#spiderverse x mcu

[sunnysideprincess]

Oh look, I did the thing —

[irlplasticlamb]

i love it when spider people…..

prints + merch + commission info

[multifariousqueer]

can you write miles 42 having readers bank account, card ALL that on his phone and gets mad if she purchases shi with money he didint give her. its really crazy but its miles 42....what do you expect??? hehe

Sure love!!!

A/n: y’all I love you so much but I need you guys to start requesting regular miles fanfic pls. Although 42 miles owns my 🩷

It was just a simple necklace. It was the Vivienne Westwood necklace that you saw everyone around you wearing and wanted so badly. You knew Miles would get it for you in a heartbeat but a part of you wanted to get it for yourself. It had been a long, stressful semester but you struggled through it all and got to a point where ou were passing with A’s and B’s. Coincidentally, you had gotten a job at Starbucks after months of applying and you had about $1000 saved up of your own money that you were waiting to spend on something special. That was, until that “something special” came along in the form of Miles.

You never knew what he did but you knew he was making 8x your salary in a month. It seemed like anything you wanted, you got when you were with Miles; shoes, clothes, books, makeup any and everything you wanted, it was yours in a matter of days. It’s worth mentioning that Miles is extremely overprotective and wants to know everything about what you’re doing and buying because he loves you and cares about your habits.

Even on Miles’s birthday when you dipped into your savings to get him the latest Jordan’s, he was furious that you had to use your own money:

“Damn Ma, these are valid. How much were they?”

“Oh don’t worry about it” you said

“I said, how much were they.” His eyes narrowing in on you because he knew how much they were because he was gonna buy them 2 weeks ago but decided not to.

“$500. I’ve been saving for them for you, baby. It’s all good” you tried to assure him

“Aight. thank you.” He said, pulling you close to him, the scent of the Dior Sauvage cologne you also bought him, filling your nostrils

But deep down you knew he was pissed off and mad that you spent your own money, so after a long talk about how he should be able to keep tabs on you and keep you safe, you gave him your Apple Pay and banking info for emergencies only but of course it’s Miles and being the overprotective boyfriend he is, he checks it everyday for any “extravagant purchases” made by you or someone else.

Of course he isn’t crazy, he set a $25 limit for you before he steps in and asks what’s up. Once, you were at a mall with your friend and found the cutest shirt at Urban Outfitters and decided to buy it. The price tag read $50 but you went ahead and got it; the same happened at Bath and Body Works and Tilly’s and as you made your way to the bathroom, you got a text from Miles:

Miles: did someone take your card?

You: no why??

Miles: why’d you spend $150 in an hour??

You: I’m at the mall

Miles: so? I pay for your shit

You: dawg it’s $150. It’s not that deep 💀

Miles: I ain’t yo “dawg” and yes it is when Yk I buy you shit

You: you aren’t my sugar daddy

Miles: I basically am atp. I’m sending you $1000, buy something cute

You contemplated leaving him on seen but you remembered how he hates that so you replied:

You: Okay

You had saved up enough to get the necklace and when you got it, you were ecstatic. You thought about all of the possible outfit combos and how good it will look against your brown skin but your thoughts were interrupted by a certain someone:

Miles: what’d I tell you, Mami?

You: ?

Miles: don’t play dumb, yk I would’ve bought you that necklace in a heartbeat but instead you wanted to be miss independent and buy it yourself. I guess since you’re so independent, I’ll stop sending you that $1000 every week. How about that?

You: ok

Miles: ?

You: we can discuss this when I get home

Miles: K

You: k

It was a long ride home but eventually you accepted that Miles was gonna rip your head off and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

When you got home, he had three of the necklaces, two huge teddy bears, a bouquet of your favorite flowers and the newest pair of Jordan’s waiting for you:

“What’s all this?” You smiled and asked

“I told you I’ll pay for your shit, y/n” miles said, with a small smirk on his face

[11vr1]

Been Away ⭒ Miles Morales

Synopsis › You were tired of his secrets and lies, so you did the one thing you promised you’d never do and walked away. But Miles Morales wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Inspo › “Been Away” - Brent Faiyaz

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, Angst, the tiniest bit of fluff, pet names, spanish, a microscopic amount of manipulation, toxicity, going back to your ex, stalking, harassment, mentions being mugged, mentions being stabbed, mentions the police

P.S. › I do my best work when I’m sleep deprived.

P.S.S. › Reading comments and reblogs really make my day, even if you’re telling me my commas suck. Requests are also open.

Y/n pulled down the sleeves of her crocheted sweater as she stepped out of the bodega, white plastic bag of chips and candy in hand. The sun was close to setting behind skyscrapers and plunging New York City into its usual state of terror. It was dangerous to be alone on the streets, but Y/n figured she’d be fine walking a few blocks to her friend’s place. She pushed through sidewalk traffic, passing others who were just as eager to be safe in their homes.

Her phone chimed with a text.

Unknown: Turn left.

She paused, looking up to scan her surroundings. There was nothing strange or out of place. Just stores closing up for the night and people minding their own business. Despite how normal everything seemed to be, Y/n knew better. She spared a glance at the alley to her left, immediately deciding against it and kept walking.

Another chime. She ignored it and the next. Stopping wasn’t worth possibly ending up on the eleven o’clock news. At least that’s what she told herself. The less rational part of her mind had a thought. In some ways more terrifying than being mugged.

Tucked away in her pocket, her phone rang. This time she checked. Unknown. Y/n scoffed, rejecting the call.

Unknown: One more chance.

Unknown: Take a left.

Unknown: I won’t ask again.

Her phone rang once more. With a long, begrudging sigh Y/n swiped to accept. “I thought you weren’t going to ask again,” she said, her eyes darting warily to the darkening street.

“Make a left, Y/n,” a deep distorted voice ordered from the other line. Her heart dropped. Maybe the irrational part of her brain wasn’t as off kilter as she thought. The call hung up like she didn’t need anymore convincing.

The yawning mouth of an alley stared back at her. She took a calming breath, inhaling the morning rain before stepping away from any potential witnesses. Her footsteps echoed in the eerie silence of the alley. Her skin heated in either fear or anticipation, she didn’t know. “I don’t have all night,” she spoke into the open air. “I will leave.” Y/n attempted to hide the tremble in her throat.

Her ringtone was shrill in the alley. She jumped. The bright smiling photo of her friend illuminated her face. She did not hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“Thank god! You’re still alive. Are you close?”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, Ellie,” Y/n began to exit the alley. “The bodega line was long.” She rustled her haul of snacks.

“It’s getting dark. I can send my brother to meet you. Ya know he’s always had a bit of a thing for you and now that you’re single…” Ellie trailed off. Y/n could practically hear her smile.

She rolled her eyes, laughing nervously, “You don’t have to make him come get me. I’ll be—” She was cut off by her own scream ripping from her throat. A streak of darkness and neon flashed in front of her, swiping the phone from her hand. Her grocery bag tumbled to the concrete as she stumbled over her heels. Cold metal met her back. A well defined arm snaked around her waist, held her impossibly tight.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Her friend’s voice rose over the speakers.

The smooth phone screen pressed against her cheek. “Tell her you’re okay then hang up,” the same warped voice demanded in her ear.

Y/n felt her lips move before he ended the call. Some quick lie about a monstrous rat. Blood thrummed through her skull along with her ragged breaths.

“Let me go!” Y/n wrestling out of his grip with no resistance, finally turning around. She halted. Pixelated eyes narrowed at her. What had she been expecting? Was a mask better?

Getting slashed for the money in her wallet and being left for dead by a dumpster was starting to sound more appealing than her current situation.

Mechanic panels whirred and parted open. Rich, penetrating dark eyes took in every inch of the girl in front of him, peeling back layer after layer in that calculating glare Y/n knew all too well. “Hola, mami.”

She hoped to never hear that name fall from anyone’s lips. Much less his. Y/n allowed a selfish moment to let her gaze wander. His braids were fresh, obviously not her work. Fade clean. Jay’s untied. Bronze skin annoyingly flawless. He was the same, except for the faint bags decorating his eyes. His chuckle bounced off the brick walls, catching her. It was sobering.

“You have one minute, Morales. One minute before I run screaming and call the feds on your ass,” she crossed her arms.

“Morales?” Miles raised an eyebrow. “Damn. Is that what we doin’ now?”

“Fifty.”

He circled her like the predator he was, each footstep deafening. “You look good, ma. Where you goin’ so late? It’s not safe.”

“You know where! You’ve been following me, remember? How long have you been doing that for? Just another secret, huh?” Y/n was on the verge of yelling, her initial fear replaced by pure rage. “You’re not even going to deny it.”

Miles dared a step forward. Y/n took two back. “You’re afraid of me.” Her lack of an answer was a shattering confirmation.

“I’m afraid of what you do, Miles,” she motioned to his suit, the spray painted insignia physically painful to see on his chest. The Prowler. She would have never fathomed the possibility if she hadn’t seen him in action herself. “You’re a criminal. You steal. You’ve killed people,” she choked trying to swallow back tears.

He dragged a gloved hand down his face. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right! I don’t get it. You changed and I don’t understand why.” Her waterline welled. Three months of suppressed feelings threatened to rear their ugly heads when he was near. Because of him, of course.

It was ironic how much he made her feel, even now. Ellie, other friends, Y/n’s family never fully warmed up to Miles. He was unfeeling, nonchalant, closed off. They couldn’t see how a girl like her could fall for him and stay. At least that’s the promise she made.

“So did you. You walked away. Left me. What happened to our forever, Y/n?”

“You expected nothing to change? In what world would I not react or feel some typa way?” She tensed. Another wave of anger seared through her veins. How dare he turn this on her? “Oh wait,” her laugh was humorless. “I was never supposed to find out.”

“I have to do this. The world ain’t right and I need to protect the people I care about,” he placed a hand over his armor, over his chest. “I couldn’t do shit about my dad, but you…” He stalked closer. This time she didn’t back away.

Miles grasped her hand, placing it over his heart. She couldn’t face his intensity for too long, not without air. He wore the same musky cologne she gifted him for Christmas.“Mirame,” he tilted her delicate face towards him. “Mi corazón, I can keep you safe. You gotta let me. If something happened to you I don’t know what I would do.” His chiseled features twisted, barely able to utter the words. He finally closed the space between them, resting his forehead against hers.

“One minute,” Y/n whispered. It had been more than one minute.

Without separating, he slowly slipped her phone into her back pocket, letting his fingers linger by the waist of her jeans. “Call them. I’ll stay right here and you can end this. You’ll never have to see me again. Prometo, mi corazón.”

She should have listened when Ellie told her to stay away. Undeniably gorgeous, genius level intellect, sexy accent. There was always a catch, she said. She was right. But there was one drawback not even her best friend predicted.

Y/n pulled away. Suddenly the autumn air was too chilly through her sweater. She unlocked her phone. Typed 9-1-1. She looked up through her lashes at Miles as if he would melt into the shadows and escape. She didn’t expect sheer defeat to paint his face, unhidden behind his usual mask of indifference. Her thumb froze.

Miles Morales had Y/n entranced. He’d woven himself into her being, hollowed out a space in her soul just for him. Those titanium claws were in deep and she didn’t know if she had the strength to pry them out or wanted to.

Y/n pocketed her phone. She resigned to every emotion she harbored for the boy in front of her. She chose every wrong decision. “Go, Miles.”

His grin was smug. “Should I call you?”

“Don’t push it, Morales.” He draped his arms around her shoulders, dragged her into his warmth. “I’ll unblock you. Sound good?”

Miles angled his head. His smile stretched to his eyes, showing those rarely seen dimples. “Sí, mami. Whatever you want.”

[myrkky]

spiderdads as this meme 😊

[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

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. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

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

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place. 

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange. 

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown. 

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter. 

Or, at least, none that mattered. 

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do. 

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play. 

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift. 

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether. 

And Peter never even asked why. 

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?” 

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.” 

And how true that must have been. 

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too. 

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night? 

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.” 

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?! 

 “Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?” 

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.” 

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter. 

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?  

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.” 

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.” 

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter. 

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.” 

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used. 

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar. 

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite. 

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.” 

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now. 

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?” 

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.” 

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too. 

“Did he?” 

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.” 

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's. 

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him. 

“Well did he have anything useful?” 

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter. 

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups. 

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0. 

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration. 

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear. 

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?” 

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation. 

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.” 

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite. 

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?” 

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.” 

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?” 

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch. 

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?” 

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him. 

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.” 

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.” 

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.” 

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth. 

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.” 

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?” 

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?” 

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.” 

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.” 

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now! 

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?” 

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-” 

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!” 

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.” 

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief. 

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded. 

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere. 

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now. 

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down… 

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.” 

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell. 

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered. 

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night? 

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.” 

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips. 

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world. 

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all. 

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone. 

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting. 

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway. 

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!” 

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!” 

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else. 

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?” 

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?” 

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.” 

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse. 

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully. 

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter. 

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!” 

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.” 

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?” 

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task. 

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway. 

“Mj happened.” 

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?” 

“Yep. That’s the one.” 

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.” 

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.” 

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease. 

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth. 

You sucked in a breath. 

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.” 

His brow snapped up. “What changed?” 

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours. 

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth. 

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.” 

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?” 

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance. 

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.” 

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-” 

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.” 

“I’m not pretending-” 

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.” 

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.” 

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest. 

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.” 

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?” 

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

[kaylasficrecs]

miguel o'hara recs

it's always been you | imagine, flangst | @amhrosina

i need you to stay | imagine, flangst | @intoxicated-chan

because i love you! | imagine, flangst | @gay-dorito-dust

miguel o'hara x reader | drabble, fluff | @ichangedmycornyahhname

trivial | imagine, flangst | @spidcrhunni

nobody has to know | imagine, fluff | deactiated blog

el trato (the deal) | series | @messylustt

give me reasons we should be complete | imagine, flangst | @intoxicated-chan

teasing miguel | drabble, fluff | @stellaaarree

show me where it hurts | two shot, flangst | @loganlermanstanaccount

purr | drabble, fluff | @milequaritchsslut

liability | imagine, flangst | @crescentbelle

bite | drabble, fluff | @multi-fandom-imagine

what's in between | two shot, fluff | @ghost-with-a-teacup

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known | series | @angel-eyes05

husband!miguel | drabble, smut | @miguelsfangs

snow spider | one shot, fluff | @ichorai

college roommate!miguel | au, one shot, fluff, smut | @loganlermanstanaccount

sweet and soft aftercare | imagine, fluff, smut | @little-miss-dilf-lover

happy wife, happy life | imagine, fluff | @msgorillagripcoochie

after missions | imagine, fluff | @blackbat05

too fast | two shot, angst | @ronwestbreeze (this is the second part)

waking up | drabble, fluff | @stellaaarree

messy eater | drabble, smut | @miguelsfangs

a second chance | one shot, flangst | @fauustic

until i found you | imagine, flangst | @lymmsweb

my light | drabble, flangst (more fluff ) | @multi-fandom-imagine

cuddling | drabble, fluff | @livelaughloak

enchanted | one shot, flangst | @autumnalbee

tight grip, broken dam | imagine, flangst | @flowerpotmage

mid night | imagine, flangst (more fluffy) | @eyelessfaces

orange, red and blue | imagine, flangst (heavy angst) | @ghost-with-a-teacup

when she brings him lunch | imagine, fluff | @kumori-suwan

i can't won't fight you | imagine, flangst | @operaphantomreader

hanging around | drabble, fluff | @ghost-with-a-teacup

w/ an innocent s/o | headcanon, fluff | @sweet-as-an-angel

i'm not cute | imagine, fluff | @sunflowersteves

new rules | one shot, flangst | @mandosaur

to a heart's content | au, headcanon, fluff | @cheralith

call | imagine, fluff | @cosmosis

miguel in love | one shot, fluff, smut | @moonlesslights

work mom | imagine, fluff | @miguelz

can't sleep | imagine, fluff | @cosmosis

forgive me | two shot, flangst | @lo-vearchive

full stomachs, fuller hearts | imagine, fluff | @prinzevyn

when he accidentally scares you | headcanon, flangst | @cyberstrm

te adoro | drabble, fluff (tiny angst) | @junewritesstuff

stay away from him | imagine, fluff | @queen-of-fanfics

warmth | imagine, fluff | @qaxqxd

coffee | two shot, fluff | @titanic-angel

[le-regrems]

Hobie Brown helping Miles and seeing how corrupted spider force is, is my religion.

[eternalsams]

Irresistible ➻ Miguel O'Hara

pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Black Cat (fem)!reader

warning/content: violence, so much sexual tension, swearing, actual plot, mention of nudity, no mention of y/n (gets called Kitty a couple of times), some heavy make out sess

summary: Miguel is sent in your world where there is no Spider-Hero to help him, you're the only person he knows there and good thing for him, you can help him. Bad thing for him, you won't stop taunting him.

words count: 3.7k

a/n: English isn't my first language, so please take that into your consideration

"We don't need her, Lyla." Miguel groans at her as he walks through the lobby. "No, we don't. But you do." Lyla pops up on Miguel's shoulder with a grin. "Come on, she'll be of a great help, she knows her world better than anyone else here. Better than you." The little lady has a point, he had to admit it. He only visited a couple of times but didn't stay long enough to know his way into the thousands of cities. The only problem is that you were a pain in the ass for Miguel. Even though you were doing your job pretty fine, you were always torturing him with your constent teasing and flirting. It was just in your nature to annoy him. As another door opens before him, Miguel notices Hobie lying on a wooden box, fidgeting with his guitar. "Why don't we send Hobie there? I don't wanna see her and I'm pretty sure they would make a good pair." He grumbled before tapping on a screen for the last details. Lyla pops back up in front of him and crosses her little arms on her chest. "Because, you and I both know that they would make a too good pair. You can still focus when you're around her and you can discipline her as well." She chuckles, her laugh echoing in the lobby. "Is this about your kitty cat again?" Hobie chuckles as he tilts his head back and looks at his boss upside down. "Don't call her that." Miguel growls before setting the right coordinates on his watch and opening a portal. He puts his mask on and turns to Lyla. "You coming with me?" He asks her and she steps back. "Nah, I'm good here. Have fun with her!" She wiggles her little fingers in his direction before disappearing. Miguel sighs and steps through the portal, immediately feeling the rain pouring down on him. "Great..." He sighs and closes the portal behind him before jumping off the rooftop into a dark alley. He checks if anybody saw him and retracts his mask before changing into more casual clothes. That means old sweat pants, a white t-shirt and a sweater. He pulls the hoodie to cover his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets before walking down the streets. The neon lights lighting the dark streets and leading him to the place he knew you'd be.

When he finally recognizes your place he walks up the couple steps of your porch and hesitates knocking on your door. He knew how much you'd tease him for coming for your help. But when he checks his watch and sees the little time before the anomaly in this world would happen, it pushes him to knock on the door. He takes a few steps back and sinks back his hand into his sweater pocket. The door opens and he immediately regrets coming to you when he sees your smirk. "Well, well, well... Spidey." You lean on your door and run a hand in your white hair before crossing your arms on your chest. He says nothing, he doesn't need to, you already know why he's here. But you still ask. "Why can i do to please you?" He visibly grimaces at your choice of words and looks away. "I need your help..." He whispers under his breath. You perfectly hear him but that wouldn't be fun for you. "What was that? I can't hear you with the rain." You say as you cup your ear and lean a bit forward. He groans and looks back at you. "I need your help." He says more distinctively. You grin and steps back into your house. "Come in, then." You wait for him to pass the door and close it behind you. "I don't have the time for your little games." He says as he inspects his surroundings, making sure you won't trap him one way or another. He was used to it by now. "I know. But I'm pretty sure I can't really fight bad guys like this." You point to yourself and he seems to finally notice how you're dressed. Or how undressed you are. You're only wearing some loose shorts and a black tank top. And he didn't need to stand closer to see you didn't wear anything underneath. He quickly looks away as you make your way to your room to change into your suit. He uses this alone time to put back on his spider-suit and when he glances over at your room, he notices you left your door slightly open. On purpose. He can see you taking off your top and revealing your toned back, he could almost see the curve of your breast if you turned slightly to your right. He quickly looks away and clears his throat, checking for the umpteenth time his watch. "We don't have much time." He calls for you and you step out of your room, your combat goggles in hand. You look at him up and down, visibly satisfied by the sight in front of you. "Wow, looking good, Spidey! Have you been working out since the last time I saw you?" You run your fingers along his broad shoulders and down his firm chest. "Not your business. Can we focus on the mission?" You let out a faux-sigh and sit down on the table, rubbing purposely your foot along his thigh. He stares at you and looks down at your foot touching him. "Yes? Am I distracting you?" You ask with that oh so annoying smirk that get on his nerves. He swats your foot away with a grunt and makes appear a screen in front of you from his watch. "Micheal Morbius from Earth-386 decided to get too close to the multiverse doors and spread chaos around him." He informs you. "Any victim yet?" You ask, now focused on the mission. "No, only calls and damages. But I've already encountered one of them. They don't wait too long before shedding blood."

"Alright, where do you think he is now? And the most important question is, why do you need me with this? If it's only Morbius, you can take care of him by yourself. Hobie told me you've dealt with him before and it went great." You frown and jumps down from the table, looking around your living room to find something to tie up your hair. "How do you know Hobie?" He frowns and turns to you. "Wouldn't you like to know, Handsome..." You glance at him and smirk, tying up your hair and maintaining eye contact with him. Miguel bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cursing and looks away. "Morbius is mostly looking to feed off someone so maybe somewhere with some crowd where he wouldn't be too suspicious. Do you have any idea?" He eventually asks you. "Oh, so that's why you need me. You're like a lost puppy here." You laugh and he stares at you, telling you silently to focus back on the mission. "I have an idea where he might be, but you won't like it." You shrug and grab your keys before dropping them in a little pocket on the inside of your suit. Miguel raise an eyebrow at the action but doesn't say anything. "As much as I like seeing you in that suit, you'll need casual clothes for where we're going. "I already have casual clothes." You look at the pile of clothes he took off a little earlier and look back at him. "My grandma could wear this, this is not casual. Wait here..." You say as you walk back to your room. Miguel sighs and checks another time his watch, seeing the anomaly would soon happen if you didn't hurry up. You come back with a pair of jeans way too big for you and toss it at him before giving him a button down shirt. "Wear this. I'll wear something similar. We won't be recognized." Just as he was about to ask you something, you grab another pair of jeans and put them on over your suit. "Won't be very comfortable but if we need to change quickly, it's better." You grab a shirt and put it on, Miguel still staring at you. "Come on, Handsome! We don't have whatever you're doing." You grin and tap gently on his chest as he puts on his pants. You hear him groan and walk to the door, Miguel on your tracks, buttoning up his shirt. "You look great, honey." You smirk at him as you straighten his collar. "Where did you get those clothes?" He asks you, readjusting himself in the tight pants. "You don't wanna know." You smile up at him and pat his cheek before he fakes a smile when he opens the door to let you out first. "If you needed an excuse to look at my ass, that's a terrible one" You chuckle and pull you fur hood over your head. "So... Where to?" Miguel asks as he closes your door behind him and walks down the steps. You wrap your arm around his and start walking down the street. "I hope you don't have sensitive ears, Spidey. 'Cause you're about to hear some loud music." You look up at him and intertwine your fingers with his.

Miguel winces at the loud music around him, and just like you said, he didn't like it. He looks at you ordering a drink and you turn to him. "I guess you didn't bring your wallet with you. You want something to drink?" You ask him, leaning to his ear so he could hear you. To be honest, he could hear you even if you were standing at the other end of the club if he wanted but you wanted to be that close to him and he hated it. He doesn't respond and just stares at you. You turn back to the bartender and smile at him. "He'll take a water. Thanks." You slide a ten dollars bill on the counter and wink at the guy before turning back to Miguel. "We're supposed to stop Morbius, not get drunk." He scolds you, grabbing you by the arm. "I know, I know. Will you please let me go, people look at us strange." You grit through your teeth, that was the only thing you didn't like about him. He had a stick up his ass. He complies and grabs the glass of water the bartender hands him. You slightly smirk when he empties the glass in one go and sets it back down on the counter before grabbing your wrist and leading you over where the people where dancing. "You wanna dance, Spidey?" You tease him with a chuckle. "No." He simply says and keeps walking to the private tables in the back of the club. You notice a security guy looking at you weird and you trip purposely, holding yourself on Miguel's shoulders and giggling. He turns back at you and frowns, you only had one drink and he made sure it wasn't that strong, there was no way you could be drunk. He grabs you by the waist and makes you straighten up, looking at you in the eyes. "What's wrong?" He asks, worry painted over his face. You smirk a bit and his concern drops immediately. "I'm great, we just have to act normal." You explain but don't let go of his shoulders, holding him even closer. "And acting drunk is normal to you?" He raises an eyebrow. "In a club? Yeah, definitely. Come on, Handsome, take a seat." You pats his cheek because you know how much he hates it and push him a bit. "Wha-" He can't ask you anything and end up sitting down on a couch arm rest, you on his lap. "What are you doing?" He asks through gritted teeth. "Fading in." You smile and brush a few locks away from his face to look into his red eyes. "Use that Spidey sense of yours and find that vamp, will ya?" He clears his throat and wraps awkwardly his arms around you, closing his eyes and trying to focus on anything but the loud music and your ass rubbing on his crotch. He quickly re-opens his eyes and grabs your hand before leading you towards a table where a single guy was accompanied by three women. You tap Miguel's chest, making him understand you got this. You approach the table and untie your hair. "Hi. Is this the party I've been hearing about?" You ask innocently and you lock eyes with the guy. He stands up and you get a proper look at him. He's got long black hair, you can't really see his eyes but can definitely notice how dark they are. He's tall and skinny, but not the attractive way. "You're at the right place, sweetie." He smiles at you and you notice how chapped his lips are. He extends his hand to you and you take it before quickly pulling on it and punching him in the face.

The girls at the table scream and leave but you don't let go of Morbius's hand, not wanting to let him run away. Miguel is quick to join you and as he was about to yell at you for being so reckless, Morbius pulls on your hand, making you trip and you eventually drops his hand to roll on the floor and catch yourself up. You groan and take off your shirt before putting on your mask and shooting your grappling hook to the ceiling. You swing back to Morbius while Miguel make everyone leave the club. Your feet collide violently with the vampire's head and when you look back at Miguel, he's ripping off the shirt you gave him, revealing his spider-suit. He doesn't even care about his mask and stay exposed. He shoots his web to trap Morbius and struggles to keep him still. You grab a little bottle on your belt and remove the pin before jumping towards Miguel and tackling him behind one of the couch. The gas bomb you just set off explodes and you hear Morbius cough a little before he groans. "Fuck! I thought that would stop him." You grumble and roll off of Miguel before standing up. You look at your co-worker and notice his fangs. You've only seen them once and when you asked him about them, he ignored you. So you never asked again. You had your sensitive subjects and he had his. Miguel growls and jumps at Morbius before giving him a punch in the face and sliding his talons over the vampire's shoulder. You take advantage of his weakness to run behind him and wrap your arm around his neck, locking him against you. He struggles in your arms and Miguel approaches. "Move your arm." He says in a deep voice, making you comply. "He grabs Morbius by his hair, making him wince and lean over to his neck before sinking his fangs into his skin. You grimace slightly and you feel Morbius go limp in your arms. Miguel leans back and you look at him, curious. "What did you do to him? Did you kill him?" You let the vampire fall on the floor and notice his still open eyes. "Ew, dude, you're fugly." Your comment makes Miguel slightly smile before he quickly get back serious. "I paralyzed him." He simply says before tapping on his watch. A portal opens before your eyes and your lips part in awe. You knew where he came from but you've never seen where he came from. Miguel leans down and picks up the limp Morbius before throwing him over him shoulder. He was about to step into the portal before he stops and turns back to you. "You wanna come check it out?" He asks and you try to hide your excitement. "After you, I wanna check you out when you walk in front of me." You say and he chuckle, making you smile.

He steps into the portal and gets back into the lobby where Hobie is still playing with his guitar. "Don't you have something better to do?" He asks the younger man as he drops Morbius on the ground. "Oh, you're not dead. How did it go with your kitty cat?" Hobie asks, rolling down to stand up as he slides his guitar in his back. "Hello!" Your voice echoes in the lobby as you step through the portal before it closes and Hobie smirks. "I see it went well since we don't usually accept cats here." He chuckles and walks to you before shaking your hand. "Good to see you, Kitty." You smile at him and look around you, admiring the place Miguel founded all these years ago. "Welcome back!" Lyla pops up in front of Miguel and cocks her head to the side to glance at you. "I see the mission went well." She smiles at him. "It did? And ask Ben to take Morbius back to his world and make sure he stays there." He orders and Lyla nods before disappearing. Miguel turns back at you and quickly glance at Hobie. "I still don't know where you know him from and I'm not sure I wanna know." He pinches the bridge of his nose before he grabs something on a shelf and launches it at you. "Put this on or you won't feel good for long." You look down at the bracelets in your hands and put it on without asking any question. "Alright, come with me now." He leaves the lobby and steps into an elevator. You follow him and the whole way up is spent in complete silence. Neither of you dare to speak. Until you open your mouth. "We make a good team." You slightly smirk as you glance at him. "We do." He simply responds. "We should work together more often." You nudge him with your shoulder. "I don't think that's a good idea, actually." You roll your eyes out, the stick up his ass is back and went even deeper. "You're right, there's some things I do better alone." You look right in front of you and you can see from the corner of your eyes Miguel looking at you but not saying anything. "Some things?" He asks, raising his eyebrows. You hum in response and smirk at him. "Some things." You confirm. You hear him quietly chuckle and he shakes his head. "You're really something else." He murmurs under his breath. "Well, I hope I am. You spend your days with different versions of you, I do hope I'm different form you guys." Your fingers start grazing his and he looks down at your hand before looking back up at you. "Don't." You turn to him and take a step closer. "Why?" Your fingers play with the hem of his suit at his neck. You see his Adam's apple slightly bob and a smile stretches your lips. "Just don't." He repeats. You nod but don't step back.

"Kitty..." He says as a warning. "You've never called me that before." You cock your head to the side and play with his fingers. "Kitty." He says more sternly. "Spidey." You respond and that's the final stroke. He grabs you by the neck and smashes his lips on yours, taking you by surprise. You can feel his fangs nibble at your bottom lip and a mix of a grunt and a moan escapes you. He pushes you against the glass behind you and runs his hands along your body. That body that kept teasing him and he couldn't forget for years. He really did try to control himself as long as he could but you made it so hard for him to focus on the mission when you're constantly teasing him. He feels your fingers runs through his locks and tug at his hair, keeping him close to you. His tongue lick across your lips and you part them, finally tasting him after all those years. And does he taste good! One of your hands runs down his neck and holds onto his shoulder, trying to get him closer. His hands leave your face and go straight to your ass, kneading at the flesh. Your ass was just like he imagined it, you worked hard for your body to look like that and he wanted to feel every defined muscles under his eager fingers. He grabs you behind the knees and taps the back of your thighs. "Jump." He says between kisses and you comply, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your back against the glass wall of the elevator and your chest flush against Miguel's. You could feel all of him against all of you and it was intoxicating. The singular ding of the elevator makes Miguel drop you back on the floor and he rests his forehead against yours, panting. His red eyes looking directly into yours. Your heart beating so fast and hard against your chest it hurts. The doors open and Miguel's body mostly hides yours, so the person stepping in knows he's not alone but can't recognize you. "Having some good company there?" Miguel recognizes Ben's voice and he can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I don't remember asking you anything." Ben's smirk drops and he clears his throat. "Lyla told me about Morbius, where is he?" He asks. "In the lobby." Miguel responds, still looking deeply into yours eyes and hiding you from the other Spider-Man in the elevator. You can't help but smile and you try to contain it by biting down on your lip. Miguel runs his tongue over his teeth to hide his smile too and drops his head on yours, his breathing finally steady. He looks back up at you and opens his mouth, looking for the right words. "We'll talk." He mouths to you and you nod, grabbing a handful of his suit and kissing him deeply before you heard another ding from the elevator. The doors open and you slip out of there, trying not to make any eye contact with Ben. "Was that that cat girl Hobie talks about?" The other Spider-Man can't help himself but ask his boss. Which earns him a glare from Miguel. "Take care of Morbius." He says before following you.

[sunnysideprincess]

No spiderchild is safe from adoption

[astroboots]

EVERY YOU EVERY ME: Issue #1

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You are falling from the 44th floor of the Chrysler building when you're saved by the unfriendly neighborhood Spider-man: Miguel O'Hara.

Word count: 930 words.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

[Next Issue]

You are falling from the 44th floor of the Chrysler building towards certain death. 

Life doesn't flash before your eyes. Maybe your life was too unremarkable to have stand out moments worth a replay. 

A run of the mill childhood. An unsatisfactory office job. Single, no kids, just a toxic relationship with your phone and a tiktok addiction. It's no surprise there is no reel of Kodak moments as the brick cladding whizzes you by.  

The only image in your head is a blur of shiny red and blue spandex, shoving into your side that split second before you were flung out of the skyscraper. 

The wind rushes past you and into your eyes. Arms sprawling to your side, instinctively trying but failing to clutch to anything solid.

You try not to think about how much it's going to hurt when your skull hits the pavement. Instead you think about how statistically, every year in New York alone an average of 3,000 people either die or is so gravely injured that they cannot rejoin the workforce due to Supes incidents. Something you learned on your first day as an insurance underwriter. 

And now here you are, falling through the sky, about to become a statistic. Head first like you are diving into a swimming pool from a trampoline. Except instead of water it is going to be the hard, punishing concrete of New York. 

Fuck. You are going to die. 

This can't be the end. You've barely lived. 

The wind beats against your face, the grey concrete grows wider and nearer, eating into the rest. You're not ready. 

You don't want to die. 

Oh god, you don't want to die yet.

You want to live. You want to live. You want to live. You want to-- 

Everything slows to a halt like you've stepped on the break pedals in a car and the view from the windows no longer speeds past you. For a moment you think it must be a trick of your mind, trying to spare you from the pain. 

Then everything goes in reverse, pulled back into the air as the grey concrete recedes again. Instead of falling it feels like you are flying. In your vision grey concrete is replaced by red and blue. 

You don't know what's happening but a firm solid weight wraps around your torso that reminds you of an embrace. 

"I got you," an unfamiliar voice tells you. You reach out and instead of empty air, the welcomed warmth of the man's broad shoulders and firm chest meets your touch. 

"You're safe," he continues, reassuringly. His voice is calm and deep and even though you don't know this man, haven't even seen his face, you trust him. 

You're saved. 

The two of you descend. Not falling. It's controlled, like you're gently floating downwards and this time without the threat of impending death looming by your feet, you have a moment to take in your surroundings, of New York spread out below you.

Dots of people and cars are gathered in awed commotion. They are pointing up while you slowly descend in the air. When the two of you land on the ground, it's so soft you don't even feel it until he sets you down on your tippy toes. 

He's tall. Now that you're standing on your feet the height difference is inescapable. His body frame towers you and practically blocks out the sun. 

He's clad in dark-blue spandex from head to toe, not an inch of skin bared. There's an emblem of a red and angry looking death-metal spider etched on his chest, and an outline of the same red where his eyes are supposed to be. 

You've just been saved by a superhero.

"Tha-thank you," you manage to stutter out. 

He lets you go, and doesn't say anything. Doesn't acknowledge your gratitude. Even though you can't see his eyes, you can sense him staring at you. 

Did you do something wrong?

It's your first bona fide superhero experience. You don't know what's customary here. Why is he not speaking to you? Why is he just standing there like he's waiting for something. Are you supposed to tip him or something? 

Out of nowhere, his hands fling out to grip at your shoulders. You barely have the time to wince, because he's already leaning closer. His masked face is so close that his nose is almost touching yours. Close enough that he'd barely need to tilt to kiss you. 

"Uhm... wait I-- " 

The mask disintegrates, tanned skin eating into the red and blue material as it reveals his face, and you find his dark eyes staring down at you like he's seen a ghost.  

Wait wait! Do Superheroes do this? Can they reveal their face? Aren't they supposed to keep their identities secret. 

You blink up at him dumbfounded. 

He's handsome. A crown of cotton-soft curls that cascades over his forehead. Cheeks so sharp, you wonder if he uses them as weapons to defeat whatever villain of the week he faces. 

He's very handsome. But something is wrong here. There's no smile on his face. He's glaring down at you, his mouth twisted into a snarl as if the sight of you turns his stomach. 

"Shit," he growls. "This was a mistake." 

You're confused. The gentleness in his voice when he saved you mid-air has been replaced by a sneer. "I should have let you fall." 

Without another word, he turns away from you. The mask materializes out of thin air to cover his face. He swoops into the air and then he's gone. 

~ Next Issue

Dedications & Credit: Guess who finally had a chance to see the new Spiderman!!!!!!! Dedicated to my poor beloved clown sister @thirstworldproblemss who has been kept up three nights in a row listening to me screech about this movie and then I held her hostage as we outlined this story together.

Without her, writing would never be as fun as it is. I am so grateful to have her as a friend, a confidant and hostage victim.

I don't have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[duckdachi]

Imagined getting bullied by your own virtual assistant lol

[multifariousqueer]

Earth 42 Miles Headcannons

A/n: y’all pls request some more miles 42 fics PLEASE I BEG

Warnings: angst, fluff, kinda toxic behavior( I don’t condone), nicknames

Kinda toxic but in a good way ngl

If you can braid, you braid his hair for him

Uncle Aaron respects you

Spoils you if he gets extra money from his job

You don’t know what he does but Yk he’s always tired and irritable

“Here’s $200. Imma be gone for a while Mami so take care of my mom and take care of yourself, okay?”

“Okay, papi”

Will go nuts if you call him Papi Fr

Loves you and you’re his soft spot but sometimes he can be harsh on you

Matching Jordan’s(this is also true for normal Miles)

Hates physical affection but likes words of affirmation

He loves it when you rely on him, it makes him feel big

Will pay for anything you need. Shoes? He’s got them coming. Clothes? It’s on your doorstep. Stuffed animals? It’s in his hand as he’s getting ready to give it to you

Short small kisses>>>>>

“Te amo, Mami. Cuídate” “SÍ Papi”

You saw him come home with gashes and blood on his clothes once and you were concerned but he brushed past it

You stopped bringing stuff like that up bc you know he will probably get upset:

“What’s going on, Miles?”

“Nothing, Y/n.”

“Ik something’s up so what is it?”

“Worry abt yourself , y/n. Besides, I didn’t see you complaining when I put those $1000 shoes on your feet.”

He had a point

He’s as stoic as a statue. You never know how he’s feeling fr

He makes you look him in the eye when you speak to him

Grabs your chin 😍🤭😵‍💫

Will grab your face and stares in your eyes. He loves looking at your eyes

Kisses you on the temple a lot but not afraid to kiss your lips

Can sometimes be neglectful but doesn’t mean it

overall loves you but is nonchalant asf

[madlittlecriminal]

Helllo sweetheart! I was randomly thinking about slow sex with Miguel with the !Cradle Sex Position! His eye contact kink approves 😂

Keep Them Open ⥓ Miguel O'Hara × Female!Reader

it definitely does! but it's funny you mention this because i was actually thinking about writing something with slow sex with him, but i didn't know how i wanted it to go, so you came at an amazing time, anon!

Warnings: smut, mention of cockwarming, unprotected p in v, eye contact, praise, breeding kink

"Mi nena preciosa," (My precious girl.) Miguel mumbled against your lips before resting his hands on your lower back. You moaned softly as you rest your forehead against his. It was one of those days were Miguel wanted to hold you while being inside of you, but neither of you could stay still, so here you were, rocking your hips against his slowly. Miguel needed you, but he wanted slow sex.

You tangled your fingers in his hair before throwing your head back in pleasure before shutting your eyes. Miguel grabbed your chin softly. "No mi vida. Don't close your eyes." (No, my life.) You whimper softly as you opened your eyes, letting them meet his hooded ones. He smirks slightly. "Good girl." You bite your lip as he rests a hand on your cheek, caressing it softly. "God, you're so beautiful, y'know that? Mirándome con esos ojitos de amor y placer." (Looking at me with those eyes of love and pleasure.) You continued to grind on his cock, making him groan from your wetness and warmth.

"Asi, mi reina. Tan bonita y tan buena." (Like that, my queen. So beautiful and so good.) "Miggy..." he runs his thumb across your bottom lip with a smirk, his fangs poking out slightly. "Te amo, mi reina." (I love you, my queen.) You rock your hips back and forth, moaning softly. "I love you too, handsome. I love you so much." Your eyes were still on his, making him bite his lip. "That's it, baby. Keep your eyes on me." You nodded, not looking away from him. He reached down and rubbed your thighs. "Want me to cum inside you, baby? Huh?"

You tugged his hair softly while panting slightly. "Yes, please." He nodded before letting one hand reach up your thigh again and to your cunt, rubbing your clit softly. "I want you to cum first, baby. Okay? Think you can that for me?" You gasp, your head wanting to fall to his shoulder, but he quickly reached up with his other hand, holding your head up so you can keep looking at him. "Eyes on me, preciosa." You kept your eyes on him, gripping his shoulders while his fingers continued to rub your clit. "Oh god," he chuckled softly. "You close?" You nod and he plants a kiss on your lips. "Cum for me, mi amor." (My love.) Your nails began digging into his shoulder blades as you cried in pleasure, coming on his cock. Shortly after, Miguel came inside you with a groan.

You both began catching your breaths as he kept you on top of him. "You're staying here." You giggle. "If you insist."

[myrkky]

Spiderdads aka the trash panda and thot

[the-real-mj]

*texting*

Peter : HI

Mj : hey

Peter: HOW ARE YOU

Mj: good, but why are you texting in capital?

Peter: YOU SAID THAT YOU HATE SMALL TALK SO I MADE IT BIG JUST FOR YOU

Peter: MJ?

Peter: WHY AREN'T YOU REPLYING

Mj: Peter, this is mj's mom, mj is currently crying, i think you broke her