#the spider was nice while it lasted /silly

[doctorsiren]

can we get a laios of the dungeon meshi variety 🥺 with or without a spider

he got hungy

[fraugwinska]

Since your requests are open… can I request Alastor taking care of his sick wife? The crew noticed their mia and Alastor slinks away to their hotel room to find them dying (metaphorically) in their nest of blankets?

Thank you ;—; I love your writing sm! ฅ(•ㅅ•)ฅ

Whew - that was a first for me :D Switching it up for a little Alastor POV ;> I hope you like it, lovely Anon! (P.S. - The song mentioned is 'Unforgettable' by Nat King Cole)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

In Sickness and in Health

Alastor's day couldn't get better – adding another, large territory to his nicely growing collection, visiting his dear friend Rosie along the way, and now returning to his diddy hotel, full of entertainment, and with his lovely wife waiting for his return: He was in a rightfully jolly mood.

He'd left so early in the morning, letting his love sleep in deep, heavy breaths, he was wondering what she had been up to this day? On the way back, he stopped by the florist, careful not to touch the delicate, burgundy blossoms of the chrysanthemums, her favourites.

He entered the hotel to find the residents deeply engaged in another of the princess's silly bonding activities – a game of charades, as it seemed. Alastor watched them with curiosity as Angel Dust gestured wildly, while the others screamed in chaos, throwing guesses his way.

„Fuck, man, come on! I'm making it OBVIOUS here!“, Angel moaned, throwing his hands frustrated into the air.

„The hell you are – you look like you're hurlin' yo' last drink like a garden sprinkler.“, Husk replies dryly, rubbing his temples, while the girls just look confused.

„It's fucking MOTORBOATING, jesus christ on a cracker!“

The group groans, exept for Vaggie, who runs over to him and grabs the card the flamboyant spider waves around.

„It's just 'Motorboat', you idiot.“ „Potayto, Potahto.“

Alastor, having heard enough of that nonsense, closed the entrance noisily. Charlies head whipped around to see him.

„Oh, hey Alastor, you're back early.“, she chirped, ignoring the still arguing group behind her. Alastor walked over and smiled down at her. „Business went better than I expected, dear. And you all are as... aspiring as ever, I see?“ He let his gaze fall back to the group, counting – five heads. Not six. „Would you happen to know where my darling doe is?“

Charlie blinked. „Umm.“, she turned to look at the group, as if she expected her to be there. Alastors eyes narrowed as the princess asked timidly if anyone had seen her.

„Nope, not me.“ „Didn't turn up on the bar, either.“ „She missed breakfast, too“ Alastor huffed, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach at the blatant negligence of his companions. He left Charlie and the others standing without a word, looking rightfully guilty and shouting apologies at his back. He made a mental note to plan an appropriate response to this mishap, and fastened his steps to his suite.

He knocked on the door, softly. No response. He listened intensely. „My love, are you in there?“ A quiet groan, muffled through thick wood and creaking walls, barely audible.

He opened the door his eyes searching through the dimly lit room - the curtains of the windows were still closed, just like he left them this morning.

„Alastor?“, he heard your voice, weak and tired, from inside the pile of cushions, pillows and blankets piled up on the shared bed.

He quickly set the flowers down on the bureau before he peeled layers of fabric off the built fort to reveal his precious doe – face reddened, hair damp with sweat and deep, panting in straint breaths. Her eyes opened slowly, they were watery and dull.

„Hello...“, she said, a small smile on her dried lips. „Hello, my love.“, he answered, brushing her hair out her face with timid fingers – when they touched her forehead, it was burning hot. Alastor frowned.

„You are sick, my doe....“ She hummed in response. A shiver made her pull the blankets around her closer to her. „I think I'm dying again.“ Alastor chuckled softly, cupping her cheek - heat poured from her scorching skin into his cold palms.

„Always so dramatic. No love, you're certainly not dying. Boiling yourself, maybe. You have a raging fever, sweet thing.“

„Potayto, Potahto...“, she murmured. Alastor scrunched his nose – Angel Dust certainly had a bad influence on his wife.

„Now, now, no reason to call for the mortician, love. Let's get you out of these dampened clothes for a start, shall we?“

She whined from the coldness he exposed her to, grabbing his arms as he pulled her out of the many layers of fabric and peeled the sweat-drenched clothes from her burning body. Her usually smooth and tender skin was colored in angered flushes of read, mimicking the blazing temperature she radiated. While he worked on getting her in fresh, clean pajamas, he murmured soft reassurances and sweet words of comfort to her.

Alastor knew she hated the feeling of helplessness a sickness brought with it. Her demise had been sudden, painful and most importantly lonely, having no one by her side while the disease had eaten her alive.

He placed her back into bed, a snap of his fingers had disassembled the abhorrent nest she had built, linens clean, soft and dry. She whimpered when he opened the windows to let some fresh air into the room, but sighed in sweet relief when the cold cloth he conjured for her cooled her forehead.

“Can you play something for me?”, she whispered after he had convinced her to drink some water, her lids heavy and almost out of consciousness.

Alastor brushed her cheeks tenderly.

“Of course my treasured girl.”

He pulled the chair from his bureau next to the bed, settling down with her hand in his. He chose the song carefully – it was the one she and him first danced to, when he and her were two singulars still, instead of one plural.

The soft tunes of the celeste and piano drove the dreadful, deafening silence out of the room, and when Nat King Coles voice started to serenade, her face relaxed into a serene smile, breaths flattening into calm draws of air.

Alastor watched his wife drift into healing slumber, her skin color already fading into her more normal shade. Relieved, he stroked his thumb delicately over her fingers, still safely wound around his. Yes. Alastor knew she hated the helplessness a sickness brought with it. But at least, this time, he could be there to guide her through it.

[luveline]

maybe miguel with shy spider girl who never holds eye contact with him and he calls her to is office alone for info and she’s just a mess? idk 😭😭

“Miguel wants to see you.” 

You smile at Peter B. Parker. It is not a natural nor authentic smile. “Sorry,” you say, “what?” 

“Miguel, the big guy! He wants to see you. You reported that weird bubble on 265, right?” Peter’s chewing on gum obnoxiously, seemingly unwise to your panic. Mayday giggles in his arms. “He wants your opinion.” 

“I've never spoken to him.” 

Peter laughs jovially as Mayday climbs up his front and almost topples down the back of him. “He's a nice guy, you'll like him. Hey, you want some gum?” 

You take a stick of gum but don't chew it, the strip of Juicy Fruit powdering your fingers as you ride the elevator up to Miguel's laboratory. You barely know where it is, only that it's in a general direction of which you've never walked in. You haunt the dorms and the library rather than the workshops, content in your quiet life (as quiet as it can be, considering). Every step you take down the red lit hall to his lab is brimming with the want to turn back. 

There's a platform set on the floor decorated by computers. You can't tell what's holographic and what's physical, but Miguel O'Hara is undeniably solid. His shoulders alone look thick as a tree trunk where he stands in the midst of it all. 

You know it will be less painful to just… say hello. You put your Juicy Fruit in your pocket and clear your throat quietly. 

“Mr. O'Hara?” 

He waves his hand at you without looking. “Miguel is better. Come here.” 

You struggle up onto his raised laboratory. Would it have hurt to build a step? 

“Spider-Girl from earth 1421. Yes?” 

“Y/N,” you say. “Yeah, that's me.” 

He looks up at that, like your name is a curse word, or a surprise. You meet his eyes for as long as you're able to before your gaze crawls to his chest. 

“And you saw the distension on 265?” 

“Distension… um, you mean when the air looked like it was bubbling?” 

“What were you doing when it started? Just give me a run down.” 

You clasp your hands together tightly. You feel silly in your suit because somebody convinced you that it was okay to wear stuff on top, so now you're in this big silly hoodie while Miguel stands waiting in his officials. You'd always thought it was nanotechnology, but closer it seems more like a fabric with chameleon technology, or—

“What were you doing when it started?” he asks again, softer now. “You're not in trouble, I just need to get a sense of what happened.”  

“I know, I– we were there to– to–” You wince. “To capture an anomaly, Doc Ock 83.” Your hands start to tremble, you're so nervous. “But we had a hard time finding him, he wasn't doing much, and the– bubble started not long after getting there.” 

“Was it a precursor to anything? Did something significant happen after it began?” 

“Um–” You can't think. What happened? You'd been standing on the street between the last reported sighting of the anomaly with your small team. You're a competent bunch but you only ever get called in for the weak guys, and you weren't sure what to do when things got weird. “I'm sorry, I don't know.” You peek at him, worried he's going to snap at you. 

“Just take some time to think about it.” 

He smiles —Miguel smiles at you, a juxtaposition to every rumour you've ever heard about him— and takes a step toward you, gesturing at your hoodie. You freeze up, worse when his fingertips point at the hem of it. 

“Do you have your drone?” 

You flush a hundred degrees hot and pull your hoodie up your chest to click the panel of your drone where it dents over your heart. It breaks free, flying up into the air above your head on automatic. Miguel grabs it out of the air and takes it over to his computer, where he syncs the sim and looks through your recordings. He isn't so cruel as to play them without permission, deferring back to you.

You raise your hand and tap the file. 

It starts with you talking to yourself. “There's no… what alley was he…” You scrub forward to the middle of the video, just before the distension begins. “Hey, do you see that?” you ask your teammates.

Miguel leans forward. He's standing very, very close to you, and he talks quietly so as not to overcloud the sound on screen, “Here. Does this jog your memory?” he asks. 

You look away from him again. But, now he's asked, and now you've seen it, there was something unfamiliar. “After it appeared, the anomaly changed. Doc Ock didn't look like himself. I thought I was seeing things, but here–” You rewind the video and point at the outline of Doc Ock against the bubble. “See? He's different. He looks paler.” 

Miguel glares at the screen in concentration. Your comparison must impress him, though it doesn't solve the problem. “Alright,” he says as he copies the file from your drone. You summon it back to your heart. “The next time one of these is reported, I want you to come with me.” 

“Oh. Why?” 

“Because six people went to that dimension and only one of them flagged this. You have a sharp eye. When you deign to use them.” 

You bring your gaze up in a rush, “I– I'm just nervous–” 

“I know.” He smiles at you again, not at all the prey versus predator grin you'd imagined, but a more private smile as though you're sharing a joke. He looks at once like a normal man. Is he flirting with you? “Keep your communicator on, hm? I'll call for you.” 

“Okay.” You don't know what to do, so you offer him a smile of your own. “See you then.” 

He chuckles into himself as though he knows something you don't. “See you, nerviosa.” 

You wouldn't need to know Spanish to know he's teasing you. 

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: Angel Learns a Lesson

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” I did my best for an ace x ace relationship, based on personal experience. Both parties are moderately sex favorable. Silly one shot inspired by my brain saying ‘what if a Stolas-esque bleep fest was extremely clinical’]

[One shot, 1106 words, no warnings needed]

—————

“Okay toots, you an’ me gotta talk,” Angel Dust found you reading in the hotel parlor. The lanky spider demon had been itching to talk to you one on one since you moved into the hotel. You’d moved into Alastor’s suite, happy to finally have your husband back after his seven year ‘sabbatical.’ That meant you were mostly in the Radio Demon’s company. Angel had learned not to ask him about sex the hard way.

You looked much more approachable. You had the air of a delicate bird. A little shorter than Vaggie, you had the perfect amount of curves for an hourglass figure. The shimmering flapper dress you wore showed that off nicely. Even though your arms and legs were vividly red for ⅔ of their length, they weren’t too alarming. Even your talons looked delicate. The black mask across your eyes was striking but offset by the fluffy silver hair framing your face. Your wings didn’t have a sharpness like a bird of prey and were proportioned more like a songbird.

All in all, you looked sweet, cheerful, and non-threatening.

So on a day that Alastor was out while you remained at the hotel, Angel Dust got the perfect opportunity to get some of the goods about tall, dark, and spooky. “Oh! Angel! What can I help you with?”

“I gotta know sweet cheeks, what do you an’ Al get up to?” You made an inquiring noise as you tilted your head to one side. Even that motion was bird-like. The porn star stared at you, unsure if you were pranking him. But the silence stretched on and he realized you actually didn’t understand. “Wha…how…you…” he didn’t know how to talk about sex with someone who didn’t understand innuendo. “How do you and Smiles have sex?”

That just confused you more. “Angel, ma petite araignée, I thought you worked in the sex industry. Surely you know the mechanics.” You paused. “Though I suppose I wouldn’t put it past that lousy moth to keep you in the dark.”

“I know how banging works! Jeez, I can’t do this sober.” He ordered drinks from a Husk that was trying not to laugh. He drank one, got a refill and brought one back for you as well. “A’right. You and Alastor are both as thick as two short planks about anything sexy, so I wanna know how you guys ever do anything in bed. Besides sleeping,” he hastened to add.

“Ooooooooh, okay! Sure, I don’t mind talking. But you gotta explain all those innuendos we don’t understand, got it cher?”

“You got it toots. Now spill, start with how often you do the deed.”

You sipped your whiskey as you thought back over the last century. “Mm, anywhere from one to four times a year? It varies, but infrequently is a good way to put it.”

“You only have sex once a year?!”

“I didn’t say that. It’s usually just for the night but intercourse occurs more than once when we feel up to it. Multiple times usually,” you clarified with a chuckle.

“Okay, makes sense, ya got me there. So it’s just when you’re both in the mood then?”

“I suppose you could put it that way. It’s an enjoyable activity, just not something we need to do. Or want to do as much as most.”

“A’right, we got the scheduling figured out. I gotta know technique. Positions, toys, he into kinky shit? You into kinky shit?” He leaned on the couch back, thrilled that he got you talking.

“Well [redacted] is our usual position. We’ve tried [beep], [bleep], [what], [why]. Oh and [really?] but that was uncomfortable for Alastor. [redacted] and [redacted] were fun but we were so worn out the next day. I like [beeeeeeeeeeep] to mix things up. I don’t know if they count as kinky but [oh god], [nope], [beepbeep], [thats a thing?], [redacted], [please stop], [srsly], and [wow] are all things we’ve attempted over the years. I like some [bleeping all this] and [this too] personally while he enjoys [hide your eyes], [nope], [double nope]. Oh, I almost forgot [holy shit], we gave that a try before his sabbatical.” Angel and Husk both looked at you in disbelief as your list grew. Then you continued.

“As for toys…[don’t wanna know], [redacted], [dang girl], and [bleepbleepBLEEP] all see some use. I guess [redacted] also counts. We tried [no thanks] but I hated it. We’ve both agreed we never want to try [ew] or [gross]. [How even?] has been fun. Alastor has indulged me with [no more please] a few times. Of course I reciprocate with some [BEEPBLEEP] if he asks. But really it’s mostly [redacted] for us. I’m sure we’re terribly boring compared to what you’ve been up to, ma petite araignée.”

Angel blinked at you in a daze. He held his drink loosely in his hand before downing it in a desperate gulp. Husk was once again pulling his ears down in extreme embarrassment. “I wouldn’t say that toots.”

You brushed his mop of hair from his face. The poor thing looked dazed. “Angel, cher, I think you’ve had enough to drink for tonight. Husk, do you have any water for him?”

“Getting to know the guests my dear?” Alastor manifested from the shadows, making Angel jump and you smile.

“More the other way around darling.”

“So long as everyone is behaving themselves. I wanted to know if you’d like to go out to dinner tonight? I’ve come across a little place that claims to have authentic Cajun cuisine.”

“Mais oui! Although I’m surprised you’re willing to try after what happened to the last restaurant.”

“You cannot dump black pepper into sausage and rice and call it jambalaya. It’s a sin and a disgrace and the place deserved to burn for it.”

“Right you are, Alastor. Am I dressed well enough or shall I go change?” You stood up and twirled for his inspection.

“Hmm, lovely as always my dear.” He held out his arm for you. “Until later chums!”

“We’ll be back! Make sure you get some rest Angel,” you called as Alastor led you out.

Once the two of you were gone, Angel slumped over Husk’s bar. “I didn’t imagine that right? You heard her too, right?”

“Oooh yeah. I kept saying not to ask, but you just had to know.”

“Yeah well I learned my lesson. I’m gonna need another drink after that.”

“Nah, I think Y/N was right about you having enough for now.” Husk pushed a glass of water over to him, garnished with a lemon slice.

“Asshole.” Angel did drink the water though.

A/N: This is absolutely drawn from my being married for 10+ years and still not understanding innuendos. Doesn’t matter how many times we’ve done it, that’s not how I’m wired. I’m going with “you can’t be embarrassed if you don’t care” as to why Shrike is so frank with Angel btw. It’s as embarrassing as picking out her shoes for the day. Also when you’re approaching triple digits in how long you’ve been with a partner, I figure you’ve tried everything under the sun and beyond, purely out of curiosity. My count has roughly 600 instances from 150 evenings over their life- and death-time. Feel free to mad libs her bleeped portions, I honestly only filled in a third of them in my brain, and the canonicity is dubious anyway.

@edgyboi10000 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @deafsignifcantother @whitewolfsoldat @ch3sire-blu3

[verysmolnerd]

Dating post NWH Otto

Been wanting to do a hc collection of Otto related stuff if you’ve seen my previous headcanons. But they’re really not HCs as they are more story oriented. :p

First of all, dating him appeared to be off the table. In his mind at a least… Even thought he was no longer seen as an enemy of the public, there is so much suspicion that he’s still evil. Like all reformed criminals are.

Not to mention that since he’s a supervillain, he doesn’t get privacy from the daily bugle. Not to mention finding a job that’s willing to hire him. The robotic arms welded to his back and his criminal record is enough evidence of what his previous experiments did to him.

He can only work for Oscorp which also has a reputation of cranking out scientific orientated supervillains. He’s making a living, but the judgement of others becomes more prominent.

It’s hard to tell at some point. Which is harder? Reforming and reconvening into society or fighting off the actuators and Spider-Man at the same time.

He’s pitied by the public eye or alienated entirely. Nobody takes him seriously, even if he’s never killed a person, nor attempted to. He only wanted to finish his work under the influence of his own work.

Then along came you with a company merger when Oscorp was bought by a larger company.

You never interacted with him, you were in a different department and were far too busy to talk to any of the newer Oscorp employees, which includes a lot of the supervillains.

It’s not like you wanted to talk to them. They’re still people, not zoo animals like your colleagues assume they are. So the best way of showing respect in your eyes is to give them the space they needed. If they want to talk to you, then they’d find you.

However, neither of you expected to meet outside of work.

Of all places you’d meet…. a public library. Informal, tired, and bags under your eyes. It’s almost like a college love story, while one partner sacrifices their grades in order to help another graduate with honors.

He was holding a book by Neil deGrasse Tyson and you were holding a three pines book. (Honestly, you though he was Armand with the level of exhaustion you had)

You just stared at each other, Otto even dropped his book. He apologized and then you commented on the book.

So now you’re both sitting in a lounge talking about the type of books you had. Which buds into conversation.

There’s almost a relief in his eyes that you were holding a normal conversation, as if he’s a normal person. He felt seen and purely human only for a moment.

So it’s natural for him to gravitate to you. AKA you see him near your office during work. Whether he needed something, he’d get it from your side of the building just to see you.

You’ve caught him gazing at you from your door window. For a man with four additional arms and eyes, he seemed pretty blind sighted by you and would walk into a water cooler.

So he also starts messaging you via faxes or other mundane office supplies. You’re shocked that he’s using them to lure you into his clutches.

One fax you got was just his phone number. Like that’s anything subtle. Smooth one, Otto. There was also one just asking you out for dinner… you faxed him back.

“Ask me in person and then we’ll talk.” He read aloud. The fact that you’re going to play his silly games is promising on his end. The last person he’s done that to was.. well.. it’s best not to bring up the past… for now.

So when you have him ducking under your door to get in your office with a paper rose (that he folded himself) he’s nervous, and the actuators are giving that away very well. Other than that, he’s very good at hiding emotions.

And now you find yourself sitting across from him at a nice restaurant.

Now that the professionalism line has completely evaporated, you both open up. Otto seems to loosen quite a bit the longer you two were talking.

You ended up closing down the place, and the wait staff were kind enough to remind you that they need to leave.

Then, he ended up spending the night with you. Not wanting to part with you. And you are you to deny that. He intrigues you as you do him.

Then one thing led to another and now you both are sitting on the couch, sharing a bottle of wine.

He trusts you with information that no other human being could have ever known.

Of course he tells you about Rosie. He hesitated at first, but you were quick to reassure him that he could. It was therapeutic almost. To hear about the previous light in his life.

“Oh, you’d love her. She thinks outside of the box. And she always had riddles to tell, never the same ones. She was so smart.”

He’s more vulnerable around you! He trusts you with his life, even though he’s probably protect you more than you can him.

That being, you both move into an apartment and now you’re with him almost every waking moment.

His actuators do a lot of work for him that he doesn’t like doing. The menial tasks that are just awful to him.

He carries you to rooftops to get a view of New York or any other surprise date he’d come up with.

The actuators wrap around you to show his subconscious form of admiration. Sometimes the actuator claws would clamp on your body as a form of kisses or long hugs.

He loves to cook. He knows recipes and often makes the same dinners that Rosie would make him.

You know that woman is happy to see that he’s moved on, the shadows of his past are able to be forgiven.

You also pet his actuators and sometimes use them as an extension to his hands, so you hold hands with his actuators.

He also uses the arms to pick you up for a proper kiss. He’s super affectionate if you haven’t picked that up already.

He loves to read books to you. Sitting on his lap, snuggled up against him as he reads TS Eliot.

You wear his glasses sometimes, you have no idea how he can see. He’s blind pretty much.

He’s wearing his heart on his sleeve around you, and he loves with all his being.

Treat him nicely, he’s already lost someone before and he’ll go to wits end to make sure that doesn’t happen again.

[greg-montgomery]

energetic!reader going on long rants while grumpy old man aaron just sits and listens with a small smile. he lowkey loves being able to be silent for long bits of time.

-🍒

“Mmm…you smell so heavenly,” you murmured against Aaron’s neck, curled up nicely on the couch, right by his side. His hair was still wet from the shower he had taken and you felt little drops of water falling on your cheek.

Your fingers pushed back his hair and ended up scratching his temples, causing him to close his eyes in bliss. “That’s nice,” he said.

You’d keep going forever if it meant Aaron would be happy.

“I missed you today,” you pouted. “I wish you had the same days off as me.”

“Me too, sweetheart.” He kissed the side of your head and spoke again. “Tell me about your day.”

‘Tell me about your day.’ That was a sentence you heard from your boyfriend almost daily, whether he was right next to you like he was at that moment, or in a hotel room away from you and whispering on his phone.

You suspected it was therapeutic for him, to listen to you talk about silly things and forget about his work problems, even for a moment or two.

“Well, first of all I went on this long walk in the morning, after you left,” you said, continuing to play with his hair. “And I tried those new headphones you got me!” You shifted from your comfortable position and sat on your knees in excitement. “They’re perfect.”

He smiled softly, and reached out for your face. His thumb stroked your cheek, gently, for a few seconds and then his hand was back on his lap.

“And then, on my way home, I went to this little coffee shop that I showed you last week I wanted to try. And the barista drew a little heart on my cup, how cute is that?”

Aaron chuckled, softly. “Very cute, honey.”

“Then I made lunch and watched TV for like two hours,” you laughed. “I liked being lazy.”

“You deserve it,” he answered.

“But then I got all motivated!”

“Oh?” he raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah! I cleaned out our closet. All your ties are organized by color now, so it’s easier for you to choose one every morning! Same with your suits and shirts."

"That's very thoughtful, baby."

"I stole some of your old sweatshirts, I hope you don't mind," you said acting guilty with your palm covering your mouth.

"I don't," he smiled.

"Then Jessica called and we facetimed for about an hour. Jack is so excited to come home tomorrow. He said he has some new projects to show us! Something, about Spider-man, apparently. I know, shocking," you said, laughing at your own joke.

Aaron joined you with a more quiet laughter, but genuine anyway.

“What else?" you paused, thinking. "Oh! Earlier in the evening I started reading this story.”

“What is it about?” he asked, always happy to hear about your interests. You adored him for it.

“It’s about this girl…she’s dating a really sweet guy, but then she falls for his older brother. It’s like a love triangle.”

“With two brothers?” he asked, intrigued.

“I know. But the older one is hot, so I kind of don’t blame her,” you giggled.

“Hmm…” he said.

“It’s only because he reminds me of you” you said, and pressed little kisses against his jaw.

He grinned and his hands went to your sides, bringing you to his lap and soon you were straddling him.

“Come here,” he whispered and you leaned in giving him a sweet kiss on the lips.

“How do you do it?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Make my world so beautiful.”

You got flustered at his words and hid your face in the crook of his neck. “I love you, Aaron. I’m happy to have you back home.”

“I’m happy to have you here waiting for me, my love.”

[inknopewetrust]

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

summary: you are recruited to the spider society after conducting a batch of vigilante actions against the men who killed your husband, miguel and well... their leader isn’t like the man you remembered.

pairing: miguel o’hara x spider-woman!reader [wc: 12.7k]

warnings: language. this has got everything: backstory, meeting, conflict, angst, sadness, tie-ins with the film, (i hope you're reading this in a stefon voice), ethical dilemmas, vigilante shit, violence, romantic love strains, etc., etc.

Manhattan was rainy. It was always rainy.

But let’s do this again, shall we?

The skyline was high. Muddled variants of blues and reds, the colors that had painted your life for a decade now. It was silly to imagine a world of color beyond that–it's all you knew, you had nothing left.

And all of that nothing was the consequences of the dealings of a few bad men.

You breathed in deep. They were right there, right below your feet.

Their laughter in their indifference to life was vexing. It made your blood broil and bubble to the surface where you thought your eyes may have been red and your grip on the stone building was onerous.

In the distance, police sirens blared across the city where crime did not take a backseat because their most treasure hero was rogue. People were in trouble but you saw cessation of hope with every second that passed and those in charge did nothing to avenge your husband.

Husband. Nevertheless, what you had was gone and never coming home to you. The least you could do was try to find the justice to be brought by your own hands.

"Nah, man..." One of the men–a blonde, high-tech worker from the east side of town–shook his head. "We can't go there. They've got cameras all over the place! Ain't no way we are gettin' out free."

"Well then we go downtown and hit one alongside the river. We'll set up a boat and get us to Brooklyn before they can even suspect anyone was there," another collaborator said. Blondie shook his head determined.

"You think Spider-Girl isn't gonna be waitin' for us?" He scoffed, scuffing his shoes against the pavement. You perched straighter as you peered down. Spider-Woman. It was Spider-Woman.

“She got Mikey last week, Simon two days ago… we don’t have much left and if you think robbin’ fuckin’ Wall Street is gonna save us, you’re wrong.”

A sensible criminal with blood on his hands. Nice.

“Besides, they got the police captain on her ass and while they’re out lookin’ for her, they won’t sweat the small stuff,” blondie pulled a black ski mask from his jacket.

“It’s now or never,” he slipped it on and walked to the door of the bodega on the corner. He held out his hand as if his friend was actually a true friend and not a piece to his own networked puzzle.

Your stomach turned and the sight made your spine tingle.

Outside on the sidewalk of the street in the rain of New York City, the two men who were left of the dirty dozen walked into the grocer with no intention to buy anything.

It hadn’t dawned on you that as you dropped to the pavement, you weren’t wearing your suit or mask.

The hub was quiet.

In this slick world, everything was silver and green and the headquarters were no different — yet too different for Peter to know that he wasn’t from this universe and always felt out of place.

A picture on desk that wasn’t his grounded him to a separate reality; one of love and hope and a small child’s laughter.

Spider-Byte’s was typing away on the keys beside him while he tapped away on the table top.

Nothing exciting had happened since the… glitch. It had been a long nine months without the glue that had put him back together.

That was until Spider-Byte’s computer started beeping in a manic fashion. It was a sound neither of them had heard before. A high pitched siren blaring loudly from a machine the the left of Peter, a button glowing red and flashing.

“Uh,” Peter pointed to the button, “you got any clue what that’s about?”

Spider-Byte shook her head as she pulled up a database on a screen. Her tech hands glided over the keys like music, fluid and fast and working with a purpose.

“Some system Miguel’s got here,” she muttered and Peter attempted to cover the small speaker beside the button with his hand—it didn’t work.

“Where is he? He said he’d be right back and now we’re facing the end of the wor—“

“I doubt this is the end of the world, Peter!” Spider-Byte cut him off harshly. “Now would you be useful and go find Miguel?”

As the dutiful Spider-Person he was, Peter rushed out of the central lair and into the bright white halls of the headquarters. Everyone he passed he asked the same question:

“Hey! You’ve seen Miguel anywhere?”

“Yo! Seen the big man around?”

He slid up to a group of variant Julia Carpenters as they sipped on coffee in the cafeteria. Peter gave them a sly smirk, trying to be cool, and snapped his fingers.

“Have any of you seen the boss today? Looking fine as usual.”

Synchronized, the Julia’s pointed to the empanada station and sure as shit, there was Miguel, talking with the vender who yes, just happened to also be a Spider-Man.

“Miguel!” Peter screeched from the table and Miguel’s mind went soured. A violent jolt to his instincts as the new father came barreling toward him.

“¡At no…!” Miguel mumbled to himself as Peter skidded to a halt, dropping his hand on Miguel’s shoulder with a clunk.

“Hey, Boss! Whatcha… watcha doin’ out here?” Peter chuckled nervously and Miguel narrowed his eyes. “You said you’d be right back.”

“I did,” Miguel drawled. “I told you five minutes and it’s only been three, Peter.”

Peter laughed, glancing around the space as confused gazes began to pick up on the pebbles of sweat that dripped from his temple.

“Oh! You don’t say?”

“What’s so impo—“ Miguel began but never finished. Lyla appeared out of thin air with a casual urgency unlike Peter’s frantic one.

“We’ve got a doozy here for ya, boss.”

With Lyla, everything came to life smoothly. As she snapped her fingers, holograms of screens appeared like magic and on them, an un-masked, Spider-Woman was beating the shit out of thieves in a bodega.

“Jesus,” Peter whispered to himself.

“He doesn’t come here,” Miguel replied without a smile nor a chuckle but it took Peter back.

Miguel was watching the woman carefully. This Spider-Woman was not apart of the society and was actively doing what no Spider-Person should do. However, Miguel knew the actions. He felt them deep within his bones and the mistakes he had made as a newly minted Spider-Man 2099.

“Name’s Y/n L/n… a former nurse who got mixed up in a bad batch of blood for a transfusion. This isn’t the first time we’ve been alerted about her,” Lyla debriefed and Miguel snapped.

“What do you mean, ‘not the first time?’”

“These are a group of men she’s been targeting. It’s got to do with her,” Lyla cleared her throat that was nonexistent, “canon event.”

“We have to bring her in,” Miguel began walking away from Peter and Lyla followed. “I am NOT having some vigilante shit show up on this doorstep. Peter, get Jess, brief her and get a day pass to bring along.”

“Miguel,” Peter wagered, “what if this is associated with her canon? What if she’s just an anti-hero in her world?”

“She’s not,” Lyla piped back in. “She’s a hero, hero. And this isn’t part of her canon event. You’ve gotta know how grief moves people?”

Miguel grunted, Peter sighed.

“Get Jess. I’ll wait for you,” Miguel pushed on Peter’s shoulder to send him the other way.

Once alone and down the winding halls near the center of the headquarters, Lyla spoke again perched on Miguel’s shoulder.

“Miguel, I think there’s something you should know?”

“Know what, Lyla?” Miguel’s attitude had always been sour—she had been there from his creation and it never changed. He never truly smiled, he never truly laughed.

Miguel O’Hara was a tough nut to crack in a world full of people who lived off joy and laughter.

But she could feel the sensations radiating off of him. Those strident lines of afflictions that were masked by the way he covered his face. The tense nature of his shoulders as he walked further and further away but closer to a person he’d never thought to face again.

It felt like an intrusion all over again.

“You know what, Lyla?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” she defended, hologramed hand squeezing his shoulder. “But there are a million Peter’s and Gwen’s and MJ’s out there.”

“This isn’t her,” Miguel huffed. “She would never do this.”

“But she is, Miguel… and her canon event is you.”

“So a possible disruption?”

“It’s already happened,” Lyla explained, giving immediate explanation to your actions. Miguel did not know you in this way, but he could imagine why such feelings would manifest in violence.

“Good, good.”

Lyla scoffed, hopping to her feet. “I wouldn’t say it’s ‘good,’ boss. You died in her world. You were married in her world. I think she’s gonna wanna slap you for even existing in another timeline.”

“Why?” Miguel quirked a brow. “You know her or something? Keeping secrets from me now?”

To save her, Peter and Jess entered the lair with their bands glowing. Lyla simply shrugged and disappeared before they jumped into an Earth that would feel like they own but be nothing like it.

“Miguel," Jess was already shaking her head. Three months pregnant and still doing work, both Peter and Miguel would not be surprised if the child arrived wearing a suit of their own. "There's no anomaly there–there hasn't been a case in that world of a villain glitching from another."

"It's not about the bad guys," Miguel walked toward them to meet them in the middle. "What she's doing no Spider-Person has done before and what's the purpose of a society if we don't help one of our own?"

Lyla appeared between the three ready to open the portal.

"One last thing, folks!" She walked around casually glowing and pushed up her heart shaped glasses to her hairline. "She's not wearing her suit - so if you don't work fast, her identity will be known to the public and well! We just can't have that, can we?"

"Fantastic!" Peter complained as Miguel opened up the portal. "They are a bit suffocating really, if you asked me."

"Well we didn't," Miguel gruffed.

"What's her name? Just Spider-Woman?" Jess asked. "Should we just yell 'Hey! Spider-Woman! Stop it! You're actually a good person!'"

"Y/n. Her name is Y/n and don't freeze up when you see her, alright bud? Alright! See you all when you get back! Have fun!" Lyla waved, patting Miguel's leg as she walked the floor and disappeared once more.

Stretching out his legs, Peter did not miss the glare Miguel gave Lyla. His eyes cold and hardened; he knew so little of this leader but felt he knew so much. Miguel wasn't like the other Spider-People and well, he assumed perhaps you were not either.

Peter missed that he should have recognized your name.

He had been there with Miguel when the other world collapsed.

"Anything else you wanna tell us, boss?" He pushed. Miguel shook his head and slipped on his mask in more ways than one.

"She's disturbing her own canon by going rogue. I'm not going to let her destroy it because she's... upset."

Jess laughed and Miguel was indignant. "If she's a bad egg, she's a bad egg, Miguel. You can't save everyone."

"She's not a bad one!" Miguel scolded her, pointing out toward the darkness of the portal. "She's not supposed to do this and we need to fix this! Y/n is good!"

Peter smirked, wiggling his brows. He could sense Miguel's anger muddled with a nervous fear he never had. "Y/n, Miguel... first name basis already and we haven't even met her. You move fast, don't you?"

"Oh, you are so fucking annoying! She was my wife!"

Peter's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Oh no! Not again, nope!"

"She doesn't exist in this world anymore, Peter," Earth 928, "and in another timeline, she's taken the mantle."

Jess jutted her hip out as the whirring of the portal loomed over them. "So you exist in her's too then? This won't be too confusing. It's just like Peter and MJ or Gwen in the thousands of realities that exist."

"Sure, sure," Miguel said. "But there are only three realities where she exists and," he cleared his throat as he looked down the portal, "this is the last one left."

"We shouldn't risk it. We can't collapse another world."

"We won't collapse it."

"How do you know that?" Peter questioned. There was always a level of selfishness when it came to those someone loved most.

"I just... I just know! You're not in charge here, Peter. If I don't have any hesitations right now, then neither can you."

"Well then," Peter strutted through the portal and turned around before his body was completely gone, "Let's go get us another Spidey then, yeah?"

And he saluted Miguel and Jess before jumping in.

"You've been monitoring her world?" Jess asked and Miguel looked to his feet. She had never seen him so bashful. Never one to make a scene of rash emotional actions, the causation would need

"I watch over many worlds."

"Yeah but come on," She dug, "this is a lot different than those worlds. You know her."

"I don't know her," Miguel defended himself and took a step further into the portal. "She isn't my wife. She's just a version of her that I don't know."

"Mhm," Jess hummed and drummed on her arm as they remained crossed from the moment Miguel said you were his wife. "Let's go meet her then. Then you can go on and on about how she's everything you remember but not the same."

And she walked through the portal before she disappeared to leave Miguel alone.

With clenched fists, Miguel breathed in deep and appeared in a reality he promised never to interfere with.

Inside of the bodega, the two men bartered with one another in the aisle. They looked to be two friends having a conversation in the middle of the shop but their intentions were not pure.

The bell above the door rang as you entered. Shoulders and hair wet from the rain, the cashier paid you no mind as he changed the station on his portable radio sat on the counter.

There were three civilians inside. One, the cashier who was oblivious and that is the sole reason these thugs decided to hit the bodega. An 'easy' target to get in and out. Two, a woman who was going grey at her temples. And three, a teenage kid with untied sneakers.

You ducked behind a shelf as you watched them in the aisle beside you. Between the chips and pretzels they concocted their idiotic plan in the presence of innocent people as they always did–it was how their bank robbery disaster went sideways six months ago.

When civilians are present, one of them will always try and become the hero. It is what Miguel did and now he's six feet under in a cold box.

"Excuse me, Miss," the older woman pointed to the bag of chips that your hand was resting on. She turned your attention away from the men. "Could I get one of those? I don't mean to be a–"

The men began to make their moves and you were distracted by the woman. She had kind eyes. Easy and familiar and a familial feeling to them as she waited patiently for you to move.

"Yes, yes," you replied as you got out of her way. "Sorry."

You didn't know why you apologized. Maybe you felt sorry she found herself in this bodega at an hour such as this.

"No worries, dear." The boy wasn't far from her either. He was shuffling through a freezer looking for a drink that wasn't there.

As she grabbed onto the bag, the radio dropped to the floor and turned off. It startled everyone inside and the cashier filled the silence with his desperate pleas.

"Oh my," his jaw chattered, "please... I don't have anything.... I-I-I I've gotta lot of student lo-o-oans and I really n-need this job."

He was staring into a silver barrel of a gun by the hands of the blonde who orchestrated everything. The older woman screeched behind you and the freezer door slammed shut with a "oh hell no!" following its thud.

You imagined the fear they felt was the same Miguel felt that day. Sitting there, hostage on the bank floor with a check to cash from his mother for his birthday.

The check was in evidence splattered with his blood.

In the neon light of the bodega, you made a choice to never let that happen again.

The cashier kept muttering whole-hearted pleas and the friend reached over the counter to open the register's drawer but it was locked.

"Unlock it!" Blondie ordered, shaking the gun closer and closer to the cashier who looked close to wetting himself. Behind you, the older woman crouched to the floor began praying to herself.

"Unlock it now, you son-of-a-bitch! You wanna end up on the floor? Open it!"

The cashier, who now you realized had a name badge on that read 'Max', began to reach for the keys that were hooked onto the counter.

Fear in his eyes, anticipation in theirs, anger in yours.

Anger always caused the tides to turn.

You reached your hand forward in a quick motion and the web that released itself from your wrist snatched the keys from the hook. Max flew backwards in a jolt of despair and the barrel was soon pointed at you.

"Oh you have got to be kidding!" Blondie screeched and fired a shot. He missed. It was sent right into a chip bag and exploded them all over the floor. You tossed the keys to the older woman and went for the gun.

Like child's play, the gun flew across the bodega and into your palm to be crushed like a piece of fruit. It was still hot from being fired and its pieces crumbled to the floor.

"What the fuck–" the woman stuttered.

"So," Blondie spoke and you hated his tone. Condescending and mighty. "Spider-Woman has a face..."

This friend pulled a bracelet from his pocket that lit up green. It glowed as brightly as the neon signs in the window blurred by the rain.

"She does," you replied. "And it will be the last face you see."

He laughed. They always did. It was an inescapable pattern of dealing with enemies who thought they would win. They never did, and they all thought the same way.

"Is that so? I would really hate to have the Bugle's headline to read: Spider-Woman killed innocent civilians at the 6th street Bodega." He let out a series of tisks with a shake of his head. "Who knew heroes could be so bad?"

He looked to his friend. "Herman..."

The friend, Herman, locked eyes on you and approached quickly and with a heavy hand charging with the green of the gauntlet. You could hearing the whirring and the loading of the power.

Instead of moving out of the way, you turned and pushed the older woman away. She slid on the slick floor into a corner with her bag of chips still in her hand.

The shock hit you with a staggering power. It blew you backwards into an ice freezer in the back of the store. As you landed on the ground, the woman whimpered in the corner and the boy caught your eye underneath a table by the restrooms.

He couldn't have been more than fifteen.

And he wasn't going to die today.

So, you got back on your feet and brushed off your jacket. The residual sting of the shock began to wear off and the men looked at you with a challenge.

"Who knew fighting the Spider would have been so easy?" Blondie laughed. "Where were you when we started? It would have been a much more fair fight."

"Busy," you spat.

"Huh," he hummed with a nod of his head. It was like he was trying to clock you–the way his eyes squinted and he tilted his head just a bit higher than it normally would have been. "Say, have we met before?"

"I'm sure I would remember. This is certainly a pleasurable encounter."

Blondie didn't let the words sting. You weren't a Spider who stung with a bite.

"I've seen your face before..."

"Maybe I just have one of those faces," you quirked a brow and Herman charged his gauntlet again. "Is this the worst you can do? Threaten a few innocents and have your friend do all the work? What happened to real criminals, huh?"

"Funny," he walked like a villain. Hands in his pockets, shoes scuffing the floor. "I've heard that one before." His mind raked the last time he heard that.

"Well it must say something about you then."

Herman went to shock again and you shot a web at him. He went soaring into a wall, head hitting it hard.

"I know!" He snapped his fingers like a lightbulb went off inside. Clarity now in a world filled of unclear ways. "I've seen your picture before."

"So what?" You matched his movements as he moved toward the center of the store. Every tight aisle blocked your view like a shutter.

"'Is this the worst you can do?' Someone told me that a short time ago. A man who tried to get in my way."

Miguel.

He was at the bank. He had his check ready, he was at the counter. Miguel had his wallet out and prepared.

He had a photo in his wallet.

"And I think you know how that turned out for him. But here's the thing, Spider-Woman... I don't hate the idea of having that same fate met you tonight. I imagine being so deep underneath the ground it gets a little lonely."

He stopped at the center, so did you.

"I think it's time for you to join him."

But all you saw was red.

There was an intense pulsing pressure inside of the bodega. You weren't sure how much time had passed as your fist dug deeper and deeper into the man who spoke too much and had little to act upon.

Whimpers of those left inside were deferred. The begging of his friend fell on deaf ears.

In the corner beside the three civilians–the woman, teen, and cashier–a glowing hexagonal portal opened to the dimension in which they lived. It hummed like a freezer and moved like something from the cinema they watched last year but instead of aliens appearing from the abyss, three people emerged no different than the way they walked.

They were people, human. Three Spider-People in a world that already had a Spider-Woman.

In their perspective the heroes were welcome. They were terrified and huddled within one another as one robber was webbed to the wall and the other was being beaten to a pulp by a woman with super-human strength.

"Peter," Miguel motioned to the civilians in the corner, "get 'em out of here."

The humble servant Peter was, he acted quickly. His nervous high-pitched voice soothing their fears with panic and disbelief that three masked people walked through a portal as though it was any other day.

"Get the man down, Jess," Miguel pointed to the guy webbed to the wall. Jess tipped her head to the side with an amused, sly grin on her face as he wept. Chick's a badass, she thought.

A violent one at the moment, albeit, but a badass nonetheless.

Fist hovered in the air, you went rigid as the sensations coursed through you. A striking feeling that felt more like a severe headache that came on too quickly, the immense pressure your body suddenly took on wasn't unfamiliar.

You had felt them before. It happened when something in the air changed. When something you knew could disappear or when time was suddenly running short. There was no term for it nor did any other person in this world feel what you felt.

The man below you gurgled. It was, just like the sensation, a sound that awoken something within you. It cleared the vision from red to reality and suddenly the harsh lighting of the bodega and the reflections of the neon signs on the linoleum filled in the edges.

"Shit," you stammered as your grip on his body lessened with every second.

Those consistent strums of radiating itching went from the top of your head to the base of your skull. A humming in the distance turned into a whirring sound that was too extraneous to come from a small place such as this one.

In an instant, the aluminum window covers were pulled from the ceiling by a pair of red, glowing lines reminiscent of webs. It shut out the outside world and the rain that had been pouring down for hours. The neon lights no longer reflected themselves on the flooring.

A hero, a villain... at some point those had all become the same to you.

The ideas that propelled them to act were all based in something that made them feel passionate enough to target an opposing force. When a hero turns to the fragmented middle of the road and balances the line of enemy and friend, the revelations of such shame grow from a deeper place of pain.

"Let him go."

The voice in your head sounded so much like Miguel.

And once your senses stopped going wild, your heart lept into your throat at the thought.

You buried him. You buried him six feet under.

The door to the bodega's alley opened and closed.

"Come on," the voice said again, "let him go and we can clean up this mess."

"Stop," you mumbled, shutting your eyes as your fists clenched the man's jacket harder. The one that had been in the air dropped to his chest. It was wet with the mixture of sweat and blood.

"Stop it please. Please stop it."

"Those civilians are gonna go get the police," his voice was low. It was that kind of voice that Miguel would use to talk you down from a nightmare–or maybe what this dimension had made you.

"And when they get here, what do you think they're gonna do when they see you sittin' over him?"

"Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking–" you repeated again and again. A thud in the distance set the blonde's friend on the floor and a web kept him in place once more.

"Boss they're gonna take her," another voice, not one you had ever head before filled the room and suddenly you were terrified that it wasn't voices you were hearing in your head. "We gotta bring her back with us."

"Alright! Three darling innocents saved again by, you guessed it," a far too cheerful voice added to the collection, "me."

You were curled into yourself over the blonde. Peter saw a woman, not dressed in a traditional uniform, use her powers for bad. But he saw the destruction of the man and knew that it wasn't from sheer wickedness.

He had seen you care so much before. It had to come from a place of caring.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "this is... a lot." And then he blanched.

"Jess," Miguel motioned to your static figure. He turned around and walked away as if to say 'you got it.'

There was an inflection in his voice that made Jess bristle. She hated the tone; removed and vacant. He was already living a humorless existence and the idea that this dimension made you act this way fractured himself in a new way.

"You heard him," Peter went scouring the aisles, plucking a bag of dried beef from a shelf to shove his mouth with. "You got this!" He gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

So, Jess had this.

She didn't crouch down. She didn't attempt to place a hand on your shoulder or help clean off your hands.

Jess kneeled on the other side of the man and your distant eyes met hers to know you weren't alone. You weren't alone in your pain and you certainly weren't alone in this world.

Your first thought was that she was pretty. Your second thought was that this woman was pregnant and that made you sad.

"Looks like you've gotten yourself in a bit of a mess," she spoke quietly but acted quickly. She placed her fingers on the pulse of the man.

He was breathing.

"Who are you?"

"Name's Jess."

"Jess," you repeated, "and Jess comes from...?"

She saw your lip tremble, eyes welling with tears. Jesus, she thought, she wasn't ready to be a mother if she couldn't deal with a thirty-something spider-woman who happened to be Miguel's wife in three different dimensions.

"Earth–404."

"Earth?"

"You felt that, right?" She motioned to her head, mimicking a tingling sensation with her fingertips. You nodded.

"Well, a lot of us have it... and I mean people like you and me... and I know it makes no sense, but if you can fight mutant enemies, maybe you can imagine there are other worlds out there."

"Like planets?" You sniffed and your hands began to shake. Everything bubbling to the surface of pain and anger. "You're from another planet?"

"Not really, but kinda, sure," she agreed for your sake.

"And your friends?"

"Different planets too."

You breathed in a shaking breath. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the sirens begin to blare. It may have been 10 blocks or 6 blocks, but they were coming and they were coming in fast.

"Now," Jess cleared her throat, "it looks like you've gotten yourself in a little situation that needs a bit of help."

Jess was the most sympathetic she had ever been. The way your hands shook, your tiredness expanded beyond you. Maybe it was the fact she knew what made you go off the deep end that made her feel more thoughtful.

"They, um-"

"It's ok," Jess said and didn't let you finish. "We just need to get you somewhere safe, ok? Me and my friends can help you."

The sheen in your eyes was cloudy. Face wet and brushed with splatter of a man who was not yours, there was a lifeline to get you out of here and you had to take it.

You shook your head softly before it became more frantic. "I don't have anyone to go to... I don't have anyone."

"You do," her hand hovered over the man's body as Peter came back and lowered himself beside Jess. "You're gonna have a whole group behind you if you let us help."

"We'll get you all cleaned up and then introduce you. There is a whole universe of us out there."

"Us?"

"Spider-People?" He questioned, brows furrowed. Jess hadn't been explicit.

"A society," she drew back from Peter. "Like myself and Peter," indirectly introducing him, "and you and–" she stopped short.

"And you want me there?"

"Yeah," Peter said. "I mean, we could use some more badass Spider-Women around."

"But I–"

"Don't worry about all this, alright? We all have our moments."

Peter reached out his hand for you to take. There was a certain level of hesitancy you felt; perhaps it was a trick or maybe you were trapped in another nightmare. But Peter gave a small smile. He gave off a warmth that Jess had exuded and made you nearly forget that there were three voices and not their two.

You took Peter's hand.

The man was breathing, he would live even if he didn't deserve to. The sirens were no more than 3 blocks away.

"You gonna need one of these," Jess held out her hand to reveal a rubber bracelet.

"A day pass," she explained, "to help you adjust."

"Adjust?"

"It's better to ask fewer questions," Peter scrunched his face. "Less confusion for you."

You slipped on the bracelet.

"We good here?"

It was that voice again, the one from the back of your head.

"We gotta go. Time is ticking."

Except this voice wasn't the back of your head now that you've realized there were others in this bodega. As you rose from the floor and began walking as Jess led the way, the friend was passed out on the floor and a glowing hexagonal portal was lingering in the back of the store.

The sounds, the sensations... it meant something.

"All good, Boss. The robbers will live."

The man in the blue suit–from what you could tell–nodded and looked in your direction but said nothing. There was something in your body that was sending alarm bells to your mind but you ignored them.

They weren't like the sensations you had felt before. These were different in a way you couldn’t explain.

“Right let’s, ah,” he hesitated as his hands rested on his hips. You looked at him and he looked away. “Get moving then.”

“What’s going to happen when I go through that thing?” You pointed to the portal.

He didn’t look at you. He couldn’t look at you. All he saw was his wife who used to laugh at his corny jokes and rest her head on his shoulder in bed. He saw, in one dimension, the mother of his child and he saw a happy, generous nurse who loved her job.

But when he looked at you know, part of that image was shattered.

You were a little bit broken and a little bit worn down by the world you lived in. You had blood-splattered clothing and tear stained cheeks and it was enough to make his heart ache more than it already did.

“It will pop you out just where we want you,” Peter said as he took a step into the portal and his body began to glitch with the moving sphere around him. “Just walk in and it will do the rest.”

“And it’s safe?”

“So far, yeah!” And he ran off before he disappeared.

“I’ll see you there, alright?” Jess turned to you, then looked at Blue before giving a smile that was as flat as a dead man’s heart beat.

She walked in just as suave as she came.

Suddenly, it was just the two of you and it felt strange.

There were so many feelings lingering that you couldn’t grasp onto. The air was comfortable but hesitant; there was a barrier of distrust and burden, but one that itched to reach out a hand to help.

“You know,” you sniffed back a chuckle, “I half thought I was crazy for a second.”

“About what?” He asked. “The fact that you almost killed a man or the portals? Both are equally crazy.”

In any other circumstance you would have thought he was being sarcastic.

You shook your head. You were beginning to feel the weight of your actions.

“I thought I heard voices… a voice in my head.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” you glanced at the portal.

A lull. The whirring of the portal, the sounds of police cars went mute when you looked back. Blue was looking at you but you couldn’t see his eyes. You couldn’t see a thing and indeed, you didn’t know his name.

Blue.

Miguel’s favorite color was blue.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly. “For coming here. I think I’m still a bit shell-shocked,” you laughed and he knew you were, “but maybe I was waiting for this… I don’t know.”

“It’s our job.”

Blue was done with the conversation at that point. He walked to the portal, his body glitching just like Peter and Jess’s did.

“Come on,” he motioned to you.

“What’s your name? The other two—they introduced themselves.”

“Spider-Man.”

“That’s not your name.”

He let out a huff. “You wanna be caught by the police? Fine.” He began walking again and the glitching became more erratic.

“Who’s to say you’re all not some group of aliens trying to kidnap me? At least the other two looked like me!”

His patience too was skating on thin ice.

“Come on, kid, let’s go.”

Maybe you weren’t crazy.

“What did you just say?”

He turned his body back to you and walked out of the portal. On the precipice of where you stood just beyond and where he did, he towered over you.

“I’m giving you a chance here. You come with me now or you’re dead here.”

“Kid. You said ‘kid.’ Why did you say that? Why did you say I was a kid?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, let’s go.” Like a rhythmic pattern, he turned back around.

“I’m not crazy. I know I’m not fucking crazy.” You sure as hell looked it. “Why did you say kid? Who told you to call me kid?”

“No one—“

A sudden banging on the door to the bodega caught the attention left in the room. Blondie started to gurgle, you stood steadfast, and Blue was agitated.

You took a step into the portal. Progress.

“Nobody calls me kid, no one. Why won’t you tell me your name? Who the hell are you people? Who are you?”

“We don’t have time for this!” The way he said your name that followed was one you had heard a million times.

It was just like Miguel used to say.

“Take off your mask.” You demanded and stepped further again.

“Take off your fucking mask or I’m stepping out of this goddamn thing and going to prison.”

The police began to feverishly hit the glass with their batons.

“Take it off,” you begged, “please. Please let me see you.”

And how could he say no to his wife who begged so mercilessly?

There was a time where you replayed that moment over and over in your mind.

You could still feel the way your breath caught in your chest. An immense wave of emptiness washed from you and filled with a jittery dismay that had no outlet.

His eyes were no different; the way his lips sat and his brow furrowed.

You felt the silent shed of tears mask your face before the glass breaking set Miguel moving toward you, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the portal.

His touch was the same.

And when he opened his mouth, what he sounded like was different from what he said and you were quick to realize that this Miguel was not your Miguel.

This Miguel despised people who lived happy lives.

This Miguel was mean and callous and demanding

This Miguel worked beyond reasonable hours and made being a Spider-Man his life’s purpose.

That was not your Miguel.

There was no making sense in that moment. You either believed it or you didn't and if you didn't, then they'd drop you back off in a world that had your face plastered on wanted posters and big screens in the middle of the city.

So you made sense of it and made some semblance of life within the four walls of the Spider Society headquarters with the Grade A asshole known as Miguel O'hara – not your husband.

The grief of that worked in waves. It came and went when life continued to move. It was strange to think that what brought you here, to this future, occurred one year ago.

Sat by a window looking out into an Earth that was not yours, you swung your legs as those thoughts crossed your mind. The chatter of a thousand Spider-people filled the space around you.

A thud sounded on the beam a few feet from you. Soft, nearly mute shoes tapping their way beside you. Green. The color of artificial grass in a children's playset, nearly blue.

"Watcha doing?"

There was never a moment of peace here. But you closed you eyes, sighed and a smile quirked on your lips.

"You daydreaming? I wonder what it's like out there..." Gwen Stacy joined the Spider-Society three months ago. "It looks so... contempo."

"Contempo? Where did you hear that?"

"I read you know," she tipped her head up in mock offense. "Kids do read when they're in school."

"Yeah, yeah," you brushed her off.

"So... what are you up to today? I was thinking we could monitor the dimensions with Jess and maybe catch a bad guy or two–" Gwen's fists mimicked boxing, "–and then Peter said he'd bring Mayday around–"

"Slow down," you chuckled. "I am up to nothing, thanks for asking and if that's what you want, sure."

Her eyes lit up when on most days they didn't.

"Really!?"

"Mhm, yeah, sure."

"Great!" Gwen got to her feet and wrung her hands. "Jess was in the control center so–"

"Control center?"

Gwen hummed, hands clasping behind her back comically.

"Yep! Just... chillin' by a screen. You know, she's got that baby on the way and all so we thought it'd be best to keep her inside for the time being and she doesn't like that but she said–" Gwen went on and on as the words came pouring out.

"Gwen."

"–that she would rather die than have to sit here and watch screens all day. I told Peter she would hate it and he agreed with me but sometimes he brings–"

"Gwen."

"–Mayday around just to cheer us up that we haven't gone on that many missions and its always well... you know... and we feel like we can't do anything to help out sometimes–"

"Gwen!" You shouted at her. She stopped her rambling; blue eyes wide and ears listening. "Just... take a breath, alright?"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"You don't have to be sorry," a sharp breath steadied you. "I'm not going to go with you to the control room."

"Please," she begged. You imagined this is what it was like having a teenage daughter who wanted the most unattainable of things. "I promise it will be fine! Miguel's not even there so you don't have to worry about what he said last time!"

"That was three days ago, Gwen!"

"So what!?"

The last time was three days ago.

Ever since you arrived, it had been nothing but anger and hostility pushed toward you from him but you were not easy on him either. It was hard facing a piece of your past that had every connection but no foundation at the same time.

Earth 9591 was in ruins and the screens replayed the horrors of the people over and over. It was desolate. Earth was crumbling in on itself and a medieval Rhino had found itself in the mess as Earth 9591 Peter was on his last leg.

According to Miguel, this Peter was supposed to experience this.

"We can't just let him die, Miguel," you argued as he stood up on his platform above you and Peter. "There is a chance he could live and we're reducing him to nothing because of his goddamn canon?"

"We can't mess with it, you know that." Miguel's patience was running thin. "Every time we can't interfere you come here with the same argument and the answer is always no. It will always be no."

"Why?" You pushed. Sometimes just seeing his face now made you mad. The questions of why this Miguel got to live when your's didn't was something that constantly simmered within you.

"You plucked me from my Earth and brought me here so why can't we do that for him? He'd be healthy and safe here."

"This is supposed to happen to him," he huffed your name as he turned back to the screens. "Not every battle is going to be one that Spider-Man wins and if we mess with it, we threaten that whole dimension."

"Well it sure as hell looks like it's in a bit of trouble, boss," Peter let out a nervous chuckle.

"And so it is."

"But what of Rhino, hm?" He hated the way you rose your eyebrows in question. Every version of you did that. "That's not supposed to be his fate."

"One less villain we have to worry about."

You let out a frustrated groan. "When did you become so heartless? We save people here, Miguel. We don't let them suffer."

"I'm not heartless. I'm being realistic and the fact is that 9591 Peter isn't gonna live and his world will become uninhabitable. That is part of his canon, end of story."

"So my canon said to bring me here?" You asked, hands on your hips. Peter inched backwards from you because he could feel the rumblings of the volcano bubbling.

"Take me from my home and bring me here for what? To have another person go along with every decision you make? Newsflash, Miguel, that's not going to happen."

"Oh, really?" He laughed, sarcastically, and looked down at you from above.

"Yes, really. Maybe this canon bullshit is just that, bullshit. Maybe you made a mistake–"

"I didn't make a mistake," he defended loudly. "I am not letting other worlds get destroyed because of stupid decisions."

"So it's only a stupid decision when it's a reality that we both exist in?"

If Peter hadn't known any better this would have sounded like a fight between a married couple.

"That's not what I said," Miguel brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and squeezed. "We can't go around making those same mistakes. I am not putting any other lives in danger."

"But you did it when it benefitted you."

Miguel mumbled to himself up there. You couldn't hear. Peter took more steps back and Spider-Byte ducked behind her consul. Miguel's brown mop of hair slicked back with the motion of his hand.

"Well you would've liked that world too."

"I liked the one I was from."

God, some days he really disliked you.

At the same time, when Miguel looked down at you, he saw the wife he knew in a different capacity and it sent his mind spiraling. He didn't sleep, he barely took the time to care for himself because all he could think about was the dimensions of happiness that you both had and the one you've both found yourselves in now.

He hated that he loved the body of the woman he knew but couldn't fully trust the version of you that existed now.

"We're not going."

"Miguel,"

He lept from the platform and onto the level you stood on. Still as large as before, his shadow filled your space before he did and for some ungodly reason, the presence of this Miguel made your heart pump furiously as your husband had.

Miguel had that look in his eyes that made them appear red. Fist clenched at his sides and that same lingering sadness emitting from his person.

"Not another word."

He hated the challenge you took from him.

"Why is it ok that you took me from my dimension? To serve some sick purpose of remembering your wife?" You spat at him.

You were just like her... just a little more broken.

"I'm not her, Miguel."

"You think I don't know that?" His voice was nearly caught in his throat. "You think I don't know that you're not her? It's pretty goddamn obvious you're not her."

"Oh yeah?" Your voice was no different.

You hated when you fought with Miguel in your dimension and that didn't change in this one.

Peter thought he should look away.

"Well she's not here, is she?"

Miguel stared at you. He couldn't help the way his eyes moved over your face. He saw the same eyes, nose, and lips. You were his wife just as he was your husband.

"No," he said as a ghostly whisper, "she's not."

"And maybe I'm not like her but you're not like my Miguel either... so don't make this fall on me. I didn't ask to come here."

"You're here now," Miguel's voice was devoid of feeling. "So get used to the rules. We're not going."

And he stalked off with Peter following on his tail.

If you closed your eyes you could see fragments of Miguel. Now, however, this Miguel was beginning to eclipse those memories.

"Shit..." Spider-Byte snickered from behind her monitor. Her blue glow filling your vision as you looked at her. "I wouldn't take that, mama. I'd kick his ass."

Miguel wasn't there. He was off saving a dimension because canon was all that mattered and Jess was monitoring that other universes just as Gwen had said.

It was a relief.

So, you sat back and watched as Jess and Gwen flipped through the different footage from the dimensions that either lit up red for an anomaly or maintained green for a perfect balance.

Jess flipped through them quickly. Every world passing by your face within a second of seeing the light on the panel turn green. The few instances of red sent her pressing on a communication button before Gwen could complain that she wanted to go out and fight.

Gwen lingered on worlds. She looked at the images as though she wished to be a part of them.

She hesitated moving on from a boy in a black suit just a second too long.

"Gwen?" You asked her as her hand hovered over the button. She was intently looking at him as he moved about the fire escape.

"Gwen?" You reached out a hand to shake her shoulder. She bristled out of her spell and pressed the button before you could ask any questions.

It would be several months later that you'd learn that the boy was the source of it all.

Miles Morales had heard a million versions of the same story.

It all began with a name and that named person being bit by a radioactive spider that magically gave them powers and they used them to save the world, or fight street crime, or kill mice (in the case of that Spider-Cat he saw in the lobby).

They were all the friendly, neighborhood hero that the world needed.

Until the collider messed with their functions and required a society such as this to take on a much larger purpose.

And Miles was taken aback.

He had never felt so seen sans the moment he walked through the doors of the complex. Every turn he made, a new Spider-Person was uniquely fit into their world so different than his own.

Within the chamber of villains from other dimensions, he saw a Spider-Woman without a suit.

"So people like, live here?" Miles asked Gwen who shrugged.

"Some do. We can stay for as long as we like and then go back to our dimensions when we need to."

"And suits are optional?"

Hobie turned around and gave Miles as questionable gaze.

"A uniform is binding, man," he told Miles. "Use what makes you comfortable."

Gwen nearly galloped ahead to the Spider-Woman with a digital portfolio. Miles saw the way Gwen's eyes lit up just as they did when they saw each other again.

Hobie was the one to introduce you. Your named rolled off his tongue like butter–so casual and cool in a way Miles did not believe he ever could be.

"She lives here," He explained. "Can't really go back to her dimension so she does a lot of cataloguing. The main man doesn't want her out of missions... you know," Hobie spun his finger near his forehead, "little crazy that one."

"I'm not crazy, Hobie," you called out as Gwen pointed toward your group.

"No, you're right," he corrected himself. "He's the crazy one."

"That's more like it," you smiled and Miles felt a boyish crush form in his stomach. "Hi Miles. I've heard a lot about you."

You did. Gwen had been giddy in the way she reminisced about her time with Miles. Even Peter put in his two-cents about the way he trained him and it went incredibly poorly for the greater part of their journey together.

You missed a good chunk of time by not being present when they all converged on the same dimension. It may have saved you from yourself.

"Hi," he waved back nervously.

The party kept walking with your addition. Beyond the orange cells of villains captured and waiting to be returned home, a center of technology he could dream of appeared in front of him.

It was just a tour.

Lyla appeared beside you.

"Miguel's hangry," she complained as she looked at her non-existent nail-beds.

"He's probably just angry."

"No," she shook her bob, "it's the hangry kind. You should have the kid pick up something for him... a gift."

"Gift," you chuckled. Miles looked so green. He was amazed by the technology of the go-home-machine that you weren't sure how he would react when he reached the hub. Walking through all of the test technology before going to Miguel's station... he'd be on cloud nine.

"He'll be expecting the party soon."

"I'll stay behind."

You were certain Miguel would be able to hear this conversation but Lyla had a mind of her own–she was artificial after all.

"You should come with. Miles could use your perspectives."

"What perspectives?" This was the longest conversation you had ever held with her. "Oh, Miles," you mimicked, "don't beat criminals to a pulp... um, don't let your anger get the best of you... don't kill people.... yeah, good advice."

"I meant a motherly figure here."

"I'm not a mother, Lyla. Besides, he's got Jess for that."

Lyla glitched to the other side of you. "Jess hasn't taken to him like she did you and Gwen."

"He's got Peter."

"But he could use you too."

You gave a tight-lipped hum.

"Or," she countered, "maybe you need someone like him. It's always strange what effect kids have on adults... makes them... soft or something. You should see the videos of Miguel!" She laughed, you didn't.

"He liked to play soccer with her."

Her. In another dimension, you had a daughter.

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked her.

She waved her hand dissuasively. "Miguel's not going to, so I might as well."

The party began to make their exit. Down to the liar they went and as they walked, Lyla floated in the air beside you. Miles kept peaking back like a child on a holiday.

"Miles," you called out to him.

"Yes?" He turned around quickly and at attention. He was a cute kid. So nervous and out of his element. If it weren't for his merry misfit group of friends, Miguel was sure to eat him alive.

"Do you have a question or is there a reason you keep looking at me?"

He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. Miles then pointed to Lyla.

"Is she a Spider-Person too?"

"No," you told him and Lyla glitched to him. "An A.I. that Miguel created. She knows all."

"She flatters me," Lyla murmured back a smile.

Miles turned back around and continued on with his conversation that bounced between Gwen and Hobie. Lyla disappeared from the hallway as the sounds of old, tinkered experiments and Miles' struggles painted a picture of a much different boy in your mind.

While his struggles were not yours and you'd never understand them completely, his want to belong struck a chord with you in a way it did with Gwen.

There was a family that could be built here if the realities of pain could be ignored.

Above on his floating platform, Miguel slowly descended as Miles gaped in a slight awe. Yes, it was dramatic. Yes, it was unnecessary and it made you roll your eyes.

Hobie stuck to the wall in the back. Gwen took Miles to the edge and you leaned up against a pillar not far from Hobie.

"Miguel O'Hara," Gwen introduced, "meet Miles Morales."

And then Miles butchered his introduction with cheer. He offered up those empanadas which Miguel slipped right into the trash.

And like Gwen, he fumbled his words by rambling about how to catch Spot.

Miguel threw the trash can at them both only for Hobie to sneak the empanada out of the box and into his hand without blinking.

And then everything spiraled out of control.

Miguel's meter began to spike an angry red as the frantic nature of his focus within this world had been protecting the multi-verse. Here, in this room, Miles was the supposed source of it.

If it wasn't for Miles, many of his problems wouldn't exist and he'd be grateful but he can't be, simply because they are truly real.

"Hey Miguel!" Peter's voice broke through the silent seconds. Miles perked up at the sound. "Come on, go easy on the kid. He had a terrible teacher. He had no chance."

"Peter!"

The two hugged like old friends.

"Miles!" Peter put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be afraid of my friend Miguel. He just looks scary. He's got no bite."

He had seen it once. He chose to ignore it.

So he went on with his little break up of Miguel's serious moment and you watched unfold from the shadows, the orange glow of your tablet keeping you busy while Mayday swung around the room and Miles exasperatedly came to terms with Peter being a father.

"-You always say the 'fate of the multiverse' and my brain dies."

You chuckled to yourself, glancing up at Peter as he circled Miguel. Miguel was holding Mayday like he had never held a child in his life.

That was the kind of thing your Miguel did.

"You guys smell that?" Peter sniffed into the air. He swiftly picked up Mayday and swung right by Miles and Gwen and straight to you.

"You smell that right?" He held her up high. Yes, yes you did smell that.

"That is entirely your problem, Peter."

"Miles–" Miguel caught their attention again. "–You disrupted a canon event."

"Canon event?"

"The kid wasn't thinking," Peter interjected. He held onto Mayday as you strung a web for her to bounce on. Miguel was half torn between the conversation he tried to be stern about and the watching you weave a web for that little girl.

"That's not how he works."

"That's insulting," Miles commented.

Hobie got up from the floor to stand next to you. He caught Mayday in the air, saluting her with two fingers.

"Taking a crap on the establishment... I salute you."

"What are you upset about?" Miles furrowed his brows as Miguel stepped off the platform and walked towards him. The boy would be amiss if he hadn't felt his stomach drop to his feet in the menacing way Miguel O'Hara walked.

"When isn't he upset about something?" You murmured from the back.

"I saved those people."

Ah, yes. Pavitr's dimension. Miguel had been in the go-home-department when it happened.

"And that's the problem," Miguel clarified. "Lyla, do the thing."

As she always did, Lyla appeared with a semi-oblivious nature.

"Huh? What thing?"

"The thing... what do you mean 'what thing?' The information explaining thing!"

She gave a casual 'ok' and the room changed before you.

You had never seen everything before.

Jess had talked about it, Peter mentioned what it looked like, and a few others who had seen it claimed it left them more confused than anything.

It was a bright blue tree, in a sense. Woven with a variation of color that reminded you of the sea at mid-day and the sky at night, everything was a timeline of complete facts of the world. Every moment of every person's lives were tied to this one branch of 'everything.'

Expansive and high, the tree of everything bloomed over your heads and Miles was the one trying to come to terms with the sincerity of it. However, just as he had begun to grasp the idea of everything being resembled by a tree with branches that diverged from its timeline, the room changed to a red web.

Hundreds and hundreds of webs interconnected by lines that captured the very lives in that room. All of them facing convergence by multiple lifelines to different events, canons, and realities that make up a person's existence in the, as he had coined, the Spider-Verse.

"The lines... where the nodes converge?" Miles asked aloud.

"They are the canon."

Every web around him had different nodes. Some had more than others, some had barely any. He noticed a cluster of three big webs with few canon nodes.

"Their chapters apart of every Spider's story, every time. Some good, some bad... some very bad."

Miguel pulled down a cluster to showcase the very bad. You had a sinking feeling somewhere along the line the 'very bad' also included you.

A row of Spider-People emerged in the same position. He saw Peter, he saw Gwen, he recognized you, and then himself leaning over the body of a loved one who perished too soon.

Like a story, Miguel walked through varied canon events that were to occur in many Spider stories. A police captain, a lover, the event that turns someone into a hero, the struggles of the hero.

Miles looked at each of you as a fragment of your past appeared before him.

"That's how the story is supposed to go. Canon events are the connections that bind our lives together and those connections can be broken that why anomalies are so dangerous. Inspector Singh's death was a canon event."

A police captain.

"You weren't supposed to be there."

Even though you weren't there, you saw it unfold from the safety of Lyla's simulation. People running, a bridge nearly collapsing.

"And you weren't supposed to save him. That's why Gwen tried to stop you."

You could see the gears in his brain turning. He was hurt, misguided in his efforts to be a good Spider-Man because it was suddenly becoming a conflict for him. Miles tried to be good. He tried to save people and even doing so, he seemed to mess up.

It was so different from the Spider-Woman you used to be.

"I thought you were trying to save me," Miles admitted to Gwen who had turned her back from him. She kept her eyes to the ground.

"I was. I-I was doing both," she took a chance to gaze back at him only to see the hurt.

She was just doing her job.

"And now, Miles," Miguel sighed and he walked around the space. He planted his feet beside you and Miles took a glance and couldn't tell who was friend or foe.

He didn't know where he stood himself.

"Because you changed the story, Pavitr's dimension is unraveling. If we're lucky, we can stop it. We haven't always been lucky."

Miguel looked at you. He looked at you with a sheen in his eyes that you'd hadn't see from this version of him. For once, he looked as sad as he felt on the inside.

And for once, he wasn't fighting with you about what was right or wrong in that moment.

"That wasn't me!" Miles defended. "That was the Spot."

"It's what happens when you break canon."

"How do you know?"

"Because I broke it once myself."

There was a part of you that wanted out. You wanted out right that second because you had seen enough. You had seen the destruction, had been part of some destruction, and seeing Miguel's world crumble animatedly in front of you wasn't something you wanted. But your feet stuck to the floor. Planted, like mud, waiting to be freed.

It was your story too and you didn't even know what happened.

"I found another world where I had a family. Where I was happy."

In the web, the cluster of three was connected by one single strand to a much larger web with varied canon events. Whatever this was, Miles imagined, was Miguel's universe.

"At least a version of me was. And that version of myself was killed."

This time trying to catch a thief who stole a woman's purse. Not a bank robbery.

"So I replaced him. I thought it was harmless."

You looked away at the scenes. Miguel with her. A little brown haired girl who loved soccer and he did her homework at the kitchen table with her. A father who looked adoringly at a daughter who was joyous and knew no pain.

"But I was wrong."

Then the world began to collapse. In his arms, the girl disappeared as though she had never existed.

"Isn't that right, Peter?"

Your head shot up towards Peter who looked away from you. He had seen you before, in a different reality where you too were happy with the life you lived and where you were happy with a daughter who loved Miguel too.

"Peter?" You gave a weak call to him. He shut his eyes tightly. "Peter, you knew?"

Miles felt the way you felt. A shell of a hero without a purpose with people who made very choice feel like a mistake.

You walked up to Peter. Miles saw the white-knuckle grip you had on the pink robe. This was more than just friends making choices feel like a mistake.

"You knew me?"

Miles glanced back at the web. The three small webs that had little to them stuck out like a bouquet of flowers. Each their own small story.

“Whose is that?” Miles gestured as he tried to ignore the way you prodded at Peter for answers. Perhaps Miles already knew that Miguel had made this more complicated than it needed to be.

He had already destroyed one reality for happiness. Miles imagined that this man could ruin many more if it meant one more second of living.

“These ones?” Miguel pointed to the web of three.

You knew it was yours without even realizing it.

“That’s mine," you breathed in deep.

Even though you hadn't gotten along in this world, Miguel felt the weight of his secrecy fall heavily onto his shoulders.

“You see, Miles,” Miguel started, “there are infinite dimensions were we exist. All these webs here,” he pointed to the connecting lines that reappeared of many lives, “are realities were someone like you may exist. Maybe not as Spider-Man but as something.”

Miguel looked to you and for the first time since he met you in your reality, he saw the woman he fell in love with.

“And her dimensions look a bit different.”

“Why?” Miles questioned. “Why don’t ours look like that?”

“Because you can exist in infinite realities, Miles,” you told him in a voice that reminded him of his mother telling him a relative died. “And I can’t.”

“There is only three of her that exist in our… Spider-Verse, as you put it,” Miguel stated. “And one of them collapsed.”

In a hologram, he saw you in the world they had all just witnessed disappear from reality. Miles saw you running and running and he could see the destination, Miguel and that child, so close yet too far away.

And then there was nothing.

“Oh,” Miles felt sadness creep within him. Gwen wanted to comfort both you and Miles but couldn’t muster it in front of Miguel.

Peter wasn't sure what to do.

One strand of three disappeared.

“And in the other, she’s not here anymore.”

"What dimension is that?"

Miguel sighed. Hands on his hips, he met Miles' intense stare instead of yours.

"This one."

“So there is only me now,” you have a half-hearted smile.

“I thought you said you were the only Spider-Man in this dimension?” Miles asked Miguel as he tried to make sense of this world he found himself in.

“I am,” Miguel clarified. “She’s not from this dimension. Her… alternate self isn’t here anymore.”

He recalled the images of all the Peter’s and Gwen’s and Jessica’s mourning their canon disasters. Loved ones, friends, lovers.

The second strand of three disappeared.

“Does that mean if you…?”

You nodded your head at Miles. Peter put his hand on your shoulder at the admission.

Miguel focused on that hand. He saw the comfort, he saw the friendly love and knew he had wasted time. He had wasted months being angry at you when you weren’t the cause of it.

He had watched over your dimension to keep you safe while you struggled and in his own pain, he made the unity between you strained and unrealistic.

But he also knew the greater purpose.

“I guess I just have to pick the right side.”

You tried to bring levity.

You didn’t realize that you’d be picking Miles and your friends or Miguel and the person you knew because if you didn't you'd lose everything.

And you needed to save yourself in one dimension you still existed in.

Earth 42.

A/N: this isn’t proofed yet. I can totally see a million different sequels to dive deeper into the relationship between reader and Miguel.

As always, comments and reblogs are the best feedback a writer can ask for. I love reading any comments you all leave 🥺. Thank you so much for reading.

Tags:

@csmt-m @er4tous @gracielou0518

[maddiethedogstories]

Too Big For His Britches

I've been teasing @pinkducttape a little too much lately. As a self-imposed punishment (the joy of being a switch is that I get to be my own Dom) I wrote this horrible story staring myself, my imaginary Mommy, @pinkducttape, and their awesome Daddy, Midnight. Enjoy my attonement, I guess?

Today, I was feeling BIG! Mommy, my wife, had been so proud of me using the potty and staying accident free for the last week that she decided it was finally time for me to graduate from pull-ups to big kid undies!

Should have I felt embarrassed that, as a 32-year-old man, being allowed to wear a pair of Spider-Man underwear by my wife felt like a massive victory? Probably.

Did I? No.

The feeling of the soft cotton underwear under the jean shorts Mommy had dressed me in was far superior to the warm, bulky feel of the training pants and diapers I was now, much to used to. How could I not feel happy with my new found freedom?

Adding to my excitement was that today, the day I had graduated from 'Little' to 'Middle,' Mommy was taking me on a playdate! I was going to get to go hang out with Sunset, one of my best friends, while Mommy hung out with their Daddy, Midnight. I just knew that Little Sunsie was going to still be waddling around in diapers, while I would get to show off just how much of a big kid I was to them. It was going to be great!

It didn't take long for us to get to the secluded park where Mommy always took me for my playdates. I sat in the backseat, idly sucking my thumb while I thought about how I was going to tease my friend for still being a stinky little, while I, on the other hand, was a much more mature big kid. My wandering thoughts were interrupted by Mommy's voice.

"Baby Bean, are you drinking your water like you're supposed to be? It's going to be hot out there, and I don't want you getting dehydrated!"

I groaned as I popped my thumb out of my mouth and reached for my Bluey-themed water bottle in the cup holder. Didn't Mommy know I was a big kid? She's the one who held out my big kid undies for me to step into this morning for goose's sake! I didn't need to be reminded to drink water like some silly little baby. But, talking back wasn't worth the fight, not on a day like today. Plus, Mommy was right, as usual. It was really hot outside, and I was feeling thirsty just sitting in the car. There wasn't any harm in doing what she asked, just this one time. Having made up my mind, I replaced my thumb with the nipple of my water bottle and sucked down its contents as we drew closer to the park.

As usual, when we got to our destination, there was only one other car in the parking lot. Mommy and I both recognized it immediately. The pink and rainbow duct tape decorating it was a dead giveaway.

"Look, Baby Bean! Sunsie and Midnight are already here," Mommy said as she parked the car next to our friends' vehicle. She then turned back to me, staring at me sternly, "Now, I know you've earned the right to be a big boy today, but that does not mean you get to be rude. Make sure to be nice to Sunsie. They can't help being an adorable little pamper packer. Also, do not forget to come and tell me when you need me to take you to the potty. Got it?"

I nodded my head up and down in affirmation, happy that my Bluey water bottle hid the blush forming on my cheeks from the mention of asking Mommy to take me to the potty. And, when I nodded my head, agreeing to be nice to Sunset and ask to use the potty, I really meant it. Just because I was planning on teasing Baby Sunsie just a little, didn't mean I wasn't going to be nice to them!

I waited patiently as Mommy walked around the back of the car, opened the door and unbuckled my seat belt. Immediately, I sprinted past Mommy towards the mostly abandoned playground where I knew Sunset would be playing.

"Suuuuunnnnnssssssiiiiiiieeeeeee! We're here!" I yelled exhuberantly as I spotted my friend, sitting in the sandbox in a pastel yellow t-shirt and a pair of jean shortalls that did little to hide the thick diaper bulging at their waist. I was so excited, I didn't notice the pressure building in my bladder as I greeted my friend with a big, uncoordinated hug.

Midnight watched, smiling from their perch on a nearby park bench as I tackled Sunset into the sand in my excitement. From a distance behind me, I could hear my Mommy yelling out with an exasperated tone.

"Maddie! Careful! Don't hurt poor, little Sunsie!" She yelled breathlessly as she ran up behind me.

Sunset, for their part, was overjoyed to see me. They giggled as I wrapped my arms around them and accidentally knocked them over.

Midnight, with a better vantage of what was going on, immediately replied to my Mommy, "Oh, don't worry! It's just kids being kids! Now, get over here! We've got some catching up to do!"

The adults faded out of my awareness as Sunset and I righted ourselves, giggling in the sandbox. Sunset had clearly come prepared to play with all of their toys. Trucks, blocks, dolls, dinosaurs, and tractors were strewn about the sandy landscape my friend had constructed.

"Sunset, Sunset! Guess what?!" I asked, my excitement overflowing.

Sunset rolled their eyes at my bubbliness, but grinned good-naturedly at my excitement. "What 'Baby Bean?'" they asked, teasing me with my Mommy's nickname for me.

"That's just it!" I responded, ignoring the barb, "I'm not a baby anymore! Look! Mommy's letting me wear undies!"

I pulled down the elastic waist band of my jean shorts revealing the front of the cotton Spider-Man underwear I was wearing. Sunset's eyes grew wide. A grin spread across my face as I saw the hints of both jealousy and admiration I was hoping see in my friend's demeanor.

"That's right," I said, letting the elastic waistband of my shorts snap back into place, "no more diapers, or pull-ups, or training potties! I'm a real big boy now! I bet your Daddy will even let me babysit your stinky bottom soon!" I stuck my tongue out to emphasize my point.

As I spoke, I started to squirm uncomfortably. I felt a mounting pressure in my bladder, but it wasn't anything urgent enough to deal with yet. I couldn't leave to go potty now, just as I was starting to rub my new status in my friend's face.

"Yep, I bet it'll only be a couple weeks before I'm holding your leash, droppin' you off at daycare, before I get to go back to my REAL job!" I continued to tease Sunset. I couldn't tell if their face was getting red out of embarrassment or anger, but, frankly, high on my own increased status, I didn't care.

"Stop it, Maddie! It's cool you get to wear undies and all, but you're still just a baby like me! Nobody's gonna let you be a babysitter! You're not 'sponsible enough!" Sunset spat out unconvincingly, a hint of concern that their friend of once equal status could turn into yet another caregiver.

"Oh, Sunsie," I said, trying my best to imitate the condescending tone my Mommy used with me when I got high and mighty, "I'm not a baby like you though! Look at me, sitting in my big kid underwear. And look at you, I bet your diapers so soggy you're about to leak."

I extended one hand over to Subset's diapered crotch and squeezed it for emphasis. Too my utter delight, it was thoroughly soaked. Sunset, suddenly aware of the disastrous state of their diaper, turned bright red at my touch and tried to back away but only succeeded at falling on their back in the sand again.

"Aw! Did Little Sunsie fall down and go boom? Does the little baby in their soggy diaper not like being checked? Is it cause you want to keep playing in it like an icky little toddler? Is that why you don't wanna potty train and be a big kid like me?" I hovered over Sunset as I teased them, loving every second of watching their skin turn as red as a tomato out of fear, rage, and shame.

As I teased, Sunset couldn't even get a word out from where they lay in the sandbox. "I… No… Not… Baby… Gah… Big Kid… Diap…." Sunset's sputtering then suddenly stopped, and a big grin spread across their face. Unfortunately, I didn't notice it.

"Aw, is the little baby too little to talk! That's ok! Maybe I can go get your paci from your Daddy. Babies who waddle around in soggy pants like you shouldn't be talking like a big kid like me anyway!"

I couldn't stop. I was channeling all of the repressed anger and shame I had bottled up over the last few years as Mommy's perfect little pamper-packing, stuffy-humper. I was ready to throw every insult and taunt I had ever heard at Sunset, my friend, just so I could feel bigger and more powerful than someone else. I was becoming a monster in superhero underoos.

Luckily for me and my friendship with Sunsie, my reign of terror was cut short. From behind me, a familiar voice spoke.

"Beanie Baby! I did not just catch you bullying sweet little Sunsie. Come with me!"

As Mommy grabbed me by the ear, yanking me away, Sunset started laughing maniacally as they laid in the sand, excited to watch Mommy deliver whatever diabolical punishment I had earned.

I whined as Mommy dragged me across the park by my ear. "Owie! Mommy! This hurts! I didn't do nothing! I just said the truth."

"Madison James! I don't want to hear it. I heard what you were telling poor Baby Sunsie over there, and it was not acceptable!" Mommy lectured as she pulled me.

My bladder was starting to ache. The nervousness and fear of my punishment only adding to my desperation. I decided to change tack.

"Mommy! I hafta go potty!" I wailed, hoping my growing desperation to pee could distract my wife from my punishment.

It didn't.

"Well, if you're as big a kid as you were telling Sunset over there, you should have no problem holding it while you're being punished."

A new panic struck me as I suddenly realized that I might not be able to do that. I didn't want to go back to pull-ups, let alone diapers like Sunset because I had an accident while in time out!

I struggled uselessly against the grip Mommy had on my ear as she dragged me to the tree nearest to the playground.

"Nose to the tree. Now!" Mommy said as we reached our destination.

Rubbing my sore ear, I did as I was told, feeling the rough bark scrape against the tip of my nose.

"You have more than earned yourself a time out little one! Bullying poor Sunsie! In front of their Daddy! Do you know how embarrassed I am of you, Little Man? Do you know how bad you made me look as a Mommy and a wife?"

A tear rolled down my cheek as my wife explained how my actions made her feel. How could I have been so careless and thoughtless to not think about how my actions reflected on her? Midnight was one of her best friends, and I had embarrassed her in front of them. Maybe I was nothing more than the thoughtless child she thought of me as.

Mommy saw my tears and, instead of comforting me, leaned into my suffering.

"That's right baby, you embarrassed Mommy. You made Mommy look bad. You made Mommy look like she can't control you. I want you to think about that while you stand here for the next, oh, let's say, 30 minutes."

"30 minutes…" I tried to protest, but before I could say more, a pacifier was shoved in my mouth.

"No talking during time out. That stays in. And yes, 30 minutes," Mommy said sternly.

I grumbled behind my pacifier as I silently calculated whether I could actually keep from wetting myself for that long. Before I could come up with a plan to both stay put and dry, my thoughts were interrupted by the familiar feeling of my shorts being pulled down to my ankles.

"Oh, and since you were so proud of these undies, mister," my wife said from behind me, "I think it's only fair you get to show them off for your whole time out."

I was glad my face was towards the tree as a deep red blush bloomed across my cheeks. I could perfectly picture my cotton clad ass on display, the red, white, and blue picture of a web that made the undies look so cool and big kid in the store, making me look so childish while standing in time out.

Making matters worse, only moments after my undies were put on display, I heard Midnight's soft giggle behind me.

"Aw! Aren't those precious?" They said condescendingly.

I fresh wave of embarrassment passed through me at those words. However, I closed my eyes, bit down hard on my paci, and settled in to survive the next 30 minutes as best I could. The pressure from my bladder was only getting stronger, but I was determined to keep my underwear dry. I was a big boy, after all, really, nearly an adult again.

After 15 minutes, my determination not to wet myself had waned drastically. With my nose still pressed to the trunk of the tree, I shifted my weight from leg to leg, only able to do a pathetic little potty shuffle rather than a full on potty dance with my shorts still wrapped around my ankles.

The sound of a crinkling diaper announced Sunset's approach. Unable to turn to look at them, I could only imagine the satisfied smirk that I was sure was plastered to their face.

"Oh no! Does the BIG boy need to go potty? You better show the poor, little baby how to keep your undies dry! You wouldn't wanna have an accident in front a little kid like me!" Sunset taunted as they toddled closer to me.

I groaned behind my pacifier, not willing to risk the consequences of talking during time out. However, although I desperately wanted to yell at my friend to go away, I knew I deserved every insult they flung at me.

It only took moments for my friend's face to appear in the corner of my vision.

"Oh no, can Big Bad Maddie not talk right now because he's sucking on his paci? I thought paci's were for babies, not big kids?"

I groaned again, the sound muffled by the shield of the pacifier as I shuffled from foot to foot in discomfort again. The pressure in my bladder was so bad I could barely focus on Sunset's words.

"Oh no! You aren't doing a potty dance, are you Baby Bean? I bet you wish you were wearing a diaper right now! You could just let go," Sunset said before there expression changed as an idea hit them, "I mean, I gotta go potty too, and I can just go right now! Listen!"

With that, Sunset smiled, scrunched up their face and let loose. The sound of soft hissing as their urine hit their diaper filled my ears. The sound was too much. I couldn't hold it anymore. Tears started to well in my eyes as I felt a warm wet stream of pee release into my once pristine Spider-Man undies, only to immediately become warm, disgusting rivers of urine, running down my thighs.

As I felt my pee run down my legs into my shoes, I also could feel my chances of becoming a big kid again drift away too. I began to bawl behind my pacifier, not just because I was ashamed of my accident, but also because I was upset at myself for the bratty behavior that got me here.

"Oh, Baby Bean! Did you piddle in your cute Lil' Spider-Man undies? Spider-Man looks sad! He's not Aquaman. He doesn't like getting all wet," Sunset teased. Their words stung more because I knew they were in a soggy situation of their own that was somehow more babyish, but also less embarrassing. "Daddy! Maddie's Mommy! Maddie has an accident!"

My fear overwhelmed my sorrow as I heard Mommy and Midnight walk up behind me.

"What was that sweet, little Sunsie?" Mommy asked my friend turned temporary nemesis.

"Baby Bean wet his undies! Go look!" Sunset responded with more excitement than I really thought was necessary.

A soft, familiar hand grabbed my shoulder, gently inviting me to turn around. I didn't want to. Maybe, if I just stayed here for a while, my undies would dry and no one would be the wiser. It was hot out, after all.

Mommy wasn't going to let me live out my delusion though. "Turn around sweetie, let's see the damage."

Her instruction and a more forceful pull got me to turn around. A dark stain covered the entire front of my underwear. The streams of urine running down my leg were far too obvious. And, even the shorts and socks at my ankles were stained from my shameful accident. I wanted to cry as Mommy forced me to hold me arms up, beant over, and tugged disappointedly on my soaked Spider-Man undies as she inspected them.

"Beanie Baby, you destroyed these poor undies! And your shorts, socks, and shoes? I thought you were a big boy?" My wife chastised me as she pulled and picked at my soaked clothing. "You were doing so good I didn't even bring a change!"

I looked up to see Midnight given Sunset a similar inspection, albeit with much less disappointment in their demeanor.

"Looks like Little Mads isn't the only super soaker here, Sunsie's diaper is pretty wet too," Midnight said as they completed their inspection, "Did you say you didn't bring a change? I've got plenty of extra diapers in my bag and maybe some spare tights. Why don't we change these little stinkers together?"

"Midnight, you are a lifesaver! Are you sure you can spare a diaper? I know how many Sunsie goes through!" Mommy responded, causing Sunset to blush for once.

"I sure do! Sunsie can be quite the pamper packer sometimes, but if my Little Sunset needs to sit in their mess for a bit, they'll survive," Midnight answered.

As Mommy and Midnight talked about diapering me with Sunset, my outrage started to grow. I just had one accident! And I warned Mommy that I needed to go! She was the one that made me stand with my nose to the tree! I shouldn't be put back in diapers! Maybe a pull-up or training pants, but a diaper was too far. I opened my mouth to tell Mommy as much.

"Mommy, this…" That was as far as I made it before my wife shot a hostile glare towards me.

"No! I will not hear a word out of you, Madison James. I trusted you to be big. I trusted you to be kind. I trusted you to keep your pants dry. Obviously, I cannot trust you. You will be going back to diapers. I will not tolerate any grief. Otherwise, I will throw you over my lap and show you just how little you are, understood?"

My stomach dropped to my toes. I hadn't been lectured like that for years. Not stupid enough to risk my Mommy's wraith, I nodded my head and responded, "Yeth, Mama." I kept suckling the pacifier, now happy it was in my mouth for the comfort it provided.

Mommy helped me take off my wet clothes before taking my hand at the same time that Midnight took Sunset's. We were both led back to the bench where our two caregivers had been chatting earlier. Sunset waddled in their soggy diaper as I walked normally, save for being completely naked below the waist. Once at the bench, Midnight quickly pulled out a large blanket laid it on the grass.

"Alright little ones, lie down," Mommy said, directing Sunset and I to lay down next to each other to be changed like the small children we were being treated as, something we'd done together hundreds of times before.

We both quickly complied with my wife's gentle command as Midnight dug through their diaper bag, getting out changing supplies for two infantilized adults.

"Um, Maddie's Mommy?" Sunset asked as we waited on our backs.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Mommy answered.

"Do you think I could get your phone and watch a show while I got changed? I've been good and haven't had any screen time all day!" Sunset begged.

From across the nearby bench, Midnight called out, "Don't give it to them! It's my fault, really, but we're really trying to break little Sunsie's screen addiction."

Sunset pouted as Mommy smiled down at them. It didn't take long for Midnight to join us with two diapers in hand.

"Let's get these babies back to clean and dry!" Midnight announced as they knelt down and began unsnapping the buttons of Sunset's shortalls.

With expert hands, Mommy and Midnight changed me and Sunset. Where normally, Sunset and I would joke and giggle as we got changed together, today, with my fall from grace, I couldn't bring myself to even make eye contact with my friend as my wife wiped my butt and other delicate bits.

Mommy and Midnight had us both changed and back up quickly. Once I was standing in nothing but a T-shirt and a diaper in the grass, Mommy pulled me to the side.

"Maddie, your behavior today has been unacceptable. Clearly, you are not ready for the level of responsibility that I thought you were. Thinking you were was my fault. So, now, until you prove me otherwise, I am demoting you back to diapers, but know that that is based on my mistake, not yours," Mommy began.

"That said," Mommy continued, "You messed up too. I warned you to be nice. I warned you to keep your pants dry. You didn't. Sunset is your friend, and you bullied them. That is not okay."

"I am not going to make you finish your time out. I don't think you would learn anything from it," Mommy lectured, "But I do need you to do one more thing before you can go back to playing. I need you to apologize to Midnight for bullying her precious little one, and I need you to apologize to Sunset for being a bad friend. Can you do that for me?"

Looking down past the bulging diaper around my waist to my bare feet, I let myself feel shame for my behavior yet again. "Yeth, Mommy," I answered, the pacifier still stuck between my lips.

With that, I waddled off to do as Mommy asked. The bulk of the diaper between my legs felt both foreign after the months of training pants and underwear, but, at the same time, frustratingly familiar.

I approached Midnight first, feeling my apology to them would be easier. I popped my pacifier out of my mouth so my apology would sound more sincere.

"Um, Sunset's Daddy? I, um, am sorry for bullying Sunsie," I said timidly.

Midnight looked at me with gentle, but stern eyes.

"Thank you for apologizing, buddy, but it's not me who you need to apologize to, is it?"

I shook my head up and down. "No, it's not."

"Who should you apologize to, baby?" Midnight asked.

"Sunset," I responded meekly, avoid eye contact with my friend's daddy.

"Yes, Little One," they said softly, "But who else?"

I looked up at Midnight, confused. Who else was there to apologize to?

Midnight smiled knowingly, then looked pointedly over my shoulder. I turned and saw Mommy picking up our make-shift changing station.

"Was how you acted nice to your Mommy?" Midnight asked.

I looked down at my feet in shame again. "No, it wasn't. I probably owe her an apology too, huh?" I answered.

"What a smart boy! Maybe you'll get another chance at undies again, yet? I don't know if I can say the same about my Sunsie," Midnight said, turning to look at Sunset for the first time since we began talking and catching them digging through their diaper bag. "Hey! Get out of there! Go play! I didn't pack your tabbie and Daddy's phone is in my pocket! No screen time!"

As Sunset ran off chastened, I followed, wanting to apologize to my friend both because I was ordered to and because it was the right thing to do.

"Sunsie," I said as we reached to sandbox again, "I'm sorry I was mean to you. Can we still be friends?"

Sunset turned to me with their trademark bright and friendly smile. "Thanks for saying sorry, Mads! And, of course we're still friends! Who else is going to put up with my smelly butt and listen to me complain about being put in my crib early?"

Sunset followed up their statement with a big, warm hug.

"Now, let's play!" Sunset said.

I had to disappoint Sunset one more time today, though. "Sorry, Sunsie, I'll come play in a sec. I gotta go say sorry to Mommy first."

With that I turned and toddled back to Mommy, who was now sitting on the bench with Midnight again. Midnight smiled at me reassuringly as I approached, obvious remorse in my body language.

"Mommy?" I asked tentatively.

"Yes, Beanie Baby?" She responded, a note of frustration still lingering in her tone.

"I, uh, wanted to say, well," I took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I was naughty and embarrassed you. I shouldn't have." Tears started to flow as I remembered Mommy's angry lecture at the tree. "I'll never do it again! Please, just don't hate me!"

Mommy's body language and tone softened immediately as I broke down during my apology. She stood up from the bench and wrapped me in a comforting hug.

"Oh, Baby Bean, I could never hate you! Mommy was just frustrated. Everyone is naughty sometimes! You just got a little too big for your britches!"

I nuzzled into Mommy as she hugged and reassured me. She was right. I had gotten too big for my britches. But, a nagging feeling told me that Mommy was going to keep me nice and little from now on, so that being 'too big' would never be an issue again.

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Alone

Blade & GN!Reader

A/N: can be read as romantic but it's so vague

-------

Your life has never been the exciting kind but at least it was safe. Ripped from your home and taken in by Elio was the last thing you expected when you rested your head to sleep. But here you are surrounded by criminals until the script is finished. And as you stay you notice a couple things:

Kafka is like a spider: beautiful and elegant but like a spider best observed from a distance rather than up close. Her fangs could pierce your skin at any moment for any reason and you'd be none the wiser.

So you keep your distance, keeping your interactions brief lest she bite.

Silver wolf is like a cat mostly despite her name. She does as she pleases when she pleases and very little gets in her way. She's sharp and playful in the way she does things.

You prefer interacting with her most, not minding her games even if you'll always lose them.

Blade on the other hand reminds you more of a wolf. A lone wolf to be exact...not exactly a good thing. Solitary due to lack of pack or out cast due to being a danger to the pack, you're not sure which applies here more.

But that doesn't stop you from gambling and interacting with him constantly.

Perhaps you're a nuisance to him but he doesn't push you away. He let's you ramble, talk about your silly trinkets and the games you've played without a word.

It's not unnerving like it is with Kafka, it feels moderately safe if you could apply the word "safe" to any of them. Though you know better than to stick around when his Mara flares.

But you stick around and slowly but surely this...whatever it is between you solidifies. Blade begins to seek you out, he watches your back when you're off on your little adventures, and he stays. He stays.

And it's nice.

To have someone or something be constant in your hectic life since you've been brought here is nice. Comforting is the last word you think anyone would associate with a Stellaron Hunter but Blade is.

And you stay by his side unknowing that you soothe his pain, and while he might not be at the point of wanting to stick around forever you make living more bearable. And that's enough for the both of you.

Until it isn't.

The day comes out of no where and so does the portal to your home world. The very thing you've been wishing for this entire time is finally in front of you but you hesitate and Blade watches. You don't want to go but you know you can't stay, this universe wasn't meant for you and you weren't meant for it.

But you want to stay, more than anything you want to stay... so you do. You leap into Blades arms burying your face into his chest sobbing as the portal closes, never to be opened again.

And it doesn't matter, though your heart aches because he's here. He'll always be here until the day he isn't and that's alright. At least now you both won't be alone.

[thepickledmermaid]

A Halsin fanart piece over on twitter inspired me to write this…. Just a little Drabble set far in the future of the BG3 fanfic I’m working on. Enjoy ☺️

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Halsin’s ears twitched in the direction of his study’s entrance. He’d heard the patter of little feet long before the little voice attached to them called out to him. He looked up from the papers he’d been bent over for the last few hours and gave the small girl peeking out from the doorway a bemused smile.

“What are you doing out of bed, little one?” he asked gently as he took the pipe from his lips.

“I can’t sleep,” the child replied, shuffling barefoot a little further into the room. “Will you tell me a bedtime story please?”

Halsin leaned back in his chair a bit while chuckling, “Surely you’re not going to claim your mother hasn’t already told you one?”

“She read one from a fairytale book,” the child grumbled, folding her arms in an adorable stubborn pout “I wanna hear a real story.”

“And how do you know those aren’t real stories?” Halsin teased. “I happen to have it on very good authority that fairies are quite real.”

Amber brown eyes fixed him with an exasperated look.  “Paapaaa!” She whined.

Halsin laughed and set his pipe down on its holder. He leaned over and opened one of the desk drawers, withdrawing a worn leather bound book from it. Turning back towards the child, Halsin held out a hand to her, “One story. Then it’s off to bed with you, My Joy. Lest your mother find you missing again and scolds the both of us.”

A large smile spread across the girl’s face before all but running to jump into Halsin’s arms. The Arch Druid scooped her up effortlessly and propped her on his lap. The child nuzzled herself into the crook of his arm before laying her head down on his chest to get comfortable. She pulled the well loved stuffed bear she’d been holding closer and stuck her thumb in her mouth, waiting for her papa to start.

“Now then. Which one would you like to hear?” he asked, holding the book open with one hand. The little girl reached out and turned several of the pages until she found one the was covered in almost as many sketches as it was words.

“I like this one,” she said, pulling her thumb out of her mouth just enough for Halsin to understand her.

Halsin hummed in approval, “An excellent selection, My Joy,” he smiled. “Ready?”

Halsin felt the little girl nod against his chest, her thumb already back in her mouth.

“Alright then…. It’s been several weeks since we arrived back in this terrible place. The grip of the shadow curse remains unwavering as ever but my new companions have given me something I haven’t dared to entertain in over a century…. Hope….”

The little girl felt her eyelids start to droop as the low rumbling of her papa’s voice wove her a tale of magic and heroes. Papa always told the best stories. Her favorite part was when the silly wizard starts yelling about spider butts. Papa always did funny voices for that part so she didn’t want to miss it… or the part about the Angel! That part was good too.

She was getting kind of sleepy though… maybe she’d just close her eyes for a little bit until he got to those parts….

Halsin continued to read until he felt the child go slack. He glanced down to make sure his willful little wildflower was actually asleep this time and smiled to find her softy snoring face first into her bear. Now if he could just get her back up to bed before…

“Why am I not surprised?”

Halsin’s hazel eyes snapped up to see his love leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a mirthful smirk on her lips as she surveyed the two. Halsin tried to look remorseful but they both knew his guilty grin was just as much of a lie as her disapproving stare.

“In my defense she asked very politely this time,” the large elf said.

“I’m sure she did,” Taverah replied, her tone giving the impression she didn’t believe that for a second. “Sometimes I think you’d abandon nature itself if she asked you nicely enough.”

“You say that as though I would not still be surrounded by natures perfection purely by being in both your presence.”

Taverah shook her head chuckling softly as she pushed away from the door frame to enter the room. She walked over and pressed a gentle kiss on the top of her daughter’s head. Halsin's teasing smile melting into one of pure adoration as he watched them.

“Pushover,” she chuckled again, placing a much different type of kiss on Halsin’s lips.

“A fair assessment,” Halsin replied. "Though if you are waiting for a penitent response we might be here for a while."

“You’re going to spoil her you know.”

"A bed of flowers can not be spoiled by receiving its gardener's time and attention, My Heart," he said softly. "So neither can she be spoiled by receiving ours."

Taverah hummed, “A very valid point.”

“Tho admittedly there is a selfishness to it on my part,” Halsin looked down at the child in his arms before brushing a lock of brown hair away from her face.

“I never would have guessed,” Taverah teased.

“She’s just growing so fast,” he said wistfully. “It is the natural order of things of course, but a day will eventually come when she will not need to seek us out for comfort or care at all, never mind an extra story past her bedtime. That day might not be today, but it will be upon us sooner than we think. And I shall miss this.”

Sometimes Tav wondered how her heart hadn’t exploded with love for this man.

“She really is growing like a weed isn’t she?” She mused. “She’ll probably be able to start reading this by herself soon.”

Taverah gently took the well worn journal from Halsin’s hand and began idly flipping through the pages that he had used to document their adventures together. She stopped on a page of sketches, her eyes lingered on one in particular. A sad look settled on her features as her fingers brushed over the drawing of a smiling shaggy haired man. “I’ll admit I’m… sort of dreading the day we have to tell her the whole ending of this particular story.”

Halsin reached over and took her hand, careful not to jostle the slumbering child in his other arm. “That story has not yet ended, My Heart,” he said gently. “That story continues on in her. He continues on in her. And when the day comes that she is ready to hear it, I’ll be right there with you to tell it.”

Tears swam in Taverah’s eyes, taking solace in the feeling of Halsin’s thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of her hand. She watched the slow even rise and fall of her daughter’s breathing, a warmth and an ache sat in her heart.

“Do you… do you ever regret… This,” she asked in an uncharacteristically small voice. “Do you ever regret choosing to walk this path with me?…. With Us?”

Halsin brought Tav’s hand to his lips and kissed its palm. “Never,” he said as she cupped his cheek. “…well the potty training years gave me some pause but…”

Taverah snorted a laugh and flicked the tip of her love’s ear in response. She bent down to scoop her little one up into her arms and started towards the door. Halsin did his best to stifle his laughter so as not to wake anyone up and stood up to follow. They made their way upstairs to the second floor of the little cottage that had been their home for nearly five years now, until coming to a door with little blue and purple flowers painted along the edges of the frame. Taverah expertly stepped around the toys and books littered across the floor until she reached a carved bed under the window. Halsin turned down the covers as she laid her precious arm full down. Moonlight flooded in from the window, illuminating the beautifully decorated headboard of the bed. Little silver stars and moons had been lovingly painted into a pattern across the wood that almost looked like a protective halo was arched over the child’s head. Tav kissed her daughter’s cheek as she laid her down.

“Goodnight, Abigail,” she whispered as Halsin pulled the blanket back up to make sure the sleeping child was tucked in snugly.

“Sleep well, My Joy,” he whispered as well, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her still baby soft brown hair.

Halsin stood up and wrapped his arms around Tav from behind, allowing her to lean against him while they waited for the child to fully settle in. The little girl stirred slightly once more for just a moment but stilled again after instinctively curling in on the bear she kept a death grip on.

“You know… I just realized that there may be a day we should dread more than the one you spoke of,” Halsin whispered in her ear.

“What day is that?”

“The day Karlach fixes her engine and comes asking for Clive back.”

“Good gods…” Taverah turned around with an expression of horror on her face “Faerún may not survive.”

-fin-

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I kinda wanna draw something for this Drabble myself if I can find the time at some point…. Stupid adulthood obligations getting in the way of my hobbies 🫠🥲

(also side note this is the piece that brought on this bit of inspiration)

[mossyivy]

I just finished seeing this tik tok, and an idea popped into my mind…☹️

One day you’re looking through your closet, just organizing and throwing out old things you and Leon don’t really need anymore. There’s a pretty large box tucked under a pile of dust, reluctantly opening it hoping to not find some dead spider or something.

Opening the box, you find so many recordings, cameras, photos, photo books, Polaroids, just filled of you, Leon, and your kiddos. You couldn’t help but get a bit emotional, remembering the time when Violet could barely even walk…Her adorable little baby cheeks, cute and silly poses she’d do.

Now she was all grown up, barely even wanting to take pictures because it was ‘embarrassing’. You’d find a couple of Cecilia as well, not many for Scottie thanks to modern technology and everything being on phone now. It hurt your heart a little bit seeing everything. Videos on old dusty cameras of them running around in the yard while Leon chased them, picking little Violet up in his arms and smothering her with kisses as she erupted into her sweet giggles.

You’d look through all of those for hours, getting a bit teary eyed as you found old pictures of you and Leon together. When the two of you were still young and could do anything without kids, pictures of when he took you to the paramore concerts.

You were grateful for being able to watch your kids grow up; you really were. But sometimes you wished you could just turn back the clock, hold them one last time before they ultimately decided they didn’t wanna be held by mommy anymore.

Let’s just say, Leon found you sniffling in the closet and you rambled to him for what felt like hours. But he just held you and listened, pressing kissed to the top of your head. Like a good husband does.

- Anon! 🎀

(Live reaction of me tearing up over these fake children growing up... 🎀Anon it's your fault!!!!)

Leon would rub your back, sitting on the floor of the closet as he held you close. You stare down at the old picture from the day Cecilia was born. You remember it so vividly...

Leon coming back into the hospital room with Violet as she excitedly ran over to you holding baby Cecilia, barely an even hour old yet. Leon picked her up and sat her up next to you in bed so she could see her baby sister closer.

"She's got your eyes mommy, just like me!" She squeals, kicking her feet as she moved in closer to your side, cuddling up to you nicely. The flash hit your eyes as you look up, watching Leon take a picture of the moment, wiping his eyes as he sniffed and joined you to greet your baby girl into the world...

"I just want our babies to be babies again..." You take in a shaky breath as you put the picture back and slide the lid back on.

"Sweetheart, they're still our babies. Just bigger."

"I know..." You look up at him, blinking the tears down your cheeks, you can even see he's starting to get a little choked up.

"Violet doesn't even like being seen with us half the time... She's almost 14. Lia's going into middle school in a few months and Scott... He's gonna be talking soon... Why can't they just stay small?" Leon chuckles, smiling affectionately as he kisses your head and helps you up.

"I know. They grew up too fast. But we gotta let it happen."

"Says the man that sobbed when his oldest stopped calling him daddy."

"I know I'm a hypocrite, you don't have to rub it in." He leans in kissing your forehead and rubbing your arms. "C'mon, come spend time with the kids at the dinner table while I finish cooking dinner."

You nod following him out of your room and downstairs, rubbing your eyes as you walk into the kitchen. Violet sitting at the table blasting music over her bright pink headphones while staring at her phone as Lia finishing up a project from her girl scout meeting. Scott makes grabby hands at you from his highchair. You walk over, scooping him up as you look at your two girls, years older now.

Violet with her hair under a black beanie and no longer in pigtails or ribbons and Lia not carrying around her stuffed animals around. Just a cute little bunny bag across herself. You walk over pulling Lia into your side as you lean into Violet giving them both repeated kisses on their heads. Lia squeals as Violet pushes her headphones around her neck. Trying to pull away.

"I love you both, remember that. You'll always be my babies even after you grow up and move out. Even if you're 80 you'll still be babies... Okay?" Violet looks over as Lia just nods squirming out of your hold. You start tearing up again.

"Oh God...." Violet looks over at Leon noticing his own red eyes and nose as he lowers the temperature on the stove.

"Is someone dying? Are you getting a divorce!?" She looks panicked as Leon turns almost snapping his neck in the process.

"No! Violetta, why would you even assume that!?"

"I- I don't know you're both crying!" You chuckle, putting Scott back in his highchair as you hug your oldest.

"No sweetheart everythings fine, mommy's just emotional and you know how your father is."

"A big baby." Lia giggles, smiling as Leon gives her the stink eye from the stove.

"I'll remember that after dinner. No dessert for you."

"Nooo! Daddy please!" Lia shoots out of her chair as Leon turns away pretending not to hear her as she pulls at his shirt. You look at Violet, sniffing again. You cup her face, squeezing her cheeks like you use to when she was little.

"You're just as adorable as when you were 4..."

"That's not creepy at all." Her usual sarcasm, even that's cute at times...

"Can I hold you... Just for a minute please?" Violet looks at her mother, seeing the red in her glassy eyes.

"Yeah... Sure."

[thereweredragonsss]

Brother's Advice

Summary: You're living with the Avengers on the Compound, Loki is also there, as a long term visitor. As he realises, that he is in love with you, Thor gives him some brotherly advice

Words: 1.7k

Contains: fluff My Fanfics

~ English is not my native language ~

. . .

He watched you. He watched you all the time. When you ate. When you played video games with Bucky and the Spider Boy. When you read your books (which to be honest, seemed very boring and unculturated. You should rather read Shakespeare than those silly love novels in Loki's opinion). It was kinda creepy, but he couldn't stop watching you. It was like an addiction.

And right know, he watched you swimming in the lake, next to the compound. They all sat outside, today was the first real summer day. Normally, Loki hated those sunny days. It was much too bright outside. But she was there. So he followed them, because he couldn't stand the fact, that something inside him hurt strangely when she was not there.

Peter Parker and Wanda had companied you and you three laughed over something, splashed water into each others faces. Loki stopped reading his book and raised his head. You laughed while Peter tried to lift you up on his shoulders. Wanda almost drowned of laughter. Your hair was wet and splashed into Peter's face as you jumped on his back. The boy laughed and catched you.

Jealousy speared Loki's heart for a split second. But he wiped that feeling away. Why was he even feeling like that? It was just Spider Boy. It was just you. A simple human. But a beautiful human.

Your red bikini was a harsh contrast to the sparkling blue water around you. And even from his place over here, under the big tree, Loki could see the joy on your face. Your blue eyes seemed to shone brighter than the sun.

He kinda wished he could join you guys. What a silly wish. He never swam in a lake. Why was he so stupid all of a sudden? But the truth was, he catched himself being more and more stupid the last couple weeks and months. Loki noticed these things. First, he didn't acknowledge you at all. But as time passed, and as he spend more time with you - forcefully through dinners and Avengers meetings - he realised that you weren't just a simple human. You weren't boring like every other human. You were fun and Loki catched himself a few times laughing at something you said.

You two weren't friends, hell no. But you shared some comfy conversations. And it was nice. Your company was nice. It didn't feel forced. He didn't feel like a failure with you. And he sometimes felt that when talking to Tony or Steve, because they always remembered him of his actions in New York. But you didn't. You kinda reminded him of his mother. Calm and with a ethereal beauty.

And Loki catched himself thinking more often of you. He wished those conversations with you would last longer. Or go deeper. The other day, you asked him about his religion, about the nine worlds. And even though you already knew a lot (Thor teached you, you were really close with Thor) you still asked him. And he loved those conversations with you. He loved the way your eyes widened, when he told you about the cruel and sometimes brutal behaviours of the gods (especially Odin). He loved the way your face lighted up when you told him about your home and your dreams for the future. And God's, he loved your smile. It was so warm and it seemed like the world lit up when you smiled. It was addicting.

And he couldn't help but notice your scent. It lingered in your hair and sometimes, when you moved, your long hair brushed his skin. And a warm shudder ran through his body. Your scent was in his nose when he would fall asleep. And even though he felt all those things for a plain human, Loki loved it.

A shadow fell over his book and he heard the squeaking of the chair as someone sat down next to Loki. It was his brother (who else!?). With a sigh, Thor leaned back in the chair. "What a beautiful day, right brother?" Loki rolled his eyes. "Why are you here?" Thor laughed at him from the side. "What? Can't I accompany my brother anymore, these days?" Loki gave him a look. "You never do that without a reason, so spit it out." Thor shifted back and forth in the chair to make himself more comfortable. "You know, to be honest... I feel a bit lonely. I miss Jane."

Jane Foster, Thor's girlfriend was in Europe for some work business, Loki didn't care much. But Thor always got so clingy, when Jane wasn't around. Loki put his face into his hands and sighed. "Oh gods! Spare me." "Hey!" Thor gently smacked him on his back. "Don't be that heartless fool, I know you aren't." Loki sighed again. They both fell into a short silence. Automatically, Loki's eyes wandered to the lake again. To you.

Thor followed his gaze. A grin appeared on his lips. "You like her. Y/N." He pointed out. Loki scoffed. "No I don't. She's a simple human." Thor laughed slightly. "But she's cute." Loki's head flew towards his brother. "I thought you were in love with Jane?", he hissed. It was more aggressive than he intended. What in the nine realms was wrong with him?

Thor chuckled. "I am. And I miss her." Thors smile faded. A strange feeling appeared inside Loki's chest. His brothers eyes wandered back to Loki. "You know, sometimes, I want you to feel the same I feel with Jane. It's wonderful." Loki made a grimace. "No thank you." "C'mon! I know you were in love before. You must miss that." Thor waved to the lake. "And she's right there."

"She's way too young. She would die within a few centuries! Compared with us, it is just a blink of an eye." "It that what's stopping you?" Thor whispered compassionate. "It didn't stop me, you know. Eighty years are short, but why not make it the best next eighty years you have?" Loki raised his head, brows furrowed. "That's so stupid!" Thor let out a laugh. "But if it makes me happy?" Loki shook his head in disbelief. But something inside him got hooked about this idea. Maybe Thor was right?

"You can't deny that you love her, Loki", his brother said softly. The younger brother closed his book with a sigh. He felt conflicted. He didn't love her. Right? No, that was too silly. "I don't love her.", he insisted.

Thor leaned his head against the upper part of the chair. "I know you do. I watched it long enough. You're watching her when she's around. You are distracted. You forget things. You smile when you think no one's watching, Loki!" Thor laughed and shook his head. "You never smile"

Loki bit his lip, staring at the book on his lap. "Why do you always push everything away that could make you happy, brother?", Thor said. Loki just pressed his lips together. The thunder god touched his shoulder. "Mother would've want you to be happy"

The pain was like a spear, spiking through his heart. He lift his gaze, so that his green eyes would meet Thor's. "Don't speak of her" "She would want you to be happy, even if it's just a human. She was happy for me and Jane! And she would be happy for you. With Y/N." Loki blinked the tears away, that formed in his eyes. "You don't know that."

Thor's grip around his shoulder got tighter. "Oh, I know. She loved us both equally. She would have want you to be happy Loki. And so do I." His brother smiled softly. "Talk to her." The god of mischief sighed. "What for? We aren't even friends. We barely talk." "That's not true, I saw you talking hours. Take your shot." Lokis eyes gazed back to you and the others. "She doesn't like me.", he said. "I've done too many bad things. And she would rather spend her time with Spider Boy, I guess." He nodded towards the lake, where you and Peter just came out of the water.

"Peter Parker has a girlfriend, Loki!", Thor laughed at him. "What?" "Yeah, some girl in his school. I don't know. So talk to her." Loki closed his eyes. This was too much of a risk. He just realised his feelings for her. What if she thought of him as a complete idiot? Or worse - the thread he was back in New York? But on the other hand, he kinda wanted to talk to her. Gods, he was never that shy!

Thor rubbed his eyes. "Y/N is quite close to Jane. Maybe she should give her a hint.", he babbled, tired of Loki's stubbornness. "Don't you dare!", his brother hissed and grabbed Thor's wrist. "If you do that I will kill you!"

Thor chuckled and freed his hand. "All right, all right." He sighed. "Her birthday is next week. She's having a party." "I know", Loki nodded. "I'm not invited." Thor's brows furrowed. His eyes scanned his brother. "Not? You sure?" "Yes I'm sure!" Loki rolled his eyes. Thor bit his lip for a second and thought. Loki could hear his brain rattling. Then, his brothers face lit up.

"I could ask her to bring you along. You could to magic fireworks or something." Scepsis appeared on Loki's face. But Thor was spurred on. "Yeah! You could do magic tricks and lights. Maybe that will impress her!" Loki furrowed. "You think?" He sat a bit straighter in his chair. Thor nodded enthusiastic. "I bet! She already likes you and that will enhance it. Loki, that's your chance!"

"Yes maybe- Wait wait wait.", the younger brother began. "She already likes me?" He nervously fiddled with he pages of his book. Thor grinned. "Yeah she does. I told you, I watched you guys."

A warm feeling flushed Loki's body and Thor told him what he noticed. Short glances in his direction, Y/N asking about him when he was not there. Her sudden interest in magic and the nine realms. "It's so obvious Loki. Please you have to talk to her." The god of mischief brooded for a bit. "The party could be a chance..."

"Yeah!", Thor nodded with a wide smile. Loki's thoughts were pacing around his head. She really liked him! If he could go to this party, then maybe... Maybe Thor was right. He looked at his brother. "And you will make sure, I can join this party?" Thor raised his pinky finger. "I promise!"

Loki hesitated for a second. Then he placed his own pinky finger around Thor's. Just like they did back then when they were children. His eyes met his brothers and a smile appeared on Loki's lips. "Thank you brother"

[aly4khq]

˖❀⋆- RAFAYEL!-⋆❀˖

- ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ - (obv)

----------------------------------------------

you had awoken alone, no one next to you as the sunlight peeled it way into your room through the gaps in your curtains. a loud yawn running through the dead silent room. your back slightly aching.

your eyes traveled to your phone that laid charging on the bedside table, the light damaged your morning vision.

- monday 1 -

07:35

it was unusual for rafayel to be up this early especially in the beginning of an even month and his first month off. it was a rule in his line of work to take the 4th, 8th and 12th month of the year off until the last month where he has a huge event that show all of his art work that he accomplished in the year alone in one exhibition. sometimes he'd take a break for a month or less in between but that was normally what he did.

it was a strict schedule, even thomas would get agitated when people argued against it. but who has time to argue with a man who makes a good 7-8 figures yearly.

"it's too late to go back to sleep.." you murmured to yourself, slowly sitting up while aggressively ruffling your his shirt. walking towards the shower, you noticed the door to your bedroom was slightly open. narrowing your eyes, you brushed it off; getting into the shower with no worries.

the warm water rushing through your veins, soothing the muscles as you started your day nicely. your hair slowly absorbing the water, the curls beautifully flowing down your back.

the sound of your music filling in the empty sounds the water droplets couldn't do, your voice joining in.

"..baby it's you, you're the one i love..you the one i need! you're the only one i see. coke one baby it's you!!-" you continued, scrubbing your body with your flannel.

closing your eyes, you started to wash your hair, the gorgeous shampoo pushing through the spaces in between your fingers as you softly scratched your scalp.

but somehow, you didn't hear the sounds of the door open and the shower curtain unravel.

"finally you put my love on top! oh! oh bab-AHH!" you reached back, the feeling of rafayel's flannel hitting your ass. but before you could even reach, extremely cold water came down on you, making your body tense up.

a gasp escaping your mouth as you screamed his name, hearing him rush out of the bathroom and shut the door behind him. your anger coming from the depth of your heart.

"RAFAYEL!!"

----------------------------------------------

after your interrupted shower, you laid on your bed in your towel, it was only just turning 8 in the morning so you felt a sleepy as you were 30 minutes ago. moving to lay on your stomach, one of your eyes stayed at the door waiting to see if he would try and prank you again.

not only were you afraid that he'll do something silly, but you didn't feel like having another shower anytime soon. even thought there was a lot of chores to be doing today, eh, you still have a good 12 hours of your day left.

"...should i just get ready?" you thought, seeing if it was best to get out of the room. shrugging, you got up, went straight to your closet but there was a slight problem...

"...why the fuck is it empty?-"

before anything could even reach your mind. a loud laugh erupted from downstairs. you grit your teeth in response, looking at the only clothing left in there; an ethika and his shirt. but you just wondered, 'how immature is this man?'

"RAFAYEL!!"

----------------------------------------------

"...cooking done...shopping done..."

you only had one more thing to do today, laundry. it was one of the most simplest tasks ever, just throw it into the washing machine for its amount of time, put it in the dryer after then boom. easy.

as you made it to the door with the different bags of laundry, a sudden feeling that you were being watching ran ran through your veins. spider sense? maybe

after putting the first load in, you left the room rushing to prepare yourself a nice cup of tea. it soothes your muscles.

The sound of your phone ringing told you that the laundry was done, and you did the process of putting one in the dryer, another in the washing machine.

a while later, you were unpacking the last dryer load, picking everything until you saw a few socks at the bottom. looking at the door, you checked to make sure no one was lurking behind it before going down into the dryer, your legs lifting off the ground as you attempted to grab the clothes.

"shit!- today would be nice." you complained, the socks barely reaching your hands every time you try to pick it up. after what felt like eternity, you got them, holding them tightly in your hands.

"dang finally-" oh no

you tried to get up, but you knew, if you let go of the inside of the dryer, you'd fall in properly. why does this have to happen to you especially on a day like this? you panicked, your legs kicking, a semi-loud shout escaping your mouth. "no! no! fuck."

sighing, you thought of ways to get up when you felt someone hands holding the waistbands of your ethika, the material being roughly pulled down.

"HEY?!- WHAT THE FUCK?!-" you yelled, pressing your thighs together in shock. hands so familiar, running down your back, pressing it nicely.

"shh...it's just me hun." rafayel's gentle voice rang through your ears, the tone just as soft as his hands. you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him, not when he sounded like that. "not gonna lie, i was gonna prank you again but damnit you got me hypnotised."

"rafayel! what are you- ohhh fucking..." you gasped as he slowly slid himself inside of you, his dick still hardening when in you. he shushed you again.

"i know baby..i know..big stretch huh? come on, say my name."

"rafayel!"

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it is NOT april fools at all but i felt a little cheeky.

do not steal any of @aly4khq 's work even tho they are trash!

date made: 23/06/24

[bloomingdog]

𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ; 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

data: reader starts bringing Miguel homemade empanadas for a change from the ones at the cafeteria. 1.8k words, no use of Y/N, spanish-speaker reader.

an: this is the first fanfic i've written in years lol also i'm a foodie and love cooking for people so that's why

Miguel O’Hara has chosen to abstain from most of life’s pleasures, choosing to stay up working instead of oversleeping, refraining from making meaningful friendships and instead spending his days fixing the multiverse. At least he has Layla, and the empanadas from the cafeteria, of course. They’re okay you suppose, okay for a morning or maybe afternoon snack, a little soggier and a little emptier than you would like, which is why you made them today.

After almost a year of working for the Spider Society you’ve found that the majority of them are truly nice, probably due to bonding over similar, if not exact, experiences. The most notorious exception is Miguel, you’ve tried, and you’re not the first to try, to get on his good side. He doesn’t dislike you, you don’t think, but while your relationship with the others varies from friendly co-workers to actual friends you wouldn’t put it past him to not give you the time if you asked. You’re here to report about the latest anomaly you captured—a Rhino who seemed more confused than angry—the fact that you made empanadas last night is just a coincidence, mostly. A looming figure stands on the platform that starts lowering once you call for him.

“Hello Miguel, I finished the report you asked for, it should be in your inbox.” You start.

“Good. Thank you.” His tone feels similar to saying this could’ve been an email.

“And, uh, I brought you this.” You say, handing him the tupperware. “They’re homemade”.

His eyebrows furrow before taking the container and peeking inside.

“¿De qué son?” What’s their filling?.

“Uh, de pollo.” Chicken. It feels rather silly to speak in Spanish with him, although you two speak it natively you’ve always stuck with the lingua franca of the society.

“Gracias.” His face looks more relaxed, maybe it’s the previous step to getting a smile.

You’d call that a success, even if you left far too quickly to see if he liked them.

After two weeks you got around to making them again, being a local hero and working to keep the multiverse intact didn’t leave all the time you’d want for cooking. They’re simple this time, tuna with peppers, onion and tomato sauce, much like your first ones. The closer you got to his headroom the louder the voices coming from inside them got, you recognized them without problem, Peter Parker from Earth-616B and Jessica Drew, they were kinda notorious around the headquarters. You took a deep breath before entering the room, chat falling into silence and heads turning to you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” You walked fast until reaching Miguel and handed him the tupperware. “I made some more, I thought I could bring you a couple.”

“You made these?” Asked Peter Parker after nimbly taking the container from him and opening it. He tried to reach one but was stopped by Miguel’s own fast hands.

“Yes, and they’re mine. Gracias, de nuevo.” Thank you, again.

“No hay de que.” Don’t mention it. Was your reply before leaving as quickly as you’d come.

This was stupid. Bringing your boss empanadas like an apple to a teacher you’re trying to impress, and yet, you’re so proud of yourself. Proud of the softness in his face as he thanked you, proud of how he defended your gift from Peter, not that you wouldn’t have let him take one if he had asked. At the very least, having a schoolgirl crush on him would make work the slightest more interesting.

The next attempt came almost a week later, this time they were filled with potatoes, peppers and ground chili. And without a good excuse you march to his office.

“Miguel?” You called and held the container up as he turned to look at you. “Papas, pimentón y ají”

“Thank God someone is feeding him something other than cafeteria sandwiches!” Spoke a voice from his shoulder before being swatted away, Layla, she’s always been awesome. “Hey!” She said, seemingly insulted, from his other shoulder.

“Thank you. You don’t need to.”

“Yes you do.” Interrupted Layla, you’re glad someone worried about him.

“It’s okay, I made them for dinner, it’s not a bother to save you some, they’re a bit better than the ones at the cafeteria I hope.” You beamed, whatever love language making food fell into, it was yours.

“They are, much better.” He replied before an awkward silence engulfed the two of you.

“You know,” oh God, you’re going to regret this. “If you’re not eating well, I could bring you lunch? I already pack it for myself, it’s no biggie to make it double.”

“No-” “He would love that actually! You’re sweet.” The words between Miguel and his assistant being opposite leaves you waiting for a clear answer. Miguel sighs before replying.

“You shouldn’t, but if you want to it would be eaten and appreciated.”

“Okay! Yeah sure, I’ll bring it to you at lunchtime and we can eat together if you’d like, or not, whatever you prefer. Goodbye.” You waved before disappearing.

Great, this is great. Awesome, really. Now you’ll be cooking double meals, which from now on must look good while still looking effortless, all because of a stupid, silly, in reality dumb, work crush.

The next attempts at getting on his good side were done over the course of a month. Bringing him lunch almost every day was making the two of you closer, that’s a positive. It started out slow and awkward, eating in silence and questioning your decision and it grew into compliments of your culinary skills, cooking tips and dipping toes into the waters of your personal lives, more on your side even if he would share titbits of his past, before the whole Spider-Man thing, with you. One thing about Miguel was that he ate fast and everything down to the last bite, his mother, Conchata, had scolded him for not finishing his plate more than often as a child was what he told you. You wondered when was the last time he had warm, regular, homemade meals.

Fifty-three days from your first bach of empanadas came your last attempt and his first one.

“I would like to cook for you.” Was all he said, and it was enough to stop you from taking another bite of the arroz chaufa you had brought.

“What?” That’s all you could mutter, eyeing Layla for some kind of reassurance or to make sure that he had really said that and all those hits to the head—occupational hazards—hadn’t started affecting you, the A.I. just nodded her head in your direction.

“Venga…I want to pay you back for bringing me lunch for the past month.”

“Okay.” You answered, sounding more like a question than as a definitive answer.

“Good, I’ll see you here tomorrow night, at nine. I have to get back to work.” He said as he got up and back onto his elevator. Layla gave you a thumbs up to compliment his response. A man of few words, you thought while finishing your own lunch.

His second attempt on getting on your good side came the following night at nine on the dot. He looked nice, out of his suit, much more comfortable and casual.

“Come.” He called for you to follow. You honestly thought you were going to have dinner sat on a bench and from a bento box as that was the way you usually shared lunch, as if sensing the incognito of where he was taking you roaming around in your head he added. “We’re going to my place.”

His place! Had anyone ever been to his place? For sure Layla, but she doesn’t count, maybe Jessica Drew? They were close, weren’t they? His place was rather small, it was comforting to know that Nueva York had the same housing problems as its other variants. The first thing you spotted was the table that seated just two people having been set with a matching set of towels and cutlery, as well as two wine cups and an unopened wine bottle. Thank God there weren’t candles, this was much more romantic than you had anticipated, honestly you thought this was only a dinner between colleagues, this wasn’t a date, was it? The second thing you noticed were your three tupperwares, clean and stacked one above the other and wrapped in a plastic bag, you wondered where those had gone, you didn’t peg Miguel for a tupperware thief and were sure he had forgotten all about them, not wanting to ask for him to return them.

“Are you okay?” Oh, you’ve been silent for a minute, he must have catched onto that.

“Yes, yeah, everything’s fine.” You were quick to answer. “But, Miguel, Dios.” That little blasphemy was more of a whisper than a word. “What kind of dinner is this?”

If he was only a little bit more expressive you would’ve caught the way his eyes widened.

“¡A huevo!” He said in a yelled whisper, you couldn’t hold back a small laugh from escaping your lips. “I should’ve made my intentions clearer, disculpa. It’s not a date date, not unless you want to, just a dinner, to get to know each other better, outside of work.” He spoke with a twinge of nervousness, it was so out of character for him. You nodded in answer.

“What did you make?” It’s a good resource to change the topic in fear of embarrassing the both of you further.

“Chiles rellenos.” Back to one-worded answers, that’s good. “Take a seat.” He offered after hanging your jacket by the entrance.

The dinner was normal, and that made it strange, the food was good, if he was a good cook why would he not cook for himself? Oh yeah, overworking, you almost forgot. He talked, quite a lot in comparison to what you’ve grown accustomed to, he joked too. He’s quite charming in actuality. Not only that, but he even made dessert, a small dish of arroz con leche. You talked for long after having eaten, while he carried the dirty dishes to the sink, in the sofa, when he got up to get you a glass of water, you didn’t stop talking. The end of the night was marked by the opening of a portal to your own dimension and your goodbyes.

“I had fun.” You started.

“Me too. You don’t have to bring lunch anymore, I will try to take better care of myself, I’m sure Layla will tell you if I don’t.”

“It’s okay, I like eating with you.”

“We’ll take turns, then.” Words were turning soft from the previous excitement in which the two of you conversed.

“Okay. Buenas noches Miguel.”

“Buenas noches.”

You turned to enter the portal, not without pausing midway and taking a step back to him.

“I hope we can do this again.” Raising on your tiptoes and planting a nervous kiss on his cheek was your way of sealing yours as the last words. You left hurriedly, much too quickly to know if he had liked your courageous act.

🕷 thank you for reading !

[vampzzi]

Hello! how are you? i hope you have a very nice and pleasant day/night! :D

i have an idea about.. e1610 Miles with a Childhood bestfriend reader, the reader thought that Miles were avoiding them which makes the reader upset when in reality Miles were busy with his duty as a spiderman

And Miles makes it up by comforting the reader and cleared the silly misunderstanding, then they ended up spending their time together again like how they used to be.

hehe! i just thinks its cute, im so sorry if it was too detailed! 😭

“TALK TO ME, PLEASE.”

Earth 1610! Miles Morales x GN! Reader

Author note; AWWW this is so cute omg. I’ll fix the grammar errors and stuff later. I’m on a roll rn

You — had been friends with Miles since kindergarten, you guys were even friends outside of school. You guys would go to the park together and hang out, always on the swings together. That all changed as life went on and you guys matured, Miles began being distant and it pulled at your heart strings to see it. You guys were close, he knew it something was wrong he could always talk to you, yet he never told you anything.

It started with him answering messages late to him not showing up to plans at all, he didn’t come to the mall when you guys were suppose to go the mall. You had texted him several times, no answer. It dawned upon you to stop bothering him, you yourself started being distant cause why would you text him if he’s gonna answer late or not show that he cares. All kinds of emotions strung out of you but it all came down to you laying in your bed, letting fat tears fall down your face as you sniffled and blew your nose into tissues as you put them in the trash can.

Your phone rang as you couldn’t bring yourself to answer it but decided to answer anyways. Miles voice filled your ear “I’m so sorry for being so inactive with you lately, things have been busy lately”.

You sniffled and you didn’t know if you could talk straight “W-Well, why didn’t tell me that?” you could hear Miles let out a low groan “ill come get you and we can talk about it face to face.” You didn’t even get to say anything before he hung up. You looked a hot mess as you walked to the bathroom and began to clean your face, letting the warm water touch your skin as you checked yourself after drying your face.

Shuffling quickly as you stumbled to your room to change into something presentable, you could hear a knock at your door as you were getting your shirt over your head before finally getting it on and sliding your shoes on with a slight struggle that almost made you fall. “Commingg!!” You say as you make it to the door to reveal Miles as he rubbed the back of your neck. “You ready to go?” Slowly nodding as you stepped outside and closed your door behind you

“Soo, what’s been keeping you so busy that you’ve been ignoring me and acting as if I don’t exist” Miles knew he had to tell you, he told you everything and it hurt him to see you like this as you walked along the bush sidewalk of Brooklyn. “I can’t tell you out in public but when we get somewhere private, I can tell you.”

“Alright.”

You two were in an alleyway and Miles looked at you as you were leaned against the wall, he was chewing at his bottom lip as he came clean. “You know Spider-Man right?” You looked at him “uh huh?” Silence slowly filled the air as the last two words left his mouth “I’m Spider-Man”. You thought he was joking as your brain processed it but it started to make sense, that costume in his closet, the small little marks you use to see on his skin.

“Well, why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve been more understanding Miles”

“I know that, it’s just I don’t wanna put you in danger”

“I guess that’s understandable ” you mumbled as you couldn’t help yourself as you hugged him, you missed him so much. “Wanna get some ice cream, I’ll try my best to make it up to you.” You guys were making your way to an ice cream place as you had got your favorite ice cream flavor as Miles had cookies and cream while you guys strolled the sidewalk before hitting up the park just like old times.

“Aren’t we too old?”

Miles said as you giggled “never too old to have fun” as you got on the swing and he joined on the swing next to you as you guys swung on the swings. “I’m sorry once again” Miles apologized again as you looked at him “I forgive you Miles, just at least text me about it geez”

You and Miles sat on the swings as you watched the sun go down together.

[meganslife]

Pen pals - p. parker (part three)

read part one and part two if you haven’t already!!<3

pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!reader

summary: as summer approaches, you and peter have plans to meet each other. also, who the hell is spiderman?

warnings: none :3

a/n: HOLY MOLY I AM POPPING THESE OUT VERY QUICKLY. i already have the 4th part written butttt i’m not gonna post it right away bc suspense is fun;) anyway, enjoy!

When June rolled around, You and Peter had a plan to meet in person. It was going to be a week-long visit. You’d be staying in Queens with Peter and May.

The trip itself was all planned out. You had plane tickets that Peter insisted on paying for, but you ended up buying them instead. You’d be landing in New York on July 1st, and leaving on the 8th. A week wasn’t nearly enough time to make up for years of letters, but it would have to do.

As mid-June approached, you’d been doing a lot of research on things to do in New York. One of the first things that came up when you researched was a vigilante named Spider-Man. You laughed at the name, thinking it wasn’t creative at all.

Then you texted Peter about it right away. Spider-Man was in New York, after all.

‘Who’s this Spider-Man guy?? Twitter says he’s in New York’

‘Spider-Man? He’s kind of silly.’

‘How so?’

‘Umm… He shoots webs out of his body and wears a spandex suit no matter how the weather is. Kind of silly and weird if you ask me.’

‘Are you researching about New York?’

‘Possibly. I was looking up things to do!’

‘Oh, sweetheart. There’s nothing that could prepare you for New York.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll find us things to do.’

‘I wanna see this Spider guy.’

‘Do you know what he looks like?’

‘He’s super mysterious. I’m not sure how to feel about it.’

‘I think that’s the point, Y/N. He’s a vigilante, you know? He probably doesn’t want anyone to know anything about his personal life. It could be dangerous for him.’

‘You’ve put a lot of thought into this.’

‘Thinking is one of my passions.’

‘Spider-Man has a really nice ass.’

‘PHONE ON THE COUNTER. NOW.’

Peter was slightly off about Spider-Man. You could just feel it. But, it didn’t really matter.

Soon enough, you’d be in Queens. You’d be eating May’s beautiful food and hugging Peter.

You fall asleep with your phone in your hand, and your heart full.

~

The last day of June finally came, and your heart was pounding while packing your suitcase.

It was surreal. In a matter of hours, you’d be over 2,000 miles away from home. The distance between you and Peter would be broken. You’d finally get the hug from Peter that you’ve been yearning for.

When you set your alarm for midnight to wake up for your flight, you couldn’t sleep. Peter was texting you so many sweet words. He was so lovely, you wanted to cry.

‘May is so excited to see you.’

‘I’m also really excited.’

‘I can’t even sleep.’

‘You’re gonna be even prettier in person.’

‘Peter, stop. I’m trying to sleep. I have to wake up at midnight and you’re waking me up with your sappy words.’

‘You love it;)’

‘See you soon, lovie.’

Eventually, you dozed off.

Peter, your pen pal for three years, was finally going to be within your reach.

You were beyond excited, but also slightly nervous.

Either way, it would be okay.

- read about me and find my masterlist here :3