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fauustic · 1 year

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a second chance

BRIEF SPOILERS FOR ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE, DESCRIPTION OF REVEALED WORLD-BUILDING.

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

angst. comfort. a bit of fluff. miguel o’hara breaks up with you for your safety, but the universe gives you both a second chance.

warnings: description of violence.

word count: 7358

Somehow, the city seemed even more suffocating out the window of Miguel’s apartment, lights of every color on the spectrum peering into the room as highly advanced cars skimmed by. The millions of people inhabiting such a place had their own problems, but for a moment you wished you were someone else. On their way to work in a tip-top business suit, an old person trying to make the most out of every passing day– anything other than here was more appetizing.

For a moment, you wish you were ignorant to the burden of these powers, the powers Miguel was forced upon and the powers you greedily accepted like a little kid in a candy shop.

It was all too much.

You’ve never seen Miguel so emotional, his knees meeting the ground before you could even shut the door.

There were glimpses of what let through, the broken state of his mind that he so desperately tried to keep together like grains of sand falling through fingers. Late nights he would break down sobbing in your grounding hold, chanting and repeating broken phrases of what had him so upset. Other times these fits you slowly grew accustomed to would be set off from your kindness, actions so deeply rooted in your routine that when it started creating disturbances in your relationship. It was painful, being the glue that held him together.

At the beginning of your relationship, it was something magical. Like one of the romance comics you’d skim through as a teenager, or a romcom movie that had you pining for the lovey-dovey side character.

Miguel was set in his ways no matter what he was faced upon, and making a statement on how serious he felt about you was no different. He’d court you with the utmost respect, swaying you with gifts and flowers that reminded him of you. His affectionate nature came to fruition as you crumbled all his walls in mere months, destroying the years of progress that he enforced to keep others out.

Yet, those nasty habits Miguel formed when he had no-one else slowly peeked through the crevices of your time together. Soft red flags that waved in passing roses he’d give after bad arguments of “your safety,” a bad feeling in your gut whenever Miguel mentioned something along the lines of, “they can’t hurt you too.”

The few months leading to the end of it all was messy, as secrets he precariously kept away from you fell right at your feet. Literally, and figuratively.

Waking into your shared home, all that was on your mind was preparing a meal for you boyfriend who always seemed to come home late. The scent of the apartment washed over your exhaustion-ridded body, cracking your shoulder with a pained hiss.

Distinct woody fragrances wafted throughout the cozy décor, Miguel’s aroma of Sambac jasmine combined with cedar and praline met your senses as a familiar comfort. You wondered if Miguel experienced the same after a long day, your magnolia and orange blossom washes relieving him of the stress of work.

Miguel was overwhelmed, sickened by his work at his lab. You’d always try to help him through his struggles with a massage, which he'd melt under your touch in mere seconds, but the moment you attempted to get him to speak about his troubles he always found an excuse.

So you stopped, having to face rejection so many times by the man you adored put so much wear on your own mental health too.

Getting home a bit earlier, you situated your suit in your over-the-shoulder bag before fully stepping into the apartment. As your entire being was surrounded by the reminder of Miguel, guilt slashed through your consciousness at keeping your own secrets away from him as well. But he was worried sick always, whether it be about his own duties or confusingly about your safety.

Yet, when your sneakers you changed into moments before entering the house slipped onto something haphazardly thrown against tile floor– the façade Miguel tried to feed into to "keep you away from harm" came crashing down.

It felt like an earthquake within your own home, rattling your heart around your ribcage like a feral bird stuck in an aviary. You were quiet, the gasp where sickness soon followed escaped through your stifling fingers wrapped against your mouth. It was terrible, being exposed to the truth in an act caught red-handed.

Curiosity snatched up your brain, the urge to prove what the mask strewn against the floor truly meant. You knew what was bound to come, but you couldn't help but think of a million different excuses in the time you tiptoed through the hallway and met the sight of his scarred back sitting upon the table.

His suit was torn off in a hurry, you assumed, by the state of how the half of his suit was rolled down to his waist and his mask was ripped off and thrown down carelessly. Finally catching him in such a vulnerable position, your heart seized and shriveled just to be rolled out again as his groan in pain cut you away from your thoughts.

You were upset. You know you had no right to be, but as every lie he fabricated to allow the space to have this second life pushed to the forefront of your mind, a choked sob erupted through your throat.

Why did he suffer through this burden alone? Is this what kept him from letting me in? Your brain became muddled with questions, tears clouding your tired gaze. Miguel was in the middle of tightening a gauze against a nasty cut on his forearm, curls damp with sweat and blood, when the choked cry that escaped your lips caught his attention like a spooked animal.

"Miguel," you sobbed harder as he continued to try and make excuses,

"Cariño, it isn't what it looks like–"

Your voice raised as heightened emotions threatened the atmosphere, your grasp on your bag tightening because you had your own secrets and second identity. Why wouldn't honesty escape from your mind and rid the ache in your chest?

You settled on being mad. Being absolutely furious as you reminded yourself of the lies he'd conjured, make you worry about his job as a chemist and even embarrass yourself by going up there and filing a complaint. Knowing it was all an act and you were just a side-character to his play, a mix of disappointment and betrayal fogged your mind. "I'm not blind, O'Hara!"

Stomping back down to swipe up the mask, lens broken and flimsy under your manhandling, you waved it around the air like you were showcasing an audience. Miguel only groaned, pinching his nose as his own frustration clouded his critical thinking. "I know exactly what I'm looking at, Miguel, really? Is this why you act like you're so fucking scared of something?"

He repeated your name this time, cold and calculated. Like you were a villain on the battlefield Spider-man– he– just destroyed earlier, spitting out the criminal's tag like it was worse than the dirt he stepped on. "¡Mierda!" He seethe, standing up only to shuffle closer, but you only stepped away. "Do you think I enjoyed keeping this fucked up secret away from you? No estoy orgullosa de mí misma."

Tell him you have the same problems.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" You cried instead, and his hands reached to cradle your cheeks but you pathetically swiped them away.

Tell him you have to worry about living until the next day for the sake of protecting others.

He was frozen stiff, his hands– claws you've never noticed before, unsheathing in and out of his palms. "I.. was. But I was terrified."

Tell him you're scared of others finding out who you really are too. Tell him you relate, and there was no reason to hide anymore.

But you didn't, instead you wiped away your own tears with sweaty palms, struggling to keep yourself from staring at Miguel's broken expression. He looked like a kicked puppy, his arms reaching out to you subtly to show if you walked into his arms he'd never let you go.

"Scared of what?" You tried your best to sound as furious as before, but all that came was a meek whisper.

Miguel's own tears fell onto the floor, catching your eyes as you stared at his mask in your clutches. "I'm so, so fucking scared of losing you. Tú eres mi vida, the air I breathe. You're the one constant I've had in my life, having it ripped away from me would kill me."

He's finally being open, and for a moment you saw light at the end of the tunnel. A turning point for the man, a second chance at being transparent in your relationship. It gave you the courage to come clean about your own second life and to apologize for your irrational words. But he spoke before you, rough and etched with hurt.

"But I don't know if we can keep this up."

"What?" The trance he was putting you under was shattered.

He laughed at nothing, his stare tinted with animalistic craze. Miguel's claws dug into his curls, "We need to break up."

The mask in your grip fell, a stunned silence settling over the two of you. He had just said he couldn't live without you, how he wouldn't know what to do if you were ripped away from him– and now he's proposing a breakup?

"You, what? Is this some joke?"

He turned away from you, pacing in unsaid panic. You knew he didn't want to do this, yet once he had a plan in his mind you also knew that he'd sacrifice anything to do the "right thing."

Miguel repeats your name the second time that night, your composure thrown off at the lack of pet names he would utter like honey from his tongue. He sounds hollow, dissociated from himself to make this discussion finish quicker. "They, I'm scared– okay? Scared shitless that they're going to come after you." He wheezed out another dry laugh, his bruised knuckles coming to kiss his eyes to blind his vision. The loudness of your voice from before must be giving him headaches. Because you were struggling with the same thing too.

"I can fend for myself–" you began to counter, hands coming in contact with the spider suit in your bag before his booming voice shook you to your core.

"No, no. You don't understand." Sobs choked his words, a flood of tears he couldn't bother to rid staining his cheeks and rolling down his jaw. "You can't! They're coming for me, and the ones I love. And the only one I love is you." Miguel emphasized himself by grazing your chest with a talon, exactly where your heart beat lurched and pattered like a broken down engine. "They will target you, and they will kill you."

Desperate, you were the one now begging for him to walk into your embrace. But he only turned away, his marred back facing you. The image burned itself in your mind.

"Who are they, Miguel? Why, even now, you won't tell me anything?" You sank to your knees, crawling towards him in despair. It couldn't be over.

"Hemos terminado. We're done, over." Miguel's tone steeled over, icy and painful and jarring. "Get out of my house."

He stood there like a statue, one arm holding himself only for his free hand to be pinching the bridge of his nose. Miguel didn't move as you quieted down your wails, and storm through the house to take what was yours and what you needed.

No words left your lips as you would steal a glance at his unmoving figure, the only giveaway that he was even breathing was his wavering composure. His attention stayed fixated on a corner of his apartment, head turned away from you the entire time.

You didn't care that you were still leaving so much of your stuff as your legs tripped over themselves to finally leave his apartment. You had more than enough money to live on your own, to buy the barebones like a toothbrush and necessities all over again.

Miguel O'Hara would now be a thing of the past, and all of the things tied to him could burn down in the apartment he held you.

Your senses could tell that once your sneakers squeaked down the hallway of his apartment, thinking you would never be able to notice– Miguel's knees met the floor of his apartment with a heavy thud.

Fighting the amount of bags in your hands while simultaneously pushing the button of the first floor repetitively, the last memory you have of Miguel was his unfiltered sobs filling the apartment floor.

☆

With time, you found yourself.

Whether it be from the new body wash you had bought for yourself or the different commute you began to take for work, a niche engineering project you've stumbled upon after the breakup– and it coincidentally helps you test materials that you could incorporate into your suit. The constant reminder of the man you brought to your knees didn't hurt that much anymore. Progress was being made, or so you thought.

Every time your back met a brick wall from the force of some outer-dimensional monster turned sentient who all of a sudden wants to get back at the human race, the thud that echoed from the impact would knock you right back to the apartment filled with sweet praline and magnolia. His sobs trailing behind a screech of pain from your enemies, causing hesitation in your combat.

The cheers below you snapped you out of your daze, civilians chanting for your victory or screaming in fear as they ran away. After the breakup, you've found yourself with the leniency of being able to suit up whenever your heart desires because you weren't keeping a secret away from another anymore.

You bit your cheek in frustration, upset at how you handled the situation because you had done the same and you were mad at him for doing exactly what you were doing. All these months have passed, and you still can't help but feel guilty.

But it's in the past now.

Another screech met your ears, back shivering as a chill washed over your spine. With the fast reaction speed you were able to build, you swung out of the way to another rooftop before the alienistic creature side slammed you. The web slinger you have tinkered with enhanced your ability to shoot out organic webs at a consistent pace, working as fine as a charm when you swing back towards the vicious monster to crunch your knuckles sickeningly into its slimy flesh. It glitched disgustingly.

It withered away with ease, falling off the skyscraper it had leaped upon in an attempt to finish you off. Throwing a device onto the being, it was trapped into a vibrant hold it couldn’t get out of.

Your soft cream-white suit glistened with its green blood, covering the black trim you painstakingly painted in the dead of night.

The appearance you kept up as a Spider-person upgraded with time because you didn't exactly mind the limelight. Not staying in the shadows anymore since you didn't have to worry about O’Hara finding out about you, your suit became something you adorned with confidence. It was a part of you now, as cheers sounded out from below at your entertaining brawl with a slime monster that totally wants to eradicate the city.

But yeah, go ahead and cheer you poor ignorant souls.

You never really came up with a name, but as you began incorporating little trinkets on your newly added combat satchel like a stray feather and charms of swans because a little girl said "your suit reminded her of one," the news generously graced you with the title "Spider Swan." On some bad days on the broadcast, though, the name would easily become a tomato show for jokes like "baby bird couldn't flap its wings," or "someone left the nest a bit too early."

It was infuriating.

The headgear installed in your mask allowed you to pick up on police waves, listening into calls and urgent matters so you could have a better idea of where you were needed and how you could help.

It rang through the noise of webs slinging from a glass window to a neon billboard, the police urgently requesting backup on a city street not that far away from you. It was describing a creature just like the one you obliterated, slimy and green and totally not from your universe. A scream pierced the radio waves, encouraging a sense of a little more urgency in your movements.

Becoming more involved with this line of work, you began to understand Miguel's worries. Corrupt organizations would pray for your downfall, threatening everyone you should probably hold dear to your heart as your spurred shoes met the slide of their faces. Other times skilled criminals would form alliances with one another and try to dig up your true identity as a way of blackmail.

It never worked and they're now where they need to be, but you suppose after you hear so many threats you begin to take it with nonchalance– and suddenly it isn't an empty threat– the panic that overwhelmed O’Hara was perfectly reasonable.

The beautiful lights of the underground city lit up against your lenses like a wildfire, a visual feast you’ve never been able to get enough of. Swinging throughout the tight spaces of Nueva York, you neared closer to where you were needed. A gunshot veered past you, presumably from a dumb cop, and you had to flip in the air and roll onto the street before picking up speed again.

Hissing out in pain, a quip escaped your lips when you neared the police force. “Did anyone here train to do their job? The last time I was here you almost shot me in my good eye–” Before you could even finish your sentence, two rookies pulled their guns in a defensive stance. With a heavy sigh, you easily subdued them with your webs before swinging into action.

The monster looked as if it was already struggling, turned away from your figure and groaning in its mother tongue, oozing with a gross slime that littered and disrupted the flow of traffic down below. It was relatively larger than the one you had just captured and suddenly the device in your hand feels a little too small. Nonetheless, as the villain flailed lazily, the heel of your foot met the crunching sensation from one of its many eyes. You almost gagged as it exploded onto your white suit, but the navy blue lenses meeting your contrasting white made time stop. It wasn’t until one of the many tentacles belonging to the creature yanked your ankle– soaring you violently towards a skyscraper– that the trance from the one you had been avoiding was interrupted with a shock.

“You–”

He had been trying to find you like a fox finding a bunny, you knew that. Waiting in the shadows, you always see him stalking beyond the darkness. And now you’re right here, finally coexisting in the same space after months of a cat-mouse game. “Can’t exactly talk here,” You yelled, deepening your voice in a pitch that made you cringe. “Let’s put a raincheck on what’s going on here and focus on the weird dimensional-octopus that’s currently beating your ass.” Spider-Man, with a groan of frustration that was just so familiar, noticeably squinted in your direction that had you sweating bullets as he right hooked the head of the monstrosity.

You knew everything about him. He knew nothing about you.

“I’m supposed to be the one and only Spider-Man of this–” He dodged a tentacle aiming for the head, only to unsheathe his claws and start ripping into the flesh of the villain. The smell, something similar to the stench of Sulphur mixed with radioactive chemicals. It burned your enhanced senses, tipping your balance before you caught yourself.

“Well obviously, you’re not.” Steadying your emotions, the calmness of your tone contrasted his irritability. “You know it’s not impossible–” Webs meeting tentacles, the screech of the glitching excrescence interrupting your words before quickly silencing it with another heel to the eyes. Pointing up and then at the watch around his wrist, you gave him a pointed look and a shrug. Nothing was said, but at the exasperated howl at your accusatory gesture– he obviously understood the unsaid.

“I’ve been speaking to you for a minute–” Another punch. “And I’m already finding you the most annoying out of all of them–”

You rolled your eyes, webbing the tentacles of the monster together like shoelaces stuck together. “Gee, thanks tough guy.” No response.

The monstrosity the two of you had been grappling against grew more frantic with its movements, growing more aware of its losing battle by the moment. With defeat in tow, the tentacles split into multiple. Green juice splattering excessively over the city blocks, it screamed horrendously in pain. The dimensional monster was imploding into itself, never allowing it the chance to return back to its universe.

Being so close to the glitching, dramatic death of the slime monster– Spider-Man pushed the heaving half-corpse’s weight off his own in a flurry. Always having to be quick on your feet in this field, you webbed the monster in the air so it could hang uselessly– the death of the anomaly would not be able to interfere with anything amongst Nueva York.

Being on your own despite having so much at your finger-tips, the separation between you and O’Hara made things difficult. You were on your own despite being at the core of everything.

Head buzzing with spider senses, your attention snapped towards the man that is tangled with your entire being– a useless game of push-and-pull that neither one of you are giving into.

Spider-Man miscalculated the leap away, his claws trying to find purchase in the metal beams of the building. But something was wrong, the slime running down his forearms ruining his suit’s resistance.

The structure O’Hara clung to was threatening to crumble due to the constant strain of the battle, doused in the greasy muck that pixelated and discolored by each passing moment the villain was close to combusting entirely. Before you knew it, the construction of the building that was so complexly fabricated was coming down and shifting into rubble on the borough down below.

Your limbs began moving on its own, your mind racing into a frenzy of saving the people down below and the man you revolved around like the sun and moon– unknowing forces pushing the two of you together but never touching.

Until now.

The collision lasted only seconds, but to you it was as if the eclipse was forever. Skin sizzling with nerves you didn’t even know you could feel ignited aflame, the pads of your feet coming into contact with the building’s crumbling walls– diving into spaces and using the webs you shot as a catapult.

Your hold came into contact with a body before you knew it, warm and intimate like you were back in his home. Tucked away in the softness of his duvet, your arms wrapped around his skin like an anchor against the raging waves. Memories came flooding in, lightheaded with your spider senses crying out in danger against the puzzle pieces that placed O’Hara on a pedestal. The first rose he gave you floated through the crevices of your brain, an astray petal landing softly on a memory you forced down.

The radioactive spider that latched its fangs into your skin on the night you met O’Hara, pain mixing with anticipation.

It's like the city lights grew more vibrant at the realization, soda blue mixing with dragon fruit pink– lime green swirling with sunny yellow. Everything fits together. This was how it was supposed to go, despite all the pain.

Strength you’ve built up allowed yourself to heave him onto your shoulder, breathing heavily at his weight crushing yours. But determination and adrenaline pushed you further, swinging through the shadowed city until you found a safe perch– laying him down gently. Time was running out, but you had to do what needed to be done.

Ripping on the tattered mask upon your face, you scooped up his head into a soft grasp. Right hand behind his neck and the other leaning the back of his head towards your unearth identity, his lenses tiredly widened at the abrupt reveal.

Tears you didn’t know you had in you– not shedding a tear ever since the day the two of you broke up– flooded your eyes and rolled down your sliced skin. Salt mixed with flesh, the pain kept you wide awake and aware.

“Still the most annoying one you ever met?” You couldn’t help but try to ease the tension in the atmosphere, yet failing with obvious reason.

O’Hara whispered your name like a blessing, claw upon his chest meeting the dirt on your cheek in the softest graze he’s ever bestowed against you. “You– you’re here.”

“I’m here.” You echoed, resting your forehead against his own. His suit caressed against your skin, and the world stopped. All that you could hear was his soft wheezing of breath and your own, and suddenly everything felt okay.

“¿Cómo puede ser eso?” He muttered aloud, “How can this be? How are you here?” he became a mumbling mess as nervousness clutched his rationality. O’Hara’s hand swiping against your jaw shifted to the small of your back in a hug. It was like nothing had ever happened, and you were about to fall in the ravine of his presence before a ear-blasting trill of beams breaking pulled you back into reality. You stood up, rolling your mask back on before looking down below. A miracle was going to have to happen for everything to turn out okay, but you were willing to take that risk. He called your name, reaching the hand not clutching his side out in desperation. “Don’t do this– you can’t change–”

You kept your back turned, shooting your webs onto a piece of rubble falling for leverage. “Don’t you dare fucking move.” Was the last thing you said before you plunged into the chaos that was unravelling Nueva York from the inside out.

☆

The abrasion of concrete rubbing against your skin carved into your skin, until it didn’t. Dust threatened to enter your lungs as you weaved in and out of obstacles created from the fissures of collapsing high-rises, bodies clasping onto you like a lifeline– until that ended as soon as you started as well.

Everything made sense finally, and then it stopped. Paused as soon as it strengthened, disentangling memories and causing fragmentation.

Lips met yours, the firm grasp of palms against your hips. “Cariño, you don’t understand how much I’ve thought about my mouth on yours since we last met.” A familiar voice whispered into your ear, kneading into your flesh as each syllable rolled out lazily. But the warm breath fanning the side of your face never came, and the wisps of hair that met your forehead never tickled you.

The touch of an elevator button against your index ignited your senses, bags dragging down your tired form. The thud of knees meeting tile followed, before ending with sobs echoing in the corners of your mind.

Darkness enveloped your mind, the vibrancy of neon lights that grew so comforting never came.

Cold metal met your limbs, grazing your chest and the beeping of a scan met your ears. Orange hues painted the darkness for just a moment, before vanishing like a hallucination. Little bits and pieces of words would echo throughout the chamber you’ve found yourself in– “When do you think,” – “¡Mierda! Are you even doing your job correcting?!” – “Let me take over,” “You have no idea what you are even looking at, Miguel!” – “But you do?!”

It was like this for a while, until the words grew closer and the colors overlapping pitch black spread like webs.

The first thing you felt was a weight on your leg, thigh trapped under the pressure of something breathing and shifting ever so slightly. The covers lying atop your form was nothing close to the softness you were used to, instead the scratchy fabric brushed against your skin and the thin gown you felt as you twitched.

Your muscles ached, both out of stiffness and the strain of what you remember: the buildings collapsing around you, rubble piercing your skin. Your throat felt dry, the lights overhead intruded against your eyelids. The metal sensation from before, cold and icy, trailed along your arms as you woke.

Peeling your gaze open, your spider senses went into overdrive. It feels as if your body had sunken into the pit of an ocean, drowning and heavy with salt water flooding your pores.

The first to catch your eye was the spider-shaped robotic machinery tending to your wounds, scabbed and bandaged with care. Your fists curled into the bed you rested against; the smell of chemicals embedded within the fabric burned at your nostrils. The luminescence of the lamps on the bedside counter were dimmed low as your gaze adjusted to the sensory intake, breathing deeply in a way to calm yourself.

This place was nothing you’ve ever seen before, but with an abundance of spider-themed gadgetry adorned along the wall and medical systems– alongside the hyper-technologically advanced computer interfaces connected to the tubed legs of the metallic spiders accessing the wounds you had, you assumed it must have been the Spider Society HQ you’ve heard in passing. The building above the greenery beyond Nueva York, a vision you were only able to get glimpses from riding the train.

Holding your breath, you looked at the weight atop your thigh.

A tuft of combed-back brown curls met your stare before tracing the few strands hanging delicately over his forehead. His eyes were fluttered shut, eyebrows furrowed as if he was having a bad dream. Deep stress lines you desperately wanted to thumb away rested in-between his brow, leading you to the circles under his closed eyes. Deep and prominent against olive skin, O’Hara was now in a slightly modified, upgraded version of his navy blue suit that had none of the previous damage from the battle you stumbled upon.

His head lay against your thighs heavily, breathing in your scent deeply as he dozed off. Every few snores, he’d stutter in his sleep as if he was about to shock himself awake– but he easily settled back in the softness of your muscle after his hand upon your stomach would grab the flesh of your stomach softly.

You took a moment to study him. There’s been a few times you’ve sighted him in the streets, usually his mask covering his identity always. This is the first time you’ve truly had him so close and the realization of it all made your palms sweat and your stomach churn. The usual quips and your homemade spider-mask could not save you now, you were in the den of a lion’s. He quite literally had you in his grasp.

The knowledge you had of this place was limited, not being a part of the Spider Society because you had to avoid him– and now that everything has been revealed in regards to both of your secrets you had no idea what to do from here. Not like you could do much right now though, your bones feel fragile and your muscles feel weak. How long have you been holed up in this cage?

A groan escaped O’Hara’s lips, a frown contorting his features. Under the spell of sleep, he looked much more soft. The rigidness of his stoicism couldn’t plague his expression as dreams consumed him, but as his frown deepened and the lines between his eyebrows became more prominent,, you couldn’t help but slide your hand underneath his. Squeezing it, his scarred fingers subconsciously intertwined with yours without a moment’s hesitation.

A smile bloomed onto your lips at the sight, your heart running a marathon at the closeness you were allowed. All the anger festered up from that night ebbed away with time and understanding– having the role as a Spiderperson since the split made you candidly comprehend the stress and dedication one has to have. With the experience, the hardness O’Hara had on himself and others suddenly made sense, and as the confusion cleared– love remained. The man within your reach finally, has always been in the corners of your mind, memories unearthed by every little thing in your life. You may have changed your route to work, but then you started to pass his favorite restaurant. You may have changed your body wash, but the scent of praline underlined the floral smell of ocean breeze.

He was always there, one way or another.

Silence enveloped the room, minus the soft beeping and the slight hiss that escaped you whenever one of the freaky looking medical spiders zapped skin back into place. Yet, as you sat there quietly while looking outside the window, tracing flying cars with your gaze or simply admiring the amount of green you’ve possibly ever seen before– a shaky voice met your rhythmic, soft breathing.

Your name was the first thing he said, disbelief lacing his tone before both his hands scooped up the clutch you held onto him with delicacy, like he was hiding away a treasure in the palm of his hands. “Can’t believe anything any of this–”

“How… how long was I out, O’Hara?” Your voice didn’t sound like your own, fragile and meek. It made you feel pathetic– being able to save so many people in less than two minutes and suddenly you couldn't even bring yourself to speak. Without a word, he reached over to the bedside table to fiddle with a water bottle and a straw. He set the straw to your lips, grabbing your chin to take the straw.

He sighed, tutting like a worried mother hen. “Don’t use your voice so much, cisne. Drink.” It’s been so long since you’ve been waited on hand-and-foot that it almost made you annoyed, but you did what he said because you are bedridden after all. And in a way, it made you feel like he cared. The way O’Hara’s thumb swiped your lower lip when water trickled down your chin was calculated, as if he was trying to embed the feeling into his brain again.

“You had been slipping in-and-out of consciousness over the past week and a half.” He murmured, leaning into your space as your free hand patted on his chest to indicate you had enough water. A soft frown threatened at his lips, worry evident in his gaze.

Coughing from choking down so much water, the question tumbled from your mind without second-thinking. “And how long have you been here?” You felt your cheeks hearten due to the lack of filter, but a part of you really wanted to know.

Your embarrassment transferred to him as soon as the question hung into the hair, his gaze ripping away from your own. His frown wobbled at getting caught within the act, vulnerability showing through for once between the amount of time the two of you have shared. “I’ve..” Having an internal battle with himself, he exhaled with stress in defeat. “Been here since you got here.” Your eyes lit up, and he only groaned at your obvious excitement.

“You were worried.”

“I was– I was not worried– dios mío–”

You sat up further on the pillows behind you, pointing into his chest as he leaned further away in lighthearted mortification of finally having to talk about his feelings. “O’Hara! You were! You were worried!”

“If I admit it will you stop repeating yourself–”

“Yes,”

O’Hara’s brow furrowed as if he was in physical pain, leaning back into the chair he sat right beside your bed. His hands still stuck firming around your sweating ones, his head leaned back in exasperation. “I was worried. I am always worried about you. I was scared shitless sitting there on that ledge while you dived into the unknown.”

Breath stuttering, you held the air within your lungs for a long second. It felt like a dream, having the Miguel O’Hara hunched over with his hands around your own like a delicate doll, flushed and embarrassed because he finally has to admit his feelings. The urge to kiss him overwhelmed you, and if you had the strength to lean forward and do so, you would. But exhaustion was dwelled deep into your limbs, and you didn’t want to overexert yourself.

“And, and– stop calling me that. Jesus, it’s like hearing a teacher addressing me.”

This caught your attention as his scarlet eyes met yours, swirling with a flurry of emotions that screamed of intensity. “Calling you what?” You asked, trying to sound indifferent when truly you were just teasing him. But he was more than observant– and when he caught you trying to play him like you were a guitarist and he was your bass. This only riled him up more.

“O’Hara?! I’m Miguel to you, Miguel.” His hands tightened around your own as he repeated his name twice, almost like a plea. “Stop making me act like a child, I have a reputation to uphold–”

“You became O’Hara the day you broke up with me.” Low blow, and quite petty– but you wanted to test if he truly had changed.

The rant you cut off halted without another word, O’Hara’s forehead meeting your thigh as if you just slapped him atop the head when you knocked sense into him. “I didn’t know what else to do.” His voice choked up almost instantaneously, his emotions as high as ever like he just processed you were truly here and talking to him. “And look at where we ended up.” The latter didn’t sound like he was speaking to you, more like he was stuck in his head someplace far away. “Your safety was what mattered the most to me– and back then these people, these people threatened to remove you from here. Wipe you off the plane of this universe like you never even happened.”

You were silent as his hands kneaded into your thighs gently, fingertips trailing up your stomach like he was trying to remember every part of your body again unconsciously. “I didn’t want to lose you, and for the longest time I pushed it away as much as I could until I couldn’t anymore.”

Your brain clicked and churred, gears rolling back in place in your post-coma fog. “.. Is that why you were so stressed, so different throughout the end of our relationship?”

Miguel sighed heavily, tears threatening to fall as if an entire world was lifted off his shoulders. “.. Yes. Yes, I’m not proud of it. I’m really not proud of myself.” He repeated, confessing his sins like you were the pastor and he was a sinner. “I just was terrified for you to be gone.”

“.. I’m tired of having so much loss in my life.” It was barely above a whisper, but you heard it.

His shoulders raised, stammering as if he was holding himself back. Without a word, you shrugged your hand from his own. Scarlet gaze meeting yours in surprise, fangs on display unknowingly as his mouth slacked– your arms raised towards him and instantly he allowed himself to melt into your embrace.

“I didn’t know.” Was all you said.

“I didn’t want you to know,” He murmured against your cheek, breath fanning your ear and arms meeting your back strongly. Just like your dreams. Miguel’s words trailed off anxiously, before concluding with something you haven’t heard in a long time, “mi cielo.”

Tears soaked your shoulder sleeve, but you didn’t care. “But I want you to know everything now. I want you to be a part of my life now, we can get through it all–”

A small frown met your lips, heart clenching at his words. “I, I can’t–

“Mi pajarito, please,” Miguel breathed in deeply, “I really, really have missed you.” His hold surrounding you tightened subtly. The buzz of floating cars whizzed by as silence enveloped the both of you, the noise of watches sounding throughout the hallway kept you grounded. Drilled it into your head that this was truly happening, that you’re here with Miguel with both of your secrets unveiled. Under each other's protection.

“Miguel, I.. I can’t be hurt again.” You wanted him, wanted him more than anything. But something snatched your heart up and forced it into an aviary. It raged against the railings of its captor, fluttering with desperation. You were scared of rejection again, the repressed emotions flooding your senses and making you sob. Miguel held you as you cried and continued to do so, tracing shapes into your skin like all those months ago. “Please don’t leave me again.”

The plea escaped you through tears, Miguel promised and promised and promised as he swiped away the wetness amongst your cheeks, his cold exterior he kept affront during your relationship crashed down in waves as his own tears pressed into your skin. “I’m so sorry. Please, please like you gave me– give me a second chance.”

His fingers trailed up, grasping the nape of your neck while the other caressed your cheek with a shakiness you’ve never seen before. Always so confident, it reminded you of the brokenness you witnessed on the last night you were together. But this felt genuine, the looming fear and despair hanging over his head all those months ago were fanned away with time. This was Miguel’s honest attempt at vulnerability.

You stared into his tearful eyes, a smile playing at your lips as your hands sat upon his own holding your face. Leaning in, your nose brushed his as your eyes fluttered shut. Your lips, chapped and cold, met his contrasting warm and refined touch. Miguel presumably did not care, as his fingers intertwined with your hair and grasped your chin with a sparked need. The kiss was short and sweet, as the two of you breathed into each other’s mouth. Relishing in the moment, you pushed forward again as desperation seeped into your rationality.

Your hands moved from his own to his shoulders, pulling him deeper into the kiss and he just consumed whatever space you gave him. Miguel was aware of every muscle he pushed against you, but as the both of you clawed into each other’s flesh Miguel’s resolve to stay gentle ebbed away as his spit swapped with yours. It was if you were a struggling flower, and he was both the air and sun and water combined. He was everything you needed, and he was everything you wanted. To you, he was the sun and you were the moon– seeing one another in passing but never touching until today.

But to him, you were the stars that littered the sky. A comet passing by, beautiful and alluring. You were in each neon sign of Nueva York, where he stared a little too hard and could see a figure of you that was constructed from the little imagination he had left.

He saw you in the headquarters he overworked himself in to forget you. He saw you in the shadows of the city he protected. Miguel saw you in everything he believed in, yet everything he went against simultaneously.

But he’ll learn to make exceptions with himself and the rules he place, because as his fangs dig into your lower lip and the noise that erupts from your throat wraps him around your finger– Miguel tries to understand how he ever let you go.

“Miguel, you kiss me once and you’re already trying to bite me–” You begin to scold in your little way, until Miguel shushes you with another kiss to the lips.

“It’s all out of love, cariño.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara comfort #miguel o'hara angst #x gender neutral reader #miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #across the spider-verse #across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman 2099 #x angst #x comfort #comfort #angst

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mae-gi-writes · 1 year

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rile you up | lee Minho (xo kitty)

You’re Minho’s latest form of entertainment and he cannot just get enough of riling you up.

Genre: romcom, slice of life, school!au, minho is a little dick

———

“Fuck you, Minho.”

“What a ray of sunshine you are on this fine day.”

You grit your teeth together, almost grind them to nothing, and repeat the words with even more conviction, “I said fuck you.”

”Watch that tongue sunshine, might fall out if you’re not careful,” Minho’s grin just widens at the way your eyes have narrowed into slights. If looks could kill, he would’ve been shot int he head twice, revived, and shot once again. But thankfully for him, your narrow-eyed stare is nothing scarier than a cute kitten ready to take her claws out.

It’s a boring, rainy and muddy Wednesday afternoon and you really don’t want to be here, in English Lit, listening to professor Lau drone on and on about love and friendship in the verses of Lord Byron’s poems and how, if you read in-between the lines and analyze the intonations, the words, the onomatopieas, you’ll find a much deeper definition of Lord Byron’s feelings.

And Minho sitting right beside you is not making it much easier.

“You’ve got a pimple growing on your left cheek,” Minho squints at your face as you turn away, cupping your face with your hands as your eyes find the lock tick, tick, ticking at the far end of the classroom. Thirty more minutes of this torture.

“Can you just stop hyper-analyzing me like I’m some kind of lab rat?I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” You snap back.

“Woah,” Minho sighs before he shakes his head, “you really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“And you, my friend, need to mind your own business.”

“Minho and Y/N.”

Professor Lau’s voice causes both of them to wince, physically, before looking up to see the said old man with bespectacled glasses, the book of poems in his hand and his eyebrows raised as though he expected better.

If you’re being honest, you really do enjoy Professor Lau’s classes, normally. Normally.

But not today. Today, you’re having a completely off day. You woke up late, you couldn’t sleep at all last night, and all the coffee had run out by the time you’d made it to campus. Your grades are suffering and you’re currently trying to ploughing through all the assignments without drowning.

And the worst of it all, you miss home.

You miss your mom. You miss your family, your brother with whom you would fight with at every occasion and play Mario kart with. You missed your grandma, your aunts, the food they cooked, the shared laughter, the smiles…

You’re in so deep in your thought process that you haven’t even registered that Professor Lau is telling you off until he calls for your name that brings you back to attention.

“—yes?” Your eyes flit up to Professor Lau’s and a wave of emotion suddenly takes its toll on you. You try hard to blink back the sudden burn of tears at the corner of your eyes, crawling up your throat.

“I was expecting better of your behaviour, miss Y/N,” he says, pointedly looking between you and Minho with pursed lips, “in my office after class. You’re up for cleaning duty.”

Great. That’s exactly what you need. After everything.

Fucking. Great.

———

“These pretty hands cannot clean,” these are Minho’s first words as the rest of the class files out to leave you two alone on cleaning duty and as you had predicted, there are papers all over the place, test papers and pens and pencils, “I’ve taken care of my hands all these years. I am not ruining it just to clean a classroom.”

“You are so freaking dramatic,” you roll your eyes, standing up to find the cleaning supplies that are stacked at the back of the class, in the storage closet, “let’s just get this over with and we can both move on with our lives and I won’t have to see you again for the rest of this week.”

“What’s up your arse, dude?” Minho follows you, one hand leaning on the doorframe as you start pulling out the duster, the cleaning rags and the shiny new broom that Professor Lau is currently obsessed with, “you’ve been acting really weird.”

“What?” You scoff, proceeding to hand him the broom because you know he’s never going to be the one on his hands and knees cleaning the floors, “I’m not. I’m just tired.”

“No, you’ve been acting off all week. You’re all snappy, your dark circles are so prominent you look like a walking zombie and you keep asking me to go fuck myself,” Minho rolls his eyes, “also, how do you use this?”

“Jesus chri—“ you make a move towards him, grabbing the hand holding the broom while struggling to circle his back and grabbing the other, “you keep that thing steady, then you brush the dirt from this one—“ you grip his hand and shuffle it over the floor in a sweeping motion, “until it goes into the pan. Got it?”

It's only then you realize the warmth emanating from Minho's back. If you move a little closer, you could press your cheek against him. He smells like something citrus and fresh mint and man.

Somehow, it makes goosebumps explode all over your skin. You step back abruptly, noting the heat searing through your palms where you had touched him just as he turns to face you, "you seem to be a natural at this. Why don't you do it?"

"I'm gonna take care of the floors," you're glad for the distraction that comes in the form of the rag, for there's a knot of heat in the middle of your chest and you're not quite sure how to deal with it, "let's just get this over with."

There's a long moment of silence as both of you focus on your tasks, which helps to calm down your nerves. Somehow, the sound of Minho's brush is conforting to hear.

Until he speaks up, "so you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Why should I tell you, of all people?"

"Because there's nobody else around and seeing you all mopey makes me actually feel bad for you."

You wipe off the dusty corner by the teacher's desk, "Do you have any ounce of decency in you somewhere?"

"Not when you're involved," Minho snickers.

You whip around, throw the balled-up rag at him and smirk in satiafaction when it hits him square in the head, "ow--what the fuck, Y/N?!"

Glad that you managed to piss him off, you turn and continue, "oops sorry. My hand slipped."

It's not ultimately Minho's fault that you're more anxious, more easily irritated than usual. So you can't really take it out on him. But he doesn't make it any easier either.

Thankfully, the rest of the cleanup goes smoothly as butter and he parts ways with the excuse that he needs to go find his aupposed lunch date, to which you merely rolles your eyes and headed for the dining hall alone.

It doesn't normally bother you to be alone. On the contrary, you relish in those silent moments of freedom without having to hear an earful from Kitty and Q, or having Yuri complain about yet another one of her life's family miseries.

But as you find a vacant seat by the door, you can't help but suddenly feel a little small in a room full of people who seem to be right where they should be. And something in your heart constricts and clenches so hard it causes a soft sob to die at the back of your throat.

You grip your spoon a little tighter and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel the tangy taste of blood.

It feels lonely.

------

You're kind of sick.

Not physically sick.

Just sick of hearing christmas carols ringing all over campus. Sick of smelling hot chocolate in the air, sick of seeing luggages being dragged on vacation.

Sick of being here.

For an international student, returning home for Christmas was never an option. The airplane ticket is too expensive for your familt to afford, and you wouldn't ever impose that on them. But if you had to admit to that selfish part of you; you wished you were privileged enough to get to fly out at every chance you got.

Alas, that is not the kind of life that you live.

So when the doorbell rings at seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, you're more than surprised to find none other than Minho standing by your door with his hands in his pockets.

"Wh--Yeah? What do you want?" You frown upon noticing the lack of luggage behind him. Knowing Minho, he packed like a diva.

He hums and peeks inside your flat, causing you to shuffle into his peripheral vision, "what do you want Minho?"

"You're not packed."

"Wise observation, smartass."

He brushes past you and strides inside, taking his shoes off casually by the door, "why not?"

"None of your business."

He throws you an exasperated look, "you gonna keep being like this?"

"I don't know, are you gonna keep annoying the hell out of me?"

He can't help the grin that spreads over his face at that, "you're fun to mess around with."

"Well for your information, it's not fun. Not for me," you don't hesitate to walk over before grabbing onto his arm and tugging over to the door, "really. I'm fine. Now leave."

"I'm surprised you're not going home for Christmas," he continues as you're pushing him out of the door.

It stings, "why?"

"International kids usually do," he folds his arms, proceeds to lean into the open doorway and you got another whiff of his scent, "what? Daddy didn't want to pay for you this time?"

"My dad died. Two years ago."

There's surprise first, that flashes through his eyes. Then realization slowly dawns.

There’s some kind of weight in your chest. Like your heart has just broke.

"What?" You laugh but it's dry and twisted, "cat got your tongue? Too shocked to speak? Poor little Y/N, who doesn't have a father to pay off her credit card bills, right?"

"I didn't know--"

"Of course you didn't. You never asked."

"I'm--" he swallows, looks away, "—sorry."

You scoff, "don't. It's okay. I've been over it for the past two years."

It's not what he says but rather the way he looks at you that makes your insides shrivel up with dread and fear and the idea that he'll never look at you the same way ever again.

Because the thing is, no matter how much Mjnjo teases you, bullies you into oblivion, you do enjoy the attention, the banter. It's almost as if it's better than just being ignored altogether.

And amidst all his teasing and his annoying personaity, there are bite and smidges of Minho's kindness smattered in-between, flecks of tenderness that makes your heart soar, your brrath

To have such a man look down at you, pity you, makes you want to be sick.

"Y/N--" you cut him off before he can even try to make it up to you, "it's fine, Minho. Just drop it--"

"Wha--I said I was sorry, don't give me that look--"

"I said drop it!" You swerve around on him, anger bubbling from deep within your chest as blood pulses through, rushes through you, "for one goddamn second, can you just leave me alone?! I don’t need this—this constant bullying of your part! It’s tiring and it’s just so goddamn frustrating and humiliating so will you just stop?!”

The shocked silence that follows your sudden outburst is heavy. If the tension had been thick before, it’s now so hard you can barely cut it with a knife. You try to regulate your staccato breaths, try not to let your body take over your mind as you focus on breathing in, breathing out, breathing in. Breathing out. Just like that.

Calm. Like water. Like you’re a river that never stops.

“Just go, Minho,” your words are bitter. You can barely look his way, an overwhelming surge of irritation, guilt and hurt swimming through you.

Thankfully, the young man seems just as surprised as you are and leaves without even a backward glance. That’s when you finally cave in and allow your legs to crumble to your floor. Pressing your head against the door, your body instantly gives into the sadness that crumbles through you like used up tissue, soaking in all the tears that are suddenly cascading down your cheeks without restraint.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

———

“Minho, I’m really sorry about my behaviour.”

You stare.

Your reflection stares back.

Shit. This doesn’t feel right. You close your eyes, exhale a soft breath, and open them once more only to find a set of familiar brown eyes gazing back at you.

It’s just the day after Christmas and though the majority of your friends were still off campus, you’re well aware that a certain Korean young man has decidedly stayed back because of his mother’s offshoot shooting commercial.

However, you still hadn’t gotten the guts to go back and ask him for a formal apology yet. Did you even need one when he’d been the one prodding you with a stick like he would with a nest of aggressive bees?

Oh well. You decided you’d be the bigger person and make the first move. As always.

So you look back to your reflection with renewed determination, take a deep breath before forcing the words out, “I am really sorry for my shitty behaviour, Minho, I should’ve—no,” you shake your head, start again and clasp your hands together for good measure, “I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way, I was hurt—no. God. I sound so pathetic.” You can’t help but curse at the mirror.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. And you try once more, this time adding a small smile.

“I’m really sorry for everything that I said. I was being a bit insensitive and wasn’t in the right headspace—“ you break off with a frustrated snarl, “god! Why is it so hard to apologize to the dude?!”

“The dude’s standing right here.”

Shocked, you swivel around only to find none other than the said question in person leaning against your doorway, eyebrows raised and a semblance of a smirk lining his lips.

“M—Minho,” you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a stuttering goldfish. Quickly, your hands smooth down your sweater, hiding them in the big bell sleeves as your eyes find everything — anything, to get off his face, “what—what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

You’re still not looking, deciding that the faint crack in your dorm room is much more interesting.

Minho’s footsteps approach as he strides close, close enough that you get a whiff of his expensive cologne and restrain yourself from sighing out loud.

The bastard smells too good, you feel like crying.

“Why?” He scoffs, “isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Fine,” you’re still not looking at him, which is why you almost jump out of your skin the moment you feel the gentlest graze of his fingertips at your jaw.

“Wha—“ you stutter, eyes flashing up to his on instinct.

Dark brown meets swirls of maroon. You almost lose your breath.

In the mid-morning light with sunshine falling over half of his face, Minho looks like he’d just walked out of some fashion magazine.

“What are you…doing?” You manage to murmur out. Barely.

It’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, in your personal space, looking a little too dashing for his own good.

“You’re right. I was being a selfish dick to you two days ago,” his grip on your chin is firm, his dark eyes even firmer, “so I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”

You laugh, “wait—is Minho actually apologizing? To me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“But this is a legendary moment,” you fake a mocking gasp at him, “I should record this right now.”

“Don’t make me regret it, Y/N.”

Chuckling, your eyes crinkle up as you allow yourself to roam over his features, “okay okay, I’ll stop.”

Minho fidgets and doesn’t say anything back. Weird, considering that he has a comeback for everything. You feel his hand drop from your chin as he takes a step back, lips pressed together and face looking like he’s uncomfortable being here.

Do you make him uncomfortable? It’s not a sight you’re used to seeing. Something tugs at your heartstrings but you try and ignore it.

“What is it?” You ask instead.

“There is…” his eyes dart away, “something I need to tell you.”

“About?”

His hand drops. Instantly, cold swoops in.

“About me. And you.”

You squint, “Minho I swear, if this is one of your stupid jokes again—“

“I like you.”

You blink.

He gazes back. His eyes. They’re gazing straight at you. Focused. Intense. Hot.

So hot it causes a flame to burst in your chest.

Wait…your mind backtracks, what?

“You—“ your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more, "I'm sorry--what?"

His eyes answer in his stead. Dark orbs swirling with a depth that makes your skin explode in goosebumps. You realize, all too soon, how close you are, how -- if you want -- you can diminish the space between just with one single step forward.

"I like you," he says it honestly. Somehow, you relish in the way he says it. Clear and transparent. No inside games, no beating around the bush, "maybe more than a little."

You sense a but. "And?"

He rolls his eyes, "and maybe I just don't know how to show it."

"You mean, acting like a five year old boy who bullies his crush for fun because he likes her?"

"Something like that."

"Okay," you drag out the word in hopes that it will hide the way your heart suddenly skips a beat, the way your legs feel weaker at the knees, "so what--what now?"

"Well, that's the part where you tell me you like me back--" Minho catches himself upon seeing you raise a brow at him, "--or not. Your choice, your rules, doll."

Doll? You can feel the flame bursting through your chest and squeezing your heart. It aches so much it hurts, though it seems that your smile can't help tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch him and despite his seeming nonchalance about the whole matter, there's the slightest sheen of pink that gives him away.

Cute. Your brain chants.

"Well," you tilt your chin up in what you hope is a confident manner, "you normally take a girl out to dinner first."

"Is that a yes?" Minho smirks.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, yes I heard alright. Fine," he sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "tomorrow night. Dinner. Be ready by six. I'll pick you up."

"Tomorrow? But wait I--"

"You better be there, doll."

And with that, he swivels on his feet and walk away while whistling a soft tune, leaving your heart flooded with a tide of mixed emotions that erupt through your chest and butterflies running along your skin.

---

Minho: I'll come pick you up by six. Be ready then. Wear something cute but casual. Nothing fancy.

Y/N: i like how you're telling me how to dress up when you're the one who's supposes to be wooing me.

Minho: oh you don't have to worry about that.

The way he replies so smoothly has goosebumps running along the back of your neck and you squeeze your hands into fists. You're still sitting on your bed, trying to digest all this new information as another flurry of messages burst through your phone, probably fron Kitty's latest reaction your news.

Kitty: what?! Minho?! And you?! He asked you out?!!! Omg how did I not see this coming!!!

Y/N: i thought you were a matchmaker.

Kitty: well YEAH before he went and ruined it!!! Anyway, what are you WEARING?!

Y/N: i have absolutely no idea. He said something cute but casual, so I'm guessing there's not gonna be any fancy dinners or anything.

Kitty: omg!! Minho and casual doesn't sound right. Maybe he really is trying to woo you!!

Y/N: should I wear shorts? Pants? A skirt?

Kitty: definitely no pants. Maybe that cute skater skirt you wore to Yuri's party last semester?

So you do. The skirt's baby blue colour contrasts well with the simple white tshirt you decided to wear with it, and throwing on a beige cardigan and some white sneakers complete the look. You add a small blue bow into your hair to match, and take one last look at yourself in hopes that you're looking exactly how Minho wants you to--

No. That's the wrong way to go about it. Minho likes you. Yes. You. Not the girls he's always so uses to seeing. You don't have to impress him.

That’s how you meet him right outside your door, with your newly-found resolve as you catch the simple white tee and ripped jeans, hair styled just the way he likes it, just enough to make every woman’s heart swoon.

His eyes do a once-over, “not bad, Y/N. You clean up nice.”

“Not bad?” You scoff, “I’m sure there are much better adjectives to use.”

He grins, “we’ll see.”

Minho brings you over to the Han river by electric scooter, with you standing in front and holding on to the handlebars as he guides you across the street even though it’s technically illegal for people to do such a thing. But with the wind in your hair and Minho’s warmth at your back, you don’t find yourself complaining.

“Han river?” You raise a brow at him as he parks and pays for his e-scooter ride, “really? So cliche.”

“The Han River is a classic,” he looks at you pointedly, “and I’ll have you know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

“Ooh, does that mean anything?” You wriggle your brows and he scoffs, looks away, “shut up.”

You weren’t expecting him, of all people, to be a fan of romantic gestures such as this. But when he parks his scooter in favor of walking alongside you by the trail — even with his multiple complaints about the dirt being too dirty and people needing to revisit their wardrobe fashion — you can’t help but wonder how much effort he’s putting into just being with you. Because knowing Minho, walking on crushed grass and having his shoes in dirt is quite a big deal.

“Look, do you want to be swooned or not?” He replies when you ask him the question, even looks offended that you’d dared ask such a thing, “I thought girls loved it when boys brought them here.”

“Yes I know that,” your grin is so wide that you’re surprised it hasn’t broken your face in two yet, “and don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I never thought you—of all people — would bring me here, of all places. It’s just not…”

“Not what?” He scowls.

“Just not you,” you confess, and then, seeing that his frown seems to take a permanent fixture on his face, you quickly add, “so the fact that you’re doing it…thanks. It means…something. You know?”

Heat springs through your cheeks at the sudden confession and you quickly look away, anywhere, but not before glancing at Minho to see that he has a faint smile dancing across his lips.

As the evening wears on, you get to talk about everything and anything; from worries about your future and the rigorous routine of adult life, about which game box is better and which restaurant serves the best korean noodles, which Minho argues does not exist, considering that every single noodle joint in Seoul is a pro in making them.

"We're the city of noodles and gimbap, obviously there's more than one good noodle stop."

"You speak like someone who hasn't tasted Uncle Cha's food yet. You know, the snack from across the road to campus."

Minho's nose wrinkles, "nah I'm good--"

"Oh no you don't," you grab onto his arm before he has a chance to run away, "nu-uh. Let's go get them right now, actually."

Surprisingly awed by Cha's cuisine, Minho has no other choice than to grumble out a faint agreement. It's no secret that it makes your day.

"But the environment--" Minho shudders, "I think I saw a cockcroach scuttling about in there."

“Oh yeah,” you let your eyes follow the wall and trail back up to him, pointing at his face, “there’s one.”

Shoving you playfully, he pulls out his tongue in such a childish manner you can’t help but burst out laughing.

You decide to take the walk back along the Han River even if it makes a detour, stopping by a coffee shop to grab some hot chocolate. The city lights now illuminate the city like stars scraping the earth’s surface and you can’t help but feel amazed by how beautiful the scenery is, with the wind trickling through your hair and soft music from busking sessions in the background.

“I’ve never actually walked along the Han River before,” you confess to him as you gaze down at the black waters sloshing against the river edge, “thanks, Minho.”

He has the look of a satisfied five year old child who got a gold star for his best behaviour, “you’re welcome.”

“Who knew you’d be the one to bring me here?” You jostle his shoulder playfully before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

“What’s that you’re implying?” He frowns.

“That you’ve surprised me and my expectations.”

“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” He looks horrified and dramatic, “you’re harsh, Y/N. I’ll have you know, I haven’t—“ he stops himself just in time for you to swoop in and push, “yeah? You haven’t what?”

“Nevermind,” he sips his own drink and you notice the way his ears have turned red.

You giggle, “tell me, have you gone on dates before?”

“Wha—of course I have! What kind of question is that?!” You keep on laughing and laughing at his face, shaking your head as you try and muffle your chuckles the best you can, “oh god—oh my god, you never have. It’s written all over your face—“

“You talk too much,” he mutters into his drink and turns away from you, ears as red as a fire engine.

You nudge him, smiling, loving that side of him that he’s never really shown anyone before. Because you all know the cool, confident Minho. But this, this side of Minho is uncharted territory.

And you’re all here for it.

“Why not, though?”

His eyes narrow as he looks back at you, “what?”

“Why haven’t you brought anyone out before?’ You fidget with your cup, glad that it’s warming your hands so you can busy yourself with something, “because I’ve seen you, with different types of girls. All the time—“

“Yeah that didn’t mean anything.”

“But you still went out with them.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”

“What?” Heat flushes through you, “no, I just—“

That’s when you feel it. His hand, fluttering up to yours. He pries your hold from your cup gently before bringing it down between you, fingers entangling with yours like they’re meant to be there in the first place.

And when your eyes flutter to lock onto his, there’s liquid warmth in those pools of brown, a tenderness you’ve seldom seen before.

“This is new too,” he murmurs then, “all of this.”

Your heart skips a beat. There are no words to be said.

You swallow thickly, look away, and don’t miss the soft chuckle that falls from his lips as he keeps swinging your hands back and forth between you, his smile a permanent fixture on his face. One that your lips mirror faintly as you keep walking back towards your dorms in comforting silence.

———

“Was that romantic enough for you?”

Minho’s question is met with a chuckle from your part as you finally reach your dormitory. A few stray students are still studying deep into the night, some already asleep on the deep blue couches in the common room as you make your way through, hands still entertained from earlier.

Your heart has been skipping and rollerblading into ecstasy ever since.

“Hmm,” you hum, even tilting your head in thought, “guess so. Though if I had any complaints—“

“You wouldn’t tell me, because there aren’t any,” Minho finishes for you, “right?”

“Oh i have plenty, but I’ll keep it for another time,” you flash him a mischievous smile. You’ve reached your corridor by that time, your words causing Minho to shoot you a suggestive look.

“another time?” He repeats with a cock of his brow.

You bite your lip and look away to avoid the fact that there’s a faint, yet growing smile on your face, “yeah. Maybe.”

The said young man’s lips pulls into a small smile, “I can work with that.” He murmurs, and something warm pools in the middle of your chest.

It’s hard to control yourself around Minho especially when he’s not being a little shit. Because the fact is; he’s very enticingly charming and likable.

“Well, that’s me,” you’ve reached your door then, glad that for once your dorm room is free of activity since both your roommates have gone home for the Christmas season, and turn towards Minho.

“Thanks you, for tonight,” your cheeks are warm with heat but you can’t resist grinning up at him, “I had more fun than expected.”

Minho sucks in a dramatic breath, “wow. I think i finally got a compliment out of your mouth.”

“Trust me, that’s me being nice.”

“I know,” he flashes a grin at you and before you know it, his arm has gone up to press against the doorway, caging you in and suddenly making you feel smaller than you are already. His body heat rolls into you in waves, the scent of his boyish cologne making you dizzy as your body leans into him unconsciously.

“So,” he breathes. He’s so close, so close that if you move just a little, your noses would brush, “since I’ve taken you out on a date, do I get to kiss you now?”

Air stills in your lungs. Your teeth find your lower lip.

“It depends,” your whisper is so soft he barely catches it, too enthralled by the way your mouth curves and moves with the words, “will you take me out again?”

“If her highness wishes,” Minho chuckles, tilting his head so that your noses brush. Electricity zaps through your body, goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, “I’ll take you wherever you want.”

Your eyes lock. There’s warmth, want. Desire swimming through his own pools of brown.

“Sounds like a promise,” you breathe, “so when will that—“

“Y/N.”

The way he says your name has a knot tightening in your stomach. Your body tenses in anticipation.

He’s gazing at you as if he’s only just seeing you. His lips are so close, you can feel his breaths on your lips. Hot against cold. He smells divine.

You’re so lost in your own daydream that you respond a few seconds late, “y-yeah?”

“Do me a favor?”

One hand cradles your cheek. You freeze.

“Hm?”

“Stop talking.”

And before you can do anything else, his mouth presses against yours.

Fireworks explode. Behind your eyelids. Through your body. Blood races and your brain goes fuzzy with want and desire as Minho’s other hand wraps around your waist to tug you in, his other hand clasping your jaw firmly as he kisses you. Once. Twice. He’s a good kisser, yet so gentle and tentative.

You’re taken by surprise for a few seconds, before you finally melt into him and kiss him back. A sigh escapes you as your hands go up to wrap around his neck, and the groan of satisfaction he lets out makes your entire nerves buzz with delight.

Tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, longer, you let out a gasp against his mouth as he pulls you even closer still, as if he can’t get enough of you. You haven’t realized you’re pressed to the door until your back meets the hard wood underneath and you yelp softly at the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip to ask for entrance.

He kisses you softly, yet so firmly as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, satiated. His hand at your hip moves up, tracing the back of your spine, the side of your rib cage before brushing against the corner of your bra and making you squirm while your hands curl into his hair. You tug, causing a grumble to echo out of Minho’s chest. His tongue darts in and you part for him like melted butter so that he can kiss you and ravage you without restraint.

Everything falls away, with only Minho being your anchor. You smell him, feel him against you, and want nothing else other than the dizzying rush that makes your stomach erupt with fireflies.

Your mouths part with a pop and he takes this chance to nip at your jaw, littering kisses down your neck before suckling on a soft patch of skin. Your body reacts instantly, curving into him as your lips part in a soft, minuscule moan. That’s enough to snap him back to attention.

He gazes up at you, chest heaving and all heavy breaths. His lips are swollen and red and just so beautiful. Hair tousled like he’s just tumbled out of bed and you quickly decide that’s the look you love best on him.

The curfew bell sounds and he curses.

“Minho,” you murmur when he leans in, noses brushing to capture your lips into his once more. You sigh, eyes falling shut as he takes your next set of words away.

It’s almost as if he’s drunk on you, as if he just can’t get enough.

The thought makes you shiver. Your heart swells with emotion.

“Minho,” you murmur once more against his lips. He groans, pulls away onto to bury his face into your neck and humming, “yeah?”

“Curfew’s in two minutes.”

“I know,” he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses over your collarbone and you can’t help but whimper and cradling his head closer to you despite trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“Y—You should go,” you stutter out but it’s almost like you’re talking to yourself. He’s clearly in his own world, suckling onto your skin and leaving purple marks to claim you as his. He pulls away, groaning appreciatively at the sight you make.

“Do I really have to go?” His dark eyes — darker than you’ve ever seen them — flickers over your features. There’s a kind of hunger to them that makes you shiver.

“Yes,” you stammer out, heart almost bursting out of your chest when the boy merely tugs you close before he rests his head atop yours. He holds you, breaths you in, and your eyes close on their own accord, taking in the moment like it’s the last.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” his whisper grazes the shell of your ear and you shiver. He pulls back and there’s the kind of crooked smile that makes your heart tighten, “goodnight, Y/N.”

“Good night, Minho,” you murmur and dropping a last kiss atop your temple, you watch him walk away, raising a salute with his hand as he does so.

———

A/N: GAHHH IDK WHAT I WROTE AND I GAVE UP AT THE END I HOPE IT’S ALRIGHT BUT ANYWAY I’VE BEEN OBSSESSED WITH MINHO THESE DAYS.

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rinverse · 1 month

Text

“Let’s do this one more time, okay? That’s it. My name is Katrina Estrada-Serrano, I was bitten by a radioactive spider and for the past 4 years.. I have been the one and only spider-woman.”

(credits to my friend Jessi who drew this.)

This is my spidersona guys! Let me tell you about her personality and information.

———————————————

Early Life.

Katrina was born in Bogotá, Columbia on August 16th. She lives with her mother and the two of them lived in an apartment together where it was nice and pretty spacious. She loved hanging out with her neighborhood friends where they would play soccer, play tag or go to the playground nearby her apartment. Her mother works as an engineer for a company, she’s been working for the company for about a couple years.

At the age of eight, Katrina’s mom announced to Katrina that they will be moving to New York, her boss was proud of her and promoted her to a upper management position in the company but it was located in New York. Katrina was very saddened about this news, she had to leave her friends and play with them anymore.

Her being in a new country is very scary, she couldn’t stop overthinking as she was flying to New York, afraid that she would not be able to make any new friends. Once she arrived to her new home, she was now living in a townhouse which was more larger than her home back in Columbia. She enrolled in Brooklyn Elementary school, she was incredibly nervous, she didn’t knew English that much and was very nervous about the kids making fun of her. When she entered to her new classroom, everyone was really nice to her, especially this one girl who was really patient with Katrina, MJ.

How did she got her powers?

At the age of 15 years old, Katrina and her girlfriend, MJ were out in the forest in the middle of the night, MJ notices a large build in the distance and encourages to go there, Katrina was unsure about this but eventually agreed, they entered the building and it was ginormous and they were just walking around the hallways and Katrina notices a room filled with new lab materials that were abandoned, they both entered the room and taking many pictures. While taking pictures, Katrina sees a spider on her arm but wasn’t just any ordinary spider, this spider was pink and had a heart shaped body with eight hot pink legs, the spider bites Katrina and she freaks THE FUCK out😭.

What was her canon event?

Junior year of High school, she lost her girlfriend MJ.

MJ was rewarded for her Science project that would basically get her a scholarship and basically they had a huge school festival about it, but a villain interrupts the event and wrecks everything. Katrina arrives the scene and fights the villain, MJ tries to help the people who were injured but was killed when the villain crashed into the school, pieces falling down and crushing MJ.

Katrina never forgives herself after what happened.

How was she recruited to the Spider Society?

(I have made an entire story about it and tbh I basically copied her recruitment like Gwen..😭 back then I didn’t had any ideas about it BUT!! Here’s a new way.)

Pavitr, Miles and Gwen are in Katrina’s universe to catch an anomaly, but this anomaly was really powerful and tough to beat. Pink webs are suddenly wrapped around the torsos of the three of them while they were fighting the anomaly. Katrina throws them out of the dangerous scene and defeats the anomaly, they were amazed about it and basically kidnapped Katrina to go a literal different universe to be recruited by the most prestigious force of the Spider-verse.

If you have any questions about my spidersona or anything else please feel free to ask them!

@punkeropercyjackson @queenofthedisneyverse here’s my spidersona’s info :3

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spiderman atsv #atsv hobie #atsv #spidersona #hobie brown x oc #hobie brown x reader #miles morales #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #spiderverse oc #spiderverse fanart

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aza-writes · 9 months

Text

Morning Affirmations

Lip Gallagher x female!reader

Requested: no

Summary: Lip walks in on his girlfriend singing to the younger kids while she gets them ready for the day. Takes place in season 4 after Liam gets home from the hospital

Warnings: few curse words, mentions of drug use (Fiona in jail) but overall, it’s just tons of FLUFF

A/N: inspired by “I love my body” by @mothermoon on TikTok. Might rewrite something similar for dad!lip, lmk what you think. Got bored before lab and wrote this

The floorboards creaked under every step Lip took to get down to the kitchen. He wasn’t too concerned with anything too wrapped up in his mind until two sweet voices pull him out.

“I love my body from my…”

“Head to my toes.”

Liam’s voice was hard to hear, even in the quietness of the unusually empty Gallagher house. Everyone was already at school or wherever they ran off to today—leaving Lip home alone to take care of some things.

Liam has only been home from the hospital for two days, leaving Lip and the rest of the family still scrambling without Fiona running the show. Lip had school off today, some random college holiday that didn’t make sense for a lot of people, but they took it anyway.

Lip had been out of bed since 5 that morning, unsure if it was considered a late night or an early morning due to the fact he hadn’t slept for more than a few hours the night before. His mind was going a million miles an hour, mixed with him worrying himself sick about Liam and going to check on him every thirty minutes. Every time he would get up from his bed, y/n would sit up, too. Her concerned look was always dismissed with a quick “go back to sleep” or “I’ll be back soon” from Lip. The “soon” in question was around five to ten minutes of Lip just sitting in front of Liam’s bed, watching his chest rise and fall.

Y/n stayed up and waited for Lip the first few times, but soon enough her eyes got too heavy for her to ignore. Even with the extra sleep, caffeine would be her best friend today.

Lip’s mind was still groggy as he trudged down the stairs, stress and sleep deprivation felt like chains were strapped to the back of his ankles. He barely made out the words y/n and Liam were exchanging.

“I love my face…” She lingered for a second, allowing Liam to think about the next verse. She smiles and continued on. “My-”

“Eyes, my mouth my nose.” Lip could help but smile at the sight of Liam touching every body part mentioned. He clearly knew this song, yet Lip couldn’t think of any of the words. When ever you would sing it to one of his younger siblings, all he could do was hear your voice. The kindergarten-teacher-like tone was enough for him to abandon all of his thoughts and focus on you.

“I like the way I look when I look in the mirror.” Liam didn’t have to wait for y/n this time, he sang it with her. Their voices both were quiet, almost scared to wake anyone up, but the house stayed quiet. It was just those three in that house, the outside world didn’t matter.

“I stand a little closer just to see a little clearer.” Both of their smiles were beaming. Liam giggling at y/n’s little tickles all over his belly and neck. Lip’s grew too. Y/n was so amazing with the kids, Lip could’ve sworn it as always been this way. Y/n and Lip, Lip and y/n. They belonged together.

Everyone in his family loved her. Carl made her a gift out of melted spoons and forks, Debbie demands they have a girls day at least once a month. Shit, even Frank called her “one of the good ones.” Technically it was after she downed a shot of vodka without even wincing, but he still liked her non the less.

Y/n turns around smiling, it only growing when she finally sees Lip.

“Good morning babe.”

“Morning babe!” Liam repeats immediatly, causing Lip and y/n to giggle with him.

Lip pours two cups of coffe before heading to the kitchen table. “Good morning to you.” He sets the coffe right in front of y/n while kissing her cheek. He carefully set his down too and kissed Liams cheek. “Good morning little man.”

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #lip x reader #shameless us #phillip gallagher #lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher fluff #lip gallagher x y/n #lip gallagher fic #lip gallagher blurb

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ju1cyfru1t · 10 months

Note

Hiii pooks! 😙 I love❤️ ur writhing sm

I’ve been having such a spider man phase after watching the new spider verse movie and I was wondering what would the turtles think when they figured out reader being NY’s Spider women or spider person like they haven’t told thier turtle bf about it and stuff (live for the drama😵‍💫)

Always love you and def feel free to ignore!

I LOVE THIS thank you pookie 🤭 hope u like it 🫶🏻🕸️ u didn’t specify so I’m gonna assume you meant the rise turtles!

Rise! Leo, Mikey, Donnie, Raph x Spider-Woman! S/O

ROTTMNT x Reader

fluff! :D, fem! reader, contains swearing, not proofread

Leo

- He may not be the brightest mutant, but he is observant

- Probably interrogated the info out of you

- -> “Y/N, where exactly were you last night?” “Oh, uh…I was with, um, April.” “That’s funny…considering April was with us!”

- It didn’t really shock him to find out you had a big secret, what did shock him is what that secret is

- He’s also a little hurt that you didn’t tell him. Don’t you trust him??? But that wasn’t his biggest concern

- “Wait, so like…spider woman as in like, big mama kind of spider woman?” NO-

- You would have to really explain it to him

- But let’s be real, he still wouldn’t understand so you’d have to show him by like climbing up the fucking wall or something

- But he really does think your powers are super sick

- Laughs when you try to explain your spidey senses -> “wait, you’re serious?”

- ^ calls them your “tingly thing”

- maybe you can web his fucking mouth shut

- LOVES your suit, thinks you look stunning and super awesome

- “You know, I always said that was your color Y/N!”

- Invites you to patrol with them! (then he doesn’t have to do as much)

- thinks you’re so hot when you fight (NOT IN A FREAKY WAY YOU FREAKS) and hypes you up

- freaks tf out if he ever gets a web on him, including if you were to swing with him to get out of harms way

- doesn’t ask for them, but he can’t deny he likes the iconic Spider-Man kisses

Mikey

- would just straight up ask if you’re hiding something. Dr.Delicate touch DOES NOT PLAY ‼️

- Of course this would be something you’re hesitant about, but he would remind you that you can confide in him

- Def was not expecting THIS.

- He is asking you a million questions all at once, and will sit nicely and listen as you explain with starry eyes (stop lookin at me with them big ole eyes)

- You’re #1 fan and biggest hype man

- Thinks you’re the coolest person ever fr

- Wants to swing around on your webs with you. Around NYC, in the lair, in Donnie’s lab, on missions, it doesn’t matter he WANTS it.

- THE ICONIC SPIDER-MAN KISSES ALL THE TIME ITS HIS FAVORITE WAY TO KISS YOU NOW

- weirdly interested in your webs 🕸️

- Compliments your suit anytime you wear it around him; thinks your mask is so so cute

- ^ in his free time he’ll sketch and color new suit designs to show you (also just drawings and paintings of you in your suit)

Donnie

- isn’t going to pry any secrets from you; but he does secretly wish you’d come to him on your own.

- so you can imagine his gratitude and relief when you finally tell him what’s up

- Doesn’t really say anything about it, but he doesn’t get why you didn’t just tell him sooner. I mean, you do know he’s a hero too, right?

- he’s fascinated, he’s never seen anything like your powers before. especially because you’re not a mutant.

- really just asks questions about how it all works. Your webs, how you stick to surfaces, your enhanced senses, the whole deal yk?

- He did NOT like big mama’s webs, and he doesn’t really like yours either I’m so sorry.

- ^if he needs them, would ask to use some like he did with Big Mama’s

- It’s not you I swear he just can’t do it

- you could like climb all over his lab ceiling and walls and scare the shit out of him tho

- ^ “Y/N get down this instant! WE TALKED ABOUT THIS-“

- admires your enhanced senses and intuition of danger

- is absolutely gonna make gear for you, as well as offering to make upgrades to your suit

- wouldn’t really directly say it, but he really likes the design of your suit. it just fits you so well. (he IS going to make a purple one for you)

- would scream if you ever just dropped down in front of him to kiss him spider man style

- ^ traumatized; it’s not his favorite thing but he doesn’t mind terribly

Raph

- might take him a while to notice if something is off about you. Leo or Mikey would probably have to directly point it out for him to realize fully

- Isn’t going to beat around the bush and just asks why you’re acting lowkey shady

- really shocked, might take him a second to process even if he doesn’t really know exactly what you mean at first

- honestly he understands why you keep it a secret, just a little saddened that you kept it from him

- He’s gonna need you to really explain your powers

- “…where do the webs come out of tho?”

- would deepen your bond and connection. you can really relate to each other carrying a deep burden and the pressure of responsibility.

- AMAZING DUO with his strength and your agility

- very good hype man

- takes you on most missions and patrols, thinks you’re a really valuable asset to the team

- also calls your spider senses your “tingly thing”

- it’s not that he doesn’t like your webs, something about them just make him nervous. Refuses to let you swing him on them unless he’s in immediate danger.

- does NOT let you crawl around the lair walls, he’s scared you’ll hurt yourself

- ^ “Y/N! You’re gonna hurt yourself, GET DOWN!”

- really thinks you look so pretty in your special suit, he just doesn’t know how to say without feeling like he sounds dumb. He would DIE if it was red.

- “ I really…er, like your costume.”

- very supportive! he gets the struggle of protecting the city, but is happy you get to do it beside each other. :D

- he likes the spidey kisses, they just really fluster him

——————————————————————————

y’all I’m sorry if there is any misinformation in this don’t flame me but I haven’t seen atsv yet

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cutielights · 4 months

Note

Hey pookie!! I luv ur work sm and I was wondering if u could do a rottmnt boys x spider woman reader ab them reacting to her stopping a collider like miles did? Idek if u watched into the spider verse but maybe something like that if not u could wing it if you'd like tysm hope u have a good day/night! ❤️

>>:] yes. For the purposes of writing, im going to act as if you were a spider person for at least a year before this. Not supposed to be Miles’ story, but pretty similar (if that makes sense)

i waNT THE THIRD MOVIE. Frikin dying of miles morales deprivation over here, hand over the sunflower boy with in tact parents

@moonchhu THE OTHER SPIDER PERSON ONE TAG LIST

That Really Big Earthquake

LEO

“Heyyyy, I haven’t seen you in twenty four hours which truly is a record for us, I missed you, did you miss me? I bet you did right? Go on tell me aaaalllll about it.”

“So, I was just kinda minding my own business, y’know, thwipping and thwapping and going about being an awesome hero when I bumped into myself? Kinda. They looked like me, but they were different, and didn’t look like me, but, I knew they were me! Because my spider sense went off and they could do stuff I could do, but also some different stuff! And then we freaked out for a little bit before I went to auntie May to show her and she showed me four more other me’s who were hiding out in her basement and then we tried getting them home and we had to sneak about in this fancy restaurant wearing bow ties, and we cried and they went into this collider thing, also it turns out my favourite cousin was working for the evil genius corporation and he’s dead now and it feels like my fault, I’m so totally fine don’t worry about me. Howwasyourday?”

“Haha, what.”

“Stopped the collapsing of the multiverse.”

“Oh it sounds so simple when you put it like that.” Yeah okay sarcasm queen

Made you some tea after that, let’s just, take a breath for a minute, m’kay?

He has decided it’s a self care day now, at least he did after thoroughly checking you for injuries

How you do not have a concussion will always escape him, not one broken bone? Seriously? After all that?

Please remind him you’re an actual super hero and not a pane of glass

“Wait what was that about your cousin?”

RAPH

“Hey! How was your weekend?”

“Crazier than yours.”

“Okay, Bet.”

One explanation later sponge bob narrator voice

“Wait, so you’re telling Raph, that huge earthquake that happened, happened because of you and five alternate versions of yourself?

“That’s excluding a lot of things I just told you but, I am telling Raph that, yes.”

Huge bone crushing hugs are in order, according to him at least. And I mean, is he wrong?

Not letting you out of his sight for ages, please, Raph, let them go home

“Why are you so worried? I did it, I won!”

“It’s more the fact that it happened and less the fact that you’re mostly fine.”

DONNIE

Othello Von Ryan: Stay home, S.H.E.L.LD.O.N has picked up on some strange (possibly universal fabric destroying) activity. Also there has been some earthquake activity in the area you were in yesterday, not that I have a tracker on you. Because I don’t.

Only Two Legs: I handled it don’t worry :D

Othello Von Ryan: ?

Othello Von Ryan: Traverse to My Lab.

“Heyyy Deee.”

“Stop. Explain. This better be your attempt at humor.”

There was silence for a long while after you had messily glued together words to describe the past 24 hours, before he took a deep breath.

“First, How dare you stop the multiverse from collapsing without me that’s incredible rude. Second, therapy. Third, that earthquake and power surge destroyed My Lab, thankfully I have backup backups to my backups, but I couldn’t use the internet for an hour straight.”

“Y- You’re more concerned about the internet?”

“Not what I said. Now let me check you for a concussion.”

MIKEY

“Hey they took down those art displays.”

“The what?”

“Oh you weren’t here, BUT there was these reaaaallllyyyyy cool art statues along this street! Look, hey, look, I took pics!”

“Oh cooollluuuhhh that’s not an art display that’s five different fire hydrants merged into each other.”

“Haha yeah it does kinda look like that doesn’t it? I thought it was supposed to be a dog.”

“Mikey, no-“ You pulled him aside into an empty alleyway, trying to explain what had happened over the past twenty four hours.

It was an interesting experience, but you got there eventually.

Best believe this boy is giving you the biggest hug ever, and then buying pizza.

Oh, and Dr Feelings is going to be paying you a visit. Multiple. You can’t escape him.

“So they weren’t art displays?”

Speedily bulk writing and scheduling rn bc im going on a holiday with zero internet.

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avatartophblindbanditbeifong · 1 year

Text

Unbudded Flower

Miles Morales x Reader

337 words

Summary: Miles dreaded fourth period. That was until he met you.

Fluff, fluff, fluff <333

December, 2018

Miles was having a long day, and it was only 10 a.m. Time seemed to be his biggest enemy now that he actually had something to look forward to. Instead of beating up bad guys and being everyone's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, Miles was going to fourth period.

He was a lot more open-minded about Visions Academy now, although he did still think it was a little elitist and some of his peers stuffy and stiff. All except for one person, Y/n Y/l/n.

Miles first met Y/n in fourth period a week after his final fight with Kingpin and saying goodbye to the other spider people. Y/n had been sitting at a two person desk by themselves and with Miles being late, his only option was to sit in the empty chair next to them. Y/n was quiet, did the work that was given, and went about their day. That was as much as Miles could gather. The only time Miles heard Y/n talk was when they answered a question or quietly apologizing to him when they both accidentally bumped each other's elbows when they wrote.

That was until their teacher assigned a lab that was to be completed in groups of two. Miles learned a lot from that lab, and it wasn’t about science. Y/n was like an unbudded flower. It took some time for them to show him who they were on the inside, but once they fully bloomed Miles could all but admire the person they were. Miles and Y/n talked everyday following that. They ate together at lunch with his roommate Ganke, texted about miscellaneous topics in the middle of the night, and talked in hushed whispers about anything and everything; stifling their laughter to avoid the judgemental gazes of their classmates. They were inseparable. It did not take long for Y/n to become Miles’ friend and by the end of the month, Miles would consider Y/n his best friend.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°

A/N: So, I watched Across the Spider-Verse yesterday and it was such an amazing film! Seeing almost a half a decade worth of work come together in front of my eyes was such an amazing experience. The colors, the animation, the story were all perfect. Miles and all of the other characters mean so much to me, I legit had a meltdown when the credits were over LOL!

Anyway, I knew I had to write a cute little story after seeing the movie so here it is :)

Hope you enjoyed!

#miles morales #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales imagine #x reader

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i-cannot-spell-chaos · 1 year

Text

Webs and Masks

(I don't own image)

(Yandere spider verse platonic and romantic x Villain! Spider man reader!)

(Sorry it took so long! warning cursing!Sorry if it's bad!)

A comic was slapped on the table the cover showing You a spider man jumping away from a crime scene. SO let explain shall we? You had been Spider man for a year and a half. Getting bit by a radioactive spider on the ankle when rescuing a scientist who sadly passed due to radiation from an experiment called InSpid mutation where they would mutate spiders but the spiders got loose. You did die legally speaking having to claw your way out of your grave is not recommended. *You look at Uncle Ben spider man 'how the fuck'* So you decided since you were dead technically you would run the under streets of New York. You expected a hero however he never came your fate had changed. You found out through the discovery of the multi verse and time lines. The spider who was supposed to create your rival had been brought to another universe. Due to this your canon event didn't happen meaning you weren't a true spider man just a villain who is spider man?

SO to sum it up you were bit by a radioactive clone spider became villain spider man and is working on creating a way to go into different universes.

Other than that you like visiting your neighbor every Sunday for game night. This family was the Morales family your universe is the only universe you're alive in all the other universes you go missing or you're found dead by spider man. You hoped this peace will stay for as long as it can.

Until a portal opens in your lab or a spot? A man with a plain white face and a spot in the middle popped his head out looking around. Thoughts run in your head but the main one is how the hell is he doing that. The man looked at you before asking "Hey do you want to fuck up this Spider guy's introduction? He's kinda attacking my rival Miles Morales and I need someone to be in the inside" You look at him wide eyes grabbing his face. "He's attacking my buddy? I'm gonna crush that man with my thighs" You jumped through the portal getting sent to this spider verse HQ

"So it hasn't happened yet but Miles Morales will show up in two months sorry" The portal closes behind you.

You look around realizing how fucked you are in this situation. He sent you a month ahead?! You got caught in an hour after glitching and was brought to Miguel o Hara. After finding who you were and why you were there you were given a day watch to stop the glitching. Miguel was curious about you and your time line theory.

You spent hours explaining it and showing it through spider webs. The Spider can choose different webs Some Spiders don't even have webs but the things that make them all alike is what defines them. Every Spider man has choices that change in different universes that is their time line however if it changed the time line collapse on itself. Sometimes these webs are built and can change however if they are already prone to change. For example you can say anything to a person in pompeii before the volcanic explosion but that doesn't damage the time line since it was coming to an end.

Miguel loved this theory since it went with his until you went on with time loops and got stuck in a loop for an hour.

However the reason why you came creeped onto him before he knew it. You became friends with the children of the Spider verse MayDay,Hobie,Paviter, and Gwen. Spotting you multiple times from a window seeing you jump across buildings just to make sure they weren't injured when they came back. Wolf spider he figured due to your attachments to younger spider people. The other got quite attached to you being there. Since Miguel wouldn't allow you to leave for an odd reason.

The day it finally happened before you knew it. Miles Morales came to HQ after fighting the spot. He seemed to recognize you from his universe hugging you. At first you returned it until he didn't let go.

Miles had known the reason why you disapeared in his universe seeing it for him self. You were close to him like another dad before you went missing. Seeing you alive squeezed his heart his reaction was holding onto you.

You had to get help from Peter B and Gwen to get him off.

"Going to introduce yourself, kid?" you asked the boy patting his shoulder. "I'm Miles Morales Spider man in my universe" Miles smiled showing his teeth. "I'm Doctor (your name) the evil version of spider man in my universe bit of advice pretty sure Miguel has Rabies don't let him bite you and being spider is not all of the swing shift your weight when you jump to where you want to swing the jump matters." You smile showing off your fangs. Miles looked shocked at your fangs you really were different here.

Jess called the two of you over saying Miguel wanted to see us. Hobie groaned before you dragged him along happily. Walking in pocketing the final things for your watch. Miguel kept you here only with a day pass so you started making your own.

You plopped into a seat ignoring what was about to happen. Miles spoke to Miguel while you were finishing your watch. Everything was in place when suddenly Miguel threw a desk down at Miles scaring you. Quickly grabbing Miles away from it. You looked up at Miguel worried "The hell man! You can't just hit a kid!" You yelled at him "He's an anomly!" Miguel yelled at you glaring down at Miles.

Seeing you were backing down he looked at Miles "Let me explain...follow me" He led them to a room filled with holograms. "This is the spider verse in every universe there is cannon" Miguel went on with his lecture when he brought out cannon events. "These things happen in every universe this is what makes spider man" there was a pause a thing you dreaded with Miguel in the two months you had known him. Those pauses is when something bad will happen "That included when a chief is close to spider man they die every single time" Some thought ran through your head....you didn't know any police chief's Mile's dad never got through the police acedemy so he was a security guard in your universe..So are you really spider man you have spider man dna but are you truelly spider man haha butt oh speaking of butts why is miguel cheeked up on a tuesday afternoon? Where did he get all that ass?

Your thoughts were cut off when Miguel mentioned your name. "Huh" "(Your name)...Run!" Peter b yelled at you. Looking for the danger you saw an approaching Miguel and a running Miles. You booked it sliding easily through the halls knowing the place for weeks. Miles was right behind before jumping on your back. You stumbled in shock before continuing to run. "Don't listen to them (Your name) come back" Miguel called for you.

Now you don't know true fear unless you had been chased by Miguel. Mother fuckers growling behind you clawing at walls going through them. There was a crowd in front of you so you did the first thing that came to your head. "Evacuate the building Miguel o Hara from universe 2099 have is chasing after me and I was listening!" People usually only hear the first part so they move quickly. You passed through quickly holding Miles close before jumping. Looking down you saw Miguel's claw almost catching you. He desperate look for you brought actual fear in your bones. "Miles why is he after me" You asked Miles landing on a random building "Miguel was saying stuff about canon events when he said me saving my dad would cause my universe to collapse and the reason why your universe had no other spider man was because you were supposed to be in his!" Miles yelled catching his breath.

"I knew something was up with him but i got a plan for us. I think I finished the watch I might be able to bring you home I just need to scan you" You pressed a few button before scanning him showing his universe. Opening the portal you saw Miguel claw his was up the building. The portal was unstable but it was fully open you threw Miles through. You turn around to see Miguel right behind you breathing down your neck. "Miguel...hey bud" you say nervously backing away from him. "You weren't planning on leaving right?" Miguel asked you his hand grabbing your coat sleeve. "Close the portal Mi Vida I can take you home now" Miguel said leaning down to your neck. After spending some time with this man you knew something was up but this was to far. "Miguel let go.."You asked him breathing quickly anxiety almost pouring through your ears as you heart pounded in your chest. "Are you scared of me" Miguel asked taking off his mask showing you his face. "We all want you back. What about those spider kids will you really leave them? Your soft to soft for your own good Mi vida" Miguel whispered in your ear.

Instinct was the last thing that came out of your body. Kicking your legs using Miguel as a boost sending yourself through the portal behind you ripped you jacket with his claw. Miguel landed on his ass looking at you launching himself at the portal luckily it closed before he could get through.

You looked around seeing you were on a tall building's roof. In front of you was a wall spray painted memorial of two people on it. You and Miles's dad. "Well damn-" you were knocked out quickly.

You woke up on a couch blinking seeing yourself in a familiar place. Looking up you saw Miles tyed up to a bean bag talking to another...Miles? Oh were in the wrong universe!

"Miles!" You yelled out both boys looking at you. Miles 42 gasping seeing you awake going over to you quickly. "Careful Uncle (your name) we just didn't want you running off like before...it's really mean yelling at your family because they wanted to keep you safe and when you went missing and was pronounced dead we knew it was fake! I knew you wouldn't be killed that easily! You were just sleeping!"

...."Huh" was the only thing you could get out before passing out again.

(part 2 coming up next sorry!)

#male reader #yandere #yandere male #platonic yandere #platonic spider #yandere spiderverse #yandere spiderman #spider gwen

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mandosaur · 1 year

Text

Anomaly 928B (Miguel O'hara / Reader)

Fandom: Across the Spider-Verse

Pairing: Miguel O'hara / Reader

Summary: “In hindsight, there had been five clues that had given away the fact that the man who had entered your home that night had not been your husband. The Miguel that had arrived amidst a thunder storm with clothing soaked through and a bizarre look was not the same one that had gone that morning to work. It had taken you some time to realize it, but slowly the truth was emerging past the haze of the lies you had been surrounded by.”

Warnings: Minor spoilers for the film, Major character death, allusions to gun violence, minor sexual content, angst.

Word Count: 6,213 Words

Estimated Reading Time: 22:35

In hindsight, there had been five clues that had given away the fact that the man who had entered your home that night had not been your husband. The Miguel that had arrived amidst a thunder storm with clothing soaked through and a bizarre look was not the same one that had gone that morning to work. It had taken you some time to realize it, but slowly the truth was emerging past the haze of the lies you had been surrounded by.

The first clue had happened the very night in question. The first night your life had completely changed.

Miguel had arrived early that afternoon with no lab coat and knocked on the door waiting for you to open it. Usually, your husband worked until your daughter Gaby had to go to bed and always returned with a briefcase full of files he would puzzle over at the kitchen table amidst reheated leftovers and a cup of coffee to keep him up through the night. That day you had especially expected him home much later because he was supposed to pick up some milk and rice from the bodega near his work place for a dessert you would make tomorrow.

Yet that evening, he had arrived in a simple jacket and with a new watch on his wrist. He had stepped through the door and caught Gaby as she had launched herself at his chest. She had wrapped her arms around him tightly and celebrated him getting off work early.

From your spot at the dining table, you had watched as your husband had briefly tensed in surprise at her greeting before slowly relaxing and setting her down. His eyes had swept through your apartment slowly as Gaby had tugged on his hand to bring him over to the dinner table.

You had smiled at him and kissed his cheek the way you always did when he came home and had seen the briefest flicker of surprise and grief on his face before he had schooled it into a neutral expression.

When you had inquired why he had come home so early and without the ingredients you had asked him for, he had explained he had finished up his latest project ahead of time and forgotten to swing by the store in his haste to make the subway on time.

He had tossed his jacket on the back of the chair at the end of the table and taken a seat there as he talked. Both you and Gaby had quietly stared when he sat down. Every day, Miguel sat at the chair closest to the window so he could read his files with the lights from outside and get some fresh air. He had never once deviated from that routine in all the years you had lived in your tiny apartment.

When you had playfully asked him if he wanted a change of scenery, he had blinked up at you in confusion before Gaby had chimed in. She was delighted to sit next to her dad for once with her own chair right next to his and was excited for his new spot. He had registered her words before making a noise and smiling.

It was raining, he had explained, and he didn’t feel like sitting near the window. He had playfully messed with Gaby’s hair and teased her about going back to his old spot if it made her happy. When your daughter had protested that she loved having him near, he had laughed brightly and the sound had set you at ease. Your momentary confusion forgotten amidst the bright sound of his amusement.

Your focus had then shifted towards dinner. You had made pollo en chipotle with your mother’s recipe and had offered Miguel more rice in exchange for the heat of the dish. Your husband often couldn’t keep up with the spice level of the food you and Gaby enjoyed which meant his plate had to have more sides to balance out the taste. You had handed him a plate teasingly asking if you should bring him a glass of milk while setting the pot at the center of the table for seconds if anyone wanted any.

To your surprise, Miguel had immediately dipped the ladle at the pot and added more of the sauce to his food silently. By the time he was finished, his chicken was all but drowned in chipotle and he made no complaints when he took the first bite.

You had thought he had been trying to rile you up by accepting your challenge and was suppressing his urge to cough or choke, but he had taken the next few spoonfuls silently as well. He had even smiled at you and complimented the meal while reminding Gaby to finish the rice she was already chasing around the plate with a spoon.

You had stared blankly at him as he finished half his plate without once asking for a drink or making a face. When he had caught you staring, he had reached over and fed you some of his rice with his spoon asking if everything was alright.

You had debated asking if his palette had been burned off or if he had suddenly developed an immunity to the spice before thinking better of it. In the end, the change in his spice tolerance hadn’t seemed important. You had silently resumed your dinner while listening to Gaby express her excitement about the new season of her soccer team.

After dinner, you and Miguel had sat on the couch while Gaby did her homework at the table. Miguel had clicked on the news and thrown an arm around your shoulders while you watched the news report.

It had seemed like a normal after dinner activity that you had only briefly reacted with relief when the reporter had talked about a robbery at the local bodega that had led to someone being shot. You had curled up further into his embrace and breathed out a quiet dios mío while being relieved Miguel had forgotten to go there after his shift. Had he gone, perhaps something terrible could have happened. Miguel quietly urged you not to think about it while holding you tighter to his frame. His grip had grown possessive and his eyes had scanned you and Gaby as if to reassure himself that you were both there.

At the time, your relief at his escape of a horrible fate had eclipsed any confusion or suspicion of the situation. You had pushed all thoughts of paranoia aside and elected to simply enjoy his closeness while not worrying over what could have been or should have been.

———————————————

The second clue had come a few days later. Miguel had told you he had taken some vacation time from work which was unusual. Often, your husband was a workaholic who needed to be persuaded to step away for a lunch break much less a vacation. Still, Miguel had woken up that morning and kissed you deeply while announcing that he was staying home for a few days with you and Gaby. When you had asked why, he had said he missed his family and wanted more time with you both.

You had been so full of happiness at his words that the bizarre nature of it all hadn’t really registered. He had plenty of time off and you had long been trying to get him to take some days. The fact that he was now listening to you was a relief.

Gaby had been even more excited to hear that he would be able to accompany her to her practices. Often, she only had you for company at the soccer field. It was exciting for her to finally have her dad there to cheering her on from the stands with the other parents who watched the friendlies. Miguel had decided the three of you would go to all her matches and would make a picnic at the park after. He had suggested making some sandwiches and promised to buy you both ice scream.

That morning he had been in a happy mood. In fact, ever since he had arrived in that thunder storm, he had been joyful. Where once he was more reserved and quiet, he now laughed and smiled. It was a beautiful sight and you had attributed it to him having less stress at work.

When he had gone into the kitchen, he had faltered looking for napkins. He had quietly opened cabinets full of cups and plates searching for them. At one point, he had even tossed open the oven full of pans in his search.

You had laughed at his confusion and asked if he had hit his head while going to the hallway to the small closet full of trash bags and napkins. Tossing him a roll, you had teased him about getting old and losing his memory.

He had taken a beat to respond and had smiled while quietly returning to his picnic preparation. Of course, you had, had to help him find the picnic basket too. He seldom could remember where he put things away and relied on you or Gaby for help finding stuff. Still, it had been rather odd that he had even forgotten that Gaby didn’t like the crust on her sandwiches and that you weren’t a fan of tomato on yours.

At the park, he had sat you at the front row and cheered on Gaby the entire match. It was a heart warning sight to see him so excited for your daughter. Gaby preened and blushed every time he called her name and some of the other parents grinned at his enthusiasm. It was nice for him to be able to see her play. Usually he only saw her matches if he was lucky and the game landed on a week where his workload was lessened.

After the game, the three of you had retreated to a quiet spot at the park and ate in silence. He had waved down the paletero who always drifted past the park and bought three ice cream cones from him. Gabby got vanilla like always and you selected a strawberry for yourself. However, when Miguel had reached for the rocky road, your eyes had widened and your hand had yanked his back with a shout. He had jumped at your fright and stared when you asked him if he was crazy.

Miguel was allergic to peanuts. It was a severe allergy which could put him in the hospital. Just eating a tiny piece of one could cause his throat to swell and hives to break out.

Miguel had listened to you berate him before looking away. You thought you had heard him swear under his breath about not being careful before he had bought a chocolate ice scream instead. His hand had come to rest around your shoulders and he had quietly explained that the chocolate ice cream was what he was going for. It was right next to the rocky road. He had thanked you for your concern but had assured you he wasn’t that forgetful.

In time, you had pushed aside your fear and felt embarrassed to have made a scene. The chocolate tub was close by. Why had you imagined him going for the one flavor he was allergic to?

Some time later, Gaby had asked for Miguel to carry her on his shoulders while you ate your ice cream. He had laughed when some of her ice cream had dripped on his face and merely moved his new watch aside to avoid it from getting messy. You had pulled out your phone and caught the moment on video with a grin. It was a lovely moment that was so rare with his busy schedule and the sweetness of it had made you forget how bizarre everything else was.

By the time you had made it back home, you hadn’t even questioned why Miguel had some trouble remembering your apartment number or why he had stopped at the keypad and quizzed Gaby to see if she paid attention and could remember the code. Your mind had been elsewhere and Gaby had insisted you read her a bedtime story that she fell asleep halfway through from the exhaustion. Perhaps you should have paid more attention then, but you were too trusting and too naive. The thought of anything amiss hadn’t occurred to you.

———————————————

The third clue came a week later. After Gaby had been put to bed, Miguel had come up behind you and kissed a line down your throat. His touches and nips had been indicative of his intentions and you had given in with your own form of excitement. The past few months had been dry. Miguel worked too late and you were often well asleep by the time he slipped into bed. You both hadn’t had much intimacy in a long while.

In fact, on the night that he had arrived home early, you had tried to seduce him but had been shut down. He had tensed with embarrassment when you had tried to initiate sex and had made an excuse about being too tired. He hadn’t expressed much interest until that particular afternoon.

The night had been much different than in the past. In the past, Miguel had been much more timid. The sex between you was typically just stolen moments with quiet breaths in fear that you would be too loud. It was soft and affectionate and calm.

That night, there had been a change. Miguel had been much more rough and demanding. He had kept you up and teased you through out the night. You had left some nail marks across his back and his fingers had left bruises on your hips and throat where he had held you over and over driving you down on his length. By the time the two of you had truly been exhausted, your body ached and shook with the exertion.

Miguel had nipped playfully at your throat and left marks. Amidst the haze of satisfaction, you could hear him whisper declarations of love and promises of not letting you or Gaby go “again.”

You weren’t quite sure what he had meant by that but you had told him you loved him back. He had helped you clean up then fished around for his things to take a shower. It was only after everything that you had realized he had never once taken his watch off.

You had stared quietly at the bizarre design trying to remember if you recognized it or could remember when he bought it. Still, sleep claimed you pretty quickly. You had been lost to it until a brief moment when he had returned from his shower and climbed in bed beside you.

Sometime near the early morning, he had kissed your lips gently and murmured another I love you. His hand had skimmed your side and you had felt his wet watch before he withdrew. Somewhere in the back of your sleep addled mind you had wondered why he hadn’t taken it off to shower but the thought had evaporated amidst the exhaustion.

The next few nights had been much of the same. You were intimate almost nightly and he had developed a new appetite that showed no signs of stopping. It was thrilling and exciting if not confusing. You reaped the rewards and stopped wondering why he wanted to try new positions or why his body seemed more muscular than you remembered.

———————————————

The fourth clue came after a few months. The three of you had been eating breakfast when Gaby’s cartoons had interrupted to discuss a sinkhole that had opened up nearby. The authorities seemed to have it under control but it was growing. You had listened with mild interest while Gaby had finished up her bowl of cereal.

Miguel had abruptly stood up and left his chilaquiles at the table. His fingers had flown to his watch and he had made an excuse. His jaw had been clenched tightly as he locked himself in the bathroom.

You thought you could hear the voice of his assistant Lyla as he hissed commands and seemed stressed. He had already explained to you that his watch was lent to him by his workplace and it had a direct line to her. You figured something had happened at work and shrugged when Gaby asked if sinkholes were common in New York.

That entire morning, Miguel had spent much of it watching the news and pacing the length of the apartment.

It hadn’t just been New York that had been having a problem, you realized. Several states had their own issues like bad crops in California and a catastrophic drought in Florida of all places. The more the reporter talked, the more it became apparent a lot of things were going on in the world. Some other countries were even having their own issues with a major earthquake in Cuba and a tsunami in Japan.

Miguel had turned off the news when Gaby had begun to grow nervous. He had reassured her quietly that nothing would happen and that he would protect you both. His eyes had taken a far away look as you watched him promise that you both would be safe and your stomach began to twist in nervousness although you tried to ignore your own fear.

After Gaby had gone off to play in her room, Miguel had quietly slipped out the fire escape. You found him leaning against the railing talking to his watch again. His back covered his arm but you could have sworn you saw the flickers of yellow as Lyla’s voice snapped things back at him.

Although you knew it was wrong to listen in, you still found yourself pressing near the wall. You were confused as to why he had been communicating with his coworkers again and again. He had been arguing often with them. Last week, he had, had a tense argument with another coworker named Jess.

You and Gaby had arrived from the store just in time to hear Miguel scream at Jess to leave him alone as she urged him to “come back” before something terrible happened. When you had asked what he had been fighting with her about, he had sagged against the sofa and pinched the bridge of his nose. The explanation you were offered was that his work was busy and his coworkers didn’t appreciate him taking more vacation days to spend time with family.

Now Miguel was upset again. You could hear him instruct Lyla to fix whatever problem they had at work and Lyla angrily fired back that she couldn’t. Whatever “mistake” Miguel was making was too big for her to correct. She kept warning him that his actions had consequences and already he was “disrupting” whatever the “balance” of the “canon” was.

Miguel finally ended the call with a slam of his watch against the rail when Lyla urged him again to “go back.” He swore in Spanish and put his head in his hands seeming lost.

You had debated pretending like you hadn’t overheard then given up and decided you might as well ask him what was wrong. Miguel didn’t even react when you joined him at the fire escape.

When you asked what had happened, he again told you it was a work thing and urged you not to worry. His watch flashed with the name JESS and he declined the call. She insisted a few more times before another name appeared on the screen. This time BEN tried contacting him before he shoved his hand in his pocket and pointedly ignored the messages.

You asked if he should go back and fix whatever error he had made at work and were startled when he growled out a “never. At the sight of your surprise, he had apologized. His arm had come around your waist in a possessive embrace and he had pressed you against his frame. His mouth had planted a kiss against your hair and you had sworn you felt him shaking against you.

Some silence had lapsed between the two of you as you watched New York slowly get ready for the workday. At some point, Miguel had quietly asked you a very bizarre question.

With his eyes seeming far away, he had asked if you ever thought about the universe and if other realities existed. You had given him a blank look wondering why on earth that had crossed his mind, but his thoughts had been far away. You got the sense that he wasn’t really with you at that moment mentally.

At some point, he had offered you a tired smile and sighed. The sound had broken your heart. He had sounded so exhausted and wearied that you had risked a look at his face and seen the dark circles under his eyes and the stress of whatever was happening.

Quietly, he had told you that he believed that other realities existed and that he was sure you and Gaby did too. He had seemed so heartbroken when he had mentioned the different realities that you two could exist in. He had mentioned having a nightmare in which you and Gaby had died. He trembled when he recounted almost in vivid detail how an attack had happened and he had been unable to save you both. How he had watched you both die and how a part of himself had died with you. How he had been an empty shell of a person and had felt hopeless and alone up until he had found you again. In his dream, there was another reality where you both were alive and with him. A reality where he had beaten death and been with you both. He had decided he liked that it reality better than the other one.

You had shivered briefly remembering the horrible events at the bodega for some reason and asked him not to tell you any more. You had held him close and reassured him that it was just a nightmare and that you and Gaby were fine. You were both safe and he would not lose either of you. It had all been just a terrible dream.

By the time he had finally recovered, he had merely leaned down to kiss you and apologized for his morbid thoughts. His fingers had stroked your cheek and he had quietly told you that he loved you and Gaby and would love you in every reality that existed.

You had stayed outside frowning to yourself even as he went back inside. A shiver had run down your spine and you were not quite sure what to make of everything. Some pieces of a puzzle were floating around you, but you had no idea what they meant or why they were important.

In the end, you had gone back inside and merely turned the news back on in time for the reporter to announce more freak accidents and bizarre natural events around the globe.

A few nights later, you would wake to the sound of Miguel at the fire escape again. This time, he was arguing with Jess who was pleading with him to return. She was talking about how Miguel’s “presence” was throwing off a “balance” of some sort and how the world was falling apart. You had frowned unable to make head or tails of the debate as the two threw out phrases you didn’t understand like “multiverse” and “glitches” in the context of their argument.

By the time Miguel had finally angrily told her to stop calling because he knew what he was doing, you had retreated back to your room and had decided to ask him about it in the morning.

Yet, when you brought the topic up, Miguel hadn’t even looked away from the news now announcing that the sinkhole in New York was growing wider and the mayor was declaring a mandatory evacuation around the affected area. Instead, he had quietly told you that you had been dreaming and feigned ignorance when you brought up the weird terms you had heard. You had been forced to drop it when he insisted over and over again that the conversation had never happened and left you questioning whether or not you had made it all up in your sleep.

———————————————

It wouldn’t be until the fifth and final clue that you realized how you had been right all along.

One morning days later, you had woken up to furious pounding on the door. Miguel had jumped up and demanded that you and Gaby stay inside. He had rushed off to meet whoever it was that demanded entry.

Gaby, half asleep had run to you scared. The loud knocks had woken her up and she asked if you knew who it was. Your own heart was racing when you said no.

Holding Gaby tightly, you had heard raised voices coming from the front door. A woman and man were in a screaming match with Miguel. The woman was telling him that enough was enough and that he had done irreparable damage to your universe. She sounded so frightened when she said everything was falling apart.

As if her words had been a prophecy, a tremor had gone through the entire apartment and Gaby had screamed. You had held her close frightened as another aftershock had quickly followed.

Miguel had burst in the room with the woman and man from before. You didn’t recognize either of them but they later introduced themselves as Jess and Ben. His coworkers that he had spent so much time fighting with.

Miguel had held Gaby as she shook from fright and wrapped a protective arm around you. He had promised everything would be okay and he would protect you both. Amidst his reassurances, you had caught the way his hands shook with fear and the panic he was trying so hard to suppress in his gaze.

By this point, the confusion had been so great that you had demanded to know what was happening. Nothing made sense and you got the sense that something was very wrong. It was terrifying.

The three of them had exchanged looks before Jess had told Miguel that if he didn’t tell the truth, she would. Her gaze was sympathetic but firm. In the end, Miguel had told you everything. Jess and Ben had taken Gaby to the living room to allow you both privacy. Once they were gone, the truth came flowing out amidst the wall of lies you had been surrounded by.

He wasn’t your Miguel, he had explained. He was from another dimension and he had powers. He was a superhero that had crossed into your world on his hunt for anomalies in the multiverse.

The explanation seemed so outlandish that you had begun to suspect that you were still dreaming. Still, you hadn’t interrupted as he continued.

Miguel told you that he was from a different reality and had intruded in yours. According to him, the two of you had been married in his reality and you had, had Gaby. You had been happy together and were even expecting a second child when tragedy struck. You and Gaby had died in an attack and he had been unable to stop it from happening. Even his powers had been useless in protecting you both.

Your deaths had destroyed him. He had spent a long time as a husk of himself. Existing merely for the sake of it and having nothing to make him feel alive. He had thought his life was doomed to mourning and loneliness when a “collider” had opened the multiverse.

He had taken it upon himself to save the multiverse and had traveled hunting anomalies when he had discovered your dimension. In your reality, you and your Miguel were married. You had Gaby and you were happy. Your Miguel wasn’t a superhero. He didn’t have the fate of the world on his shoulders and he didn’t have to risk his life every day. You both had a normal life and were a regular family living in New York.

He had envied his alter self and spent time researching your dimension mainly to see both you and Gaby when he had come across plans for the future. Lyla, his virtual assistant as he had explained, had found that your Miguel was destined to die. He was supposed to be in the bodega that night when a robber entered with a gun. An unexplainable urge would make him leave his work during a break with the idea to be at the bodega. The man who never took a break from work would find himself suddenly wanting to leave early and be at the store that night.

Two people would be shot. The owner of the bodega, an old man who had been frightened but would survive, and your Miguel who, despite not being a superhero, would be shot and killed trying to take the gun away. It was an event that the universe had decided would happen.

His death would destroy you and Gaby. You being a stay at home wife would mean that the loss of his paycheck would be a blow. You would struggle to find work and would eventually lose your apartment. Gaby would grow up with housing insecurity and poverty and you would suffer harassment and mistreatment in your desperation to hold a job and provide for your family. The happy life the two of you had built would be shattered.

He couldn’t allow that to happen. Miguel knew you and Gaby would need him, so he snuck into your dimension. When your Miguel died, he had hid his body. It was a simple thing, really. The bodega owner had been unconscious and he had knocked out the robber. By the time the police arrived, they would be convinced by the scene he had set to believe that the owner had been shot defending himself and the robber had been knocked out. The second gunshot people around the area had heard had likely been a misfire although the police wouldn’t find the impact anywhere in the store.

Miguel, not your Miguel but this Miguel, had them come home that night to you and Gaby. He had taken the place of the husband you had lost to protect you both. Gaby needed her father and you needed your husband. He had made it his mission to make you both happy.

But he hadn’t always gotten it right. Despite he and your Miguel being alters of the same person, there were differences between them. Your Miguel was allergic to peanuts and hated spicy food. He wasn’t. Those little discrepancies had made it harder for him to keep his cover.

And worse still, the universe had sensed him.

Everything that had been occurring had been because he was present in a reality that he didn’t belong in. The device on his wrist protected him from “glitching” as he called it, but it couldn’t do anything to stop the universe from falling apart. All of the natural disasters had been because the world was falling away brick by brick. Unknowingly, he had doomed the entire world and become an anomaly.

His story had been so ridiculous and insane that you had just stared at him blankly as he apologized and told you he loved you. When another tremor had shaken the building and photos on the walls had started to fall along with the plaster, Jess had knocked on the door telling the two of you it was too late. You all needed to evacuate.

Your body had gone into autopilot as you had followed after them outside. Neighbors from your building were beginning to evacuate as the high rise shook with more and more earthquakes. Miguel lifted a crying Gaby in his arms as Jess and Ben cleared a way through the swarm of people.

Outside, the view of New York was one you didn’t recognize. The sky was awash in bizarre colors and the ground was cracking with every new earthquake.

Jess and Ben were shouting things at Miguel. They were explaining that the sinkhole was growing wider and the universe was caving in on itself. Already some countries had flickered out of existence. Despite their best efforts, the team they had brought with them had been unable to stop the spread of the issues.

The panic in their faces had been clear. It was too late. Whatever hole in the fabric of time and space in your dimension Miguel had torn in intruding had widened and was consuming the world whole.

Jess and Ben left when buildings began to flicker. Entire high rises disappeared like glitches on a computer screen. The two of them were going to try and see if there was anything more that could be done to stop what was happening. The look Jess had on her face, however, made it clear they knew it was for naught.

Miguel held Gaby tightly as the two of you continued to run. In your wake you saw people flicker out of existence too. Panic spread through you and you grabbed his sleeve as you ran.

Perhaps you should have been angry, should have blamed him for destroying an entire world just to get you and Gaby back, but the fear and the shock of it all doused your anger. The only thing that mattered then in that moment was that your world was falling apart and your family was in danger.

Eventually, the three of you had skidded to a halt. In front of you, more objects were flickering and glitching. Gaby held on to Miguel tightly as she cried and you told Miguel to stop. It was over.

You pushed aside all of the negative emotions you were feeling, the betrayal, the heart ache, the pain, and instead embraced your family tightly.

This Miguel wasn’t your Miguel, but hadn’t he been yours for the past few months? Hadn’t you loved him the same and been happy at his side? Those questions kept you from angrily lashing out. A quiet sort of resignation had flooded you and kept you calm even as the bystanders near you began to disappear in a flash of colors and screams.

Miguel had been terrified as he saw more people die. He had called for Jess and Ben on his watch, but they were gone. They had evacuated back to their own dimensions the moment they had realized it was a lost cause. The only thing Lyla could offer him now was a quiet apology and a plea for him to go back to his own world.

His watch, you realized, would protect him from the end of the world. He was an anomaly in foreign space. Despite being the harbinger of doom for your dimension, he would be shielded by his watch and would be able to flee with a single tap on his wrist.

He had tried to take it off, perhaps intending to die with you both or to offer it to one of you just to try and save at least one, but you had firmly told him not to. It was too late. Your luck had run out. You had felt strangely accepting about it all and even Gaby’s tears had dried. The certainty of death had brought about a steady calm.

Despite knowing that the imposter in front of you had been the one to bring about your death, you still embraced him tightly and kissed him one last time. You still let Gaby hug him and bury her face in his chest. You still told him it would all be okay even as Gaby flickered and disappeared before your eyes.

And by the time it was your turn, you offered him a weak smile and another profession of love before the colors started to flicker and change around you.

Perhaps you should have hated him for lying to you. For minimizing your suspicions all of those months and making you feel like you were being paranoid. Perhaps you should have hated him for replacing your husband and lying to you over and over again. Perhaps you should have been furious that he had destroyed an entire universe to find you and Gaby, but a voice at the back of your head told you, you would have done the same for him. Had you been in his place, you would have traveled dimensions just to be by his side again. That was what truly loving someone meant.

So when a searing pain began to fill your senses and the glitching returned, you only said one last “I love you” before the world evaporated around you. Somewhere in the last dregs of consciousness you could hear Miguel screaming for you and Gaby, but the quiet darkness of death stole you away before you could do anything about it.

In the end, the man who was tasked with restoring anomalies had become an anomaly himself and the love he bore his family had doomed an entire dimension.

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #across the spiderverse #cross posted on ao3 #divider by silkholland

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unluckiestmember · 1 year

Note

Hey. Could do headcanons of Gwen Stacy x No Powers! Reader, please? Recently I remembered Gwen's story and especially the incident with her Peter Parker, so I felt curious to know what her relationship would be like with a Reader who admires Gwen's heroic figure, however, as well as her old Peter, they are powerless, without any notorious particularities and feel interested in becoming something more, someone special like Gwen. Y'know, an uncertainty of seemingly everything is repeating itself.

Coming right up!

Gwen Stacy X Powerless! Reader

Characters: Gwen Stacy/Spider-Woman

Tags: Can be read as platonic, can be read as romantic, oblivious!reader, supportive friend/girlfriend, confidence boosts, bullying and semi fluff.

Warning: None. SFW.

A/N: Yeeeeeaaaah, so I know you were probably looking for a dark outcome, but I feel we don't have enough fluff around these parks and I'm a sucker for that, so ya. Enjoy, I am so sorry!

For such a fan of Spider-Woman, Gwen was surprised you couldn’t connect the dots.

She loved how you were inspired by her heroic persona enough to try and make little changes around you.

Was especially proud when you even used that to stand up for others who couldn’t take care of themselves.

This did result in you getting bullied though.

But Gwen would always be there to pick you up and chew out your harassers.

She loves how you talk about Spider-Woman being an icon to live up to, trust me, she does!

But she wishes you saw how powerful you were.

All you could see was someone who was ordinary, maybe the lowest of the low.

But in her eyes? You were way more than that.

You were her best friend, just like Miles. Just like Peter…

She would voice it at random moments during lunch or when you are both hanging out at the arcade.

She would also remind you in your lowest moments, touching your cheek and proclaiming in a whisper how spectacular you are.

You would believe her. But it was so hard when you are so normal.

You weren’t like her, you couldn’t easily go up against rude people and take care of others successfully.

You weren’t like Spider-Woman, who made everything look so easy.

That’s why you went to work in the lab, creating serum after serum of liquids that could hopefully give you the powers you desired.

You wanted to be like Spider-Woman? This was the only way.

… Until it wasn’t.

One day, you were visited by Spider-Woman herself! In the flesh, speaking to you of all people!

She told you how amazing you are, even without powers. Even if you tried to argue against it, she would just shut you down with the best of claims;

“You stood up for a kid the other day at school, even if the bully was twice your size! You helped your best friend Gwen with her project! You were there for her when she was at her lowest and lifted her up!”

It was a bit odd that she knew everything you did for your best friend, but that didn’t cloud the adrenaline and serotonin you gained.

You two talked all night, forgetting about everything and for once in your life, you felt invincible.

After that night, you realized something; You were normal, but that was okay.

Being ordinary didn’t mean you were weak or helpless, especially when you still try your best for yourself and for others.

Powers don’t make the hero, you do.

You also realized something else; How the hell did it take you this long to realize your best friend was the Spider-Woman?!

Spider-Verse Requests are open!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day!

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phoenixcatch7 · 9 months

Text

Kintsukuroi

'What if I put a clock pendulum in my torso' was the sort of question Bruce had come to expect when visiting Oracle.

"Pendulums are dependant on a stable base," he replied, because the last time he'd assumed they were being unserious Tim had tried to fit a chemistry test lab in his mouth and accidentally leaked the fumes through his mask.

"It'd be so aesthetic though," said Barbara, not looking up from the dozen screens she was surrounded by. "Listen. It would look so cool - Spoiler, robbery on fifth and main - Especially if I put a clock face over my heart."

"I thought you were trying to fit a super computer in it?"

"I was, but progress is slow. It's hard to fit it and enough padding to protect it plus leave enough room for ventilation. If I add the pendulum I might at least get inspiration." She gave a heavy sigh and pushed away from the desk, gliding in her chair to where her doll body was resting on a table, the glue separating the two halves of the smashed torso still glistening. Bruce followed, peering over her at the many scanners and wires hooked into it, flashing and beeping.

"Any luck?" he asked, and they both knew he wasn't talking about the computer anymore.

"Nothing."

He squeezed her shoulder, and she leant into it. They stayed there for a long moment.

"I just don't understand!" Barbara finally burst out, hands clenching on her chair arms. "I glued nearly every single piece back together! I made sure every splinter I could find went exactly where it should! I know the contract is still there. She's worked with more missing pieces before. But she's just not responding!"

"It's not you," Bruce soothed. "You've more than enough determination and strength to puppet, and we know the human body's state doesn't affect performance."

"That's the thing!" Barbara threw her hands up angrily, nearly smacking Bruce in the face. There was a chatter over comms, and both reached for their own. "One second," she said tightly, and wheeled back into the glow of the monitors. "Copy. BW, you're nearest? Thanks. Try and avoid the sniper this time. Wing, backup is in five."

She muted again and spun around, pinning Bruce with a heavy stare. "Is there anything, anything you can think of? We've - nothing I've tried has worked."

"Well...." He trailed off, one hand coming up to rub at the chin of his mask - a quiet night meant the opportunity to forgo the practical but muffling gas mask for his favoured plain black.

It was far from the first time a doll had been horrifically damaged. The incident with Bane came to mind - Batman had been in a very similar condition, body shorn clean in two and tossed to opposite corners. It was an awful memory, but the expression on Bane and the audience's faces as his bloodless body fell apart like a rotting tree trunk and then kept moving was a silver lining he'd always treasure.

But he'd been repaired and back on his feet in weeks, if bearing the incandescent fury of the doll for several more. It had been months for Barbara, and still nothing was happening.

"There's something we're missing, and I doubt it's on your side."

"I know THAT-"

"Listen," he demanded, and her jaw clicked shut mutinously. "There's something we're not seeing. Batgirl is in no shape to demand it herself, it seems. So its inaction is something we can't fully rely on."

"You've got the most experience with the dolls of all of us. Can you.. I don't know, sense anything?"

"Nothing more than the usual, with the Patriarch Doll, but we might get more if we return to the doll house -"

"No." Barbara interrupted again, but Bruce did not take offence. "She's not going anywhere. She doesn't want to head back to the cave."

Oh?

"She doesn't want to, or she doesn't care to?"

"I say she doesn't."

Interesting. This was likely a case of the doll exerting its will. The bats were well versed in avoiding the few lines their wooden bodies drew in the sand, treating them with the wary respect one would give a favorite blade or a highly trained attack dog. They could work together, share the highs and lows of life with them, but never get complacent. The dolls were forever a foreign, inhuman presence, and as with all wild creatures they would never be so arrogant as to assume full understanding. For Barbara to so strongly decide for the doll meant she was most likely not the only one deciding.

Which meant the solution would not be found in the cave.

"Perhaps there are upgrades she wishes to have?"

Oracle paused.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But there's practically a limitless amount of things I could do, and I wouldn't know where to start. And I could more easily do them when she's up and walking."

Not that then. If the doll wanted something to change but not receive upgrades or heal, than what?

... Not heal.

Batman hurried to the table. Oracle watched him with hawk eyes, but another call on the comms turned her away with a final warning glance.

Recovering every single splinter from a damaged wooden object and perfectly reattaching it was nigh impossible on a good day, never mind in the dead of night with a moving target. The dolls always returned to the cave to regenerate scratches and nicks they couldn't buff out, or accepted plaster to transmute with whatever supernatural power guided them.

The batgirl on the table, divested of all covering and armour, was still as chipped and scuffed as the day nightwing recovered last splinter.

The pieces fell into place.

"She doesn't want to be perfectly rebuilt," he realised. "She doesn't want the damage to disappear as it normally does... She wants it to remain visible. A different type of repair, then."

Oracle spun in her wheelchair to face him.

"Why?" she asked, something sharp in her eyes. Bruce chose his next words carefully.

"Perhaps she thinks such damage doesn't need to be hidden away," he said, slowly, and didn't comment when she turned away. Though she put on a strong face, and the doctors had recently released her full time, it would be a long time until the young hero was able to truly heal her mind.

"She doesn't need to do that for me. She's just causing me trouble."

"I don't think she is," he tried. "Dolls tend to reflect their puppeteer even after they accept us. You can't deny your trajectory has been changed."

They both sent a significant look to the enormous super computer taking up the wall.

"You've said you almost feel better able to protect Gotham now, with your reach and skills. Do you really feel that way?"

"I - I don't -" her mouth worked silently, and Bruce waited. "I mean I guess... But a part of me always assumed it'd be temporary, you know? Once I fixed batgirl.. It'd all return to normal." Her voice wobbled, and Bruce didn't hesitate to crouch before her, wrapping her in a long armed hug. She buried herself in his chest, regardless of the chilled metal.

"It's okay if you don't," he whispered into her hair, and held her as she shook. "I'm just throwing ideas around."

"I do though," she rasped. "I think I do feel that way. There's so much that can't be solved by violence, and it feels good to be out there but... I think I can help even more people, this way."

"That's good," he praised, "that's good. You can do whatever you set your mind to."

"You stole that from a parenting book verbatim."

"It's applicable to the current situation."

"Fine," she sighed, and pushed him away to roughly scrub at her eyes. "I'll give the doll another chance. Find some glitter glue or something, I don't know."

"Any materials you need will be provided," he promised. "I wouldn't recommend glitter glue or our usual tar."

He moved to pat her on the hair as the emotions of the moment faded, making sure to keep his unsheathed claws out of her hair.

"Once you fix her, though, I would recommend you puppet the doll during night hours still," he told her. "It wouldn't be good to put your body through twenty hour days."

"I've got a good system set up for now, but thank, B-man."

The computer dinged with another alert, and oracle spun to squint at it with a muffled curse, typing furiously. Batman escaped to the other side of the room, where the folders he'd originally come looking for lay. She waved, distracted, as he left, and although the doll could not smile, he could feel it on his face all the same.

@puppetmaster13u I summon thee dear mutual ^^

#I don't know which of us came up with the kintsukuroi idea but it worked brilliantly #Unexpected discussion of clinging to the idea of normality as something that can be returned to despite thinking you're okay with your #Life altering chronic condition diagnosis 🫠#Off screen nightwing is just not having a good time #I'm still testing out my characterisation of b but I'm pretty happy with him. Good dad b but also pre/no Ethiopia so he's healthier as it i #Oh btw the dolls don't have gender being inanimate the bats are anthropomorphising them #In the same way sailors call their boats she or my mum decided the roomba is a he #Some world building! I stuffed a lot in lol #I like the idea of the bats having different masks. Like the gas mask is for arkham breakouts or gas villains or ivy so it's the famous one #But they also use plain cloth masks or ceramic ones or decorative ones when the occasion calls. They've got scuba ones too #long post #batman #world building #worldbuilding #bruce wayne #possessed doll au #haunted doll #cryptid batman #cryptid batfam #batman au #dc oracle #barbara gordon #batgirl #I'm trying to keep the dolls as mindless but watchful as possible #Like they don't have opinions or ideas or anything. You could do literally whatever you wanted as long as you follow The Rules #I don't think the bats really know about the contracts. I think b has inferred something. But it's more trial and error #One idea I had is that the dolls are powered by the life force of past users mutated into... Whatever tf from all the curses.#So by entering the contract you lose a significant chunk of your ability to enter the afterlife.#Yes this would only be noticed by the jl going to the future and trying to find the souls of everyone or smth for whatever reason #And the bats don't have much of anything. Leading to the further impression that they aren't remotely human

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zapreportsblog · 9 months

Note

Hello. Yandere Miguel O'Hara and female reader. The reader catches Miguel's eye after she joins the spider community. After a while, Miguel realizes that he wants to find the reader waiting for him to come home from work at the house where they will live together. And with at least five children.

❝a new spider in my web❞

✭ pairing : yandere miguel o’hara x reader

✭ fandom : spiderman into the spiderverse

✭ summary : the moment Miguel laid his eyes on here he knew she was it for him, he didn’t care if they couldn’t be together, he’d make something work. He always did

✭ authors note : none of these are my art just a heads up I found them on Pinterest

✭ spiderman into the spiderverse masterlist

In the bustling heart of the Spider-Verse community, where spider-folk from countless dimensions converged, a new arrival was about to catch the attention of one particular spider.

Miguel O'Hara, known in his dimension as Spider-Man 2099, stood atop a towering skyscraper, his sharp eyes scanning the sprawling metropolis below. His costume, a sleek blue and white suit, shimmered in the city's neon glow as he maintained his vigilant watch over the Spider-Verse.

It was an ordinary day in this extraordinary place, or so it seemed until Gwen Stacy, the Spider-Woman of her dimension, swung by with effortless grace through a portal and landed beside Miguel. Her white and black suit glistened like moonlight against the darkened skyline. Gwen had been one of the few to join the Spider-Verse community, and she had seen her fair share of newcomers.

"Hey, Miguel," she greeted him with a friendly nod. "Got a moment?"

Miguel raised a brow at her but nodded, curious. Gwen had a way of making even the most routine days interesting or troublesome in his eyes. "What is it, Gwen?"

Gwen smiled, her eyes sparkling with a hint of excitement. "Well I know you’ve been trusting me more and more for the mission we’ve had so far and so I brought someone new to the community today, and I think you'll want to meet her."

Miguel arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Another spider-person? What makes this one special and why wasn’t I alerted of this beforehand? You know you can’t just bring someone random without going over it with me first.”

Gwen's grin widened just slightly, “She's different, I swear! In her universe, she's their Spider-Woman, obviously but when she got bitten, look just check her out miguel. What’s the harm in it, plus she's... pretty unique."

As Gwen spoke, the night air suddenly crackled with a strange energy. Moments later, a figure swung into view, suspended by clear glistening webbing. Miguel's eyes widened as he saw her for the first time.

Her form bathed in the eerie glow of the main room labs lights, descended gracefully from her webline. She was a striking sight, like something out of a dream and a nightmare all at once. Her lower half was a delicate, iridescent exoskeleton, resembling that of a spider, while her upper body remained unmistakably human. Her costume blended seamlessly with her arachnid lower half, creating an otherworldly fusion.

Miguel couldn't tear his eyes away. This newcomer was unlike any spider-person he had ever encountered. Her presence exuded an air of mystery and power that was impossible to ignore.

Gwen chuckled at Miguel's reaction. "See what I mean? She's going to be a game-changer around here."

Miguel finally found his voice. "You brought her to here to the spiderverse already? Since you didn’t bother telling me of her arrival does Jess at least know.”

Gwen nodded. "Yes, and I think she's going to be a valuable addition to our team. (Y/N) is her name, by the way."

As (Y/N) touched down gracefully on the rooftop, her multifaceted eyes met Miguel's. There was a brief, electric connection between them, an unspoken understanding of the extraordinary circumstances they had both found themselves in.

Miguel extended a hand, a smile playing on his lips. "Welcome to the Spider-Verse, I would say I’ve heard good things about you but I didn’t know of your existence until now.”

That earnt him a laugh from the woman, “It’s all cool, I’ve come to notice that Gwen tends to do her own thing at times. But it’s a pleasure to meet you, I am (y/n).”

“(Y/n) huh…nice name. I’m Miguel, the spiderman of this universe and creator of the spiderverse.”

With that simple gesture, a new chapter in (Y/N)'s journey as an extraordinary spider-being began, and Miguel couldn't help but wonder what incredible adventures lay ahead in this web of endless possibilities.

Miguel couldn't deny his fascination with (Y/N), and as the days passed, he took every opportunity to get to know her abilities, her strengths, and her vulnerabilities. Gwen's intuition had been right; (Y/N) was unique, not just in her appearance but in her spider-powers as well.

Their missions together became a testing ground, and Miguel found himself in the dual role of mentor and admirer. (Y/N) had an uncanny ability to adapt to any situation. Her agility and dexterity were unmatched, her spider-silk threads stronger and more versatile than any he'd seen before.

As they swung through the city, tracking down threats and facing down villains, Miguel couldn't help but watch (Y/N) in action. Her movements were like a mesmerizing dance, fluid and graceful. Her eyes, a mesmerizing blend of human warmth and arachnid determination, held a fierce focus that drew him in.

Yet, his captivation came at a cost. There were moments when his preoccupation with her put him in harm's way. A misplaced web-swing, a delayed reaction, or an enemy's surprise attack—it seemed like Miguel's attention was often divided.

One fateful night, in the midst of a heated battle with a formidable foe, Miguel found himself momentarily caught off guard. Before he could react, an energy blast was hurtling towards him. In that split second, (Y/N) moved with lightning speed, positioning herself between Miguel and the danger. Her spider-silk shield absorbed the brunt of the blast, saving Miguel from serious injury.

As the dust settled, Miguel's heart raced, and he couldn't shake the feeling that (Y/N) had shielded him not just out of duty but out of a deeper connection. It was a thought that haunted him, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to their partnership than met the eye.

In the aftermath of the battle, as they regrouped with Gwen, Miles, and Hobie, Miguel's thoughts were a tumultuous whirlwind. He kept his inner musings to himself, not daring to voice the growing obsession that whispered in the recesses of his mind.

Hobie, ever perceptive, gave Miguel a knowing look “Dontcha think you’ve been watching the new girl a bit too hard there mate?”

Miguel blinked, caught off guard by the question. "What? No, I—"

Gwen chimed in with a playful grin. "It's okay, Miguel. We all see how you look at her. Told you she was something special.”

Miles nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I mean sure there’s a T-Rex that’s a Spiderman? Spider-Rex? But like a whole half humanoid spider? That’s pretty wicked too.”

Miguel couldn't deny it any longer, not that he’d voice it. His feelings for (Y/N) had grown into something more than just admiration. He cared for her deeply, and the thought that she might feel the same way both thrilled and terrified him.

“You three know nothing. I don’t have feelings for (y/n) im simply assessing her skills. Nothing more, now leave me be.” Miguel says turning his back to the three youngsters.

He couldn't risk their partnership by letting his emotions get the best of him. So, like always, he kept his feelings locked away, buried beneath his stoic exterior, all while secretly cherishing every moment he spent with (Y/N), the extraordinary spider-woman who had captured his heart.

Miguel had been waiting for the right moment to talk to (Y/N) about the upcoming mission. He knew it was crucial, and he needed to ensure her full attention and commitment. As he walked down the corridor towards her quarters, his mind was filled with thoughts of the mission's details, but also of his deep affection for (Y/N). He couldn't help but smile as he thought about their future together.

However, as he approached her door, his smile faded. He saw Riley, a fellow agent, standing in front of (Y/N). Riley was flexing his muscles and engaging in conversation with her. A wave of jealousy and possessiveness washed over Miguel. He clenched his fists, feeling a surge of anger. (Y/N) was his; he couldn't stand the thought of her being with someone like Riley.

Miguel hesitated for a moment, debating whether to confront them. Instead, he turned on his heels and walked away. He couldn't bear to see (Y/N) with someone else, not when he loved her so deeply.

Retreating to his office, Miguel locked the door behind him. He needed to clear his mind and focus on something other than his jealousy. He sat down at his desk and began reviewing clips and videos he had taken of (Y/N) in action. Each time he paused a video, it was at the moment her face was on display. He couldn't help himself, his obsession with her consuming his every thought.

Miguel started to mumble to himself, reassuring himself that (Y/N) was his and that she loved him, even if she was too shy to say it. He envisioned a future together, a family they would build. He wondered if their children would inherit his or her looks, or perhaps a perfect blend of both. He imagined their first born would be a girl, their very own daughter, a mommy's girl just like him, adoring (Y/N) as much as he did.

He envisioned her carrying more of their children, would they be eggs or would she carry them like a regular mother did in pregnancy?

In his isolated office, Miguel was lost in his fantasies. He couldn't wait for the day when (Y/N) would truly be his, and he was determined to make that future a reality.

As Miguel continued to grapple with the complexities of his relationship with (Y/N), he couldn't help but think about the obstacles they faced. The idea of two Spider-People together raised concerns of potential conflicts or even the risk of creating a catastrophic event in their world. Society had its expectations, its rules, and its fears, but Miguel knew deep down that he couldn't simply let (Y/N) slip away.

Each time he pictured (Y/N) with someone else, whether it was their own MJ or Gwen, or even a complete stranger, an unsettling feeling gnawed at him. It was as if the universe itself was protesting against any scenario where they weren't together. It was in these moments of doubt and insecurity that Miguel realized their unique connection.

He whispered to himself in the solitude of his office, "No one else would accept our flaws." He understood that they were perfect for each other precisely because they could see past each other's imperfections and still love each other deeply.

Miguel knew the risks, the potential consequences of their love, but as he thought about a world falling apart, it didn't matter to him. In his heart, he knew that having (Y/N) in his arms was worth any sacrifice, even if it meant the world crumbling around them. Their love was a force that defied the ordinary, and he was willing to defy the world if it meant they could be together.

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