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spider-stark · 2 months

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INFINITELY YOU

part one // back at the beginning

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 5.4k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // playlist // no way home fan fiction //

The world seemed to slip out from under you, fracturing beneath your feet and leaving you to sink into a deep, dark hole.

It was quiet—so unbearably quiet—and the tension between you and your estranged friends had become so thick that you feared it would soon take form and seep into your lungs. Maybe that would be for the best, you thought, wondering if suffocating on your collective grief would somehow be easier than whatever came next.

“Aunt May…” You sputtered, unable to force the words out. Shaking your head, you asked, “Are you sure?”

God, what a stupid question. You almost wanted to slap yourself for asking something so mindless.

Ned’s lips pressed into a thin line, trying to swallow his own sorrow. “I wish we weren’t,” he said with a small, wistful chuckle, still too shocked to fully acknowledge the gravity of it all. “But… yeah, we’re sure. She’s… She’s gone.”

Your heart sank, unable to think of the right string of words to form a reply.

With your mind reeling, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that this was some sort of cruel joke–the kind where the punchline would never quite hit. But all it took was one look at the red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks of Ned and Mj to know that they were telling the truth.

She was dead—Aunt May was dead.

And, somehow, it seemed as though that wasn’t even the worst part of the mess your friends had gotten themselves in.

“I know that it’s a lot to take in all at once,” Ned started back up, perhaps noticing the way the color seemed to drain from your face. “If you need me to go back over it or explain anything then I can-”

You stopped listening to him, staring blankly at the doormat beneath their feet. They hadn’t even bothered to come inside your apartment, too panicked to waste any time before delving into the details about Doctor Strange and the multiverse and other Spider-Man’s.

But honestly, you didn’t care about any of that.

You didn’t care about string theory or whatever multiversal villains had apparently slipped into your world—because you couldn’t stop thinking about what Ned had said about how May died. It hurt to think about it, the shrapnel and debris that had torn her flesh, the glider that had punctured her side and left her bleeding out in Peter’s arms…

Aunt May had died a horrific and brutal death, and you weren’t sure that there would ever be any way for you to come to terms with that.

“Peter,” you finally spoke, fire raging in your eyes as you looked at Ned. “Where is Peter?”

He spared Mj a sidelong glance, as if silently asking for her permission to answer. Frustration began to prick your skin, crawling up your spine as your stare turned harsh, offended that he didn’t just tell you outright. You knew that things between the four of you hadn’t ended well, but this…

Mj crossed her arms, looking almost as frustrated as you were with Ned’s choice to look to her for permission, and decided to answer in his place.

“Downstairs,” she told you, her tone purposefully clipped as a way to show that the wounds sustained in the downfall of your friendship had not yet healed–and you didn’t care, because you knew that yours hadn’t either.

“Is he…” you trailed off, not sure how to say it. If May’s death had been so brutal, then God knows what kind of injuries Peter might’ve sustained in the fight?

But you didn’t have to speak, because whether the two of you liked it or not, you had been friends—and she always knew what you were thinking. “He’s safe,” she told you, quelling your nerves just a little. A reluctant sigh slipped her lips, shaking her head as she added, “But he’s not okay.”

You knew what she meant—physically Peter had survived the fight with this Goblin man that they had told you about, but mentally…

You understood why she was hesitant to tell you about it, too. Of the three of you, there was only one that had ever been able to delve down into the depths of Peter’s trauma and help him claw his way back out of the gnawing pit that threatened to consume him—and it wasn’t either of them.

And, just as Mj knew you, you knew her.

She didn’t want you around Peter, not anymore—and so if she was willingly telling you that he wasn’t okay, then it meant that she knew how much he truly needed you right now.

“You guys should’ve told me sooner,” you grit your teeth, desperately trying to bite back against the resentment rising in your throat. “You should’ve told me as soon as all of this started, instead of waiting until everything went to shit.”

It wasn’t your intention to sound bitter, but that didn’t stop you from coming across that way. Ned recoiled from your tone like a blow, but you didn’t have it in you to feel guilty right now.

They had been dealing with all of this multiversal crisis bullshit for nearly a week now—and yet none of them had thought to say a single word to you until now. And while you knew that your presence likely wouldn’t have changed the course of events that had unfolded, it still hurt.

And it still made you angry.

“What do you need me to do?” You asked after realizing that neither of them intended to respond to your sharp statement.

“Well,” Ned started, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms against his khakis, “it’s gonna take us some time to figure out where the villains are hiding, and even longer to work out what to do with them. And, since these other Peter’s have dealt with these guys before, we could really use their help…”

He trailed off, once again looking to Mj, this time to silently urge her to finish his sentence.

She rolled her eyes. “We need you to let them stay here.”

Your brows furrowed, glancing between the two of them as if once again waiting for some sort of punchline to hit. It didn’t.

“It might take us a bit–a few weeks, maybe—to find all of them and stop them. And now that Happy’s complex was literally blown to pieces, we don’t have anywhere for the two of them to stay while they help out.” Mj tried to explain. She looked defeated when she said, “We didn’t know who else we could go to that would actually understand.”

Understand.

If you weren’t still reeling from everything they had just told you, then you probably would have laughed at the word. You would hardly say that you understood what was going on—but you knew what she was getting.

Mj’s dad would hardly allow two random men to stay in his house with them, and Ned’s Lola probably wasn’t too keen on the idea either. With Happy’s place destroyed, they had nowhere left to turn.

You weren’t sure how to feel now that you knew they had only come to you because you were their last choice.

At the risk of aggravating Mj, you said, “I wanna talk to Peter.”

“I don’t know if now’s a good time,” Mj swiftly shot back. “I told you that’s he’s not okay—”

“But he’s here,” you stated, nodding your head towards the stairs somewhere behind them that led back down to the lobby. “And you’re insane if you think I’m gonna agree to let two random ass men stay in my house without at least knowing what his plan is.”

Mj bristled at the harshness of your tone; and so did you.

You weren’t used to this.

Mj had been your friend for far longer than she had been whatever she was to you now, and neither of you were used to this—to your once special connection being reduced to nothing more than strained conversations and fractured feelings towards one another.

“Fine,” Mj surrendered, her hands lifting slightly. “Do whatever you want.”

It wasn’t until then that you realized that you had been waiting for her permission, even though you didn’t believe you truly needed it. Peter was your friend—and he had been your friend long before he even knew Mj. If you wanted to talk to him, then you had every right to.

Yet you still hadn’t been able to will yourself to push between the two of them until she had spoken, side-stepping to let you pass. When you started descending the stairs to the lobby, you were shocked that neither she nor Ned followed, offering you a sense of privacy with Peter that you hadn’t expected—as if she still held some shred of trust in you.

You didn’t want to think about it though, unsure of how you felt about that, too.

Halfway down the dank stairway of your complex, you felt a shiver dance along your spine. It prickled your skin and set your nerves on edge, but it didn’t catch you off guard. You always felt this way when Peter was around—as if your body could always sense when he was around, even when you hadn’t yet seen him.

The last step creaked when you placed your weight onto it, and from across the poorly maintained lobby, Peter’s neck snapped in your direction at the sound.

It felt like ice skittered across your bones at the sight of him, your heart lurching against your ribcage.

You had gotten used to seeing Peter battered and bruised years ago. Even before he became Spider-Man, he often found himself the victim of bullies and assholes, rarely going more than a few weeks without a busted lip or a new bruise. But this…

This was different, somehow.

It wasn’t just the blood-stained suit that set your heart racing, nor was it the lacerated skin or his sweat-matted hair. No, those things were normal—in the same way that being bitten by a radioactive spider was normal.

It was even normal to see him standing before you, his chin high and shoulders back, presenting a perfect image of strength even after experiencing something as traumatic as losing May.

Peter’s relationship with trauma had been intimate enough these past few years that you weren’t shocked to see him like this, standing tall rather than balling up and crying on the floor. You figured that was what most others would do if they were in his situation.

But Peter wasn’t like other people.

Peter was a hero—and if you had learned anything about heroes in your lifetime, it was that they were incredible liars.

His eyes couldn't lie, though.

Bloodshot and ringed with exhaustion, his eyes were what had made you feel so sick, your stomach twisting itself into knots.

They lacked the life and hope of the boy you had loved so dearly, replaced with something like rage—a pure, unbridled and unrelenting type of rage. Looking at him now you couldn’t ignore the burning talon that seemed to rake against your mind, filling your brain with thoughts you didn’t want to think right now—telling you that looking at Peter now, with the light draining from his eyes, was the same as looking in a mirror.

“Peter,” a metallic tang danced on your tongue as you dug your teeth into your cheek, biting back against the tears threatening to well-up in your eyes.

Letting your instincts guide you, you rushed across the lobby to where he stood by the front door, reaching for his hand without a second thought.

His suit had been torn along his palm, and as you felt the warmth radiating from his calloused skin, you tried to take some comfort in the fact that at least he had survived—even if you still weren’t ready to accept that May hadn’t.

“Don’t,” He yanked his hand back from you, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”

You froze for half a heartbeat, your hand hanging awkwardly in-between the two of you. “I wasn’t going to.”

You weren’t sure if you were telling the truth, but it didn’t seem to matter either way.

Either way, you tried to understand his reaction, even as you winced from the sting of rejection. What good would an apology really do for a boy who had already lost everything?

It wouldn’t bring the light back to his eyes.

It wouldn’t bring May back to life.

“Ned told me everything,” you told him, unwilling or unable to say Mj’s name right now. You clenched and unclenched your fists, painfully aware of the absence of his warmth. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help, so just tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it.”

Peter scoffed, his jaw tensing. “We both know that what I want doesn’t matter,” he said bluntly. Motioning to your surroundings, he continued, “If what I wanted mattered, then we wouldn’t even be here. We wouldn’t be asking for your help—wouldn’t be dragging another person into this and asking them to risk their life!”

You did your best not to react, knowing that he hadn’t meant it quite as bad as it sounded. It already hurt knowing that you had been Mj and Ned’s last choice for help, but knowing that Peter didn’t want you to be a choice at all hurt far worse—even if it was to keep you safe.

“Well, you’re here now,” you told him, keeping your voice steady. “So you might as well tell me what your plan is—or at least tell me how long I’ll need to play bunkmates with strangers.”

You were lying when you had told Mj and Ned that you needed to talk to Peter before agreeing to let the alternate Spider-Men stay in your apartment—you didn’t care about housing with strangers, aware that there was nothing they could do to you that you haven't endured before.

Selfishly, you had just wanted a reason to come down and talk to him. To see him. To know that he was alive. You didn’t care about anything else.

Sometimes you worried that you didn’t even care about your own life, only Peter’s.

But Peter cared about your life—far more than you would ever want him to.

“My plan doesn’t matter,” he said, his tone clipped, “cause I don’t want you getting involved. And I definitely don’t want you to let those guys stay here, alright? We don’t know them.”

You steeled yourself, resisting the urge to argue with him and instead asking a simple question. “Do you have anywhere else for them to go?”

He didn’t respond, huffing out a breath, already frustrated with the defiance he knew you were about to display.

“You might not want my help, but if Ned’s right–” you told him, gesturing backwards towards the staircase, “–which he usually is—then you’re gonna need these guys.”

“But that doesn’t mean we need you,” Peter protested gruffly.

Your chest tightened, but you kept shoving back against the hurt. Later, you would deal with that later.

“It doesn’t matter if you need me,” you retorted with a defiant tilt of your chin, unwavering as his rageful gaze seemed to pierce through your skull, “because you’re stuck with me either way.”

You hadn’t expected the statement to affect him, but it did, his voice softening slightly. “I always have been.”

“Exactly. So you might as well make this easy on the both of us and not fight me on it,” you declared, trying to conjure up the most convincing smile you could offer. “Let me help, Peter.”

A sigh slipped his lips, heavy with reluctant resignation as he realized he wasn’t winning this battle. “We’ve already lost so many people… I’ve lost so many people. And there’s already enough blood on my hands,” he said, lifting his hands to display the torn, blood-stained fabric, driving his point home. “It doesn’t matter what I say—so let them stay here or don’t, I don’t care. But just know that whatever happens to you, it’s not on me. Because I told you to stay out of it, alright?”

He took a step closer, and you didn’t dare move a single muscle as his lips hovered just inches from your own. “Do whatever you want,” his voice was barely a whisper, laced with a venomous edge that nearly made you tremble, “but don’t expect me to come running to save you when it all goes to shit.”

His words hung in the air like a curse, lingering in the lobby for far longer than he did. As soon as the promise had left his lips, he was already turning on his heel and shoving the door open, abandoning you in the dim space.

You knew better than to think he meant it.

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

You stuck your hands beneath the running faucet, scrubbing the blood from a jagged cut on your palm. It wasn’t all that deep, shallow enough that it probably wouldn't even leave a scar once healed. When you were done rinsing it, you cupped your hands and gathered the water in them, splashing your reddened cheeks.

Crying would have been a normal part of grieving for May, and when you forced yourself to look back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you couldn’t help but wish that you could’ve been a little more normal.

But tears hadn’t been the cause of your flushed appearance—no, because you had never been very good at expressing the more delicate emotions, like sadness.

You were good at expressing anger, though.

You were very good at expressing anger.

After Peter had stormed out of the lobby and abandoned you to choke on his cruel promise, it had taken you several minutes to work up the nerve to go back upstairs and face Mj and Ned. By some stroke of luck you had managed to keep a tight leash on your often volatile attitude, telling them your decision to let the other Peter’s stay with you.

And then you lost control as soon as they left, loosening the reins on your anger and taking the uncomfortable feelings out on a nearby potted plant, shouting curses as you tossed it at the wall.

By the time you thought to clean it up, after finishing another string of irate profanities, your hands had been shaking so bad that you cut yourself on one of the dirt-covered shards. And maybe, once you felt the jagged ceramic dig into your palm, you should’ve hissed or cursed more or stopped cleaning to patch yourself up.

But you didn’t. You stayed quiet, continuing to pluck the shattered fragments off the floor until you had gotten them all, dumping them into the trash before grabbing the broom and dustpan and cleaning the dirt and scattered leaves, too.

There were more important things to deal with than cleaning a dirty wound.

Like making sure none of your friends could see that you weren’t nearly as composed as you tried to seem.

The familiar rhythmic rapping of Mj’s knuckles against the front door made you forgo the bandage you were going to fix to your palm, tossing the rag you’d used to dry your face into the sink and heading straight to the living room.

Carefully shoving your injured hand into your pocket, you opened the door and tried not to look surprised when Peter wasn’t standing in-between Mj and Ned. Of course he hadn’t come with them—why would he? He had already made it clear how he felt about all of this.

It did become significantly harder to mask your shock however when a tall, messy haired boy stepped into view from behind them, clad in a crimson and cobalt webbed suit.

“Get inside,” you hissed a bit harsher than intended, stepping aside and waving the three of them into your apartment.

The last thing you needed was your neighbors seeing an unmasked, alternate version of Spider-Man standing in front of your door. It had already been risky enough that Peter had come here in his suit, standing in the lobby and sticking out like a sore thumb.

Once they were inside, you shut the door and turned to Ned. “I thought you said there were two of them,” you noted, avoiding looking at the lanky Spider-Man who seemed just as desperate to avoid you, busying himself with walking around the room and studying the art on the walls.

Ned shrugged. “He didn’t wanna come.”

“Not that he didn’t want to come,” Mj pointedly corrected him, frowning at his bluntness. “He just wanted to keep patrolling. The Goblin, the one who…” she cut herself off, unable to force the words off her tongue. Scrapping the sentence altogether, she started again, “The Goblin’s from his world, so he seemed to think that he had the best chance of hunting him down. But we gave him the address.”

You didn’t bother giving her an actual response, a subtle nod the only sign you had heard her at all. She didn’t seem to care much, just as unsure of what to say to you as you were to her.

“So,” Ned clicked his tongue, trying to cut through the growing tension. “This is Peter 3!” He announced, gesturing to the other Peter, who was picking up a frame that had been face down on an end table. “That’s what we’re calling him, at least. Y’know, to tell them apart. The other one is Peter 2.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Creative.”

Done dawdling over Ned and Mj, you forced yourself to look at the un-masked hero from another world. He was placing the frame back onto the table—not face down, as he had found it, but up-right. You frowned at the photograph it displayed, a picture of you, Ned, Mj, and Peter from sometime last year.

“You’re awfully nosy,” you told him, your voice like ice.

His muscles tensed, hesitating as he faced your gaze. “Sorry,”

His voice was slightly deeper than Peter’s, his hair a shade or two darker, his features a bit less soft, but still noticeably young, putting him in his early twenties at most. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the suit he was wearing, you would’ve never guessed that he was supposed to be the Peter Parker of another world.

You had expected him to be more… Peter-like, in appearance, and yet as far as you could tell the resemblances were very slight, if they even existed at all.

The mannerisms were there, though. The subtleties of Peter Parker, the things that most people never noticed and yet were ingrained in your mind. He licked his lips, a nervous tic that left you always carrying chapstick in your pocket. His hands hung at his sides and you saw the way his thumb tapped against each of his fingers, starting with his index and ending with his pinky, only to start over again.

Watching him, taking note of every familiar twitch and tic and habit, made something in your chest tighten.

And, when you told him your name, it was as if your icy tone had melted altogether. “It’s nice to meet you.”

For a moment you thought he wouldn’t respond, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly, eyes darting around the room. But then, suddenly, he gave you a weak smile. “You too.” A trace of amusement laced his response, too subtle for you to detect.

“We’ve gotta go,” Ned suddenly spoke, jutting a thumb towards the door. “Peter’s waiting outside so he can make sure we get home safe, but-” he stopped, brows furrowing as considered whether he should finish. “But text us later, okay? Just to let us know that you’re okay.”

Your heart stuttered at the mention of Peter’s name, at knowing that he actually had come—even if it hadn’t been for you—but you didn’t mention it.

Instead, you focused on Ned, giving your sweet friend the kindest smile you could muster—which, admittedly, didn’t feel like much. Despite everything that had happened with your friends in the past few months, your fight had never been with Ned. He was just caught in the middle, unfairly forced to pick sides.

And you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for picking Peter. Not when you knew that you would’ve done the same.

“I will,” you promised.

Ned gave you an equally somber smile before opening the door to leave. Even once Ned was in the hall, already descending the staircase, Mj lingered in the entryway—not for long, a heartbeat, maybe—turning back towards you just long enough to mutter, “Keep your guard up.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything back to her before she let the door slam shut, following quickly after Ned and leaving you alone with… this guy.

The other Peter had abandoned his spot by the end table, seemingly done with investigating your apartment and left to do nothing but stand awkwardly a few feet away from you, clearly unsure of what to do or say now that it was just the two of you.

“So,” you breathed out, popping your lips. “Peter 3, yeah? Good name. You go by that back home, too?”

He laughed, a suit-clad hand nervously rising to the back of his neck. “Uh–yeah, no, definitely not. Just plain ole’ Peter Parker over there.”

The nervous energy radiating from the boy almost seemed contagious as you started to pick at your nails. “Do you have a nickname?”

He blinked, looking as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “Sorry, what?”

“A nickname,” you repeated, only for your brows to then furrow. “You have those where you’re from, don’t you? Nicknames? Like, you know, something you go by other than your actual name?”

“Oh! Yes—sorry, yes we have nicknames in my world,” he exclaimed, his pale skin starting to flush.

“I just thought that this whole numerical system thing that Ned’s going with to keep track of who’s who seems a little dehumanizing, yeah?”

“For sure,” he agreed, sucking on his lip as he nodded along with you.

You gave him a second, waiting and waiting for an answer to your apparently long-forgotten question, before asking, “So… Do you have one?”

The slight blush that had tinged his skin instantly darkened, suddenly the same shade of crimson as his suit. His grip on the back of his neck tightened, too, his fingertips prodding into his own skin.

“Sorry-” he apologized for the millionth time, more nervous laughter spilling out alongside it, “I do! I mean, sort of, I think. I don’t know if it’s really a nickname, but back in my world you really just called me by my last name most of the time anyway, so–I don’t know—maybe that would work?”

The sheer quantity of word vomit spewing from his mouth was impressive and likely hard-to-follow for most, but you consider yourself a bit of an expert in the anxious ramblings of Peter Parker.

“In your world?” You echoed, instantly catching the subtle mention. “We know each other?”

Maybe it shouldn’t have been shocking to learn that there were other versions of you throughout the multiverse as well, and yet it was. You figured that it was plausible, of course, considering that two variations of Peter had just been thrown into your world, but for some reason it just didn’t feel right.

You reasoned that anyone would feel that way, though.

“Yeah,” the boy, Parker, answered, a bit clipped. “We do.”

“Interesting.” Your brows lifted, “Are we friends?”

Parker scrunched his nose, his head tilting slightly.

“Yeah,” his voice was an octave higher than before, and if you knew him better, then you likely would’ve called him on the obvious tell. But you didn’t know him, and so you didn’t say anything when he decided to double-down on the lie, “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Well I guess that means that this is just as weird for you as it is for me, then.” You laughed, trying to add some humor to the situation.

Parker gave a tightlipped smile. “Definitely weird.”

The seconds felt like they stretched into minutes after that, silently racking your brain for something to say, hoping that he might say something—but, eventually, you settled on offering an escape from the situation instead.

“You’re probably exhausted from the whole multiversal travel thing, so if you want, I can just show you the guest room and give you some privacy or something,” you told him, vaguely gesturing towards the hallway.

Parker seemed to relax a bit at the prospect of being alone, loosing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Uhm–yeah, that’d be great, actually.”

He followed you down the short hall, his hand finally falling from his neck and his skin returning to its normal complexion as his nerves began to wane.

“This is it,” you told him, the hinges crying out as you shoved the door open. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere to sleep, at least.”

Wasn’t much felt like an understatement, though the room was typical for a New York apartment.

A tad bigger than your average shoebox, there was just enough space to fit a full-sized bed, a small armoire, and a single nightstand adorned with an old desk lamp and a little pink teddy bear—a gift from Peter, years ago.

Parker walked into the room, looking around and brushing his fingertips against the emerald quilt. It was a bit old and somewhat thin, but it was better than nothing you supposed, and Parker certainly didn’t seem like he was going to complain about it.

“It’s great,” he assured you, and even though he did sound genuine, you couldn’t help but snort. He looked over at where you still stood in the doorway, giving you a timid smile as he said, “Way better than sleeping on the streets.”

You returned the gesture, lazily lifting a shoulder. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning. That mattress is about a hundred years old, so it’s probably the equivalent of sleeping on really lumpy cement.”

Parker hummed his amusement, carefully perching on the edge of the bed, his smile seeming to deepen when he caught sight of the little bear on the nightstand.

“I guess I’ll let you get some sleep,” you told him, reaching for the door handle, “if you need anything—extra blankets, or something—just let me know; my room’s right across the hall.”

He muttered his thanks, but as you went to pull the door closed, you heard your name fall from his lips. It was strange sounding, strangled and foreign, like he didn’t quite know how to say it. When you turned back to face him, a subtle wince seemed to etch across his face.

“Can I… Can I ask you something?” Parker stammered out the question, his voice faltering like a candle flame in the wind.

You nodded once, fingers still wrapped around the knob, savoring the coolness of the brass against the now-clotted wound on your palm.

He took a breath, his gaze momentarily flickering back to the teddy bear on the nightstand. His thoughts felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to force them out of his mouth, “Are you happy?”

You blinked at him, unsure of what to make of the hope that seemed to cling to each syllable and half-wondering if you’d heard him right.

“I-” you tried to start, only to realize that you had no clue what to say.

There was a fleeting moment where you realized that you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that happiness felt like a distant shore far from your reach, forever obscured by the fiery tempest of a brutal and ancient rage—a rage that, sometimes, didn’t even feel like your own.

But then he looked at you with those big, expectant eyes; eyes that should have been foreign to you, and yet felt so familiar—and you realized that he wouldn’t like that answer.

Sucking in a breath, you evaded his question as best you could. “Ask me again when all of this is over,” you told him, your lips curving into a soft, playful arc, “and maybe I’ll tell you the truth.”

This time when you went to close the door, he didn’t stop you.

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a/n - i wish that i could properly express just how amazing (and terrifying) it has been to rewrite this story. first created at quite possibly the lowest point of my life, infinitely you has provided me with a necessary escape at a time when i desperately needed it. now that i'm in a better position, i found it necessary to give it the plot, writing style, and dedication that it deserved. i'm aware some people might not be interested in a rewrite and that's ok, but for those that are i just wanna say: thank you, thank you, thank you for giving infinitely you (and me) another shot. you're incredible.

if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know! as of right now, chapters will be posted every other monday, though i may switch that to weekly soon!

part two, titled "crullers & constants", to be released april 1st

510 notes · View notes

celaenaeiln · 8 months

Note

thinking about some quotes i’ve read and i wanna hear your thoughts on them because i have a lot and i don’t know what to do with them.

“the day Dick Grayson turns evil is the day the universe ends, not because that day will never come but because the boy will make it come”

“Dick Grayson isn’t the universal constant of good. Dick Grayson is the universal constant of competence”

“So, having said all that, it is a few but definitely significant words that fill the contingency plan on Nightwing in case the hero of Bludhaven ever turns to the dark side. Let's hope that never happens.”

YESSSSS

“the day Dick Grayson turns evil is the day the universe ends, not because that day will never come but because the boy will make it come”

This is the truest fact I've ever heard because this is really canon.

Word for word this happened.

In one of the canon timelines Clark laser blasted Bruce under mind control.

And oh how Dick took over. You know what Luthor says?

"After all, as I've heard your father [Dick] so often quoted, 'we make the hardest decisions for those we care about the most.' Well, in his case...that has meant remaking the world."

This man has the power to single-handedly control the fate of the world.

Whatever he wants, he will make it happen.

The entirety of the justice league, all the metas, heroes, and villains too stood no chance against him.

DC vs Vampires

“Dick Grayson isn’t the universal constant of good. Dick Grayson is the universal constant of competence”

I think it's true.

Nightwing is one of the most formidable figures in DC, without fail consistently coming out on top, so if Superman is iterating that Dick's personality and essence of being is the same, then there's really no room for disagreement.

But more truly, I think he is a Nexus.

By Marvel's definition, "Nexus Beings are rare individual entities with the ability to affect probability and thus the future, thereby altering the flow of the Universal Time Stream. These beings, each referred to as a nexus, act as the keystones of the Multiverse and are crucial to its ultimate coherence and stability."

That means that the universe hinges on the actions of Dick Grayson.

Not only does he control the fate of the world but his mere existence determines what will become of it by other people:

I'd like to reiterate that Neux Beings are "the keystones of the Multiverse and are crucial to its ultimate coherence and stability."

You can still be a nexus if you turn dark. For example Lore was a dark version of Wanda Maximoff but she is still considered a nexus. So you're right in saying that Dick Grayson is a multiuniversal constant of competence.

In the easiest terms as someone put it, "hope he fucks up" is Bruce's only contingency plan against Nightwing. The man doesn't have a clear plan how to neutralize Nightwing.

His exact words are: "As a result of overanalyzing any situation, this allows Dick Grayson to overconfident and misdirected. This will make himself open to a second attack."

So the plan is basically 'Dick is too smart for his own good so we'll have to go with a lucky surprise attack.' He's literally saying 'yupppp. Let's just hope he messed up because there's nothing we can do on ouR end.' Note that Bruce doesn't even have a back up like 'the second attack didn't work? we're fucked.'

For everyone else he actually has a coherent plan in mind- do this and they will fall. But for Dick? 'I hope he messes up enough for a second attack to actually stick. Otherwise we're shit out of luck. And lives. Fingers crossed he doesn't jump to the bad side.'

Tim also confirmed he would never make a contingency plan for Dick. The only person in the world he wouldn't do one for.

He's just that formidable of a man. Even now he can easily take down the Justice League if he wanted to.

And we know that Dick has one of the strongest wills on the planet.

"I have my enhancements. I have powers. Dick Grayson...what do you have?"

A world where Dick loses his emotions is a world that would not survive.

#canon #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #clark kent #superman #midnighter #batfamily #dc comics #thanks for the ask!#tiger #cl anon asks

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eyesxxyou · 9 months

Text

Fun & Games

☆🕷️。・hobie brown x blackcat!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.3k

synopsis. you and Hobie have long been playing the game of cat and spider. you chase, you fight, you fuck, you fight again, and you two love your games. but it's truly all fun and games until you manage to get your hands on an interdimensional device.

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🐾warning: p in v sex, unprotected sex don't do that children, possessive!hobie, public sex, y/n is a real hoe and I love her for that, odd love hate relationship, clit slapping, Gwen's here very briefly, wall sex, bondage, mentions of injury, just me being horny so it's kinda horribly written, lemme know if I missed anything

"She's gotta be somewhere." Gwen sat perched on a ledge, the eyes of her mask wide and alert for any sign of the anomaly. In other words, you. You had somehow managed to get your hands on a interdimensional device of Miguel's making and have been hopping all around the multiverse causing mayhem. "You sure you have no idea where she's at? She's from your dimension after all, not to mention-"

The thing is, the devices don't show exact locations. They just tell you what dimension others are in. Leaving Gwen and Hobie hopping about right after you to put you back where you belong.

It was Hobie's fault after all. Being the Black Cat of his dimension meant you were good at sleight of hand. A single run in with you and next thing he knows his device is gone, his cock is hard, and he misses you so fucking much.

"Yeah, yeah, i's my fault or whateva." He spoke over the communicator, his eyes scanning across the streets for just a peek of that brilliant white hair of yours. "I'll keep an eye out, jus' stay where you are and don't underestimate 'er. She'll put you on ya arse before ya know it." He's gone toe to toe with you plenty of times to know that you're rather skilled in combat. And for reasons he'd also know that you're flexible.

He cut off his device, the one Miguel reluctantly gave him after laying into him over his incompetence. "You're gonna deal with this mess you've made!" He almost crushed the device in his hand from gripping it so hard as he pushed it into Hobie's chest. "You get her back to where she belongs then you're out. You're done."

Hobie honestly couldn't give less of a damn about being booted from the society. Taking orders and being a part of a team was really cramping his style. Preferred it when it was just him and his own dimension's problems.

He hopped between buildings in this dimension looking for any marker of you. Your cloud-like hair done always in wild, untamed curls that somehow manage to sit perfect around your face. You wore black leather, nice sharp spikes, claws you made yourself that left their scar against his chest as well as down his back.

Hobie liked how complicated your relationship is. How you constantly kept him on his toes, remained so inconsistent that he never got bored. One second you were on your knees, his cock weighing heavy on your pretty tongue, just narrowly missing the angel bite piercings you had with fangs in, and the next, you were trying to claw his eyes out of his face. You were batshit fucking insane and he was absolutely in love with you though, he'd never admit that.

He hoped he found you before Gwen did— it's been just a little under a month and he's been feening for you, spending his lonely nights when he doesn't have a million wounds and a few broken bones to tend to with his hand wrapped firmly around his cock and your name wetting his lips with prayer. He's fucking pussy-whipped, desperate, absolutely nuts for you.

And when he finds you (which he always does somehow), you're hopping across a rooftop and sliding down a gutter into a nearby alleyway. He follows you stealthily, lingering in the shadows as he rounds the corner and drops into the shady alley. But he finds you aren't there. He pauses, talks a moment to let his instincts take the lead.

It just took a second, a small tingle, the hairs on the back of his neck standing but he hardly had any time to react before you were on his back with your claws pressed against his throat. "Ya missed me?" You whispered in his ear with the touch of a smile in your voice.

Hobie moved quickly, pushing the both of you back until your back slammed against the jagged brick wall and your grip loosened just enough for him to pry himself out of your clawed hold. He webbed you up with your hands trapped above your head. Your goggles were already pushed up into your wild hair and your cat-like eyes gleamed at him. "I'd say you do."

Hobie reached up and pulled off his mask. “Nice to see ya too, Y/N. We can have our reunion once ya back where ya belong.”

“Never took you as the type to join a committee of interdimensional spider fascist.” You scoff, wriggling your wrist against the binding of his webs but you know all too well how strong they actually are. Many times have you been caught in his web, bent in all sorts of positions. He’s always been your favorite toy.

“No’ by choice. You did me a fava’ actually, they gave me the boot ‘cause of you.” He came close, his tall, lean stature looming over you as he removed the watch from your wrist and deactivated it. Hobie looked down at you, looking into your sultry eyes that told him you just wanted to sit on his dick then make your grand escape. You’re always dressed in leather, your shorts so tight and small it leaves hardly anything to the imagination. You were wearing those torn up, distressed tights he loved so much and that he’s definitely torn his own fair share of holes in.

“Don’t you want to know why I went to the places I did?”

“There’s a reason?” He thought it was just you fucking around, trying to cause as much mayhem as possible, begin a nice little collection of diamonds stolen from different dimensions. Your motivations were always a bit hard to decipher.

You leaned in as close as you could in the position you were stuck in and whispered to him, “All the dimensions I went to had a version of you in them. I wanted to see which one was my favorite.” It was a confession of sin just between the two of you in this dark little alleyway he had you stuck in. “Would you like me to tell you about the other yous I’ve met?” You took his stoic silence as answer enough.

“There was one with the prettiest eyes. One blue and one brown. I got to look in them while I rode his pretty face. He made me cum so hard.” Your voice was so heavy with the memory of it but you didn’t linger. “And the other one, nice, long locs. He fucked me so good my legs were shaking. Oh- and the other one made me squirt for the first time-”

Your descriptions sparked something primal in Hobie, something carnal and possessive. A part of him was aroused at the thought of your pretty little cunt he was absolutely addicted to getting ran through by different versions of himself. Maybe you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you, why else would you do something like this?

“You a lil’ whore, ya know tha’, kitty?” His hands were already at the waist of your shorts, undoing the makeshift button you had made after he broke the original one a while ago. His lips were on yours, licking and biting feverishly in attempt to get a taste of you. “Guess I gotta remind you who you belong to.” He needed to tame your pretty little pussy, domesticate it, make it purr for him.

“I don’t belong to anyone, you know that.” You murmur against his lips, shifting your hips to make it easier for him to get your shorts out of the way. He pulled them down to your knees just above your boots and shifted away from you to duck under and slot his way between your nylon-clad thighs. He trailed kisses up the length of your body as he made his way back up, shoving your torn shirt up so his lips could feel your heated skin. “I’d beg to diffa, luv. I think you know ya slutty pussy belongs to me because why else would you hop aroun’ the multiverse just to hook up wit’ me ova and ova again?” He forced your shirt up over your tits, leaving you nice and exposed, unable to do anything about it even if you wanted.

“I’ve just gotta show you tha’ the original is always the bes’.” He had no time to take his time, to worship every inch, every curve, every dimple. He wanted his cock in you, he wanted to fuck you hard, fast, and deep. He wanted to destroy that pride of yours and force you to admit that he will always be your favorite.

He knows that's just how you like it. Rough, quick, and almost animalistic with a hint of risk. You can't get off without it.

He tears a new hole in your tights right that the crotch and finds that your panties are already soaked, the vague outline of your plump pussy pressing against the fabric that clings to you like a second skin. He gets so hard at just the sight of it, so hard it becomes painful. "I's been a long fuckin' time." Hobie breathed out under his breath. "Ma favorite girl missed me I can see." He pressed the bulge of his cock against your wet, desperate cunt.

Your muscles tense and shudder uncontrollably as your lips attempt to contain a horrid little whimper. You weren't usually so sensitive, Hobie could feel your thighs clamping at his hips in an attempt to close your legs. His fingers slid past your panties and pulled them to the side just to find that your pussy was already pink and swollen, abused and misused by all the cocks you've already taken. You were so damn sensitive, your bud throbbing and engorged.

Hobie couldn't help but let out a chuckle, a smirk framing the scoff he let out. "A fuckin' slut, I tell you. You've already been so damn ran through." He slapped your pussy nice and firm and your whole body jolted with the pain and pleasure it caused and you cried out a little too loud.

"Migh' wanna be quiet. Ya don't wan' someone coming down and seeing your poor cut gettin' abused." His fingers slid between your slick folds, every part of you tender to the touch, every movement leaving your body trembling. It's pathetic how quickly he can have you and squeaking, whining, crying mess. A street cat tame by those long, slender fingers of his as he plays in your mess, a reminder of all the other hims you've had. You had been out on a conquest and somehow it's ending with you getting conquered.

It was easy for him to glide his fingers into your heat, the pad of his thumb drawing circles on your poor clit while he used his other hand to grab your chin and force you to look him in the eyes. "Can you feel tha'?' Your cunt was swallowing his digits down to the knuckle and squeezing. "Nice lil' kitty is purrin' fo' me. Think I migh' make 'er a house cat."

"Go fuck yourself." You manage to choke out between the strangled moans of your throat. Hobie chuckled and kissed you, nice and hard with his tongue against yours and his fingers playing your pussy like a fiddle. God, he was so good at what he did, knew just where your sweet spot was to have you crumbling in his hold.

He pulled back a little, both of your lips wet with saliva, and nipped at your bottom lip. His fingers pumped in and out of your trembling pussy that wept for him, your slick dripping from his knuckles. You writhed against your restraints, claws sawing at his webbing to little avail. And you knew his fingers were nothing compared to that gorgeous cock of his that fit in you so snuggly and touched places that, before him, you hadn’t even known existed.

But his fingers were so good, able to caress your walls in ways his length couldn’t. His thumb rubbed your clit ferociously, sending spiked balls of pleasure to every muscle in your body. You spasmed, back arching off the walls, eyes rolling, vision blurry. “S-stop fuckin’ with me.” You manage to spit out at him in a shaking gasp.

“But fuckin’ wit’ ya is my favorite part.” Hobie slipped his fingers from your messy hole and took it upon himself to get a taste. “Plus, i’s no’ like you show me any mercy when ya in one of ya moods. I’ve gotta point to prove here.” His hands began to undo his belt with rushed persistence.

“And what point is that?” You watch him pull himself out, the length of his cock pressed against your pelvis. Prettiest you’ve ever seen, nice and long with subtle veins and dark brown tip beading with pearls of precum that weep from his tip and roll down the underside of his shaft.

Hobie maneuvered (more like manhandled) your fame so that your legs were up over his shoulders. He spat on his fingers, used it as lube to spread down his length. “Tha’ you ‘n I both know you can’t replace me with some off brand version.”

“Oh, I’d argue they were very on brand. All had that pretty face of yours. That prettier cock.” Your words faltered a bit as he pushed into you without so much as a warning, jealousy getting the better of him. His fingers grip your thighs, body pressing you into the wall while his hips rutted against you. He fucked you like an animal, his teeth gritting, his cock brutalizing your used up cunt. And the position allowed him to sink so deep you felt him in your gut, in your throat, in your very head. He fucked the air out of your lungs but that didn’t stop your cries of pleasure.

And as pretty as they were, Hobie didn’t need the two of you being stumbled upon. He placed his palm over your mouth, kept you placid and quiet white he fucked you with intention. He was gonna claim your pussy, paint it white, make it his, let you know that no matter how hard you try the two of you will always find yourself dancing to this same song. You’d fight, you’d fuck, you’d fight again, you’d fuck again. Sometimes you were allies, sometimes you were enemies, but at all times you were lovers.

He spanked your swollen clit while he fucked you in such a brutal nature. There was no sympathy for you, no mercy, no kindness offered. Just carnality unmatched by any of your other affairs. It might be the spider venom bound to his DNA making him this way. Hobie– normal Hobie, rational Hobie– was not a jealous person, especially not towards someone who, in all cases, did not belong to him.

The emotions of it were conflicting. The mixture of jealousy and arousal at the thought of you with another version of himself because in all the ways that made him who he was on paper was, he was with you every single time. Genetically, generally, the vague outline of himself. But the experiences were different, slightly tweaked in a way, and in the way that matters you had fucked entirely different people. And that was the fun of it. What would be the point of sleeping with the same person over and over again if not for the slight differences every time.

Hobie wondered if they made you feel this way, your back arching so dramatically off the wall, your eyes going cross with pleasure as your moans are contained behind his palm. The two of you had so much shared history that even if they were better, it still wouldn't compare. He knew you like he knew many things, on a level balanced by emotion and technicality.

The two of you were never meant to be anything more than this, a quick, filthy fuck in the back alley of some random place and yet you both were sure you were soulmates in some sick twisted way. You'd both go around in these pointless circles having the most fun with never making the effort to define yourselves or restrict yourselves to something that wasn't completely and entirely you.

Your toes curled in your boots as you felt the brutality of an orgasm coming your way. It built within you, clawing to get out like you clawed through the webs. It seized you like being strangled, curled around your body, left you warm and fuzzy and delirious.

"Look a' me, luv. Look a' me with those pretty eyes of yours." The way he fixed your face forward, made you look him in the eyes. "Nice lil' pussy gonna make me cum." Your walls spasmed, hugged him, squeezed around his length, molding to every curve, every vein. If only his hand weren't over your mouth, you'd kiss his pretty lips and tell him to shut the fuck up and just fuck you, just lose himself in you.

And oh, was he losing himself. An orgasm quickly approaching on the horizon. Hobie pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes low and sultry as he removed his hand from your mouth and gripped your thighs once more. "Fuck-" Hobie gasps and shudders, his abdomen tightening with the beginnings to a climax.

"Go ahead, pretty boy. You said you have a point to prove, right? Go ahead and prove it." You watched in breathless pants as he takes his pleasure in you, comes undone for you, his fingertips pressing bruises into your supple skin. "You're my favorite, my pretty boy." You confess to him. In all versions, you were simply looking for him, something you didn't find, no matter how eerily similar they all were.

Hobie murmurs something incoherent under his breath as he cums. He's swift with pulling out, just in time to spill his hot semen all over your heat. He claimed you like he always wanted to, with the way his hands left bruises in your skin, with the way his trembling cock spread his cum all over you, how his lips claimed yours in a moment of passion.

"You can stop pretendin' to be trapped now." Hobie murmured against your lips, pulling away and running his thumb across your kiss-swollen bottom lip before making himself decent. You had long sawed your way through his webs, they never last that long. You let your arms drop. "Finally, they were startin' to hurt."

Hobie removes himself from your body, letting you take the time to get yourself together. "How much time do I have this time?" It was back to business as usual, not that either of you minded. You both enjoyed your games.

"A minute before I call my partna. Two before I start chasin' you myself." He always gave you a bit of a head start, maybe out of some soft spot he had for you. Sometimes he caught you, sometimes he didn't, it was all up to chance.

You pull your goggles out of you disheveled hair and fix them over your eyes. You lean into him, close enough that he thought you might kiss him. "I'll try not to break your nose this time, lovely." You peck his lips as a distraction as you slip your hand into the pocket of his vest and attempt to steal your stolen watch back.

Hobie's already thinking one step ahead of you. His hand grasps your wrist. "No' tha' generous. An' you've got 'bout 40 seconds lef'. Better get goin'." He's dealt with your bullshit more times than he can count. He knows what goes on in that pretty head of yourself, how you're always scheming, even against him— especially against him."

You scoff then chuckle. "Fine— c'ya 'round, Bee." You turn and rush off, grasping a gutter to leap up on the rooftop and run off.

You both love your fun and games.

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #atsv #spiderman #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #spider punk #black cat #hobie x reader

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heliads · 10 months

Note

Can I pretty please request Carlos Sainz x reader where she’s rly shy and gets worried that maybe he wants someone more outgoing but he tells her he loves her any way she is? Your writing is amazing 🫶🏻

anon i love you wholeheartedly please let me speak on carlos

masterlist

You are not who you are supposed to be. There are qualifications for being the girlfriend of a Formula One driver, you’re sure of it, probably even a style guide somewhere if you only bothered to look it up. Perfect hair. Clean makeup. Pretty, but doesn’t try too hard. Willing to give up their whole life to follow one man on mad jaunts across the planet. Wherever your guidebook is, though, you must have lost it long ago, because you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, and worst of all, it’s starting to show.

You never should have gotten into this position in the first place. That isn’t to say that you hate it, far from it; dating Carlos Sainz is the best thing that ever happened to you, making you the happiest wrong person at the right time to ever exist. In every other universe, he’s probably seeing models or actresses, but here, he has you, and you’re willing to fight off every multiversal version of you just to keep everything as it is right now.

Your butterfly effect was quite stunning, actually. You ended up getting tickets to a Grand Prix through last minute cancellations. They were great, came with paddock passes and all that, and while you were lingering through Ferrari hospitality, Carlos happened to drop by to visit a friend and he noticed you while you were in line to get some water. He’s got the confidence of, well, a world class athlete, an adrenaline junkie, a professional race car driver, and so he introduced himself.

Sometimes, it’s just as easy as that. A father’s cousin’s roommate buys two tickets to a Grand Prix, then a stranger’s roommate’s brother gets sick, and suddenly you’re touching down off a plane overseas and walking through the door of paddock hospitality. You wear red, and you are seen. Just like that.

It took one more weekend before either of you knew that you wanted what you had to last for good. He texted you, followed you on Instagram and blew his cover of seeming cool by accidentally liking a post of yours from six years ago. And, when he saw you again, he knew that he wanted the spark between you to be something more, something like a bonfire.

Coincidence may have supported you thus far, but you don’t trust it not to abandon you. At the end of the day, you are you, you are Y/N L/N, and you are so far removed from Carlos’ world that it stuns you to think that you were even in his orbit so long as to meet him. If there are powers that be somewhere in the universe, they’re either playing a cruel joke or messing around to give you a helping hand.

Hopefully, it’ll be the latter, but truly who knows at this point. As if it wasn’t surreal enough to introduce Carlos to your friends and family as Carlos Sainz, Formula One driver. As if it doesn’t blow your minds that people have started making Instagram accounts just dedicated to posting photos of you and your boyfriend whenever you’re seen out together.

The problem lies in the insanity of it all. You are not from this sort of life, you weren’t born into a silver spoon dynasty and you barely know how to interact with any of them now. You get along with the other WAGs as best you can; Heidi’s lovely, sure, and you were friendly with Charlotte until she disappeared, but sometimes it feels like it’s just you and your boyfriend against the world. Of any ally to pick, Carlos would be your top choice each and every time, but still. The fact remains that he will go out and race and leave you to your own devices, and you lack the extroverted impulses to social climb with everyone else.

This, then, is the main concern. You can pick out whatever designer clothes you want, goodness knows Carlos has offered to buy you anything already, and you can get your nails and hair done before each and every race, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, at your core, are never going to enjoy the paparazzi circus whenever you have to brave it.

It’s just not your scene, that’s all. You’re on the quieter side, happy to spend time with a few key friends but increasingly nervous in large crowds. Formula One is all large crowds, as you’ve discovered; thousands of fans, hundreds of engineers and team members, plus drivers and girlfriends and best friends. So many eyes, all on you. So many voices all shouting over each other.

You love Carlos, though, and you love him wholeheartedly, so you gather up your courage and go to race weekends when you can. Every time Carlos sees you in the crowd, he smiles so widely his friends tease him for weeks, and he runs to you first after every podium and strong finish. You want to be there for your boyfriend, truly you do, you just wonder if all of this should come easier to you than it does.

Also, you wonder if Carlos wishes the same thing. He has been nothing but perfect to you, so the spirals of guilt currently tangling their way through your insides are purely of your own creation, but what if he truly does think like that? Carlos must see the other WAGs, how they shine and sparkle with attention instead of feeling the urge to run. Wouldn’t he want that? Wouldn’t he get frustrated that you can’t be like the rest?

Thousands of girls in the world, and he picks you. You don’t know if it’s sweet or genuinely frightening. He wanted you out of everyone, yes, but he could replace you in a snap, swapping you out like some useless part on his car. There is nothing about you that cannot be replicated in any other girl. Even Charles did it, in a way, got himself a new girlfriend that’s a dead ringer for Charlotte. Carlos has no reason to keep you except for something he knows and you don’t.

The guessing will drive you mad, maybe, but you’ll lose your sanity long before that just trying to keep up with everything in his fast-paced life. You’ve been to prior F1 races, obviously, it’s how you met Carlos in the first place and it’s also how you kept him, but this upcoming weekend is different, this is Barcelona. Carlos is the center of attention at his home race, and every step he takes, a new storm of people is flooding in to ask him for autographs, selfies, anything to remind them that he’s real and right before their eyes.

Carlos doesn’t ask for a whole lot, and he certainly didn’t force you to come to this race, but you saw the hope in his dark eyes when he brought it up oh-so-casually at a dinner last week. You had assured him that you would go there to cheer him on along with the rest of his home crowd, and Carlos had been delighted for the rest of the evening.

You are happy to go, truly, but it’s taking everything in you to keep your smile up in front of the reporters and crowds and fans, and it’s just the first day. All you’re handling right now is qualifying, not even the actual race. In the back of your mind, a voice whispers that it’s only going to get worse from here on out, but when Carlos looks back at you as you wind through the paddock, you just smile and tell him you’re glad to be there with him. You’re here for him, after all, and Carlos is busy enough with race stuff that he won’t want to hear your complaints.

That’s what you keep repeating to yourself throughout the entirety of that day. Carlos qualifies well and is properly pleased about it, as he should be. The possibility of a podium or perhaps even a win for his home race has been one of his top goals for the season, and he’s as close as he can get to it right now. He earnestly talks about it the whole drive back to your hotel, but once you’re back in the safety and peace of the room, the conversation abruptly switches back to you.

Carlos sheds his jacket at the door, watches you flop down onto the bed with a smile on his face, then asks you pointedly, “And how are you doing, amor?”

You smile back at him, the expression trained to perfection after being tested so many times today. “Great! Glad that everything’s going so well for you. I’ll be cheering for P1 tomorrow.”

In truth, you’re tired more than anything. People kept coming up to you all day, assuming that taking a selfie with Carlos’ girlfriend was at least half as good as getting to see him. They gave you all manner of gifts and things to give to him, extracting promises that you’d tell him dozens of different people wished him well. You knew you’d get a lot more attention when you started dating Carlos, but the lack of personal space and privacy at the races is truly unlike anything you’d experienced before.

Carlos has been dating you long enough to pick up on this, apparently, because he furrows his brow and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “I’ll be glad to see you tomorrow, but do you want to tell me what is really on your mind? Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know you, no?”

You sigh, covering your face with one of your arms. Carlos deflects from this attempt to hide by gently pulling your arm away, pressing a kiss to your forehead to make up for it. “Talk to me, cariño.”

You look sorrowfully at him, but when it becomes clear that Carlos won’t let you go until you confess, you give in. “It’s just a lot, I guess. The people and the cameras and everything.”

Carlos frowns. “I can get them to go away, you know that. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You look away. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear it. All of the other girlfriends have no problem with it, just me. I thought you’d want me to be more outgoing, so I tried, I really did, it’s just hard for me, I don’t know why.”

When you dare to risk a glance up at Carlos, you’re surprised to notice that he looks genuinely hurt. “Sweetheart, you didn’t think that I would actually be unhappy about that? I just want you to be happy. Don’t think about me.”

You let out a low breath. “I know, it’s just– I want to be like the rest, really. I don’t want this to be a reason–”

You cut yourself off, distracted by Carlos’ hands still wrapped around yours. Carlos picks up on the obviously dropped subject, though, and looks at you with fresh concern. “You don’t want it to be a reason for what?”

“That you would break up with me,” you whisper.

That’s it, then. That’s the truth. If you can’t live with Carlos’ lifestyle, why wouldn’t he leave you for someone who could? It makes perfect sense to you, but judging by Carlos’ expression, that logic couldn’t be further from his mind.

“No, Y/N,” he says, “That’s not right at all. I don’t want to break up with you, like, ever. Not because of this. I don’t want someone else, I want you. I love you, querida. I love the girl who showed up out of nowhere and made me forget about every other woman in the world. I love the girl who shows up to my home race even though it stresses her out because she wants to be there for me. I love you, Y/N. No one else. Just you.”

And, well, in the face of such passionate declarations, who could stand firm in their own self-pity? Certainly not you. You smile and let him kiss you again and again until you can’t see straight, and after that it is better, it is all better. Hearing it straight from Carlos is better than trying to guess at it. It lets your worries finally sink off into nothingness. It’s just you and him, just what he wants. Just what you want.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #f1 carlos #f1 carlos imagines #f1 carlos x reader #f1 carlos oneshot

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yzzart · 10 months

Text

— 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

★ 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 + 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. ★

��𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: At all times, someone needs you, but there was one in particular.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: +18!, smut, riding, size difference, unprotected sex, teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, p in v, mention of bulge, explicit content, explicit words, sexual content.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.164!

You should be in your universe.

Fighting a criminal, or even pulling a kitten out of a tree. — Or also, tidy up your mediocre apartment that was in the purest mess along with some of Gwen's things, since she had spent the night there.

And you wondered, and prayed, if she had locked the door and closed all the windows. — God, you hope she hasn't left everything out in the open.

You knew, like no one else, that you needed to assume one of your greatest responsibilities and not be distracted by anything from another universe or another canon line. — Your New York needed you; they needed Spider Woman.

At any moment, minute or even second, some villain or a piece from another universe could appear in your city. — Well, it's not hard to admit that you were used to it.

Your duty, loyalty and dignity to protect all citizens of your city was at stake. — But, you could at least take a few hours off, right?

But in such a selfishly cheeky way, there was one person in particular who needed you more than anything; this may sound dramatic or even exaggerated but it didn't matter to you. — This is way out of your worry zone.

"¿Qué está pensando mi princesa, eh?" — Your vague and irrelevant thoughts disappeared in a matter of seconds, like a tiny, soft feather in the winds; that voice so deep, tense and a little breathless landed in your ears, perfectly.

That voice that made your body tremble, and made your mind so clouded and out of control, even you didn't know what to do at certain times. — It seemed that voice had some kind of magic, or even a poison that you loved to mortally quench; a poison you were addicted to.

Opening your eyes, you slowly come back to your reality; the only one that mattered to you. — Your heavy eyes, with the vision a little blurred but clear enough to admire the presence that was in front of you, or rather, below you.

The image of Miguel, devoting all his attention and concentration to you, while you were straddling him. — His big, strong, fearsome body next to the purest white silk pillows, along with the small scratches caused by your fingernails and weak bites scattered across the exposed regions; a sight you could kneel at so blessed it was.

His hair, totally messy and unruly, made his presence even more magnificent; not to mention his red face, not because of some embarrassment or anything like that, but because of the intense pleasure he was feeling for you. — Miguel could feel the burning sensation in his chest.

But, nothing could compare or explain the feeling of your pussy squeezing his dick; Miguel felt, in fact, disoriented and lost when he felt and admired your little pussy swallowing his big fat cock; not to mention the bulge that had grown in your belly, it wasn't all that visible, but Miguel watched with desire, temptation and pride.

O'Hara knew perfectly well that your sweet, hot, wet pussy was made for him. — And if he could spend all that time buried in your pussy without thinking about spider society, the multiverse or his responsibilities as spider man, he would.

Waiting for your answer, or anything to come out of your mouth, one of Miguel's large, rough hands ran up your bare thigh; a long, strong squeeze was directed at the region. — In a matter of seconds, his finger prints would be there.

A simple finger print was nothing compared to all the bite marks and hickeys the dreaded man had left on every possible region of your body. — You bit your lip, not so radically or brutally, and proceeded to direct your hand over Miguel's hand; the size comparison was captivating.

"I was thinking of you." — Your confession came out as a near-whisper, as if it were a secret. — No matter what was going on in your city or the multiverse, you needed Miguel, just like he needed you.

A triumphant, satisfied smile formed on Miguel's desirable lips, and let his fangs stand out, at least a little. — Fangs that have already passed through your entire body, without leaving even a part out; but this is far from being a complaint.

Miguel's reddish eyes, which mesmerized and held you, roamed over your body without haste or impatience. — As much as O'Hara was an extremely impatient man. — He couldn't help but be proud of the marks he'd left on your body, signaling that you belonged to him and only him.

He admires your boobs, which moved slowly according to your movements in his lap, and how your nipples were red from grabbing and sucking them so much. — And he knew how sensitive they were; and Miguel made a point of directing his other hand on one of your sensitive nipples and squeezing it.

"Miguel." — You whimpered, closing your eyes to the painful yet pleasurable touch. — The feel of Miguel's cock pulsing inside you, slaking your desire and the teasing, torturous touch he was getting on your nipple was freaking your head out.

"Te ves tan hermosa así, mami." — The comforting words uttered in his deep tone made you squeeze him tighter, Miguel closed his eyes, quickly, as he felt the tight, delicious sensation. — "Riding me like this."

Removing his hand from your nipple, ending the teasing, torturous action, Miguel places it on your hip; a gentle caress was left on the region, then he signaled and encouraged you to increase the luscious and pleasurable movements in his lap. — In a matter of seconds, you understood and fulfilled your man's request.

The drastic and quick movement of your hips against Miguel's brought moans and grunts from both of your mouths; your thin, needy, melancholy moans against Miguel's deep, rough moans was the enchanted combination.

O'Hara refused to close his hungry red eyes and miss any miserable second of the scene before him; no matter how good he felt or how hard your pussy was squeezing his cock, he wanted to witness everything. — He wanted to see his good girl riding him.

"Mi Dios del cielo." — He moaned, louder this time, and biting his lips deeply, making his own fangs ravage him. — "Vas a ser mi jodida muerte, bebé."

You mutter something incoherent, incomprehensible, but it was probably some word of agreement directly to Miguel. — Not even he tried to decipher what you had actually said. — But, the noise of wet skin hitting and your needy and excited moans ran through the man's head.

"Miggy..." — It was pathetic how Miguel watched his nickname come out of your mouth in such a delightful and whiny way; you decided to place your hands under Miguel's muscular chest, gently running your fingernails over the area.

"¿Qué pasa, mi princesita?" — Miguel knew you wouldn't be able to answer him properly, but he didn't miss another opportunity to tease you. — He looked at your mouth, and mentally repudiated you for hurting your beautiful lips with your teeth. — "Ven aquí, mi corazón, por favor."

His needy words didn't go unnoticed by you, even though you weren't aware of much at that moment, and of course, you didn't fail to fulfill another request from Miguel. — Then, bending down a little more, slowing down the movements, your breasts press against Miguel's and you feel a shiver run through your body at the contact; your hands come up a notch, landing on o'Hara's neck.

Your face was only an inch away from Miguel's, and you could feel his sharp, deep breathing against yours. — Your lips almost struggled against his, and your eyes managed to admire his sharp fangs.

O'Hara felt your eyes fixed on his fangs, admiring and gazing, he knew you were obsessed with them and that turned him on even more. — The fact and the way he was so desperate, so needy for your lips melted every last neuron you had.

"Bésame, mi reina." — Miguel whispered against your lips, tickling you; he didn't even have to say twice for you to heed his warm attention.

In a quick moment, like the blink of an eye, you joined your lips with Miguel's; an action you were desperate to commit. Your soft lips, so soft and silky against Miguel's silky, rough but so desirable lips brought you comfort, in addition to excitement. — You molded yourselves, became one, fully fitted into each other.

Miguel's rough tongue explored your mouth, it seemed like it was the first time the man had kissed you. Your tongue lashed, intensely, against O'Hara's; it looked like they were dancing, fighting for space. — Not to mention the obscene and wet sounds that were running through the dimly lit room.

Sometimes, your tongue touched Miguel's sharp fangs, and it's possible to tell that you did it on purpose and he knew it.

Suddenly, Miguel's hand that was on your hip, helping you move, along with the other, were directed to your thighs; grabbing them tightly, and taking control of the movements. — An unexpected action and surprising you.

A surprised moan came out of your mouth during the kiss, and you even pulled your lips away from Miguel's; but he made a point of biting your lips at the very moment you decided to do so. — The sharp feel of his fangs on your lips caused you to shiver again.

Not distracted, but keeping his attention on you, Miguel gripped your thighs tightly and forced your hips against his, making a real impact on you; from that moment on, Miguel was in control of the movements and in you. — You were completely filled by Miguel's cock, and you could actually feel his heavy balls bumping against you.

O'Hara moved your hips down and up with ease, and modesty, reminding you of the rhythm you were practicing before; but, it was for a little while. — Feeling a pressure, a weight on the bed, which was in a mess, you couldn't see Miguel lifting his legs a little, then bending them; you tried to look back but were stopped.

"No, no, ojos en mí, cariño." — He ordered precisely, and you didn't dare disobey him.

O'Hara couldn't contain the impatience, which in this man was stronger than he was, and he moved your hips harder, with more fervor; he recognized how needy he was for you, and how desperate to fill your luscious pussy with his seed. — You whimpered loud and clear in his ears, which glorified the noises that came out of your mouth.

In the dark room, with both clothes scattered on the floor, the noise of skins clashing, your loud and so excited moans and certain grunts of Miguel controlling the environment. — And your and Miguel's scent mingled with the strong, intense scent of sex.

Miguel felt a thin and a little burning stitch on his neck, he had the notion that it was your nails scratching him again and he had the perspective that you were close to your orgasm; besides your moans started to get louder and your pussy was squeezing him even more. — You didn't have to warn him that you were close to your climax, Miguel recognized it even in your smell; that man knew your body better than you.

"I got you, my love." — He grumbles, and making a little effort, to leave small, wet kisses in the region of your neck. Miguel's lips moved up to your chin, then rested on your lips, leaving a long, promiscuous kiss. — "I got you, my pretty little girl."

As Miguel accelerated the pace of his thrusts, frantically, the noise of the bed moving, thrashing against the wall began to travel through the room and into your ears.

With his big, strong arms, Miguel hugs your waist; and besides feeling the pleasure completely dominating your body, you felt safe and comfortable with him. — It wasn't just the pleasure that was there, of course, the passion, protection and security you felt for each other.

A grunt, easily seen as a groan, brusque and deep but so liberating, exclaimed from Miguel's lips; At the same time, he dug his fangs into his lips and bit down hard, and he could already taste the bitter, metallic taste. — He had reached his peak.

Miguel had filled you in; the warm, sticky, delicious feel of his release against your walls was a blessed thing. — A majestic thing, and one that held O'Hara's mind. — He didn't want to get out of you, and he really didn't. — But, O'Hara didn't stop moving his hips, he wanted you to take every last drop of his cum.

With your face pressed against Miguel's neck, he could feel your labored breathing and low moans along with whimpers. — It tickled the older man's sensitive area and brought a triumphant smile to his lips.

"You did good, Mami." — Miguel moved his head so that his lips were brushing against your ear. — "And mi dios..." — He drew in a long breath, then a hearty but deep-pitched laugh exclaimed in your ears. — "Tu serás mi muerte."

#miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #across the spiderverse

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kombuuuu · 11 months

Note

Hello✋🏾! If I could request a Peter b parker x wife!reader where they have twins (including mayday) during the events of the movie?

No.1 Dad!

“Baby, Please. It’s a canon thing!”

“They’re toddlers!”

PeterBParker x Wife!Reader + little ones :]

light angst and a chase scene. ending is mostly comforting daddy parker

(it’s not sad i jus ❤️ this gif)

(Benjy is a canon named Kid of Peter B Parker’s in the Comics!)

“Peter Benjamin Parker.”

“Oh shit.”

The father of two grimaced at the room full of spidey people. The voice of his wife sounding through the phone and into the echoing room.

“Tell me, why the fuck-“ Peter dragged a worried hand down his face. Miles snickering next to Hobie in the background. “—I woke up, to not only my *husband missing from my bed.” He sucked in a breath, glancing over at Miguel. Stood unimpressed with two spider-children climbing all over him and his platform. “But my two toddlers *lost from their damn cribs.” “Baby, I can explain.” He focused back on the phone, crowding over it like it would help conceal the conversation at all.

“You are in so much shit when you get home, young man.”

“I’m older than you by four years!”

“Watch your tone with me, Mister.”

He groaned, huffing and pouting into the phone while you continued to scold him before Miguel interrupted.

“Good morning, [name]. Hope you slept well.” His monotoned voice drawled out while picking the children off his clothes like bugs, and putting them back on Peter.

“Leave my wife alone.”

“Oh my god, please go somewhere private for this conversation.” Miguel rubbed between his eyes, his favourite thing to do apparently.

Your voice spoke back over him. “I don’t need privacy, I need my damn— Oh! Found it.”

“Baby, what are you—“ The connection cut off midway through his sentence, causing him to huff before realising; “Hey! That got me out of it!”

He straightened his posture, collecting his kids, Mayday and Benjy. And stuffing them into their baby carriers, carefully threading their limbs through each limb-window, as he called it.

A sparkle of warm tones caught his eye, circling from nothing into a fully developed portal.

“Oh, I should’ve known.”

“I seem to be making you say ‘Oh’ a lot.”

“You should’a heard you last night.”

“Peter!” He laughed as he watched you make your way over to him, giving Miguel a courteous nod and Miles a questioning glance. You looked so beautiful. An angel to him, the love of his life. He was so lucky to have you. And the little family you had created for yourselves. All the baby-stealing and stupid pictures aside, you were beyond enamoured with him as well.

“You’re lucky I still have this old thing, Parker. Or you wouldn’t have wanted to come home.

Despite the obvious threat, the only thing he could focus on was “come home”. A sentiment that was single to just your home, or just his home. But it was home. For a family, his family.

The admiration was broken when you pinched his nose. “Ow!”

“Shouldn’t have taken my kids.”

“Our kids!”

“Yeah whatever.”

You turned to Miguel, scanning the room and being very unsurprised at the amount of spider people here. If it was something important, Miguel loved a show. “What’s going on?”

“I’m… explaining something.”

“Uhuh.” you blinked at him slowly, unbelieving.

“Stop talking to my wife.” peter cut in.

“The fate of the multiverse is at stake, [name].-“ He threw his hands up, then gestures aggressively towards the kid next to Hobie.

“It’s his father, or an entire universe!”

“She’s not into you weirdo, back off.”

“Uhuh. And how old is the kid?”

He had the gall to look ashamed. Mayday babbled behind you. Giggling excitedly once she and Benjy had lost interest in whatever they were messing with on Peters suit. “Oh, come here baby.”

“How come I didn’t get that?”

Peter pouted over at you, rocking Benji gently, who was still half asleep.

You turned back around with your kid around your hip, addressing the kid near the centre of the room. “Hey uh—.”

“Miles!” He perked up, shyly waving at you.

“Oh, Miles! Peter talks so much about you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“He even named our dog after you!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you.” You smiled at Miles whilst he smiled back, happy to know Peter thought of him as much as he did Peter.

“You too, Mrs.Parker!”

“Don’t listen to this lady, she’s crazy and a psychopath!”

Peter stepped into place beside you, shaking his one un-baby-occupied hand in the air wildly.

“She’s off her meds!”

“Peter.”

He grumbled and stuck his tongue out. Blowing a raspberry, which Mayday happily replicated. You put the tip of your finger on Maydays tongue, pushing it back into her mouth. “Don’t do that, germs.”

turning away from peter, you kissed her cheek in apology, whispering “It’s not you, it’s him.” In her tiny ear.

You propped your free hand on your hip, looking up at Miguel on his platform.

He looked away. Hand settling below his chin as he closed his eyes and sighed.

“There’s that contemplative expression again.”

“Why is he always contemplating, nothing’s that serious.”

“I dunno.” Peter shrugged. He crept up close to you, putting his arm around you waist and leaning down to smell your perfume.

“I like that one.”

You smiled, tilting your head back to look at him, “I know,”.

Miguel continued on with his explanation, showing miles the different Canon events. Showing him Peters, Gwen’s, yours. When Miles seems to suddenly realise something.

“The Spot does it.” His hands shake alongside his voice, Peter glances over to you in worry, but ultimately focuses back on Miles. “He kills ‘im.” The boys shoulders drop in defeat.

“When does it happen.”

Miguel looks away, shaking his head and wincing.

Miles turns to the small group surrounding him, helpless.

“When does it happen?!”

“In two days,” Miles whips back towards him. “When he’s sworn in.”

“That’s- what the model says.”

“I’ sorry Miles-“

“Send me home.”

“I can’t do that, not now.”

Gwen winces and squeezes her eyes shut. Body stuff and unmoving.

“What am I supposed to do then? Let him die?!”

Miguel pauses. And doesn’t relent.

Miles’s face contorts for a second before he turns, gesturing vaguely at Gwen.

“What about your dad? He’s a captain, right?”

She just sighs, “Yeah.”

“Wh- And that’s it! You guys aren’t even gonna do anything about it?!”

Gwen looks down, ashamed.

Mayday grabs hold of your finger. Noting the serious tones of the situation, she stays quiet. He scoffs and turns to Peter.

“Okay what about Uncle Ben? That’d been okay? If you knew and you just—,” he stuttered, “Let it play out?!”

Peter stepped forward, putting a reassuring hand on his students shoulder. “If not for uncle ben, most of us wouldn’t be here Miles.”

He pauses to look at the webbed window of his Ben.

“The good we did it-,” he breathes, “It wouldn’t have been done.”

You harden your gaze over your husband. He doesn’t look at you.

Miles nods, “So we’re just’ supposed to let people die because some algorithm—!” he hits Peters hand of his shoulder and starts towards Miguel again. “Woah, woah.” Lyla interjected. “—Says that that’s supposed to happen?!”

He swings his arms in annoyance, in *fear.

This is a *kid.

“You realise how messed up that sounds, right?”

With a better moral code than most in this room.

“You have a choice between saving one person—“ The slow approach of other spider people filled out the fog coating the room. “—And saving an entire world, every world!” Miguel points at him, hand on hip.

“I can do both!” He tries,

“Spiderman always-,”

“Not always.”

Miles looks to Peter, seeking back up. Peters face twists something sorry, and Miles’s flashes of hurt.

Benji starts to wake up, cooing softly at his dad.

Miguel’s hand gently turns the boy back around, this isn’t looking good.

You glance at Hobie, seeing the apprehension in his posture as he meets your gaze.

He glanced down at Mayday in question, you reassure him with a nod. If it comes to it, you’ll put her in peters baby carrier for safety. He nods back.

“Miles, we all want to lead the life we wish we had.” When Miles shrugs him off he raises his hands.

“Believe me, I’ve tried.”His hands slowly lowered. Miles’ breathing got heavier.

“And the harder I tried, the more damage I did.”

“You can’t have it all, kid.”

Miles looked around in panic, noticing the faces creeping up on him. He makes eye contact with you, and you try and signal your support.

If you run, I’ll run too.

“Being Spiderman is a sacrifice. That’s the job, that’s what you signed up for.”

A robotic voice caught your attention as a large suit approached the outer circle.

“Miles.” The faceplate opened.

“Penny?”

He put up his defences once more.

“What is this?” He yelled, the force of his words drawing an immediate attention. “Is this an intervention or something?”

“We know it’s hard, but it’s the truth, Miles.”

You glare at the faces around you, Adjusting Mayday on your hip and keeping an eye out for your two boys.

Miles and Benji.

Peter will be dealt with later.

Miles stumbles back, righting his foot and turning to Peter.

“Is that why you’re here? To—“

he clenched his fist, “To let me down easy?”

You watch your lover closely, the look on his face telling you all you need to know, and apparently same goes for Miles.

“It worked last time, why not run it back huh?” his voice was raising, Benji getting uncomfortable at the tone.

“Woah- hey, hold on. Hold on!” He raised his hand in a placating matter, trying to tune Miles down.

“You were right, Gwen.”

You glanced up at her, his venomed whisper doing its intended purpose, hurt.

“You should have never come to see me.”

Peter slowly approached Miles, bending down to his height like a person to a stray dog.

“Kid, look at me-“ “Stop callin’ me that.”

“There you go.” You sent Hobie a huff of appraise.

“Hobie, you’re not helping.”

“Good.”

Miles gratefully nodded at him.

“Miles, please understand-“ Peter tried.

“Peter.” Your stern voice interrupted him, and he shut down his attempt.

“You can’t ask me not to save my father.”

“I’m not asking.”

You glared at Miguel, only noticing the barrier a little too late. It opened under Miles, trapping him within when the inner circle started to protest.

“Miguel just give him a second! Please!”

“Dont! Stop it.”

“You let him leave, he’ll only do more damage.”

Gwen intervened, “Enough!”

You rushed towards the barrier with Mayday, her reaching for the barrier in confusion. You can’t help him out of this, you don’t know how.

“Miguel, let him out! He’s a kid.” You raised your voice. Weaponising your authority.

“Miguel this is too far.”

“[Name], it’ll only hold him few days.” He turned around to walk away.

Miles was panicking, banging on the barriers walls and spinning to try and find a weak point. His eyes caught onto Hobie. Doing nothing but holding his palms out, and giving him an earnest look. “Sorry it had to end like this, kid.”

“I said—“ Miles placed his hands flat on the barrier, right above his head. Palms out, You backed up shielding Mayday and dragging Peter to turn around and using him as a body block for Benji.

“—Not-“ The barriers begun to crack, shatter like glass.

“—To call me that!” A wave of energy pushed everyone down as the barrier broke, exploding in a mess of bright colours.

You heard Hobie chuckle, and looked up at Miles in amazement. A second where he caught your eye, he darted. Running straight for the exit.

“Miles!” Miguel screeched.

You stuffed Mayday in her carrier in record time and blew them a kiss as you pounced from your position to catch up with Miles.

Unbeknownst to you, Your husband, along with every other spider person, would follow. Except Hobie.

“Just for the record, I quit.”

—

You had found Miles being interrogated by your lover, him holding up your two children like bribing toys.

“C’mon- just hold ‘em!”

“I don’t want to do that.”

Miles manoeuvred slyly through all the cranks and pipes, your Spidey following swiftly behind him. “Just one hold! It’s rejuvenating!”

“I’m plenty juvenated!” Miles retorted.

You were going to interrupt when you lagged behind a bit, getting stuck on a moving pipe.

When you finally freed yourself, you stumbled into a cute moment between the two.

“I wanted them to be like you!”

He stared at your husband, vulnerable and scared, the beginnings of a smile creeping onto his face.

Mayday and Benji bickered with each other in his hold.

Peters watch suddenly lit up.

“Okay, Peter I’ve got your location.”

Their faces dropped, betrayal raw on the young boys.

“No, no. You do not have my location!”

Him peeling open the crate to the industrial fans, and slipping in. You using your webs to sling in after him and pull the crate shut behind you. Catching Peters fleeting glance before what seemed twenty different spider people broke through the crate, smashing through fans.

You followed miles swiftly, through the busses and over cartops. Using your webs to keep up with him. He wasn’t bad, for someone so young.

“I’m a great mentor!”

You huffed at Peters distant offended tone. “Sure, baby.” You muttered.

You hooked around a building, watching as Miles cut himself off from Gwen. Her hand reaching out for him as he fell. Your spidey senses caught your attentions, tingling in the forefront of your mind. You zeroed in on Miles and watched as he aimed for the train. It hadn’t looked like anyone else had caught on yet. Still scrambling to get to him, instead of trying to cut him off.

—

Miguel had the kid by the throat. Slamming him against the train doors and dragging his body up with him. You watched in fear as he spoke to the boy.

“You’re a mistake!”

You screamed at him from your position below, begging for him to just let the kid go. Miles caught you gaze. You fought against the wind, trying hard to get to him, and keeping an eye on Peter and your babies.

“If you hadn’t been bit-!” Miguel slammed his back again. You winced. “Your Peter Parker would have lived!”

Miles struggled against him, trying to push off the claws attacking him. “Instead he died- Saving you.”

“He would have stopped the collider before it went off. Spot wouldn’t exist-“ “Peter!” “-And none of this, would have happened.”

The three of you climbed to get to them. You grabbed Benji off peter, Cradling him in your arms as the winds were getting too rough.

Miguel slammed him back again, crowding over the small boy and growling his words.

“And all this time— I have been the only one holding all this together.”

“Miguel go easy on him!” Peter called down from his spot behind you, he sounded devastated, your heart broke for him. You knew how much he loved Miles, thinking of him almost like his first son. Your husband would bring him up so often, wondering what he was doing when he could see through the Spidey-Windows Miguel would (angrily) provide.

He always stressed when Miles had to figure out things himself, saying things like “Just give me a day with him, we’ll figure it out!” “He’s a kid Miguel. Wouldn’t you have wanted a mentor back then?” “I’m a great mentor.” “You just don’t see my brilliance.”

Benji babbled in your arms and you cooed back at him, spider beanie pulled snug over his face. Huh, he was pretty rejuvenating.

Miguel leaned closer, growling words of disgust to the kid.

“Let me go!” Miles struggled against him. A choked sound came from Peter, and when you looked back at him you swore you could see his eyes shine with unshed tears.

“Miguel that’s enough!” Gwen shouted.

“This isn’t what we talked about!”

Miles stopped struggling.

“You talked about this?” He looked down at Peter, heart breaking.

“You knew?”

Peter looked down, ashamed. Clinging onto the train but no longer climbing. Mayday held tightly to his chest with the other hand, he caught your eye.

“Peter what did you do..” Your breath escaped you and the words came out a whisper, flown away by the winds around you.

“You all knew?”

Your head shot up, starting to disagree before Gwen spoke.

“I.. I didn’t know..” She looked away, unable to face him.

“How to tell you.”

“That’s why you never came to see me.”

“Miles it’s for your own good!”

He pushed forwards.

“Who decides that?”

Miguel pushed back.

“I’m not a kid Gwen.”

Miguel grunted, slamming him again, the dent in the train deepening every time. “That’s exactly what you are! You’re just a kid!”

“Who has no idea what he’s doing!” Miles grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to squirm further from the beast on him.

His fingers sparked.

Miguel shoved his forearm against Miles’ neck, pushing his face against broken metal.

“Yeah well, I did get hundreds of Spider people away from your own club house.”

The roaring of spider people climbing the train travelled straight to Miguel’s ears.

“I guess he did plan this out!”

You smiled up at him. Seeing him smug back.

“And, I’m about to do this.”

He latched his sparking fingers onto Miguel’s shoulders. Clenching down and watching the starts of his electricity flow through the man’s arms.

The elder was the on struggling now, confused grunts paired with an effort to escape the boys hold.

“Everyone keeps tellin’ me how my story is s’posed to go.

Nah, Imma do my own thing.”

He pushed his whole hands against blue spiders chest.

“Sorry, but i’m going home.”

He pushed Miguel off of him right as he ignited the current buzzing underneath their veins. And watched as the Brunettes body ragdolled off of him and shot off the train and into the open sky.

The fanged man dragged his hand through waves of spider people, struggling to catch himself against smooth metal.

You looked back up at Miles, as he stood, connected by a single web to the speeding train.

“Goodbye, Gwen.”

He cut the thread and fell.

Gwen yelled for him, a call of his name. But peter? Peter just watched with his heart in his throat. His own betrayal heavy on his heart.

—

You were finally at home again. The stress of the day weighing high on the both of you. Even Mayday and Benji seemed to have noticed the tension.

Getting tired over all the moving and all the fighting, it was barely 7:30 before they were dead asleep.

“You think we’re bad parents?”

You were stood leaning over he crib, arms rested on its gates. Peter crowded over you, covering you in his smell and feeling. The weight on his body pressing against your back was akin to a weighted blanket, grounding you as you watched your sweet children breathe.

“Nah, Everyone has their first chase.”

“Well,..”

“Ehhh, want to see the cute photo I got of Benj and May?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

—

Your husband had been off the whole rest of the night. When you two had sat down together to watch the first mind numbing thing you could find, he couldn’t stop moving. Jittering with nerves.

You were waiting patiently for him to work the courage to say what he needed. Not ever preparing for something like this.

“Think Miles hates me?” It was said slyly. Like he was playing it off to be nothing, but the tension in his shoulder told you otherwise. “I think he’ll be hurt. And upset, but I don’t think he hates you.” He picked at his nails as you spoke, you curled your hands over the expanse of his chest and fit your ledge over his waist, he looked up at you through wet lashes.

“Are you sure cause-“ He cut himself off with a clear of his throat, not wanting to sob over something so *stupid in his head.

“Oh, baby. You’re so sweet, but he could never hate you.”

Peters hands stopped fiddling with themselves, smoothening down the curve of your ass and the small of your back.

“Okay,”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

He sounded relieved, if not a little suspicious.

He dug his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder and inhaled deeply.

“Creep.”

He nipped at your skin lightly in retaliation.

“Miguel talks to you too much.”

“Every sentence we shared was negative.”

“He’s like that.”

You scoffed at him playfully and he smiled into your neck, turning his cheek to your skin and watching you. “I’ll make sure next time we talk, it’ll be in sign.”

“No, I don’t speak ASL, what if he says something about me?”

“He says something about you out loud, baby.”

“Yeah but I can’t hear it if he’s signing.”

—

Even later in the night, when you heard the shower running and soft sobs coming from the bathroom. You did nothing but undress and climb in with him. Rubbing your hands soothingly down his back, spreading soap along his chest and back and massaging it in deep for him.

You let him hold himself up against you, and pretended not to notice the difference between the shower water and his tears. You dragged him down to your height, a hand tucked into his soft hair before your lips met his. He would settle his hands on your hips, push you ever closer to him. And take the comfort you gave him in stride.

Eventually you would pay mine to your water bill, and would dry each other off carefully, get dressed together and settle in your shared bed. It was 1 AM now, but you couldn’t care less, being in the arms of your lover had outweighed any negatives lack of sleep could bestow. He would make it up to Miles. Solve the problems of the universe (multiverse), and have you two meet for real. Introducing Miles to his wife, and his son to his twins.

—

I WENT OFF THE RAILSSSS

probs making a part two later, for more peter daddy snippets and cute kids plus wifey reader

#peter b parker #peter b parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #peter benjamin parker #peter x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales #gwen stacy x reader #miguel o’hara #mayday parker #hobie brown

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m0chisenpai · 11 months

Text

Far From Home

Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

Obsessive!Prowler!Miles Morales x Spidergirl!Reader

Warning(s): slight violence, nothing too crazy

The adrenaline pumped through your veins sending a dull thump in your ears. As you and Miles traveled through the multiverse, your hands intertwined, somewhere along the line, a rift shook the two of you apart.

And once separated you screamed for Miles to him, arms reaching no helplessly as he was dumped into god knows where!

“Bug! Bug! Miles!” you yelped being thrown into the room. Miles’ room. But he wasn’t here! He must have been sent to the wrong dimension!

Your panting breaths filled the silent room as you looked around. What could you do? Your hands trembled as you tapped the watch, whispering your thanks to Hobie as you located where you were exactly.

“Earth…42…” your eyes widened. Miles was home….but where were you. Your arms settled as you took in the state of this room.

From the cracked door you could hear the front door open and see the flicker of light. Ms.Morales’ voice mumbled spanish into the empty apartment and her footsteps grew close to the door.

Quickly you latched onto the ceiling, pressing yourself as close as possible. Thankfully she neglected to cut the lights on as she entered the room, a laundry basket settled on her hip, still dressed in her work clothes.

“Ay, this boy…” she huffed, shaking her head grabbing the unclean clothes scattered across the floor and dumping them into the basket.

With every turn she made around the room you did your best to remain behind. She continued to move oblivious to your presence ce too she stopped for a moment. Your breath stopped thinking you let out a creak or dropped something to raise suspicion.

But instead she reaches for a picture on his mess of a desk. In the dark you watched a tear fall down as she gazes at this photo.

“Ahh, I wish you were here sometimes…he’s closed off since you’ve gone,” she shook her head letting the picture go back into its spot and turn on her heel.

She adjusted the basket on her hip to use her free arm to rub at her eyes, once she was gone you quickly shot a web at the door, pulling the door closed as quietly as possible.

Slowly you settled back down on the ground and walked to the desk, and with shaking hands you held a picture of…you? But it wasn’t.

You must’ve been in freshman year, that was the year your mother suggested you get braces. Cause in this picture they’re bright with your toothy smile. You wore a bright pink strawberry patterned cardigan with a cami white dress. And you were wrapped up in the arms of Miles. Two large smiles were on both of your faces.

“Aaron! You shouldn’t have…”

“No..” you pressed your body to the door slowly cracking the door open and looked through. Your eyes widened and you could feel your heart pick up at the sight of his uncle. He was alive? But if he was alive, that meant the prowler was rampant in Brooklyn.

You quickly ran to the window. And shook your head as you stepped out onto the fire escape. The streets were darker, more empty. And any one who was out looked like someone you would have put away in your universe.

“No…no..no!” you shot a web to the top of the building pulling yourself up to pace on the buildings ledge. “Miles, where are you! Come on, think!...”

That spider was meant for you and earth 42’s Miles. You were destined to be Spider-girl….He was a mistake. Now there’s an earth without a spiderman and a spider-girl.

You pushed your hood back slowly, shaking your head. There was no hero here. No spider man OR spider girl. Why would the universe kill you then if you were needed?

Slowly your head turned and your eyes widened beneath the mask. Your unmasked face plastered on a brick wall, next to, “Mr.Morales….” your breathing picked up, the eye of your mask widening as well.

Your head turned like a swivel till it landed on a spray painted billboard. Your mask and colors spray painted stood out high amongst the chaos. Like a SOS to the universe. Like you….were dead. You were killed in this universe.

“I need to find Miles! Where ... .where would he be…The academy right?” you paced back and forth pulling your hood up to shield yourself from the rain that begins to come down. Yet just when you were about to send yourself into the night sky a voice stopped you. A familiar voice that sets off your senses.

“Mi vida?” Your eyes widened and slowly you turned. You were faced with the prowler and on instinct you crouched low.

“What have you done! You killed him didn’t you!” Even if he wasn’t your Mr.Morlaes, even if you were still living. This Prowler was enough to make your blood boil.

“Amor no ... .listen” you quickly throw one of your orbs down, setting off a large explosion of thick bright pink smoke and shooting a web into his chest pulling him to you to knock him onto his knees and fight his gauntlets off of him. Only, he didn’t fight back as hard. He only deflected every punch and twist that you sent him.

Every punch and kick filled with an unexplainable rage as you knocked him around the building.

“Where is Miles! What have you done to his father!!!” your webs secured his arms and legs as you held him to your masked eyes.

“Amor….” you shook your head and pressed the side of his mask. And when it dissipated to reveals…him. Your bug, your,

“Miles…”

A sharp pain shot your head and you swayed, your hands released him. Your body dropped to the side.

It was dark and quiet now, Aaron, oh…why is he looking at you like that? What’s he saying to…Miles, but he’s not your Miles.

But your eyes are heavy, and the pain is so much. Too much. So you let your eyes rest shut, succumbing to the dull thud and dining in your ear.

It’s quiet when you wake up. Your body was wrapped in something soft and warm, the pitter of rain and echoes of thunder would have lulled you back to sleep.

But when your body pixelated and glitched throwing your body out of your comfort onto the floor you were wide awake grasping at the discarded blanket as you clench your eyes till your body settles.

You coughed into the silence.Your vision cleared as you took in where you were. Aaron’s old apartment. Only it was like some comic book villain lair. With plans and papers scattered and pinned to the wall and across a table.

The punching bag dangled in front of you from the couch you were laid on. You pressed your back to the couch, closing your eyes.

‘Let’s regroup, Miles was the prowler, you're dead here along with Miles’ dad and Uncle Aaron was alive.’ You held your wrists out cursing, no web shooters and they took the watch. That’s why you're glitching.

“How’s your head?” You flinched as the shadow in the kitchen shifted to Aaron who slowly walked to you, a glass of water in his hands as he eyes your crumpled form.

“I ain’t mean to go so hard. If I knew it was you.” he leaned forward holding the water for you. You hold it, but you keep Aaron’s gaze. He holds a hand out for you to grasp and let him pick you up to settle you back into the couch.

For a moment it felt like when you first met Miles’ uncle. How he psyched you out before smirking and questioning if you were the girl that got his nephews heads in the clouds.

And he does, he smirks like Aaron once did. “Nothing in it. I wouldn’t do anything to my niece.”

“I’m not though” your voice is hoarse.

“You aren’t” his smile slowly drops as he leaned back, “and at the same time you are just like her.”

“I'm not her. She’s dead. And you…” you shook your head looking down into the water.

“He’s what? Mi vida.” He steps from the inky blackness of the shadows while his uncle disappears.

All thats left is the silence as he stares down at you, and you take in how different Miles is here. It all makes sense.

Uncle Aaron and Mr.Morales were like Miles’ yin and yang. And Miles was that shred of goodness, of hope for Uncle Aaron. But without his father the balance tipped. Kingpin was surely alive and roped in this Miles. He was the Prowler.

“Miles…” and his eyes soften. You must have been gone a while in this universe. “ I have to…I need to get back. I’m not her. I don-”

“Back to him?” His brow raises and that cold look settles back in his eyes. You’d never seen such distaste in them before it struck a nerve. It sent ice into your veins as he stepped forward.

Your skin prickled in unease as he used the knuckle of his pointer to gentle cradle your chin and drink in your eyes.

“The one who took it all from me. He’s got it good, don’t he?” And your eyes lower. Because you can’t deny the hurt you feel for him.

This Miles should be the one keeping things safe on this earth. Should have a father. Should have a spider-girl by his side, to help, to love. But you need to explain it. How the Spot is the one to blame, not your Miles.

“Miles it isn’t his fault I promise. It was someone else. I can help you, we both can. But you have to let me go back home” you plead, trying to keep your voice steady as his gentle caresses halt. His head tilts.

A beat passes before he’s pinching your cheeks right and leaning forward just a breath away. His eyes pierce your soul and your heart begins to pound against your ribs.

The glass cup slips out your hand shattering into a million pieces just like your resolve.

And his fury is quiet, but you hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. “He stole my father, my life. He stole you from me. I don’t give a damn bout that fraud. Long as I got you back in my life, he’s safe.”

The threat lingers in the air and your heart drops to your stomach. Miles was smart. A genius. And for all you know he’d begun picking at the watch. If he could find a way to get to your Miles, he would have.

And something tells you that if he does, you wouldn’t be seeing him again. So you swallow what feels like cotton down your throat and try to stand firm.

But a tear is dripping down your cheek that he catches. He’s gentle again in cradling your cheek as his thumb catches the stream of tears.

“Things will be different. Better. I’ll be better for you mi corazon. I’ll keep you safe this time.”

#miles morales x spidergirl!reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales imagine #prowler!miles x reader #42!MilesMorales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #Earth 42!Miles Morales x reader

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muchosbesitos · 6 months

Note

I wonder what would Miguel’s reaction be if the reader just did the ‘hey’ rizz on Miguel (uncle Aaron’s style) 😭😭😭 mans for sure would be hella confused and tell the reader to just go back to work or something, meanwhile the reader ends up feeling embarrassed 😭😭😭

I could just imagine lyla messing with the reader by playing that encounter over and over again, rip to the reader 😭

But miguel on the other hand wouldn’t think much about it at first until he randomly thought about it 👀

hey

pairing: miguel o’hara x reader

contents: light-hearted for the most part, some alcohol involved

word count: 2K

"Hey."

Your hand was awkwardly placed on Miguel’s shoulder as you looked up to him with a smirk on your face, his expression contorting into one of confusion and disgust? A conversation with Miles about how his uncle used this technique with women had elicited you to try it out with Miguel, but it clearly failed with the way he was looking at you. You’d heard about other women trying to flirt with him in the past, but a part of you hoped that he’d more receptive to your advances. While you weren't expecting for the man to downright fall in love with you, you also weren't expecting him to glare at you in response.

You heard LYLA's giggles coming from the back of the room and you did your best to ignore them, keeping your hand on Miguel’s shoulder as you waited for some kind of response. "I don't have time for your jokes. The fate of the multiverse is hanging on by a very thin line so go back to work and don't bother me," he spoke, the temperature of the room seemingly dropping with how indifferent he sounded. Your hand immediately dropped from his shoulder, hanging by your side as you nodded.

You turned to look back at Miguel once you got close to the door, his back turned towards you as he analyzed the events unfolding on the monitors. You wanted to apologize to him for how awkward the situation had been, but you decided to swallow it down and keep whatever pride you had intact. You walked over to the cafeteria, sitting down on one of the benches as you buried your head in your hands.

"What's going on, chica?" You heard someone ask you, seeing Miles approach you with a styrofoam box. You thanked him for the empanada, taking it out of the box as you took a bite out of it. “I tried out that whole thing you told me about and it ended extremely bad."

"What thing? The whole electricity thing?"

"No, the thing you said your uncle did. The shoulder thing and saying 'hey.'"

"Oh yeah, I guess I should've mentioned that it only worked when uncle Aaron did it."

You rolled your eyes as you took a bite from your empanada, glancing over at Miles. "Yeah, guess you should've," you muttered in response after you finished swallowing, putting your empanada down on the box. "Well if it makes you feel any better, I tried it out on Gwen and it's basically the whole reason why she shaved the half of her hair off," he responded with a small shrug, taking a bite out of his own beef patty.

"I guess that does make me feel a little bit better, yeah."

"Who'd you try it out on anyways?"

"Miguel."

Miles' eyes widen as he looked over at you, letting out a small scoff. "Crazy Miguel that chased me on all fours?" He asked you, taking your empanada away as you were about to take another bite. "Wish he would chase me on all fours. You don't know how lucky you had it, man," you responded, letting out a small chuckle at the way his brows furrowed.

"Maybe you deserve getting rejected."

"Are you still bitter over getting that B in Spanish?"

"It's an A, thank you. But I mean, at least he probably doesn't know what's going on."

You shrugged as a response, looking at the other spider variants passing by. "Wish I could've seen you though," he says, glancing over at you. You were about to speak once more when an orange hue popped out of nowhere, LYLA making herself shown. "It's a good thing I recorded the whole thing then!" She announced, holding up a tiny screen as the events unfolded.

You cringed as you witnessed the scene from an outside perspective, noticing the little things you hadn't before. The height difference just looked completely awkward as you held your hand up to his shoulder, acting domineering in the situation. "You know, I like you a lot better when we're bullying Miguel," you mumbled from underneath your hands, the AI bursting into laughter once more. "You know I can't be subjective with my bullying. Toodles!"

You glanced over at Miles, seeing him struggle to contain the small giggles coming out of him. At seeing your expression, he couldn't help but laugh audibly. "Sorry, but it's just.. that's priceless," he mumbled, wiping at faux tears. You rolled your eyes and the two of you continued talking about art and what he wanted to pursue. Eventually, you ended up having to leave due to some disturbance in your universe and as you were leaving, you couldn't help noticing Miles and LYLA talking in hushed whispers.

Buzzing noises in the bedside table next to you awoke your slumber the next morning, the buzzing happening every five seconds. You rolled over to your side, grabbing your phone from the table as you tried to find the source of where all the commotion was coming from. You ended up on the shared website that HQ had, seeing your face plastered on the front of the newsfeed.

More specifically, your face contorted into that stupid smirk that would be controlling your nightmares for the next couple weeks. You groaned, seeing laughing emojis circulating throughout your screen before you decided to completely shut off your phone. You pressed your face deeper into your pillow as you tried to fall asleep, prolonging having to see everybody around again.

Loud knocking on your door woke you up and while you were debating on telling the person on the other side to leave you alone, you put on your bunny slippers and decided to open the door. Miguel’s gaze narrowed as he saw you pajama-clad, your bunny slippers squeaking on the floorboards. "I’ve been calling you all damn day. We needed your help with an anomaly and nobody could reach you," he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest as he looked down at you.

"It's so funny that you mention that, actually. I turned my phone off since it kept buzzing," you mumbled, looking off to the side to avoid his gaze. "That's not what you have a cellphone for. Don't let it happen again," he responded, his expression hardening the longer he kept you under his gaze. You stayed quiet in hopes he wouldn't ask what had your phone buzzing and nodded, going to grab your phone to turn it back on. You were instantly bombarded with texts, most of them from LYLA just spamming you with the video.

That night, Miguel decided to investigate what exactly was the cause of your phone buzzing constantly, his eyes widening as he came across the newsfeed. He saw your face plastered on the video with the title "Newbie tried to seduce Miguel O’Hara. Epic fail!" As he looked through the video, he started to piece the puzzle together and why you looked so dejected when he sent you back to work.

He had played it off as one of your stupid jokes but he hadn't been able to get it out his mind after it happened. He was determined to talk to you the following day, confirm his suspicions that you were flirting with him before he got any further ideas about what your intentions had been.

However when Miguel approached your desk the following day, he didn't find anyone there except for a discarded burger wrapper and a half empty cup of soda. "Hey, do you know where they're at?" He asked the person who sat at the desk next to you, but they didn't prove to be much help. He let out a small groan, going back to his office after getting an anomaly report.

The following week continued like that, with Miguel wishing he could just get a glimpse of you and your silence being the only thing that remained. He decided to look at your location through his watch, appearing in your universe a couple minutes later. As he looked around, he couldn't help but find it endearing the way that the citizens appreciated their Spider-Woman.

He showed up at the trashy bar your watch indicated you were at, completely taken back to see you taking shots like they were water. "Miguel!" You announced, your voice finding him through the conversations and music circulating the bar. You seemed glad to see him but then your face soured like you'd just taken a bite out of a lemon. "What are you doing here?" You asked, your voice slightly slurring as you ordered another glass.

He sat down next to you, letting out a small chuckle as he rested his head on his hand. "I'm here because I was worried about you. What happened?" He inquired. pushing the glass that the bartender had set down out of your reach. "You rejected my love, Miguel! You don't know how miserable I am," you whined, your head slightly lolling down. "All you did was say hey to me," he remarked, slightly amused at your state. "Exactly! Who needs roses and big romantic gestures when you have a hey like that one?"

Miguel found himself entertained by your antics for a little while longer before he took you to your apartment after you demanded more shots. He was going to be a gentleman and just leave, but you kept a grip on his hand. "Please stay," you mumbled in a drunken state, and even then, he was unwilling to deny you anything. He nodded, taking off his shirt to get comfortable when he heard you retching in the corner. "Jeez, I know I've let myself go a little but that hurts, mami."

You flipped him off as a response, getting up on shaky feet as you held onto the wall. He helped you into the bathroom after that, helping you empty your bowels into the toilet without much judgement. He watched as you took off your shirt, grabbing the shirt he'd tossed to the side and putting it on. "You smell good, Miguel," you mumbled, padding back to your bed to the best of your ability. He laid down next to you, his hands wrapped around your form as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. "You smell pretty good too. Despite all the vomit."

You woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache and a weight resting on top of you. You hoped that you weren't stupid last night as you turned around to face Miguel’s sleeping form. You slapped his arm, waking him up in mere seconds. "What?" He mumbled groggily, running a hand through his hair as he stretched. "Did we sleep together?"

"No," he offered, looking at you as he played with the hem of his shirt. You bit down on your lip, feeling a little assured by the fact. "The time I do sleep with you, I'll make sure that you remember it," he added, in a volume so light you would've missed had you not been paying attention. "What? But you rejected me," you inquired, your brows furrowing. "No, I just didn't know what you were trying to do with that. You haven't left my mind for weeks and I wasn't sure if you were just joking or not so I pushed you away," he responded, pulling you closer to him.

You leaned in, your lips hovering above his for a millisecond before he pushed you away, chuckling. "No I'm not rejecting you before you make that assumption. You just smell like vomit. Go brush your teeth and then you'll get a kiss," he told you, letting out a small chuckle at your little pout. "You have to admit that they 'hey' thing worked since you're in my bedroom," you spoke, your eyes glinting with mischief as you got out of the bed. "Mhm, cariño," he remarked, laying back down on the bed.

After you finished brushing your teeth, you walked back to bed and hovered above Miguel on the bed, putting your hand on his shoulder. "Hey," you whispered, looking into his eyes before your lips pressed against his.

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vanillawurld · 11 months

Text

༊*·˚Not Too Late

✧.* Pair - Miguel O'hara x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Swearing, a tiny bit of violence, sexual and also little violent choking, implied smut at the end.

✧.* Summary - Miguel knew from the moment he laid eyes on her, she would cause a lot of trouble for him...

✧.* Extra - Reader is a variant of Black Cat. Also I was listening to Not Too Late by Kali Uchis while writing this so... do what you want with that.

✧.* Word Count - 1,012

Miguel has dealt with many creatures, bad guys, and anti-heroes in his life being in places where they shouldn't, but there was one specific situation that he couldn't get rid of. He was utterly confused as to why he couldn't simply send her home just like the others. According to him, she was annoying, arrogant, sneaky, infuriating, and downright a bitch. Lyla would always tell him to give her the benefit of the doubt, but he always just rolls his eyes whenever the hologram tells him that.

"If you hate Y/N so much, then why don't you send her back home?"

He always hears that question over and over again whenever he unknowingly goes on rants about her. Most of the time Miguel ignores the question or makes up a stupid excuse about her being useful in certain missions. He knew his excuses were bullshit. He would never send Y/N on any missions because he "doesn't trust her".

Yet, that little voice inside his head couldn't help but admire Y/N. She is an insanely strong human being. Good with sneaking around, had excellent vision and balance, had a unique ability to alter bad luck, attractive, plush thighs, plump lips, and soft skin. Miguel hated whenever he would think of something positive about Y/N, but he couldn't help it.

Some would think that Miguel's "hatred" for Y/N was love in disguise. Lyla would poke at him for "secretly being in love with Y/N". No matter how many times he would deny it, the little voice in the back of his head would only laugh at him denying it. There are moments Miguel would think about Y/N; how she would look outside of her tight latex suit, waiting for him in bed, ready for him to fuck her. But no matter how many times he would think of her that way, he would express his feelings of hatred towards her to the public.

She had sex appeal and he couldn't deny it. And if there was a chance, he would fuck her.

Y/N was a one-of-a-kind woman. The moment she laid her eyes on Miguel, she knew she had found the one... to pick at. She loved getting under his skin. Why? According to her, it was hot whenever he looked like he was on the verge of beating the shit out of her. She also loved arguing with him. It didn't matter the topic. She just loved the way he would raise his voice at her.

Y/N knew Miguel had sex appeal. She would do anything to get dicked down by him.

Well, luckily for Y/N, she was stuck in one of the situations where Miguel was mad at her. It all started when Miguel sensed her presence in his working headroom.

"Get out, L/N."

Y/N could only smirk, "Oh, but why would I do that, O'hara?" Y/n walked closer to him and stopped once she was about 2-3 feet away from him. He was looking at whatever boring multiverse task he needed to concentrate on with his back turned to her.

"Because I don't want you in here distracting me. Go bother someone else." He stated with annoyance in his voice.

"Why are you always so miserable, Miguel? The Spiderman on my earth is always open to listen to my jokes and have fun." Y/N said with a hint of teasing in her voice.

Miguel could only roll his eyes, "Then go to that Spiderman and leave me alone."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. She hated whenever he would say something like that because truth be told, she didn't really like hanging out with the other spider-people. Unless it was Jessica, Hobie, Peter B, or Gwen. She always wanted to be around Miguel because she loved messing with him.

Suddenly, she got an idea in her head. An idea that she knew would piss him off.

"I hope you know a lot of the spiders are running around, spreading that you have a little crush on me. And that's the reason why you won't kick me out because you secretly love being around me." Y/N imparted.

Miguel paused what he was doing, and his eyes became slightly wider. His entire world seems to have fallen apart, but why? He pretends to despise her, but does he also have romantic feelings for her that he is unaware of? Why was it so important to him that she told him that? Miguel turned around to look at Y/N.

"From the look on your face, I can see that-"

"Who is spreading this misinformation?" he asked in a demanding tone. Y/N could only smirk.

"Wipe that smug smile off your fucking face and-"

"That doesn't matter," she walked closer to him and started rubbing her fingers up and down his muscular arm, "It's okay to admit you love and need me. I know things could get a little lonely down here and-" but before Y/N could finish her sentence, Miguel grabbed her by the throat and slammed her on his table. (Lyla calls it his working table. ) Not too hard to hurt her, but to force her where she needed to be.

That was the moment he realized he was done hating. He was done ignoring the fact he was attracted to her. He was done ignoring the fact that there was always sexual tension between them. He wanted to shut her up and destroy her. Make her a whimpering and moaning mess because of him. He was finally happy to release all of his sexual frustration and anger on her body.

He got on top of her and started zipping down the zipper to her suit, exposing her tits and the black panties she wore underneath. He started to lower himself to the same level as her pussy and looked up at her with those venomous eyes. He started to slowly remove her panties and smirked at her reaction.

"Maybe this will finally shut you up."

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

#miguel o'hara #Miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #Marvel

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juniemunie · 8 days

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She's here!!! Say hello to Patchwork, she's my Errorink "kid".

She's a creepy lil puppet that does her own thing in the multiverse. She can't speak, but it's not like she has a need to communicate anyway since you rarely ever get to see her as she doesn't socialize... ever. You might see traces of her because she will always meticulously arrange any area she comes across to perfection.

As her name says, she patches up AUs and cleans up after her parent's messes. She doesn't appear to lean on either side and remains neutral.

Heres a short comic on how I think she came to be

Maybe ill make a part 2 who knows this was fun to make

If you wanna know more about her, feel free to read below:

How does she clean up exactly?

Welp, heres a lengthy explanation: I've always assumed that the multiverse is more or less data in a diskspace, and said disk contains all the data of the AUs.

For every new AU, it takes up space. For every destroyed AU, it frees up space.

Sometimes when a new AU uses the freed up space, there still isn't enough room, so the AU fragments itself to be placed somewhere else in the disk. This makes things harder for Ink (difficult to locate and assist, as well as causing "loading" issues and glitches) and for Error (harder to destroy completely because theyre all over the place).

Patchwork, lives up to her namesake by slowly and tediously stitching and arranging these fragmented AUs together, regardless if theyre going to be destroyed or not.

As for her interacting with other characters:

If she sees an incode outside of their respective AU, she will attempt to guide them back to their respective universe if it still exists. Pretty good right?

But if their AU doesn't exist anymore.... well. She doesn't like loose ends. [So yes, she is not allowed in the Omega Timeline.]

Other miscellanous info:

She can and will organize anything she can get into. Ink will find his once messy art studio cleaned to perfection and all of his sketchbooks arranged alphabetically and by date somehow. Error comes back to the antivoid to find his puppets lined up neatly and staring down at him which freaks him out. PJ's corner will have all the paintings straightened out. Even Gradient's laptop icons are all organized and cleaned up as well lmao

She moves like a slasher stalker. If you spot her, she will stare at you unmovingly. If you move your eyes away from her for even a moment, she will be gone.

#junie art post #errorink #errorink fankid #patchwork #error sans #ink sans #error x ink #error sans x ink sans #utmv #utmv fanart #anyways thats all ive got atm ive had her in my drafts for monthsssss #still not satisfied with her fit but itll have to do lmfao #byeeee

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allthingsimagines · 11 months

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Multiverse Parenting

Summary: One day when you’re swinging around New York a little girl falls from a portal from the sky. She asks you to help her find her dad, but how are you supposed to do that when he’s the Spider-Man of a different universe?

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This was based off an idea a few weeks ago by @twentysomethingwereyote ! Thank you for the amazing idea!

Original request: “Gabriella gets teleported to Earth-1218 or one similar to it and it’s up to the reader to somehow access the multiverse to get her home.”

Part Two

It had been a fairly normal day until everything flipped on its head in Manhattan. You’d been Spider-Woman for three years now and everyday came with its challenges. Managing bills piling up and dealing with the bizarre villains that popped up.

That’s New York for you.

You’d been swinging around casually on your day off from work. You swung around the corner of the Empire State Building when suddenly you noticed a flash of bright colors in the middle of the sky. Your eyes widened, what the hell?

The sky was literally glitching out. Well, this was new.

Then a sharp scream rang out and all of your senses lit up. A little girl flew through the mess of glitching colors and straight toward the ground.

You dove off the side of the building without hesitation and shot towards her. You quickly grabbed her into your arms and held her tightly to you. You shot a web out quickly to the closest building and swung towards the roof. The girl clung to you tightly and sobbed. Your heart clenched at the sight, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you kid.”

You landed on top of the building and looked back at the sky to find the glitch that the girl had fallen out of was gone now. You set the little girl down as she continued to cry. She looked to be around ten and had brown hair pulled into a ponytail.

You bent down to her level and placed a comforting hand on her back and rubbed it to soothe her, “Hey, what’s your name?”

She sniffed and took a shuddering breath, “Gabriella.”

You realized the mask wasn’t helping you to calm her down since she literally just dropped from a hole in the sky. You took a moment to nervously ponder whether taking it off was worth it.

“Are-Are you like Spider-Man? My dad is Spider-Man in my ho-home,” She said, wiping her tears away.

You felt relief flood you as you resigned to take your mask off. You pulled it from your head and smiled at her, “Yeah, my name is Y/N. They call me Spider-Woman here.”

She nodded and you could tell the similarity between you and her dad helped her relax. You sighed at the realization that you had no clue how to get her home.

“What’s your dad’s name?” You asked her and she shuffled back and forth on her feet.

“Miguel O’Hara,” She said softly.

You’d definitely never heard that name before. You had no clue how to get to another dimension and it was going to take a lot of brain power to get this girl home.

You smiled gently at her and squeezed her shoulder. Her scared eyes looked up at you, “I know this is all scary and confusing. I’m sorry you ended up here, but just know that your dad is doing everything he can to get back to you.”

“My dad calls me ‘todo su mundo’ it means ‘his whole world’. I miss him a lot,” She said and her eyes filled with tears again.

“Gabriella, I’m going to do everything I can to get you back to your dad, okay?” You said, trying to comfort her as much as you could.

You held your hand up with your pinky out and you caught the smallest smile on her face as she nodded and looped her pinky around yours. You stood up and sighed, “I think you should stay with me until I can find a way to get you to your dad. I live with my Aunt May and let me tell you, she makes the best cookies ever.”

Gabriella smiled as she looked up at you, “Really?”

You beamed at her and ruffled her hair, “Oh totally. She’s the best cook in Queens. She’ll make whatever you want I swear.”

You pulled the mask over your head and picked her up on your hip. She wrapped her arms around your neck and tucked her head into it. You held her tightly to you and shot a web before jumping off and heading towards Queens.

You hoped to god Miguel O’Hara was out there looking for his daughter too.

Three years had passed since you’d had any experience of the multiverse. Gabriella was now fourteen and a sophomore in high school. She was an extremely bright girl and excelled in school and sports. She was the star soccer player and you and Aunt May always attended her games to cheer her on, well when you could with Spider-Woman business.

Your search for how to get Gabi back to her universe had never come up with any leads. She had literally just dropped from the sky, like goddamn Chicken Little. There was no Miguel O’Hara in your universe either for you to try to rely on.

You wanted her to get back to her dad as you could tell it still ate her alive not knowing what happened to him. But, she had also become like a daughter to you.

The superhero life didn’t leave much time for relationships. How many people on earth would ever be able to understand how much sacrifice and hardship it took to protect the city each day? But, that girl did.

She understood how much her dad, and now you, had to sacrifice to keep the city safe. She was a great kid and you were happy for her to be in your life.

You were in the midst of having a movie night with her. You lounged next to her on the couch as she leaned against your shoulder.

“So, they just decided to make dinosaurs ‘cause they could? Isn’t that a stupid idea?” She questioned and you laughed.

“That’s kinda the whole point. Humanity is bound to destroy itself if given the chance,” You said with a shrug.

“The dinosaurs are a genetic disaster. It’s wrong to bring them back,” She said with a smirk and you threw a hand over your heart dramatically.

“Woah! From a genetic disaster themselves that is rude,” You teased her as your watch lit up.

You had crafted a watch to track crimes and keep you updated on the going ons of the city. Much better than a walkie talkie. You pulled your arm out from behind her shoulders and checked the notification, “Santa mierda.”

Gabi pointed at you and grinned, “Aunt May would have your head for that mom.”

You stood up from the couch and swore to yourself as you rushed to change into your suit.

“What’s wrong? Mom?” Gabi questioned as you sped back into the room in your full suit.

“Goblins out. He’s supposed to still be stuck in a maximum security cell in the Raft. I’ve gotta go before he tears up Manhattan,” You said as you moved over to her and grabbed her shoulders gently.

You smiled at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I love you mi ángel. I’ll be home when it’s done, but you need to stay here with May. It’s not gonna be safe in the city tonight.”

She nodded and pulled you into a tight hug. You sighed and rubbed her back to comfort her. You pulled away and smiled before pulling on your mask and rushing out the window.

You swung as fast as you could across the city. There’d been no reports of a break out from the Raft, so how the hell had he got free? You swung towards the Brooklyn Bridge as you saw bombs coming from the sight. You swore to yourself as you zipped towards the bridge and Green Goblin came into view.

What the hell? That was not the Green Goblin you knew.

He looked so weird. Almost like a devil or a guy in a strange Halloween costume. Either way that was not the guy locked up in the Raft.

“I don’t know who you are, but I already put one or your asses in the Raft,” You said as you swung towards him and landed a kick to his jaw.

He went flying and crashed into the wall behind him. He looked up and growled at you, “You’re not Peter Parker.”

You scoffed as you began to web him up, “No shit. Now can we hurry this up. I've got a movie night to get back to.”

You continued to fight this Goblin and you had him pinned down until you noticed a flash of bright lights above you. Your eyes widened as you noticed a portal opening up, just like the one that day.

“What the hell?” You said before Goblin shot a bomb at you and you flew backwards.

You smacked your head hard against the concrete and groaned, “It can never be easy.”

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position and watched three people come out of the portal. Your senses lit up and your head felt fuzzy until you realized that these people were Spider people as well. One woman rode in on a motorcycle, another came in with a guitar, and the last one was just an imposing man. They were quick to take down Goblin and contain him as you dusted yourself off and walked over. “So, are you guys Spider-Man too? I’m Y/N L/N.”

Goblin banged against his brightly colored cell as they turned to you. The woman smiled and folded her arms over her chest, “Yeah, I’m Jessica Drew. Spider-Woman too.”

She was very obviously pregnant and so much cooler than you. You grinned under the mask, “God it’s good to have another woman around. Y’Know basically all of my villains are guys. We gotta mix it up around here.”

She laughed at you and your eyes moved to the one with the guitar. He cocked his hip and chuckled, “Hobie Brown. Power to the people.”

You nodded and laughed, “I like it. Very anti-establishment of you.”

He nodded and folded his arms across his chest as your attention turned to the last one. He was a very tall and broad man in a futuristic blue suit. He stayed silent and you raised your brow, “What’s your name? Michael Myers?”

Jessica snorted and Hobie didn’t even bother to hide his laughter. The man grunted and folded his arms across his chest, “Miguel.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Miguel was a common enough name, but a Spider-Man named Miguel? You stepped closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest, “Last name?”

He obviously rolled his eyes even if you couldn’t see it with the mask, “What is this? An interrogation?”

You had hope that maybe he could be the dad your daughter had been searching for. You stepped closer and narrowed your eyes, “Last name.”

He stepped chest to chest with you and glared down, “O’Hara.”

You felt your heart stop and you stumbled back a few steps, “Holy fuck.”

You put your hands on your knees and closed your eyes as you tried to take calming breaths. This was your daughter's father. Gabi would have her dad again. You looked back up at him and rushed over and grabbed his arm, “Did you have a daughter?”

He physically recoiled at the question and stepped back, “What?”

No one had ever asked about his little girl. Few even knew that he had a daughter and now some random woman from a different universe was asking about her. Miguel glared down at you as his heart pounded against his chest.

You could practically see his defenses go up at your questioning, but you swallowed your fears and stepped towards him again, “Was your daughter named Gabriella? You called her ‘todo su mundo’.”

Miguel felt physically shaken by your words. His heart dropped to his stomach. There was no way. He’d seen her disappear from his arms. So, how did you know the nickname he had for his daughter?

Miguel rushed towards you and tightly grasped your arms,“How do you know that?”

You smiled under the mask and tears welled in your eyes at the knowledge that you had finally found her father. You grabbed his hands and squeezed them, “Because Gabi fell through a portal just like that three years ago. Your daughter is alive, Miguel.”

Miguel fell to his knees and began to cry. His daughter was alive and safe? He bent his head to the ground and clenched his fists as he tried to calm himself down.

You dropped to your knees next to him and placed a hand on his back and rubbed it, much like you’d always done for Gabi, “I’ve been taking care of her as my own for the last few years. You’d be so proud of the girl she’s grown up to be.”

Miguel sat up as he took deep breaths and he lifted his head to meet your eyes, “Thank you, for taking care of her.”

You smiled at his words. Gabi had been the best to ever happen to you. You sniffled as you did your best to hold your own tears back, “I’m grateful for her everyday.”

Miguel let out a shaky breath before he pushed himself to his feet. You quickly stood up and had to crane your neck to look up at him as he asked, “Can I see her?”

Your heart broke at the sight of him. This was a man who had clearly never stopped looking for his kid and he wanted her back. You looked around at the disaster around you and sighed before you met his eyes again, “I think it’s best to do this tomorrow. I need to talk to her and give her time to process this.”

Miguel looked ready to put up a fight at your words. You quickly grabbed his hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze, “I know you want to see her now, but she needs time and so do you. There’s no need to rush this.”

Miguel bit his lip to hold in his frustration at your words. He wanted everything to go great when he saw his daughter again and as upset as the thought made him- you knew her better now than he did. Miguel nodded and let go of your hands,“I understand.”

You smiled and let out a shaky breath, “I can take her to you tomorrow. Is there a way I can meet you?”

Miguel looked back and held his hand out. Jessica tossed a watch similar to your own and he caught it before offering it to you. You took the watch from him and slipped it onto your free wrist. He took your hand in his and pressed a button, “Hit this and scroll until you see Earth-928, that’s headquarters.”

You shook your head and laughed at his words, “Headquarters? This feels like S.H.I.E.L.D., like a super secret superhero club.”

Miguel shook his head at you, but secretly smiled to himself. If his daughter could have ended up with anyone, a witty Spider-Woman from another universe wasn’t the worst possibility.

“Open the portal and come there at eleven,” He said, quickly showing you how to do it yourself.

“It’s a date,” You said without thinking and your cheeks lit up.

Miguel watched you in amusement as you became clearly very embarrassed at your own words. You folded your arms across your chest defensively and cursed, “No! Not like that. Ah, mierda you know what I meant.”

Miguel laughed at you and felt a pull towards your demeanor. Like all of the other Spider-Men, aside from himself, you had a good sense of humor and for once it didn’t completely annoy him. Miguel softly smiled at you before he surprised even himself by pulling you into a tight hug.

Your cheeks lit up again because from everything you had picked up about him hugs were definitely not in his repertoire. His grumpy demeanor did not scream that he was a hug guy, so you were going to take this as a success. Miguel stepped back, remembering himself as he cleared his throat and looked down at you, “Thank you for taking care of my little girl.”

You smiled at him and nodded, “I love her as my own. I’ll talk to her tonight and get her ready, okay?”

Miguel nodded and you backed away as you checked to make sure Goblin was all taken care of. You smiled at the group and saluted them, “Thanks for taking care of that weirdo! Can’t have more Green Goblins running around.”

You looked at Miguel one last time before you shot a web and swung away. The whole trip home felt like a blur as you fretted about how she would respond. You were glad you had found her dad, but did this mean she’d never come back? Would she visit you still? Would Miguel be okay with you still being her mom? You were the only person she’d ever called mom.

You landed in an alley near your apartment and quickly changed out of the suit before heading home. You took the elevator up in your building and let out a sigh to calm yourself before you unlocked the door.

Gabi was sitting at the kitchen table working on a painting, but her head snapped to the door as she noticed you come in. You let out a sigh as you kicked your shoes off, “You didn’t have to wait up for me.”

She dropped her brush and rushed to your side and tackled you in a hug. You let out a sigh and smiled as you hugged her back, “Hey kiddo.”

She pulled away from you and you brushed her dark hair from her tired eyes, “Why’re you still up? It’s way past your bedtime.”

She rolled her eyes at your teasing, “Can’t I just be worried about my mom?”

You nodded and sighed, suddenly feeling the weight of having to tell her the news. You wrapped your arm around her shoulder and led her to the couch, “We need to talk hun.”

Gabi tensed at your words as you sat on the couch. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders as she asked, “Am I in trouble?”

You shook your head and squeezed her shoulder, “You know, I am grateful everyday that I get to be your mom and that you came into my life. I wouldn’t change anything for the world.”

Gabi leaned into your hold as her cheeks lit up and she smiled. You bit your lip to hold back the wave of emotion threatening to crash over you, “But I can’t imagine how hard it was for your dad to lose his daughter and for you to be away from him.”

Gabi quickly scrubbed at her eyes and nodded. You pulled away from her and put your hand on the side of her face as you tried to smile as comfortingly as possible, “Gabi, I found your dad.”

Her face paled and she grabbed onto you, “Mom- I don’t understand- what?”

You smiled comfortingly and you scooted closer to her, “I met your dad tonight. He came from your universe with a few other Spider-Men.”

She then broke down into tears and clutched onto you like a lifeline. You held her tightly to you as she sobbed. After a few minutes she looked up at you with puffy eyes, “Where is he? Why isn’t he here?”

You pushed her hair out of her eyes and squeezed her shoulder in support, “He wanted to angel, but I think you both needed time to process this. You’re getting your dad back and he’s getting his daughter.”

She nodded in understanding and you sent her a small smile, “Besides he was still in his suit and could probably use a shower before you had to give him tons of hugs. By the way, was he always a grump?”

Gabi laughed and nodded, “Yeah, he was always really grumpy with other people. But, it’s all a lie. He’s a softie.”

You smiled at her words, that made more sense rather than the stoic demeanor he put on. She looked at you hopefully, “When can I see him?”

“We’ll meet him in some Spider-Man HQ tomorrow at eleven. But if that’s too soon I can go and tell him you need time, just say the word,” You said as you tightened your hold around her shoulders.

“It’s not that. It’s just, when I go back to him will I still be able to see you? Of course I want to be with my dad, but you’re my mom too. I don’t wanna leave you,” she said as she tucked herself further into your side.

It was your biggest fear too. She was your kid now and you didn’t want to let her go either. You smiled wistfully and kissed her forehead, “Don’t worry about it tonight. We’ll figure everything out tomorrow, I swear.”

The next morning you and Gabi both nervously stood in the living room as it neared eleven. She fretted over herself as she fixed her hair again for the thousandth time. You smiled as you squeezed her shoulders and then pressed a kiss to the side of her head, “Don’t worry, he still loves you. You’re still todo su mundo, I promise love.”

She nodded and squeezed your hand on her shoulder, “Thanks, I love you mom.”

You took her hand into your own and smiled at her before pulling your mask over your face, “I love you too. Ready to go?”

She nodded and you held up your watch and pressed the button. You then scrolled to Earth-928 and hit the button to open a portal. A burst of colors appeared in front of you and you both looked at each other in awe. You squeezed her hand in yours before you both stepped into the portal.

You gripped your hand in yours as you tumbled through an inter dimensional tube. Then suddenly you both landed in a different universe. Your eyes quickly moved to Gabi and gave her a quick once over to make sure she was alright before turning your attention to the world around you.

Holy shit.

There were flying cars, buildings going into the clouds, and there were only spider people here. This place was filled to the brim with every kind of Spider Person you could possibly think of. Gabi had a look of wonder in her eyes as she looked around at the world in front of her.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Jessica standing there with a bright smile on her face. Jessica walked up to you and you smiled in relief, “Jessica. It’s good to see at least someone here that I know.”

She nudged your shoulder and laughed, “You can call me Jess. I think we’ll be seeing enough of each other that we’ll be friends.”

You nodded with a smile before her attention turned to Gabi and her eyes softened. She met your eyes again and you could see the sympathy in her eyes for what you were feeling, from one mom to another.

“Come on, I’ll take you to his place. He’s waiting for you two,” She said and then began walking further into HQ.

You both followed behind her as she led you through a maze of hundreds of different Spider People. You could tell Gabi was in awe of the sights around her, but her nerves were eating her alive. You held her hand tightly in your own to keep her grounded as you finally began to move away from the crowds.

You reached what looked like a residential wing of sorts as Jess led you into the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. The ride to the top gave you a great view of this world, but you were nervous for Gabi to meet her dad. She was still a kid when he last saw her and now she was growing into an amazing young woman.

The elevator reached the top and you came face to face with the door to his apartment. Jess stayed in the elevator, but gave you both a comforting smile, “Good luck.”

You nodded in thanks before you both walked up to the door. You squeezed Gabi’s hand and she looked up at you, “I’ve got you. No matter what happens next.”

She nodded and you dropped her hand to let her do this on her own. You pulled your mask from your head and shoved it in your pocket as she raised her hand and knocked on the door. The door swung open and Miguel stood in front of you now with no suit and in casual clothes.

He looked so much like his daughter.

Gabi’s eyes watered as she reached out for him, “Dad? Is it really you?”

Miguel nodded, clearly choked up, “Gabi, my little girl, look at you.”

Gabi burst into tears and jumped into her dads awaiting arms. Miguel pulled her into his arms and held his daughter to him.

This made everything worth it. Gabi finally had her dad back. You’d done it.

They continued to hug for a while until Miguel let out a half laugh and sob as he looked at his daughter, “God, look at you. You’re a beautiful young woman now.”

Gabi smiled at her dad as she wiped away her tears, “And now you’re old and grumpy.”

Miguel laughed at his daughter and clearly this was the happiest he’d been in years. Miguel finally moved his eyes to you and you felt a little out of place being here. Gabi reached towards you and grabbed your hand and pulled you forward, “Dad, this is my mom, Y/N. She’s been there for me ever since I landed in her universe.”

You met Miguel’s eyes and you both seemed to stop.

Wow, he was really good looking.

The intimidating demeanor he had previously only added to your attraction. He had dark tousled hair and a jawline that looked like it was cut by the gods.

Miguel was taken aback by you. Out of all of the thousands of Spider People he’d recruited, none of them held a candle to you. You were beautiful. You were a kind person and a good one. Oh he was in for it.

“Hey Miguel. Nice to see you without the mask and everything,” You said, trying to keep your embarrassment to a minimum.

Miguel nodded and you swore his own cheeks looked a little pink, “Thanks again, for everything.”

Gabi looked between the two of you with a mischievous look written all over her face. You narrowed your eyes at her, oh god what was she up to. Miguel opened the door to his apartment and you followed Gabi in and she looked around in wonder at all the futuristic technology.

His apartment didn’t seem homey. It was huge, but it was lonely. It was missing his daughter.

You looked around as Gabi and Miguel sat down to talk when you noticed a picture of Miguel and a little girl. You walked over to the frame and picked it up. The picture was of Gabi as a little girl shoving an ice cream cone into Miguel’s face as he smiled lovingly at your daughter.

“Do you have any pictures of her as a baby?” You blurted out without thinking.

You turned to face them and Miguel had an eyebrow raised at you. You flushed, slightly embarrassed for just speaking without thinking as Miguel sat next to Gabi with his arm around her shoulders.

“I’ve always wondered what she looked like as a baby. Y’know since I’ve never seen her that young,” You said and Gabi rolled her eyes.

“Mom, you’re just gonna use those to embarrass me,” Gabi teased you with a smile.

You set the frame down and went over to her and pressed a kiss to her, “I’m pretty sure that’s in the job description.”

“Yeah, I’ve got them back here,” Miguel said as he stood and began walking down the hallway.

You quickly followed after him then he suddenly stopped in front of a closet. You stumbled into him and he grabbed your arm to stabilize you. You met his eyes and bit your lip and shyly stepped away, “Sorry.”

Miguel opened the closet and reached into the back and pulled out two large scrapbooks. He placed the old large scrapbooks in your hands and you smiled up at him, “Can’t say I would’ve chalked you up as the scrapbooker type. I’m very impressed.”

Miguel shut the door and leaned against it, “Well, I’m a single dad what can I say. There’s plenty you don’t know about me.”

“Well at least one of her parents has to be good at it. I can hardly do anything creative that isn’t tech related. Worst soccer mom ever,” You said as you pulled the books to your chest.

Miguel smiled at you.

What? It was a smile just for you, but kind of in a teasing way? He was way too hot to be doing things like this. You were starting to get mixed signals from him. First he was stoic and grumpy and now he was charming and making scrapbooks.

He was also your daughter's father. That made everything far more complicated.

“Thanks Miguel,” You said before you headed back to the living room and sat down next to Gabi.

She leaned into your shoulder and whispered, “He’s totally into you.”

Your eyes widened and you checked to make sure Miguel was still in the hallway. You pressed a finger to her mouth and shook your head, “Nope. Nada. Zip. Don’t even start on this.”

Miguel sat down on her other side and the two began talking as you tried to keep your heated cheeks from view. You opened the book in front of you and began to look through it. There were so many photos of her as a baby and you couldn’t help but to feel devastated at the possible loss of your daughter.

Why would Miguel let her stay with you? How was she supposed to manage traveling through different universes and maintain a normal teenage life?

You flipped through the pages, holding your bottom lip firmly between your teeth in fear of losing the best thing you’d ever had. You wanted her to have a relationship with her dad, but that didn’t mean you wanted her gone forever.

You gently set the books on the table after flipping past a picture of Gabi as a little girl with a replica of her dad’s mask pulled over her head. You stood from your spot on the couch and mustered up your best smile, but not meeting either of their eyes, “Sorry, I just need some air.”

“Mom? You okay?” Gabi asked with a worried voice.

You knew if you met her eyes you’d lose all of your self control and burst into tears. You nodded and headed towards the balcony door, “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

You opened the door, shot a web, and pulled yourself to the roof. You let out a shaky breath as you plopped onto the roof and looked out at the city. Pulling your knees to your chest, you rested your chin on your knees and looked out at Nueva York. This universe was beautiful.

The city always calmed you, but now it was a reminder of everything you could lose.

Some time had passed when you heard a thwip similar to your own and there was a thud on the roof behind you. You closed your eyes in anticipation of the bad news Miguel was about to bring you. He quietly sat next to you at the edge of the roof and hung his feet over the ledge.

“She’s worried about you,” Miguel said, looking over at your tense form.

You bit your lip and shook your head, “I’m okay.”

“Tell me about her,” He asked, looking out at the sun setting over the city.

You tried to keep your sniffles at bay as you spoke, “She’s incredibly smart and way too intuitive for her own good.”

Miguel chuckled at your words and you moved your eyes to him as he said, “She always got into trouble when she was little because she was like that.”

You smiled softly at his words and let your knees hang over the edge, “She gets in trouble in some of her classes because she outsmarts her teachers. Can’t be mad at that.”

Miguel watched as you began to open up and relax as you talked about Gabi. You were too good for anything he deserved, but maybe you were meant to be here with him. Maybe Gabi was meant to bring you together.

Maybe the rules of the multiverse were a little more lenient than he thought.

“She’s a super talented soccer player. She still young, but some college scouts have been watching her play and showed interest. She’s just a great kid. You raised an amazing daughter,” You said, looking at him with a smile.

He bumped your shoulder with his own as his lips slightly curled up, “You did too y’know.”

Your eyes slightly widened at his words and your voice caught in your throat, “I-I’m glad you can be together again. I really am.”

“But?” He asked, his dark eyes seeing through your walls.

Tears welled up, but you blinked quickly to get them to go away, “But I don’t want to lose her either. She’s my daughter now too.”

He stayed quiet as you began to ramble, “I know being outside of your universe can mess things up, but she’s been fine. She never glitched or had any issues in my universe. Don’t you think that’s a sign-“

“That she could be a part of both of our universes,” Miguel finished for you and you nodded.

Miguel swallowed down his own nerves and placed his hand on yours and gently squeezed it, “I just want her to be happy. I don’t think taking her away from her mom would do that.”

Your heart leapt at his words as you gripped his hand, “Seriously? You’d be okay with splitting time with me?”

Miguel chuckled and smiled at you, “I don’t think splitting is the right word. I’m thinking more along the lines of figuring this out together.”

Your cheeks lit up and you smiled at him, “I’d like that. We can finally be the PTA parents she alway deserved.”

You and Miguel shared a moment where you just looked at one another and things began to change. You were going to figure out this parenting thing together.

“Are you guys done being sappy up there! I’m getting bored down here,” Gabi shouted from Miguel’s apartment.

The two of you shared a look and laughed at your daughter. Miguel shook his head as he called out, “You’re in the clear.”

You heard metal clinging as Gabi climbed to the top of the fire escape and hopped onto the roof. She smiled at you and Miguel sitting next to each other as she walked over and plopped herself between you two. She grabbed both of your hands into her own and looked at you both, “We’re a team, right? The whole solo superhero thing is such a bad idea. We work better together.”

You both shared a look before laughing at her. You brushed some hair behind her ear, “We’re a team. But that still doesn’t mean you get to be the guy in the chair for either of us.”

Gabi rolled her eyes and looked to her dad, “You gonna defend me here?”

Miguel smiled at his daughter, “Listen to your mom mija.”

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman

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