand that propped himself up on the bed stayed next to you while the other made its way down to your waist, playing with the edge of your panties. “Can’t wait to get these off, pequeña,” Miguel said against your lips.

“You’re still dressed,” You replied, a slight pout on your face.

He laughed against you. “I can turn that off in an instant,” He said. “But I want to see you imagining what’s under my suit,” You can feel the smirk radiating off him. “I’ll give you a hint.”

Miguel moved his bottom half closer to you, nearly grinding up against your panties so you could feel him. You gasped at the sudden touch, not expecting to feel him in this way while he still had his suit on. “So?” He prompted.

You nodded quickly. “I’m imagining,” You promised, and he chuckled at you before kissing you again, sneaking his hand under your panty line. As Miguel ground against you and his fingers got closer to where you wanted, your hand quickly went up to his hair and pulled.

Immediately, he removed his hand from under your panties, stopped kissing you, and sat up so he wasn’t touching you at all. “Tsk,” Miguel shook his head. “I gave you one task, pequeña, and you couldn’t do it. I warned you to keep your hands on the bed,” He said, sounding a mix of both disappointment and excitement. “Put your hands above your head.”

“What?” You asked, not sure what he was getting at.

“Put your hands above your head,” He directed, more serious this time. When you still didn’t move, he rolled his eyes and leaned forward again, grabbing your wrists one by one and throwing them above your head. When he sat back up, he held out one of his arms and aimed his wrist at your hands, shooting a few webs to secure your hands and wrists to the headboard.

Miguel was amused when he saw your look of surprise. “I warned you that if you couldn’t keep your hands on the bed, then I would make sure you would,” He shrugged. “And, now, if you don’t want your feet to end up the same way, you’ll keep your legs still. Do you understand, pequeña?”

“I-I understand, Miguel,” You stammered, a bit intimidated but matching his excitement. You pulled at the webs around your wrists, testing their strength, making him laugh again.

“You know that those aren’t going anywhere,” He said, leaning back over you. He kissed along the center of your breasts and down your stomach, stopping at your panties. “I think it’s time we finally take these off,” Miguel said, hooking his finger in and pulling them down, moving your legs as he needed to get them off of you easily. He smirked when he saw you glistening. “Oh, you really want this, huh?” He asked.

You nodded in response. “Y-yes,” You said.

Miguel shook his head with a cocky look on his face. He tilted his head up as he looked down at you, and before you knew it, his suit dematerialized, and he was overtop you, smirking. There were definitely benefits to his suit being a projection, and easy access was one of them.

But he was teasing you.

Only his chest and arms were exposed, making you gasp at his bare body, but also impatient to see the rest of him the same way. “What’s that look for?” Miguel asked, knowing the answer. “You’ve seen me shirtless before. Don’t be shy now,” He said, knowing you’re vulnerable. Though it may be true, that was a different circumstance. He was patching himself up after getting hit; he wasn’t over you, smirking at you while naked and tied up. This was entirely different.

He could tell you were distracted by looking at his chest. You were staring and maybe a little stuck in your own head with all your annoying thoughts. Miguel decided that if he wanted your attention, he was going to get it and keep it.

Pulling you out of your thoughts, you yelped when you felt Miguel’s fingers run through your folds. Your legs instantly reacted, squeezing your thighs together, but Miguel just pushed them apart with a satisfied grin on his face. “Got your attention now,” He said, slowly moving his fingers up and down, quickly getting covered in your slick. You kept making noises, whimpering, and he was a little concerned. “Pequeña, if you want me to stop, just say it.”

You shook your head quickly, grounding yourself and catching your breath. “No, don’t…don’t want you to stop,” You managed to force out the complete sentence.

Upon your confirmation, Miguel nodded. He kept moving his fingers while his other hand held your thigh down, making sure you couldn’t move that one. Every few strokes, his fingers brushed over your clit, making you gasp in surprise, but it was never enough stimulation to do anything else. He was barely moving fast enough to build you up; he was still only teasing you.

When he pulled his fingers away, you groaned loudly. “What?” Miguel asked, amused. “Does someone not like being treated like the little brat she is?”

“I’m…I’m not a brat,” You argued with him, but Miguel only laughed in response.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, cocking his head as his hand came back down onto you. Quickly, he started circling your clit, flicking it a few times, then rubbing fast. “You wouldn’t like this if you weren’t a brat,” He said, the speed of his fingers increasing once he heard you starting to moan and thrash in your web bindings. “And if you weren’t a brat, you’d stay still, like you promised. Do you want me to secure the rest of your body to the bed?” Miguel asked, keeping his fingers moving against you.

It was hard to respond with all the stimulation, but you forced your body to stop thrashing and pulling because you really didn’t want him to add any more webs to your body. You wanted him to do more, to touch your harder, to fuck you, but he was taking his time. And it was driving you crazy.

Miguel knew you’d have a hard time staying still, and he let some twitches and movement slide. He only really cared about the intense pulling and struggling. You moaned against Miguel’s fast fingers as he quickly built you up to the edge of an orgasm, careful to slow down before you went over the edge.

You were right there, about to orgasm from Miguel just touching you, but he pulled away. When all stimulation stopped, your legs contracted, and you ached, yelling loudly at how mean he was. Miguel just stared at you as you writhed in desperation, screaming out how much you needed to come. He shook his head at you as he watched, his hands resting on his hips. “Pequeña mocosa,” Miguel scoffed, staring down at you. (little brat).

When you finally calmed down, still on the edge of release, you were able to open your eyes and look at Miguel. However, when you saw him this time, his whole suit was gone, and he was finally in front of you, fully naked. Your eyes widened upon seeing him like this, but it certainly wasn’t an unwelcome view.

“Staring is rude,” Miguel commented, moving to sit on the bed on his knees between your legs. “Tell me what you want, pequeña.”

“You,” You gasped out, still recovering from your almost orgasm.

Miguel laughed, leaning over you now. “I know that. I need you to be more specific,” He instructs, his hands going back down to lightly touch your pussy.

You yelped again when his hand returned to touching you, moving devilishly slow up and down, just enough to keep your brain scrambled. You almost couldn’t believe he was going to make you spell it out for him, but it also made too much sense that he wanted to hear your exact words. “I want you to fuck me raw,” You said in a low, sultry tone.

Miguel wasn’t expecting you to say that or to be that confident. He was expecting you to skirt around the question until he was so impatient that he would do what you wanted. But, after getting over his initial shock at your bluntness, he smirked. “Dios, you are such a brat,” He shook his head and removed his hand again, adjusting himself so he was more lined up with you. You watched his hand go down to his cock, grabbing it and stroking a few times. “Are you sure that’s what you want, pequeña?” Miguel asked.

You nodded your head, your eyes not leaving the sight in front of you. “Yes. I’m certain,” You said, now just waiting in anticipation. Miguel’s smirk didn’t leave his face as he teased you, lining himself up right against your entrance. You pulled at the webs around your hands, wanting to touch him, to pull him against you, and it only made him more cocky in this position. “Miguel…” You whined, stretching out his name.

A soft laugh escaped Miguel’s lips. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop messing with you,” He said and slowly, finally, pushed his cock into you. At just the tip, you let out a groan like you never had before, this new feeling of Miguel surprising you. He took the groan as encouragement, sliding all the way in and starting to pump in and out at a steady pace. As much as he wanted to fuck you raw like you so boldly dared him, he was going to ease into it a bit. He wanted to take his time, getting you even more desperate for him, so for now, he went slow.

“Faster,” You gasped, trying to move your hips in time with his, but he held you so tight you could barely move them.

“Have patience, pequeña,” Miguel said, squeezing his hands as he kept his pace steady. “Remember, stay still. I would hate to have to web up your legs. It would be terrible if you couldn’t move even an inch,” His smirk got even bigger. “Or would my little brat like that?”

You shook your head, not wanting him to have any excuse to stop his movements. It only made Miguel laugh as he moved slower to drive all the way into you, his hips against you and pausing to admire your face. “You are truly beautiful,” He said, then leaned in as he was still paused inside you. He smiled as he leaned forward, slowly attaching his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss, causing you to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation.

“Tell me what you want,” Miguel said once he pulled back from your lips.

After taking a deep breath, you nodded at him once. “I want you to move,” You said, desperate for any more stimulation. “I want you to go faster.”

“Hm,” Miguel hummed, looking into your eyes to see how much you really wanted him. “I think I can do that for you,” He smiled and started to move in and out of you again. His pace started slow like before, but he was quickly building up to a faster speed, thrusting his hips and grunting loudly. Your grunts and moans matched his as he sped up, going fast but not hurting you, and your legs quickly started to shake from the force of Miguel’s body.

You were going to ask Miguel to adjust so he could hit the best spot, but as soon as you opened your mouth to ask, a loud moan was forced out of you as Miguel’s fingers went right back onto your clit. He smirked when you reacted to his fingers, and he moved them slowly around you, giving you just enough stimulation to bring you back to the edge.

Your legs tightened around Miguel’s body as he pumped into you faster, and his fingers played with you. Miguel didn’t mind that you moved your legs this time because he loved the feeling of your legs around his hips, holding him to you. It made him feel powerful, like you needed him.

Miguel felt even more powerful when you couldn’t say anything besides his name and moan loudly. Those were the best noises he’d ever heard, and if he could only hear that for the rest of his life, he’d be happy. He didn’t realize until tonight how much you needed him; it was as much as he needed you.

He smirked down at you as he felt your legs start to shake around his hips, knowing you were close to your orgasm as he moved in and out of you and kept his finger playing with your clit. “Come on, pequeña, you can do it,” He encouraged you, as he also was building up to the edge of release.

You started to moan louder as you were pushed over the edge of your climax, Miguel’s hand moving quickly on your clit to help you through it. Once you screamed out, tightening around Miguel as he kept moving in and out of you. “Fuck, pequeña,” Miguel grunted, his voice low, still thrusting into you as fast as he could. He watched your eyes roll back into your head and arch your back off the bed as you screamed his name out. As soon as he heard you say his name in that rough voice, Miguel pushed over the edge with you, twitching inside you and releasing.

Miguel matched your moans, grunting your name through his orgasm. When he finally came down, he pulled out of you and collapsed on your chest. Your brain was a bit mushy, and your eyes kept fluttering shut.

You weren’t sure how you got there, but when your brain finally returned to reality, you were sitting in a bath, being cleaned off by Miguel. He was quiet, gently running a washcloth over your shoulders as he sat behind you. “Miguel?” You spoke, your voice hoarse.

“Ah, there she is,” Miguel hummed from behind you. “You feeling okay, pequeña?” He asked.

Nodding slowly, you looked a little confused. “What did I miss?”

Miguel chuckled a little. “You were a bit out of it, but it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Miguel said. “You know, you’re not such a brat when you’re like this,” He joked.

“Ha-ha,” You threw a glare at him. “I think we should be undercover partners more often.”

You watched as he shook his head, his lip curling up into a tiny smile. “Maybe,” He said. “You should go back to being quiet; you’re much more tolerable like that,” Miguel smirked, leaning in so his mouth was right next to your ear. “Who knows, maybe I’ll even fuck you until you’re raw next time,” He said.

“Hmm,” You matched his smirk. “It’s a tempting offer. I’ll think about it.”

---

tags

@i-am-not-the-real-alice @designer--sunglasses @cirrec @glossierkisscs @ineffablebean @rloyal @criminalmindsmoodrn @iamninaanna @super-multifandom @ifilwtmfc @sitherin-mxschief

#Miguel O'Hara #Miguel O'Hara x reader #Miguel O'Hara fanfiction #Spider-Man 2099 #Spider-Man 2099 x reader #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #marvel #marvel comics #mcu #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #imagnes #marvel imagines

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companionjones · 10 months

Text

His Home

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse

Summary: Miguel has some morning sex with you before he must go back home.

Warnings: SMUT, Miguel is cheating, but not on you, Cursing

*******

Miguel doesn’t spend so much time at home anymore. He’s lying to himself calling it that at this point. No, his home now is whatever room you are in.

He blinks his eyes open to see your back bathed in the morning light. He reaches a hand out to touch you, to shuffle himself closer under the blankets.

You wake with a small sound. “You should leave, Miguel,” you remind him.

Of course, you’re right.

He’s spent the whole weekend with you. It’s Monday morning now, and he should really be getting back to his other life--his ‘real’ life.

“Inaminite,” he says as he pulls you close and buries his face in your neck.

You giggle at the contact, and tangle fingers in his hair to keep him there. You even expose your neck more to him, and press your backside against his groin, resulting in Miguel growing hard. You give a little moan.

Miguel separates his face from you to take a moment to look at you.

You turn towards him to give him full view of you.

Miguel feels his eyelids grow heavy as he leans down to kiss you. He turns you so you are laying on your back with him on top of you. He takes a break from your lips to travel down your neck, your chest, then your stomach, finally reaching his destination at your cunt.

You whisper his name.

He loves when you say his name like that, with just a bit of an accent. He moans against you.

You gasp.

Miguel latches onto you like you’re his only source of oxygen while he’s deep under the ocean and you whimper. He caresses your leg as his tongue plunges inside of you and you shout out a moan. Miguel continues to jackhammer his tongue in and out of you and you whine at each movement. Eventually, he adds his other hand in on the action, and you scream.

You’re cumming against him before you even say anything, and Miguel doubts that you’re fully mentally present when he crawls up to meet you again. “You ready for me, cariño?”

Vaguely, you nodded.

Miguel kisses you once, twice.

Heatedly, you whisper, “-iguel,” as he parts from you. You give a long moan as he fills you completely.

Miguel makes love to you like yo’re the most precious thing in the world. Your breath mixes with his as he pulls himself in and out of you.

That’s how it starts out, anyway. What it turns into is skin slapping against skin and you holding onto Miguel for dear life as his animalistic grunts fill the room.

He’s filling you and you’re cumming around him as you cry out and Miguel growls.

Your chests are heaving against each other as Miguel pulls out. He leaves you for only a few moments as he fetches a damp cloth from the bathroom. Miguel gently cleans the two of you. When he’s finished, he’s kneeling on the floor on the side of the bed, just staring at the beauty of you.

He thinks to himself, for a moment, about how he wishes his life could be. He wishes he could come home to you everyday. He wishes he didn’t have to divide his time between you and another woman.

There is only one thing keeping Miguel from making his wishes a reality. That was the child he had with this other woman. That little girl is the only thing that rivals his love for you.

He would never change a thing about that little girl, but sometimes he wishes she came out of you instead of some other woman.

“Miguel.” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“Mi amor?”

You combed some hair out of his face with your fingers. “You have to go.”

“I know, mi corazón,” he conceded, “Te amo.” Miguel kisses the side of your head and stands.

He is dressed and out the door within five minutes. Now, he must go back home.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more fics over on my page. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader smut #spider-man 2099 #spider-man 2099 x reader #spider-man 2099 smut #spider-man 2099 x reader smut #spider-man #spider-man: across the spider-verse #oscar isaac #companion jones #his home #tw cheating #cheating

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 11 months

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Difference of Opinions (Part 1)

Prequel, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Series Masterlist

*Spoilers for Across the Spider-Verse*

You had just about made it to the door when you heard a snarl behind you. “And where do you think you’re going?”

For just a moment, you thought you saw a glimpse of compassion or love in his gaze but it was quickly replaced by bitter cold indifference. “I’m not.”

Jess glanced at his retreating form then back to where you were now confined. “Miguel. You can’t just leave her like this. Without a watch–”

“She made her bed, now she can die in it,” he snapped without turning around. He simply opened a portal and said, “Let’s go.”

No. I won’t accept that.

Wow, Miguel was right and you did rely heavily on “maybe”.

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jedijesi · 7 months

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Caught in the Cat’s Web

Felicia Hardy! Reader x Miguel O’Hara

Warnings: Fluff, SMUT, violence, angst, she/ her pronouns, AFAB

A/N: This is a reader insert. Besides Felicia’s classic Platinum hair, there are no descriptions!🫶🏽

Co-Author: @stclairesplace

Read on wattpad

New Chapters Every Week!

#miguel o’hara x felicia hardy reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy #miguel o’hara x oc #spider-man x reader #spider-man 2099 x reader #spider-man 2099 #miguel o’hara #oscar isaac #Caught in the Cats Web #CCW #CCW masterlist #masterlist

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thatsokayy · 11 months

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Caught in His Web | Miguel O’Hara x afab reader

Nightly fun with your longtime boyfriend/husband Miguel O'Hara, who leaves you at his will with the use of his webs to restrain your hands and legs.

Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Bondage, inappropriate use of webs, Creampie, Oral Sex, Light Bondage, Vaginal Fingering, Established Relationship, Pet Names, y/n isnt used

1,515 words

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47734216

full fic under cut

You had whined about how tight the webs were around your wrists already, but you knew better than to complain again. Undoubtedly, you would have harsh red lines curled around your wrists and thighs tomorrow.

Miguel’s hand continued to tease your cunt, his thick fingers tracing over your clit in tight swirls, just barely pushing his first knuckles into your entrance. The onslaught had gone on for quite some time, but he never allowed your sweet release. Not until he permitted you.

You attempted to keel back against his palm, encouraging him to let you grind against him, but the web around your thighs held your legs apart, letting him get a crude look at how wet he made you with his touch. The most you could do was squirm and groan, a pathetic effort. You weren’t even allowed the small relief of being able to grip the sheets; your arms were twisted behind your back, kept sturdy with makeshift cuffs of web.

When you tried to guide him once more, his hand quickly moved to your ass to spank it— hard. “Why can’t you relax, hm?” Miguel asked. “After I took the time to treat you so nice.”

You already regretted moving. His hand remained cupped on your ass, slowly rubbing the stinging area from where he slapped you. “Sorry, I’m sorry. You… you just like teasing me too much.”

When you shifted to look behind you, you could see the corner of his mouth upturned in a smirk. “Isn’t that the point?”

His carefree reply made your gut twitch and you obediently remained still so he could continue toying with you. Suddenly, you felt the slick of his tongue traverse from your clit to your clenching pussy as he gripped your ass, holding you in place.

A low groan was forced out of your throat as he greedily lapped up your wetness. He suctioned his lips on your clit and you were thankful that he and his webs were holding your lower half up. You could feel your limbs turning to jelly and pussy throb, yearning to clench around him as he licked circles around your folds. You so desperately wished you could grab his hair and grind against his mouth as he ate you out earnestly.

He finally, finally, gave you what you needed. Albeit slowly, he inserted his middle and ring finger into you with little resistance, your slick coating his fingers. While he continued to lick and circle your clit, his fingertips were pressing down in your cunt, prodding your swollen sweet spot.

Your voice was strained, repeating delirious nothings as he finally was allowing you to give in. It didn’t take long; after a particularly harsh suck and skilled stroke from his fingers, you came undone. Your pussy fluttered and squeezed around his fingers, but he continued to work at you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, stop! I can’t, it’s too much, Miguel, please,” you whined when you, at last, got your voice back, eyes screwed shut as you couldn’t curl away from his deliberate onslaught of your sensitive nub.

He listened, for once, and you turned to watch him lubricate himself with your cum, fingers working around his girth. When he noticed you looking, he moved to position himself behind you.

“You’re lucky, cariño. I wouldn’t have stopped, but I was running out of self-restraint.” Miguel guided his cock to slip against your folds, fingers digging into your ass cheek.

“You’re cruel,” you teased. When he nudged against your clit, you let out a heavy sigh.

His response to your remark was his hand moving to your thigh, nails digging into the supple flesh. Sucking in a breath through your teeth, you made a silent promise to keep your mouth shut from then on.

You felt his tip press against your entrance, accompanied by a deep sigh from him before he was slowly pushing himself in. Even after countless times, you’d never get used to the sheer size of his cock, the girth straining your walls. You were almost thankful that he took so long to get you prepped. Almost.

He slowly moved his hips back before thrusting forward, working his way deep into your squeezing cunt until he was flush against your ass.

“You’re made for me…” He mutters, beginning to build up to a set pace. “You’re so tight around me.”

His ramblings did a number on you and your pussy twitched the best it could around his girth. It’s evident that he can feel it because there is a stutter in his pace, followed by a curse under his breath. As he fucked into you, you felt his hands move positions around your body. From grabbing your hips to help pull you back to meet his thrusts, to his hands cupping your ass and digging his nails into your skin, making sure he gave each part equal attention.

Miguel had had his way with your body plenty of times. That did not mean he’d stop appreciating each curve, the way your flesh conformed underneath his fingertips. The way your cunt sucked him in every time, ever tight and, fuck, he wasn’t just dirty talking when he said you were made just for his cock.

You desperately wished you could rock your hips against his, assist with his pace, but the fact that you were stuck in place, positioned only so he could fuck your creamy cunt how he pleased, only made your ecstasy that much more intense.

Suddenly, Miguel’s hand was held over your mouth and he shifted his body over you, forcing your chest to be flush with the bed more than it already was. You groaned against his hand, eyes shutting tight as he fucked you at just the perfect angle, his cock hitting your swollen clump of nerves just right. It hurt, more than you’d ever admit, but it felt too good having him hold you down. You wondered pervertedly if you’d be able to see a faint outline of his dick straining against your gut.

With his height difference, he was able to lean forward and nuzzle his face into the back of your neck. “Mi princesa, you look so good under me,” Miguel groaned, his breath tickling your skin. As he kissed and bit the sensitive skin of your neck, you could feel him being extra careful with his canines, never fully sinking in, just barely stopping from breaking the skin. “I want you to cum for me. Can you do that?”

Unable to give a verbal reply, you merely keened against his palm, eyes squeezed shut. The limited airway was making your head spin, but he removed his palm to replace it with his fingers prodding into your mouth, missing how your voice sounded pleading his name. You licked and sucked each digit fervently, sighing and moaning around them.

The steady sound of his flesh smacking against your ass persisted, along with the quiet squelch of your pussy taking him in and your combined mutterings and groans.

“Dear, I… Fuck, you’ve got me so close,” Miguel said, shifting his position so his hands were on either side of your head.

In between groans, you managed to speak coherent words. “Please, cum in me, just cum in me!”

His pace began to lose rhythm, instead becoming desperate thrusts to reach his climax. He so badly wanted to fill you with his cum, fuck it deep inside of you till it kissed your womb.

Your pussy clenched around him as you came, all the air knocked out of your lungs. Sparks flashed behind your eyelids as you orgasmed, your muscles locking and straining as waves of pleasure rippled through your cunt.

Miguel muttered incoherent nothings before his hips stuttered as he spilled inside of you, slowly thrusting against your throbbing hole, which felt like it was milking him of all he had as it coated your inner walls. You felt drops of sweat land square on your back, making you realize how equally sweaty and overheated you were, your breath continuing to come out in pants.

The cum lay heavy deep in your gut and as he slipped out of you. You felt an emptiness at the lack of his girth in your hole. More than anything though, you wished you could finally lay down and rest your sore legs. As if answering your prayer, Miguel helped remove the webbing from your thighs and wrists, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against his body as the little spoon.

His hands went to cup your tits from behind while his chin rested atop your head, planting a kiss on the crown of your head. “Don’t think it’s over for the night.”

You sighed, exhausted. “At least let me get a breather.” You rubbed your wrists, inspecting the deep red marks. That could be dealt with tomorrow. You were in the dark on what Miguel had in mind for the next session bondage-wise.

“Of course, my love. I’d be a monster if I didn’t at least allow you that,” he replied.

#fanfic #fanfiction #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #spider-man 2099 #spider-man 2099 x reader #x reader #smut #lemon

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08luvmailz · 10 months

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%¡ SECOND LIFE — ! ❪miguel o'hara❫

synopsis: In which miguel dreamed of you, after encountering you. a version of you.

warning: angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, across the spiderverse spoilers, death.

while reading listen to hai cheng by the8

" You know, love. The sky is so beautiful here. " As you told him. While walking hand-in-hand on the beach, the moonlight transcends the splash of waves at the shore. He can still remember the scent of the beach as his wife twirled in her sundress, his jacket draped on her figure, swallowed her whole to keep the warmth.

However, he didn't look at the night sky as his eyes kept looking at you. He saw the light in your eyes illuminating like the moon and the stars. " Yeah, beautiful. " his words became a whisper as his breath puffed a cloud of smoke in the chilly air, he didn't take his eyes off you.

You felt his gaze, his beautiful eyes looking at you with such adoration, love, and passion as you're eyes met. A spark of joy blossoms on your face, giggling at him " Done staring at me? " you smirked at him, coming closer to him as the feeling of the sand contacting with your feet and the smell of his cologne with the cold breeze.

Holding his hand with your's— the rough but delicate touch of his fingertips with your smaller hands, the dance of the butterflies fluttering about in the pits of your stomach, his lips tip in a smirk and bowing down to your height to your face. " Hm, something wrong with that. I was staring at my beautiful wife. " As he spoke those words, a hearty laugh came from your mouth.

Laughter echoes in his mind, making him laugh with you.

" Really? " You teased him coming closer to his lips as you felt the minty breath of his— almost touching, " Yeah, I was the yo— I mean the sky, so beautiful shining with the stars but the brightest of all. " His words came shaky as his hands gripped your waist causing you to be closer to him like vines attached to the wall with a never-ending grip.

" Seems like you want to marry the sky rather than me. " Your eyebrows scrunched patting his chest, and smirked at him while a giggle escaped your lips. " Well, I already did. " As his voice came like a whisper and a shocked look from your face. " Oh shit, you're cheating on me!? " A fake gasp came to your mouth as you half-heartedly slapped his face.

He isn't in pain by that slap you gave him, but pretending like he were, in simple moments like these. He cherished every one of them, whether you burnt the cake you were preparing just for him or even acted childish to get a stuffed toy at the carnival. He loved everything so, he always played along. He knows you have your ups and downs in life, and he wants— No, he will always find a way to cure or bring back that little person you're protecting inside your toughed heart. As he knows you'll protect his too.

He hugged you tight like he were afraid of letting you like you were gone in his vision.

He felt your laughter echo in his mind as you took a step away from him and ran, the sky collapsing in his eyes as the waves of the beach became distorted like a tv collapsing. He ran to save you, his legs shaking as his body heavy from something— he felt chills, then everything was black.

He felt himself falling from an abyss to—

Waking up as his body shook like he was falling from a building, Sweat building and covering his whole body as his hands wandered to the empty side of his bed, your shared bed.

He felt something coming down from his face, something liquid it felt hot from his skin it was tears. He was crying from that dream, it felt so real to him. Losing you again was more painful than any cuts, bruises, broken bones he had.

He looked down at his sweaty palms in disbelief, he looked at the ceiling.

What time is it?

He's lost track of time already,

The flow of his days filled with overworking himself to save the multiverse, even having the never-ending grief of losing three people. He scratched his eyes as his vision darkened from crying to that dream, he turned his head over at the table across him as his pupils dilated staring at his dead wife's picture.

How long is it when you die?

Oh, right. It's been one thousand, five hundred and fifteen days since you died.

He took count as he wanted to visit your grave once a week at least, maybe even more if he needed your presence. You wouldn't be there as your body lay beneath the ground, now tainted with the soft pillow grass. He trimmed the grass twice a week, so he still sees the cobblestone that your name is engraved.

The name he always adored, It is a shame that whenever he's away, people recklessly tramp on the filthy dirt where his wife resides.

He felt his eyes grow heavy once again, his dry lips quivering. He want to sleep again but it was so hard that you're always in his dreams. Without you by his side once again, you were gone, never to be seen again. The tears fell all at once, flooding his vision as he cried out for you. His heart felt heavy as he gripped his t-shirt, it felt so long again dreaming of you after encountering you— a version of you In another universe.

He promised himself, someday in his second life. He will protect you at all cost

#miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #spider-man #spiderman #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse spoilers #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider-man 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider-man 2099 x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader

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bensolosbluesaber · 10 months

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Nowhere to Run: Part 2 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Read Part 1 Here

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Miguel helps reader through a panic attack (descriptions based on my own experiences but not necessarily perfectly written down), mentions of isolation and isolation-related trauma, references to child loss, scars

Summary: Living in Nueva York and working with the Spider Society is pretty great... except for Miguel O’Hara, the man who injured you, saved your life, and now refuses to speak to you. Luckily, Peter B. Parker loves interfering in Miguel’s life, so when you’re at your lowest, it’s Miguel who is there to help you through it. ~ 2,200 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending

A/N: This is still dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok as well as the people leaving the comments. There are light spoilers for AtSV (I made up an ending for BtSV since this is set after that).

Two Months Later…

Miguel O’Hara kept his promise. His Spider Society ran all kinds of tests, searching for an explanation for the rapid evolution that provided your the ability to travel the multiverse. Best they could guess, you had been close to the epicenter of your world’s implosion, close enough to absorb some of the energy leaking from what was essentially a black hole devouring the universe.

Another Spider-Woman had given you a more advanced goober - no, gizmo - to keep you from glitching and destabilizing the place they called Nueva York. It was Miguel’s home, she’d explained, and the home base of the Spider Society that kept watch over the multiverse. You’d started volunteering for missions with them, happy to be doing some good. It made you feel like a hero again, like there was a point to all the sacrifices that led you here.

But you hadn't seen Spider-Man 2099 since he dropped you off at a Nueva York hospital and huffed an order to “make sure she gets stitched up, and for god’s sake, get her some food.” That was two months ago.

“I can’t believe you bring a kid here.” You waved to Mayday who was sitting on her dad’s lap and trying to steal his food with her webs. For some reason, Peter had given her a web-shooter… as if toddlers weren’t difficult enough.

“Neither can I, honestly. But she loves these guys. Especially Miguel.” He frowned and took a bite of empanada. “She’s borderline obsessed with Miguel actually. I think it’s because he has such climbable shoulders. It’s good for him to see her too.”

“Meaning?”

“Ah nothing.” Peter waved off your question.

An awkward pause filled the space between you and Peter B. Parker. Just ask him, you told yourself.

“Is Miguel avoiding me?” Blunt. Right to the point.

“Ummmmm…” He drug out the word for far too long, looked to his daughter for help, seemed to remember she couldn’t do more than babble random sounds, and then sighed heavily. “Yes. He feels bad about…” Peter gestured broadly to you. “About a year ago we had a little situation with this kid - I mentored him. Good kid. Smart,” Peter added proudly. “This kid, Miles, made Miguel rethink a lot of things. We started handling anomalies... differently, a bit more gently.”

“He calls this gently?” You touched your scarred shoulder.

“Ummmmm… no.” Peter scooped Mayday out of the air where she was now dangling from the ceiling. “You freaked him out pretty bad. I mean you are a huge anomaly. Dangerous. He sort of, uh, how would those kids say it? Oh, yeah, he ‘went off the deep end.’ You should hear him tell the story.”

Mayday babbled incoherently.

“Yes ma’am, it does all seem a bit romantic when he tells it doesn’t it?” Peter cooed to Mayday then grinned at you.

You blinked once. Twice. Romantic?

Mayday went zipping away. Peter stood and sighed.

“Gotta get this kid, but I’m sending him to see you.” He took off after his daughter who was expertly navigating a minefield of other Spider-People (and animals). “Promise!” Peter tossed over his shoulder.

You seriously doubted Peter B. Parker would be able to convince Miguel to talk to you. And that was just as well because by the time you made it back to your room, it was turning into one of your bad nights. It was illogical. How could you could be fine for and suddenly a panic-stricken nightmare-ridden mess one random night? But then, the human mind is an enigma even to itself, the traumatized mind even more so.

It happened when you walked into your room and found yourself suspended in complete darkness. You followed the same routine every night, but today was different. Blackness surrounded you and closed in. You could see nothing, not even the hand in front of your face, and something tightened in your chest, clamped down on your lungs. For a second, you had control of the thing, were reaching for the light switch. Then you were spiraling.

Your mind was no longer in your safe room in Nueva York surrounded by the Spider Society who had taken you in and protected you and even become your friends. No. It was trapped in the silent and endless darkness of a collapsed universe, utterly alone, smothered in deafening silence. Your breath came in rapid, shallow pants, and you stumbled back until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You sat down on the soft mattress, drew up your knees, wrapped your arms around yourself, bowed your head, and tried to breath through it.

Caught in your panic attack, you didn’t even hear two familiar voices arguing, or see the light from the hallway fall across the room as the door was pushed open, or notice the shadows that loomed in the doorway.

“I know what you’re doing, Peter,” Miguel snarled.

“I’m not doing- why’s the door open?”

Miguel noticed you first. The dim room was the perfect environment for his sensitive eyes to make out your hunched form and trembling shoulders. In an instant, he was kneeling in front of you, an act that confirmed every one of Peter B. Parker’s suspicions. He watched for a moment from the doorway before taking a step back and closing the door with a click. Miguel had this under control. He was sure of it.

A deep voice, gravelly as if it were being drug over stones whispered your name. It wrapped around you, held you tight, and pulled you above the thrashing waves. That crushing feeling in your chest relaxed ever so slightly, and finally, you managed a deep breath. Then a second. It’s okay now. The worst is over.

After the third breath, you looked up and searched the dark room in a search of the voice’s owner.

Two dimly glowing red orbs shone in the darkness. You knew exactly one person with red eyes. Slowly, your own eyes adjusted, and the broad outline of Miguel O’Hara materialized. He wasn’t wearing his usual vibrant suit, just a dark colored sweater. Even kneeling on the ground he was still tall enough to be eye level with you. The two of you stared at each other for a long second before Miguel slowly raised a hand and... and brushed his thumb across your cheek?

What was happening? All you could do was blink stupidly at him, but when you didn't shy away he brought his other hand to your face. He smoothed his thumbs over your cheeks. He was wiping away your tears so gently and with such concern it seemed impossible. His hands were soft, softer than they had any right to be, and those dangerous claws that had done so much damage to you earlier were nowhere to be seen.

“You’re safe. You’re here with me.” Miguel’s voice was so commanding; he was obviously accustomed to giving order, but that actually made it more reassuring. “I’m here.”

I’m here. For some unexplainable reason those words reassured you more than anything. You didn't even think, just did. You slid forward on the bed and buried your face in the broad muscles of Miguel’s shoulder. His sweater was as soft as anything you could have imagined, and his warmth seeped through the fabric. He smelled like fresh laundry and something more woody and musky.

Miguel haltingly wrapped his arms around you, awkward at first, before he pulled you in closer. He held you like that for several long minutes, running his hands across your back and drawing small circles with fingers until your breathing synced with his.

Since coming to this place, the most physical contact you had with anyone was the occasional hug or handshake or Mayday crawling up your arm. Before that it was Miguel holding you in the rain while he sucked his venom - you had confirmed that it was venom - from your body. Before that you had been trapped in a collapsed universe or on the run. Before that... well, being Spider-Woman was a lonely job.

To be held like this was the most comforting experience you had in longer than you cared to remember. You didn’t want to let go. Even when you realized that in this position Miguel was kneeling between your legs you didn’t let go.

Eventually, he shifted with a quiet huff. You pulled back immediately. What were you doing? Miguel definitely didn’t want you all over him. What could you have possibly been thinking, using the man who actively avoided you for comfort?

Miguel stood and stretched. You looked away, suddenly self-conscious.

“Thank you. I’m okay now,” you muttered.

That was an obvious lie. The man tilted his head as he gazed down at you. He knew what this loneliness was like, how it felt to have wallowed in solitude for so long that you forget how to feel anything but alone. His eyes shifted to your shoulder where a tank top did nothing to hide the four long scars he had left in your skin. You tracked his gaze and immediately tried to cover them with your hand.

“I’m okay,” you repeated, hinting that he could go even though part of you - an insane, irrational, needy part of you - wanted him to stay.

Miguel ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair with a sigh before sitting down, uninvited, on your bed. Next to you. He sat down next to you. On your bed.

Miguel O’Hara was handsome. You never denied that, especially now while he was inches from you smelling the way he smelled and radiating much needed warmth. The temptation to lean into him was strong, but not strong enough to override your embarrassment that he, of all the Spider-People, had seen you at your lowest point.

“I thought you were jumping through the Arach- the Spider-Verse with bad intentions. I had no idea you were running… from me.” The explanation came out of nowhere. Miguel turned to look down at you. “You had the potential to cause a lot of damage, and I panicked. I forgot you’re one of us, and I hurt you, and I’m sorry.” Another long pause. “My claws have never poisoned anyone before.”

The apology was genuine, you could hear it in his voice. Some invisible barrier between the two of you shattered then.

“Are you saying you didn’t mean to kill me with your venomous talons, you only meant to seriously maim me with your regular talons?” You could feel a smile growing as you tried joking with him.

Miguel looked back at the bed spread. Should you? Was this a good idea? You threw caution to the wind and leaned over to bump your shoulder against Miguel’s.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ve all made mistakes. Glad I was threatening enough to scare you like that.”

“That’s not what- okay.”

“You can look at them. If you want, I mean.” You nodded to your scarred shoulder.

Slowly, as if afraid to scare you off, Miguel smoothed a finger over the scars. They were deep and jagged, but had healed rather well all things considered. His hand on your neck startled you for a moment before you realized what he was doing. Four tiny scars from his fangs still decorated your skin, and he was tracing his thumb over each one.

Miguel felt you swallow, realized what he was doing, and then froze. A single second stretched into an eternity during which you could confront every thought racing through your head. He’d chased you for months, but he had a good reason. He’d hurt you. Then he saved your life. There was that thing Peter said about Mayday being good for him. And Miguel’s sad eyes and ever-present frown. And how warm he’d felt while he held you. And the ripples of muscle across his entire body.

He’d kept his promise not to send you back. And he was handsome. Handsome and sad. So instead of pulling away and kicking him out and going back to avoiding each other, you leaned into him.

There was nothing awkward about Miguel’s movements this time. He wrapped an arm around you and maneuver you both until you were laying down, curled up against his side, head on his shoulder, his arm around your waist.

“What is going on?” You whispered.

“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” Miguel whispered back.

“Okay, but why?”

“Because... because I know how it feels to lose everyone and have no one to hold you.”

You looked up at him then. He was staring at the ceiling, some memory you couldn’t see dancing across his eyes. Peter said Mayday was good for Miguel then refused to answer any more questions. The frown lines. How ferociously he protected the multiverse. Mayday was good for Miguel. Mayday. The kid.

It hit you then, and it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. Miguel had lost his family, probably in circumstances not too different from your own. You wanted to know everything about the Spider-Man with the fangs and venom and the saddest eyes you had ever seen. Not now though.

Already, you felt sleep tugging at the edge of your consciousness, a sense of safety and comfort brought on by Miguel’s presence.

“You could stay until I wake up,” you offered drowsily and splayed a hand across his chest. “If you want.”

Miguel ran his fingers lightly over the back of your hand.

“I think I might.”

A/N: There is a teeny tiny potential for an 18+ Part 3. No solid plan yet, but possible. Thanks for all the love on this fic!

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