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sweetimpurity · 8 months ago

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{💓} day 27!! coming in a little late whoopsie! hopefully everyone likes this ending, I think it's a little bit of everything all in one! love ya! thanks for keeping up with this! wc: 1.8k {💖}

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Earth 546

The ride to the hospital is long and painful. Closing your eyes from the pressure and ache in your head, shooting up from your nose and aching behind your eyes. Miguel sits with you, holding your hand and mentally cursing himself. He should have realized what he had before he lost it. The two months he was without you, they were the worst. Wondering where you were. If you were safe. His multiple screens where he’d spend countless hours scouring his databases for any information that might reveal your whereabouts. And working with Lyla to track that portal. Eventually falling down the rabbit hole that led him to you finally.

And now this. To see you’ve managed to latch onto this so quickly. This version of himself that was ready to give you everything. He just feels so bad. He let you down. He sighs, leaning his head down on yours. Those years you’ve spent together at the front of his mind. He can’t blame you for the way you reacted. Just accepting Mig’s love because it was the thing you needed all along.

Mig keeps looking back in the rearview mirror as he drives. Keeping an eye on you and Miguel in the back. He knows he did wrong. But his intentions were pure. His only intention was to give you love. Love you’d been longing for. And to escape that life he'd been stuck in forever. But he did that at the cost of lying right to your face and taking you from the home you knew.

“We’re here…” He sighs, looking back at the two of you in the backseat. Pulling into the emergency room parking lot. Miguel perks up, turning off his suit and the nanotech disappears, leaving him in his regular clothes. An outfit you recognize. Those gray pants and the light gray long sleeve with the thumb cutouts. An ache in your chest. Realizing this really is your Miguel. Looking in his eyes over the mess of tissue at your nose. He just gives you a knowing look, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s okay…”

Mig does the same. His suit disappearing and his work clothes underneath. Running a hand through his messy hair. Parking the car and sighing.

The three of you make it out of the car and through the automatic doors. Entering the waiting room and getting a few looks from people. These two hulking twins escorting a bleeding you through the lobby. Like guard dogs. Glaring at anyone who dares look your way. Miguel holding your hand and Mig’s hand on your back guiding you through to the front desk.

Soon you’re getting tended to by a kind older nurse. Cleaning up your bloody nose and giving you some stronger pain killers to help with the swelling. At your request, the boys are waiting out in the lobby. Sitting with an empty chair between them. Crossed arms and huffs, frowning at the floor and waiting for you to return.

Each of them has a few choice words for the other.

“You couldn’t have picked a dimension with some higher tech? This place is like 2030…” Miguel huffs, rolling his eyes. Glaring around at the hospital. If they were on Earth 928, he’d be able to treat your broken nose himself in minutes in his lab. But since Mig did all this, this is what they have to settle for.

“This place seemed safe…” Mig says, staring blankly at the floor.

Miguel scoffs, looking at him with a furrowed brow. “You act like we’re not superhuman geniuses… who can quite literally jump between dimensions. We can do anything we want and not many people could stop you…” Miguel says matter of factly. Clasping his hands together.

“My dimension’s messed up… ” Mig says. Blinking and tapping his fingers on the armrest. “Everything feels wrong there… things glitch, my whole life there was like one big glitch.”

Miguel nods and listens. Feeling empathetic to his struggle. He can understand why he did what he did. But he still can’t help but feel it’s his duty to make things right with you. Whatever that may mean. Even if it means you leaving him for good this time. All this started with you two, it should be resolved that way too.

“Well there are a lot of universes out there… People like you and me aren’t meant to stay in just one. Your whole life could be waiting for you and you wouldn’t even know it.” Miguel says. Feeling more optimistic than usual. Of course, he sees his own struggle in his fellow Miguel.

“Whatever happens now… it’s gonna be her decision. And we’ll have to take it as it is.”

It’s silent for a bit before the doors open finally and you walk out with an ice pack in hand. A butterfly bandage over your swollen nose. But you’re all cleaned up now. Walking over and instead of sitting in between then, you sit across from them, facing them. The three of you settling into a heavy silence.

“I’m sorry…” Mig is the first to speak. Not looking up at the two of you yet. Looking down at his hands. It’s quiet, letting his apology sink in.

“Yeah I’m really sorry… I don’t know what I was thinking…” Mig sighs. “I didn’t want to hurt you… but I should have been honest from the beginning.” He hums more seriously. His eyes flicking up and expecting to see hatred in your expression but your face is surprisingly soft.

“And I’m sorry…” Miguel says. And you find his eyes on you. His apology feeling much more heavy. Three years of your life you spent with this man. This was all pretty messed up to begin with. Both of them messed up big time.

“I didn’t want to hurt you either… but I was selfish… and ignorant. I didn’t know what I had until it was gone...” Miguel huffs. Looking in your eyes.

“I guess we’re just wired to love you… in every dimension…” Miguel says with a slight sad smile. The two of them watching you from across the row of seating.

“Me too…” You sigh with a pained grin.

5 years later… Earth 928

You’re home. Back where you started. After having spent some time away from any and all versions of Miguel O’hara. After the hospital, you said goodbye. You gave the ring back and a tearful goodbye to Mig who wished you nothing but love and joy in your life. And he told you about his plans to explore more of the multiverse and try to establish his own life somewhere, instead of framing his life off of the variants that are his parallel, but not his mirror.

Getting back home, you decided it was best to part ways with Miguel as well. At least for a while. After the deep hurt he caused, you needed to heal on your own for a while and figure out what you want and how to love yourself first. You landed a promotion the next year, moving up a position at your job surprisingly after having to explain to them the very unique reason for your two month absence. Picked up some new hobbies after getting your own apartment. Growing flowers and herbs on the fire escape and who knew you could paint?! Made some new friends in the neighborhood. And all was well.

Miguel spent his time focusing on the Spider Society. Guiding his team to protect the multiverse and working to preserve the precious timelines from running out of control. He was able to do so with the help of Lyla, Peter B, Jess and all the spider teens. And finally after five years, he’s passing the Society off to those teens who are now adults. Spiderpeople in their own right and passionate about keeping the multiverse and all its inhabitants safe. And leading the Society as a united front. Knowing it will take them some time to grow into the role but he’s willing to help them all along the way.

Miguel plans to take a step back from the Society. And from his work as Spiderman 2099 as a whole. What with the baby on the way, he wants to be able to spend all his important time with you.

One year ago, you reconnected. After spending nearly 4 years apart, he happened to check in and it happened to be on the date of your anniversary. Talking about old memories changed to talking over dinner again. And without half his mind distracted by the multiversal collapse, he could focus on you and only you. He can’t help but feel oddly grateful to Mig all those years ago for making him see what he was missing, making him realize what he was losing. You.

This time he wasted no time. Proposing to you six months later and knowing it’s right this time. Not wanting to lose you, not wanting to risk you feeling the way you did ever again. Wanting to do right by you. From now on and always.

You were married in a tiny ceremony at HQ. Peter B cried, Miles did too.

And now a few months after that, you’re pregnant with your very first! It’s all you ever dreamt of. All you wanted. The family, the stability, the feeling of home with the man you love. And you have to feel grateful to Mig too because he showed you, you were deserving of unconditional love. At the time, Miguel just couldn’t show it. Right person, wrong time. But he’s learned better now.

Miguel has already been decorating the nursery with little pink web designs. Full papa spider mode getting the nest ready for the arrival of your little one. And though the journey hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing… you’re together at last and on the same page. And Mig 731 isn’t doing too bad himself…

…

Mig traveled the multiverse all these years. Going to worlds he never knew existed. Timelines that are so different from his own. Always searching for a new adventure and coming out of his shell. The shell his broken dimension always forced him into. Feeling a freedom he never had before. Not when he was sitting at home, watching other Miguel’s have lives he could only dream of having. Not readily having the technology to actually get out and seize his chance.

Along the way, he even met a certain someone who took his breath away. You. From Earth 764A. A feisty spider woman and the prettiest in the multiverse. And when he learned you didn’t have a Miguel in your timeline, it was like the gates of fate opened and he saw the light. The two of you traveling to fantastic worlds unknown! And falling in love all the while. Spending the rest of his days with you, the only version of you that he feels he was meant to find. Miguel was right, his whole life was out there waiting for him. You were out there waiting for him. He just had to go looking...

And they all lived happily ever after…

The end.

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh @maxad99 @muuuwoppppp @reader-1290

@sp0ck136 @lazyninjaphilosopher

@pinkdizzyship @opalwitchart

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

plus those who requested a part 2+:

@d3stin7 @laysmt @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @marshhbs

@twwcs @resident-clown @haveclayeveryday

@fullmetal-spiderling @grumpyahjumma

@lxverrings @lazyjellyfish300 @nightingale1011

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diejager · 2 years ago

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Bittersweet Devotion pt.2

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Cw: angst, heartbreak, mention of cheating, mention of death, no happy ending, apology, tell me if I missed any. wc: 9.3k

Your universe, Earth-XXX, was a parallel one to Earth-616 in some sense. You had a Peter Parker, a Gwen Stacy and a Mary Jane Watson, it had everything down to the death of Ben Parker and the devastation it brought to your friend. It was the same year as Spider-Man 616’s world, it had the same political standing and same history. Your world, like many others, was a near carbon copy of 616, down to the smallest things; but like others in the spiderverse, you had differences. Some were minor changes in the course of its canon story, others were major changes in the characters and the era.

You - like Miguel, Miles, Jess, Hobart (he liked going by Hobie), Patrick and Patriv - were one of those major deviations in the original canon. You didn’t exist - or so you thought - in Peter B. or Peter’s universe even though you lived in the same year. The reason might be that in the reality, the sum of all potential universes that paralleled each other, created the multiverse - the Spiderverse.

The concept of it seemed strangely unlimited, the infinite possibilities to a different ending or a different start for its world. The multiverse was, in some sense, as old as time, a culmination of everything made imaginable by man. Found in ancient texts - the Puranas, ancient Hindu mythology - that expressed the infinite number of universes with their gods and principles. Whereas Persian literature - tales - touched the idea of learning about alternate universes that were similar, yet distinctly different from theirs.

Misconstrued by many, the strangeness of it was deemed a danger, the unknown possibilities were feared by people of older age, but venerated in the past as it was in the present for the unfathomable possibilities. It exists in fiction, where they borrowed the idea of many worlds within a reality from myths, legends and religion. Heaven, Hell, Olympus and Valhalla were all reflections of a familiar world, a material realm for the blessed, the sinful, the gods, and the worthy. The similarities sometimes frightened you, how close the people were to knowing of the reality you all lived in. The tangibility of crossing worlds and bringing about chaos to every string, every realm, every material form of the multiverse.

They, after all, were real, Hell as much as Heaven in your universe. Gods from every religion, either monotheistic or polytheistic, some you’d personally seen are Thor and Loki, brother and sons of Odin the Allfather, and the God of Thunder and Mischief respectively. Another was a big crocodile lady, Ammit, from what you’d heard from the all-knowing Dr. Strange. From God to Norse and Egyptian gods, from angels and demons, and from humans to mutants, your plane of existence was as wide as it could go without drifting off the edge and causing a mass domino effect within the multiverse.

You were curious, naturally so for a scientist, exploring the worlds that felt familiar to you but you hadn’t truly grasped - different, yet similar. You hadn’t given a second thought to exploring yours. After all, why explore yours when your horizon was as broad as you imagined it, unperturbed by any limits when it came to the multiverse? The eternal and unlimited growing number of realms in your expanding reality.

Perhaps that was the reason why you hadn’t known your universe had its own Miguel O’Hara. You rarely came back for anything, you had everything you’ve ever wanted in Nueva York, Earth-928. You have friends who could truly understand you, people who stood beside you when you fought, youngsters who looked up to you for mentoring and a dream- or it was a dream. Dreams, not dissimilar to wishes, were hopeful, naive in a way, they came and went. Some dreams would come true, while others fell, like the fallen stars that crossed the night sky.

Yours simply happened to be a fallen one, one not meant to happen and become greater. You let it go after he dropped you, after he turned his back and let his mouth run unperturbed. He brought her up, someone he swore he would remember but left in the past. A new chance to become something, to become whole again, and Miguel took it. He wanted to start anew, fresh with someone he never met, you wanted the same; you both had what you wished for, until he put his foot down, cutting the thin web that connected both your lives.

It broke your heart. Months of patience and anxiously stepping around each other, nervous about breaking the trust freshly built between you both, lost in a few weeks. You were brittle, heart fractured and threatening to fall further apart if someone was any crueller to you. The smallest glare, the tiniest scoff or the weakest remark would send you reeling into the abyss of heartbreak and the throes of anguish. Yet somehow, you found yourself being led away by a copy of the Miguel you loved.

He mumbled apologies as he held you tightly, his arm over your shoulder as he cradled you under his umbrella, hastily urging you to follow his guidance. If it were any other person, you would’ve been wary, cautious of any strangers that touched you so closely and chaperoned you so quickly; but this was Miguel, a man you trusted and that you still trusted wherever he came from. Earth-XXX’s Miguel O’Hara was still similar to the one you knew, someone you could trust. You did.

He led you to his flat, someplace near Alchemax’s building in Manhattan, a safe neighbourhood for the richer citizens of Manhattan. A cozy place of neutral tones and muted colours, yet warm as he welcomed you - a stranger as of yet - into his home. He had machinery strewn around, reports stacked on his coffee table and smaller things he had been tinkering about decorating his home. As a geneticist, he liked to play with machinery, having drawn his designs and models, built his creations from scratch and worked from the base programming to make something better. At least Miguel from Earth-928 did, and it seemed this one did as well.

You stood in his shower, where he left you in a frenzy to bring you dry clothes, drying out your hair with the towel he motioned you to use. You doubted that he had anything your size, his broad shoulders and his towering height, nothing he had in his draws - and the boxes he stowed away in his closet - would fit you. They would drag down your ankle and sit low on your collar. Granted, you were soaked down to your socks and had no temporary clothes to cover yourself with during your stay.

You had stripped from your soaked clothes and patted down your wet skin, shivering from the cold that clung to your bones even after Miguel had increased the heater in the small confines of the bathroom. It was small but big enough to move around and stretch your arms comfortably. You hadn’t felt the cold until he brought you to his bathroom, the numbness of the past months weighing heavily on your shoulders and the bleeding of your heart made everything seem so meaningless. The colours draining from the world around you, a once bright New York turned grey, the monochrome tones of black and white mixing and interlacing to form even more boring shades.

The vibrancy and life you once saw around you dulled and died suddenly, like the winters brought by Demeter’s devastation and sadness when her daughter was taken from her, stolen from the berth of flowers she liked frolicking about. How Demeter doomed the world to see her pain, to feel how she felt in the moments her daughter had to return to her husband than stay with Demeter. You felt laden by your faults and his actions. Doubtful of your relationship, of what led you both to such an ending. Had you been clearer or more forthcoming about your emotions, or had you confronted him for his behaviour, would you still be in his arms?

Were you at fault for missing something you had relied on as comfort and safety? Could you be blamed for his reaction to your meddling in his affairs in the Society? Could you blame him for dropping those words on you? After all, being reminded or compared to a past lover was anything but gentle, the gut-wrenching envy and betrayal you felt flash through you was nearly drowning. It made you feel lacking, to be reminded of his old flame, the one he was about to marry and the person he seemed to love before all. Could you even compare to what she was; what she did? (Dina had cheated on him, you knew that, but he was truly happy in their moments of pleasure and domesticity. They were a family until she died.)

You were drowning in your self-made sorrow when his voice called you, grounding you to the room. Standing before a door, naked and shivering, arms wrapping the damp towel around your shoulders. He called again, cracking the door open to pass you the - his - clothes he thought would fit you. He coughed as you took your temporary wear, your cool fingers brushing his warm ones. It was a sudden and jerking contact, you pulled back jerkingly, a shamble of an apology and a thank you flew from your tongue. His chuckle was a reassurance in the complete quietness of the flat, his low voice reminding you of better times.

The sweater hung loosely around you, dipping down your collar to expose your shoulder. It was warm, the cotton used to make it still soft after being stored away and the soothing scent of spice and pine deeply integrated into the fibres. The pants were stretched around your hips, the tight fabric thin and flexible under stress, hidden under the long shirt. The legs, however, swayed loosely around your limbs, too big for your calves, but tight enough to hug your thighs. He had certainly made sure to bring you clothes that would fit your frame. You hadn’t attempted to smell his pants, you thought it would’ve been too intrusive and disgusting to do so if only to smell a remnant of Miguel on his as you did on the sweater.

Miguel was waiting for you in the kitchen, his back turned to you as you ambled towards him. His shoulders loose and back relaxed in the presence of a stranger made you appreciate how good-natured he was in most universes you’d been to. He turned his head, gesturing you to sit on the chair facing him on the island as he returned to something he was making while you changed.

“I hope you don’t mind hot chocolate,” he started, voice light and hopeful as he turned to you, cup in each hand as he moved to stare at you. “I’m not one for tea.” He slid the warm mug into your hand, eyes watching your expression as he slowly sipped on the hot beverage.

His eyes squinted slightly when your lips curled upwards, a smile hidden by the steaming mug. You cupped the mug, feeling the warmth of the freshly brewed drink, the steam rising in soft curls and melting in the cooler atmosphere. Tentatively, you brought the rim to your lips, slowly tilting the cup. The powerful taste of chocolate hit you strongly, the sweet and dark liquid melting the tension in your muscles until you could curl over the table with an appreciative sigh.

“Thank you…” you knew his name, wanting to call him, but his reaction would be unwanted, the shock, fear and suspicion that would fill his beautiful, brown eyes. So you slurred your words, dragging out your voice until he could tell you his name himself.

“Miguel. Miguel O’Hara, ” he nodded, cocking his head upwards, pointing at you with his chin. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Hey every time I want to call you.” His lips broke into a cheeky smile, teasing you when he saw that you’d comfortably melted into the drink and his island chair. He wanted to ease the tense atmosphere from before into something much calmer, to help the accumulated tension in your shoulders to fall like the rain that clouded the streets of New York.

You let out a hoarse chuckle, your throat still fresh from crying, and told him your name, trying to stabilise your shaking tone. His cheeky smirk tugged at your heartstrings, you hadn’t seen Miguel laugh or smile this freely in months. You missed it. The casual banter you shared and the on-and-off insults you’d hurl at one another, all good-natured insults meant to rile him.

“Thank you, Miguel,” you nearly choked when you uttered his name, the wound still so fresh and bleeding it slip from your tongue easily. It brought up so many memories, both painful and joyful. Your eyes glazed over, tears threatening to fall once again, to paint your cheeks with agony that you - him, or perhaps both of you - had brought on yourself. “Thank you…”

Miguel hummed sympathetically, eyes staring down at his drink, deep in thought. Perhaps he was thinking of a way to invite you to share your problems, to tell him why you broke down on the street in stormy weather. Or maybe he was thinking of the fastest way to kick you out, to get rid of the mess you became. The silence, however, was reassuring, calming the nerves that followed the eerie calmness of Miguel’s den or the loud, hectic atmosphere of the Society. His warm, worrying gaze grounded you, the softness behind his concerned stare was heartwarmingly nostalgic.

“Difficult breakup?” His words seemed hesitant, unsure of his conclusion to the cause of your appearance. Unknowingly, he had struck gold, pinning down the right problem in your life with a few observations. Of course, he was observant and aware of his surroundings, why else was he so willing to bring you into his home?

“How’d ya know?”

His sigh was telling, the deep, concerned and tired breath was only used when he knew that you wouldn’t tell him what ailed you, like the groan of a disappointed, yet worried father.

“Because I know how it feels,” he says slowly, pensive over his words, picking them carefully to not damage you further than your ex had. He knew the pain of a harsh breakup, the pain and sorrow that followed, like a dark cloud that hovered over you whenever you were awake.

“Why?” You croaked.

“Why?” he parroted, frowning at your question.

“Why did you invite me in? I’m a- a stranger to you, you don’t even know me. What if I’d been acting to mug you or potentially kill and steal from you? What’d you do then, Miguel?”

“I know the risks, but you didn’t, didn’t you? And wouldn’t, you don’t look like the person to harm another.”

You scoffed at his words. Didn’t and wouldn’t didn’t mean you would not do it later after gaining his trust, to stab him in the back after he helped you and nursed you. The simple, naïve idea that you didn’t look like a violent person was mind-blowing, it was stupid. How could he know if you didn’t mean harm later on? Like how Miguel never meant to harm you - he loved you - and yet in the end, he had.

“That’s naïve,” you muttered, eyes closed as you drank the cooling beverage, the sugary drink trickling down your throat.

“I’m confident in my ability to read people.”

He did seem confident in his ability, the straight back and the strong gaze in his eyes showed; and, maybe because you knew from experience that Miguel was observant and careful, he hadn’t gotten where he was by simply trusting people and following the herd. He tested and made mistakes, he learned from them each time and found a way to use it to his advantage. The Miguel you saw in every universe was similar in some ways, their good nature, their cunningness, their bravery and their intelligence. All aspects known to characterize Miguel O’Hara in all universes he existed in.

You conceded to his will, head bowed and shoulders slack. You breathed shallowly, swallowing the lump in your throat:

“Yeah, what gave it away?”

You thought it would be the last of him you’d see in your life, you wished it wouldn’t, that you’d see him over and over, to feel what the Miguel from your universe had to give, but you knew it was wishful thinking, a wish thrown to the stars. Logically, he had no reason to call or text you after exchanging numbers days prior. He promised to call you, and he made you promise to call him if anything ever resurfaced, be it pain, anger, heartbreak or hate. You, instinctively, believed his word.

You hated yourself for falling so easily to another Miguel, how you bent to his words and the sweet promises he uttered that night. There was no sign that he would keep his word, that he would see you again after your breakdown, except for his words and your belief in him. Then it wasn’t misplaced, all the trust and belief you had, since he called you, asking to meet up at a cafe. Miguel had set up a place and time for you when you replied with a croak, still feeling down. He had whispered reassuring words to you, urging you to meet him - he explicitly told you he’d feel offended to be stood up - and spend some time outside. The air was fresh and cool for an autumnal month, it wasn’t too cold that you were forced to wear a thick jacket, but it wasn’t warm enough for you to go out in a simple shirt.

You were hesitant to take him up on his offer, knowing how easily you could rebound. You’d crash into Miguel’s open arms, searching for the love and affection he fed you like a lovesick puppy, but, then again, Earth-XXX’s Miguel was similar, yet different from his variant. It would be a lie if you told yourself you didn’t miss him, the soft smiles, the gentle touches and the affectionate words. You had spent so much time as his right-hand Spider that it felt odd not seeing him the following morning. It was a routine you’d formed: waking up in his bed, kissing him good morning, getting to work together and eating together. Everything you’d done in the past years was with Miguel from Earth-928 the routine, the rigidity, it was grounding, it was the only semblance of normalcy in the world you lived in.

Now, you had to face the possibility that you were too broken to see another Miguel, to hold a casual conversation and form coherent and normal sentences. The purposefully slow steps you took to the cafe picked after having a moment outside the glass front were telling in itself. You swallowed the little amount of saliva in your throat to soothe its dryness and walked through the doors of the quaint establishment. It was painted in calm, brown tones, rustic in design with a warmth that rivalled the comfort of your bed. It lifted a bit of the tension you had, shoulders slumping slightly as your eyes searched for a familiar mop of brown hair.

Laying against the brown sofa, he stared out of the wide window from his booth. The warm, morning lights caressed his cheeks, lighting up the sharp edges of his jaw and nose. He was sculpted in perfection, like the youthful beauty of Adonis, crafted with the meticulous and attention-catching hands of an artist that created what was thought to be a god’s beauty. You could spend your days watching him, catching every little detail of Miguel’s face under the changing lighting, but you were standing near the entrance and he was waiting for you. His words echoed in your mind: “Don’t forget about next week, I miss seeing you.”

His eyes flickered to you, blinking as he turned to you, flashing a smile. You returned the sentiment, a shaky smile lifting the corners of your lips. You sat across from him, eyes wandering the cafe to stare at anything but him, lest you wouldn’t be able to stop the rush of emotions that would light your face in a flush. He uttered your name, greeting you in a friendly manner. You nodded back, muttering his name, pushing down the wince whenever you said it.

“Chocolate.”

The still-warm cup stared at you, light steam wafting over the reflective liquid. It was full, unlike Miguel’s cup, and drank down to the middle of the container.

“Thank you.”

He probably wouldn’t let you repay him for the hot chocolate he bought you, the smile he gave you told you as much when your eyes flickered between his and your cup. The hot chocolate was a reminder of your night in his flat, where he lent you his shoulder to cry and his ears to listen. Embarrassment seemed to flash whenever you recalled the memory, how vulnerable you were to him, your walls broken down and your heart open. Though, Miguel didn’t seem to mind your fragility, giving you as much time as you needed.

“How are you? I wanted to give you a few days to think before meeting again, I thought you might’ve needed the time alone.”

You nodded lamely, fingers curling around the warm porcelain, back slumped into the booth to hide from his knowing eyes. He was right, you had needed the time alone to clean yourself up, scour through your memories and tend to whatever mess you made of yourself. You were thankful. The last few days had brought revelations, how - both of - you had ignored the signs of a rupture in the relationship and continued to push on, like crossing a crumbling bridge.

“‘M doing better. How- and how are you?”

He smiled at your attempt, you were trying on your own after a few - forced - encouraging words from Miguel. Maybe you’d learn to live with the pain, coexisting with the numbness that filled you until it dulled to a point where it would be barely acknowledged by you or anyone in your vicinity - where it wasn’t painted on your face with bright colours. Or the pursuit to forget it, pushing it into the farthest corner of your mind and heart, painting over the crack with glue. As long as you wouldn’t drown in your sorrows, ending up playing with dangerous substances to stay afloat while your mind sunk deeper into addiction and denial.

He wouldn’t let you get that far, Miguel understood you and he lived through it as you did. Although his was a more violent breakup - she had cheated on him, his explosive reaction was natural - than yours, he hadn’t relied on anything but self-meditation and a lot of thinking. Like a friend - you were one by his standards, he’d invited you to his flat, you’d seen his organized chaos and ranted about your life while he comforted you with his shoulder and a cup of hot chocolate - he would stay by your side, hoping his support would be enough to help you.

“Great so far.”

His grin - somehow - grew even larger, enthusiasm gleaming in his eyes.

Oftentimes, Miguel would be the one to call you, your phone ringing in the afternoon of the day prior with his soothing voice on the other end of the line. He spoke easily, finding the time to invite you out for the simplest reason, to talk, to make a drink, to have fun, and - your favourite by far - to see you. His initiative had you trying to double your efforts to heal, reaching outside of your boundaries and texting Miguel whenever you had a moment to yourself. You felt guilty that he was always the one to plan these outings, so you promised yourself that you’d become a better friend than you currently were. You even remembered his teasing tone when you called him for the first time:

”Aye, finally. I thought you’d never call me, chica. I felt neglected, thought you had forgotten about me for a second there.”

It started with the first coffee date, bickering about who would pay, pushing your card before the other while still seated at your table, frowning stubbornly and throwing promises about letting the other pay next time. Either way, Miguel rarely let you pay, coming atop as the winner of your little fight with his strength and height (you couldn’t exactly put all your force into your push, it could break bone and bruise the skin.).

Then it would be random meetings on the streets that would lead you to a random bench at the park, basking in the other’s presence, retelling your day and him nitpicking anything he could with a ridiculously criticising frown. He was playing, you knew he was. You did the same after you’d gotten more comfortable talking to him, it became easier to see him as a different - as his own - person. A few hits on the shoulder left and right, but it was mostly laughter at ridiculous expressions made to emphasize your disdain for a certain event.

The months that followed were a blur to you. Rather than going to a cafe or the park, you went to restaurants and crashed at one of your flats, yours if he wanted to play games and lounge about with food and drinks, and his if you wanted to watch movies (he had the best television you’d ever seen, such high definition and speed.) and tinker away at his inventions and theories. He was certainly happy that his new friend was another scholar in the field of genes and engineering (you were mostly into engineering than genes, but you knew a few things that you’d found interesting.). You could both gush - scientifically - about the possibility of gene splicing and lab-generated mutations in humans, like the mutant superheroes.

You’d taken some liberties and went drinking, meeting at the same bar biweekly to relax after a few hard days at work. It served to loosen your nerves until either of you felt comfortable to chat up a storm about the most random subject. It’d been about the odd dent on the rim of his glass; then it’d be about how the sky was grey this week, there weren’t any warm, yellow rays blaring down on you when you went out; or it’d be about the distasteful cut of a man’s moustache. Drinking loosened your tongues, some words were said and some sentiments were shared, but none were truly taken seriously knowing you were tipsy - nearing drunk - those nights.

Every time you saw Miguel, you felt like you were rediscovering a part of yourself as well as him, the thing that made him so distinct and loveable. Miguel was expressive and honest, he slowly and gently let you down from whatever high you were, the pillar you needed to stand again after falling. He was so much different. It used to pain you how much they looked alike, but character-wise, they were like the two sides of a coin. It made you appreciate the delicate intricacies that made the multiverse.

You won’t - can’t - deny that you’ve grown fond of this Miguel as you did with the other one, but you couldn’t let yourself love him. He didn’t deserve someone broken and hashed into many lives: the masks you wore, the things you did, the secrets you hid, and the things you could do. He didn’t deserve someone who could bring him to his death; dying simply because he was connected to Spider-Woman; beaten simply because he knew Spider-Woman; kidnapped simply because they deemed him useful as leverage. All things that could go wrong haunt you. Miguel was human, he wasn’t a Spider, he wasn’t a superhero, and he wasn’t a vigilante. He was Miguel O’Hara, the geneticist working at Alchemax, with a brilliant mind and a kind heart.

You cherished every part of him. That’s why you can’t let your heart lead, dedicate how you’d react to Miguel after the months you spent together. He was so close, yet so far; he was touchable, you could hold him, kiss him and hug him, but he was unattainable, you couldn’t tell him how much you loved him. You watched him with hidden love, showing your affection as platonic, a friend watching another. You had hardened yourself to your heart’s cries, for loving Miguel was a dangerous game-

“I- what?” you gawked at Miguel, wide eyes and mouth agape. You were shocked at the words that left his mouth, his soft, wet lips moving as he repeated the words.

“I love you.”

His cheeks were flushed, burning a soft red, it trailed to his ears and nape. His open collar - his jacket hung on the back of his chair and his shirt clung below his collar, a skin-tight shirt that hugged his sculpted chest sinfully, it hid little to the seeing eyes of the crowd and your drunk self. His sudden words had all but sobered you, shaking you into clear lucidity of his confession.

“You… love me?”

He blinked dumbly at you for a second, as if taking the time to absorb what he told you and what you repeated. Miguel was tipsy, not drunk. He smiled and nodded, a bashfully affectionate grin on his beautiful lips.

“Yes, is it so hard to believe, chica?”

He often called you chica, you thought it was a friendly term of endearment between friends (truthfully and regretfully, you knew little of Spanish, even with being in a committed relationship with an Irish-Mexican.). You just realised it was his pet name for you. All this time, he had given you his heart, and yet, you had denied him of yours. He was more playful and less burdened by life, it made him more teasing and smiling. The term chica somewhat made sense, a cuter and more playful way of calling someone you loved than the deep-meaning ones like mi cielo and mi vida, a play of words like a small secret between you. This secret hid behind names given between friends, a well-kept one, close to his chest but gifted to you.

It might’ve once been - started - as friends, but it grew and festered in his heart until he found the time to express himself, to tell you how he truly felt for you - how he grew to care for you. He deemed this moment fine, bordering tipsy and nearing drunk, he’d be open, brutally honest but still aware of the words that left him. He wasn’t a lightweight anyway.

You wanted to tell him you also loved him, but you couldn’t do it, mouth slightly open and eyes glazed with heartbreak, you simply stared at him in hesitancy. You opened your mouth once to reply and closed it, open and close, again and again until all you could do was stare at him. How were you supposed to answer him after the bomb he dropped?

”Yes! I love you too!”

”Oh, Miguel, I love you too.”

”I- I love you as well.”

There were so many ways to express your feelings to the man who confessed, but none seemed to convey the true emotions that lay in your heart. You wanted to tell him you learned to love again thanks to him, that the time spent with him had made you open your eyes to the beauty that you were blinded by the pain and you slowly grew to care for - love - him as much as you did with Spider-Man 2099. He had the same smile, the same mind, the same heart, but he was more innocent, less burdened by disaster and happier.

So you simply nodded. It made his smirk grow.

“Aye- would it be better if I called you ‘mi tesoro’ instead? It’s more straightforward, no?”

Even now, his words were light and playful, his tone affectionate as he leaned closer to you. You could see the mischievous glint in his warm, chocolate eyes (you thought that was why he liked serving you hot chocolate, it reminded you of his eyes.) and the curve of his lips as they moved to form words. You were transfixed by his beauty, mesmerised by the comforting hues and the sharpness of his cheeks, missing how close he was to you.

“Or maybe-”

Softness caressed your lips, a plush, warm feeling that made you flush. He was kissing you, those pretty lips on yours. Your breath stuttered and you froze, but it didn’t stop Miguel’s initiative, a hand cradled your nape, holding you in place as he pushed himself closer to you. He moved against you, tongue slipping from his mouth and tentatively laving over your bottom lip, asking for something.

He was so warm, so caring. You could just close your eyes and follow his lead - you did. He pushed harder, yet the kiss stayed soft and passionate, he lightly nipped your lip and soothed the stinging with his warm tongue, beckoning you to open your mouth for him. Your lips parted, opening up for Miguel to dive in, muscle meeting yours halfway and curling over yours. He still cradled your head, fingers running through your loose hair and tilting your head backwards, giving him more space to show you how much he loved you. Your arms, somehow, found themselves wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close to you as he was pushing himself against you.

His kiss was loving, his hold was careful and his touch heartwarming. You almost regretted having to pull away, but you had to breathe, your lungs starving for air after having been devoured by Miguel’s adoring kiss. The moment you opened your eyes (you didn’t know you had closed them while you kissed), his smile greeted you, a lovesick one bubbling with unending joy. You almost choked from how it fit so well on him.

“That’s- that’s one way…” you spoke between breaths, chest swelling with every erratic pant, matching his similarly worn-out breathing.

That was all he needed from you. Your kiss was enough for him to know you loved him the same, a patient and gentle love he was willing to give you. Your heart pulsed strongly, lips curving and eyes squinting, you pushed yourself closer to his heat, his all-encompassing warmth that wrapped around you when you wanted to feel safe and loved. Your world couldn’t be any brighter, like the vibrant colours of blooming flowers when Persephone was given to her mother, where the snow melted and colours washed over the lands once more, painting the blank white and dead grey in joyous tones. It glowed brightly and warmed you like the summers that followed the melting ice, the clear, blue skies of Olympus and as freeing as the soaring hawks and skipping elks.

Letting go was far harder than loving. To let the person who you let in leave felt emptying, it left a gaping hole in his heart. Where it was once calm, struck a raging storm of rejection and regret, crashing waves the size of Poseidon’s rage and violent storms the strength of Zeus’ retribution. It hurt watching you walk beside a variant of himself, a happier and lighter version of him without his mutations or duty. You were the Spider-Woman of your universe so there wouldn’t be a second one unless there was a catastrophic canon divergence.

He hadn’t followed you at first, respecting your wishes of being left alone. He had to give you that much, at least, after those months spent beside his ignorant ass. He hadn’t seen it until it was too late, lost under the weight of his duty and fears that he’d forgotten he had people who cared, who felt, who loved. It was too late, it was always too late with him. If he couldn’t fix his first mistake, who’s to say he could fix this? He couldn’t save his first daughter or his second’s universe because it was falling apart. He couldn’t save anyone because he hadn’t realised his mistake in interfering in canon events, and he lost you because he couldn’t stop his vitriol, his violent temperament that had pushed you away. He always took things for granted until they were lost to him.

Was it two or three weeks before he decided to check up on you? He didn’t know anymore, the weeks blurred until he finally amassed the courage to go against everyone’s words. Through the flat hologram of his orange screen, he watched you lament on your own, body curled into itself and shoulders shaking. Your sobs were heart-wrenching to watch while he had no means of contacting you; you would’ve reacted more strongly and aggressively if he’d contacted you after leaving.

So he watched.

You stared vacantly from your window and left only for the bare necessities or to act as Spider-Woman. Crime never slept so you couldn’t stop even in your time of need. You swung from building to building so gracefully that Miguel was hypnotised by your grace. He watched these moments as a reminder of the missions he took by your side, webbing and catching anomalies all across the multiverse with fearsome speed and accuracy. You both had made a fearsome team, but that time was over, it was a memory long forgotten.

So he watched.

Your flat was cold and empty, the space filled with spectres of memories, the cool rooms vacant of life that used to fill them with warmth and happiness. It was saddening from his perspective - the observer, the watcher and the reader of your story - of your time spent alone. He wanted to tell you that you weren’t alone, that he was watching you from afar, a silent protector that would only act if you were in imminent danger - as long as it wasn’t part of the canon.

So he watched-

Besides you was Miguel - not him, another one - and he looked much too comfortable by your side for his liking. His variant seemed much too close for a friend, moving from sitting before you to beside you, arm slung over your shoulders and leaning back and, sometimes, towards you at a breath’s distance. He turned green with envy, a vicious monster brewing inside his body with the threat of bursting out, clawing at his chest. The other was too close to you for his liking.

He watched as his variant bought you drinks - always, however long and loud you’d complained and fought, he never let you pay in the end - and paid for your dates. He abhorred it. How happy you looked with the other him. How calm and satisfied your smile was. How close his variant was to you. He wished he was at the other’s place, taking his rightful place beside you. He would kiss you, smother you in love and give you whatever you wanted, whether it be a hug, a kiss or his time, he would’ve given them to you. He wouldn’t dance around the edge of your affection and his love like he was doing, like a man unsure of his feelings and anxious to act on it.

He thought the other Miguel was a coward - though he knew he wasn’t. He wanted to blame his variant and find fault for anything he did, but they were still the same person. He was Miguel O’Hara as much as he was. He wanted, but couldn’t, especially after seeing how both loved you the same, having a similar type. They were so much alike that he could’ve replaced his variant, yet so vastly different in other manners that he would’ve stood out. His history, his trauma, his curse, the other had none of them. He was normal while he was Spider-Man, a stronger, more brutal version of Spider-Man.

Granted, he loved you with every fibre of his being, but he had never showered you with as much love and affection as the other, having his character muddled through long hours of work and long-lasting tragedy. You were another of his tragedies, where he found love again and lost it by his own making. He would have left too if the Society didn’t depend on him, leaning towards him for support and help in protecting the multiverse. It was something he couldn’t sacrifice for his whims.

So he kept watching and let his heart crack and envy fester.

He watched you grow even closer to him, shoulders and hands occasionally touching, making you jump and blush. He watched you move from simple coffee dates to full-blown restaurants and bar dates, drinking and eating at your leisure - something he could’ve never provided you. He watched you wobble around when you were drunk, your arm over his shoulder and his around your waist, supporting your drunk weight. He watched you kiss, the other pressing your bodies together and you reciprocating the loving embrace you had once given to him.

He felt like crying. He was crying, silent tears rolling down his sharp cheeks in slow, thundering waves of his heartbreak. He clung to the desk, claws unintentionally popping out and bending the metal under his fist. The sound ripped through the silent room like the image that ripped through his heart. He was alone in his grief, shoulders slumping and arms shaking with the intensity of his emotions. He had locked the door, barricading it with a busy, do not disturb sign, warning the others that he was occupied and wouldn’t be reached unless there was an emergency.

“Miguel…”

He’d forgotten Lyla was here - she was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, with your help he had given Lyla an upgrade in her system that gave her access to every Spider that had the watch. She had access to every file in the database and his secrets. Lyla was loyal to him as much as she was to you, respecting your words with a promise of her own to leave you alone. That, however, didn’t mean that she wasn’t privy to his pains, watching him while his eyes were stuck to your universe’s screen, giving him some comforting words that were meant to lift his spirit. It never worked but the intention was there.

He couldn’t look at her, still facing the hologram of you kissing. He felt the surge of too many emotions to be able to think clearly, his self-control tethering on a thin line of fragile web. If he turned, he would explode on Lyla, giving her the brunt of his suffering even though she didn’t deserve it, she felt and laughed as much as any other human. He remembered programming in emotion with you, laughing about how much she would be as teasing and annoying as you. Lyla was another gift to him by you, so it would hurt him more.

“Miguel-”

“Don’t- Do not say another word.”

For a man in tears and pain, his voice was curt and stoic, playing the leading figure he’d taken for so long. It betrayed his shaky figure, fingers crushing the metal loudly and shoulders jerking with ever-wrenching choked sob. His world was crumbling around him, rippling and cracking from the seams and folding into itself. The control of his state was failing miserably as he kept staring at your mirthful smile after the kiss. It tore him apart knowing he pushed you further away and into the arms of another. It hurt him deeply.

Through everything, he heard Lyla whisper a small sorry before she popped out of existence, her small holographic body vanishing along with her orange light. Gone was her familiar light, gone was the nostalgic memory of programming her, and along her, was the support of another person. He was truly alone in this moment, to fall on his knees and let himself drown under the weight of everything.

If your love was a tangible thing, he would’ve cradled it between his warm palms, holding it tightly to his chest to feel the soothing effects you had on him. Like a balm to burns, you cooled the searing pains that the world inflicted upon him, the warm blanket that covered him when he needed rest and the pillar that held him when he fell. He’d lost something he couldn’t gain a second time, clutching his head in his misery, drowning and howling.

It felt surreal until it wasn’t until it all sunk in. He truly couldn’t grasp the utter loss and betrayal he felt. The realisation that he truly lost you to none other than himself. The irony of it all slashed deeper, how he drove you closer to another him by his own doing, making you love a Miguel with more gentleness, more kindness and time than him, Miguel O’Hara, the Spider-Man from Nueva York, Earth-928. Everything he had was lost in time, his spiralling thoughts of loss and misery clouded his vision, bringing tears forward in bigger waves.

Was he doomed to lose everything he cared about? Was he bound to love and lose? Why couldn’t he have a happy ending like everyone else? Was it because he was different? Perhaps it was, there were other O’Hara Spider-Man, but none were mutated like him, a product of self-infliction and sabotage - none had their DNA spliced and mixed with a spider’s. He was simply too different from the others, they were lean but still had a strong musculature, muscles tightened to create more strength and defence; none were big and broad as he was, with rough edges and mean streaks. They were nice and happy, faced losses of their own, but always came out on top (there were some minor - sometimes major - variants of Spider-Man here and there, but they all had some similarities in their stories of becoming.). He saw the devastation and grasped onto the thinnest silver lining he could find, holding onto it to stay afloat while others thrived where they were.

Maybe it was truly because of him. He was realistic - near cynic - he couldn’t see things optimistically, life had made him that way. The silver lining he saw in things was small, nearly extinguished by his near-pessimistic way of life. Did that have an impact as well? It most likely did, at least partly. Fate had given him a bad hand in things, he couldn’t be completely blamed for how things turned - or so he thought, hoped. A man wasn’t only the result of what he’d done, but also of what he was given. When push comes to shove, Miguel acted in a way he thought meant well for him and the others even if it didn’t seem like the right decision at first. He rarely doubted his actions while he did them, only after, could he let himself face the consequences of what he’d done. Miguel simply didn’t have the pleasure of waiting. He needed to act when it was called.

If he had waited, if he had been patient and sought out others for support, if he had spent time thinking before acting, would he still have his little girl beside him? Would he still have you in his arms? If he had shown you more affection, would you have still loved him?

Did you still love him?

Miguel didn’t know what he was doing. Standing before your apartment door in civilian clothing and a bouquet of twelve, beautiful white tulips - the meaning not lost to him. It was an attempt at apologizing for his mistakes, a desperate one led by heartache. He brushed his hair back, trying to look as kept as he could in his situation: dark bags and sickly skin, tense muscles and sore back. This was a daring move from him, it would end up catastrophic if the Miguel from your universe saw him at your front door; but he checked, making sure his variant was elsewhere before opening a portal to your place.

He hadn’t moved in a while, listening to you move around your flat, the sound of your soft steps shuffling from behind the door, a wall between you and him, reminding him that he wouldn’t be able to cross it unless you welcomed him. He held the bouquet in one hand and knocked with the other, his knuckles hitting the wood softly and hesitantly. There was a pause between every knock, drawn by his nerves and the anxiety that gripped him.

You moved and closed in on the sound at the door. He saw your shadow dance under the small gap on the floor and pause. You knew. You knew it was him even without peeking through the peephole, your spider-sense aiding you in recognizing the unknown. Although your hand rested reluctantly at the knob - perhaps still too raw from your break as he was - you opened the door for him, figure small and apprehensive.

“Miguel,” you muttered his name, greeting him with a slow nod. You stepped back and opened the door wider for him, he took it as a good sign that you let him in rather than shut the door in his face.

He nodded back, saying your name. He took a step forward, foot breaking the barrier to your flat. The second one ensured he was fully invited, both feet strongly rooted on your side of the door. He wanted to make himself smaller, to appease you, but he knew you wouldn’t have liked that. He squirmed under your stare, a mix of curiosity and concern.

He nearly sighed audibly when you gestured at him to sit and he moved to the sofa he remembered sleeping on with you, cuddling under a warm blanket while you watched a movie. He knew your home by heart like you knew his, the memory washed over him with melancholy. You sat on the armchair to his left, your back to the kitchen. He swallowed thickly and handed you the bouquet, freshly cut tulips glistening with pearly drops under your lights.

Your shoulders shook as you leaned in to take the bouquet, jolting back when your fingers grazed him. Feeling your skin felt invigorating, it breathed back life into him, even slightly. You thanked him with a slow nod, seemingly unsure of what to make of it. Was it a gift? Was it an apology? Was it a farewell sign? He figured your mind was running in circles trying to understand the meaning of the pretty bouquet he handed you. You were always an overthinker, but your mind worked brutally well. That’s something he always appreciated about you.

“I-” Miguel started, seemingly stopped by something that he couldn’t get out of his throat. Maybe a ball of dread or needles of anxiety, but it held him from giving you the words he spent nights thinking over, to give you the message he built from the deepest crevice of his heart. “I’m sorry, (Name).”

You stared at him, understanding that he needed a moment of silence to truly convey his feelings. You hadn’t uttered a word since he first started, expression neutral, not betraying whatever brewing storm you locked inside of you. He was grateful, truly.

“I know- I know it doesn’t mean much now, but I’m really, really sorry, mi vida.”

He sensed you tense, the muscles of your back contracting and rippling under your shirt. Every unseen fibre moving was bare to him, he could see and feel better than most, if not, everyone else.

“I acted out of anger and lack of sleep, but that doesn’t mean you deserved that- never. I just, my mutation makes me more animalistic, more… aggressive than the other, and I hurt you. You didn’t deserve any of that and I can’t always blame it on my mutations. I should’ve been able to control myself. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you in those ways.”

He lowered his gaze to his hands, the calloused pads of his fingers rubbing his palm, trying to coax himself into relaxation. Although your breathing softened, a calm breeze in an atmosphere thick with tension, he didn’t dare look up and see the face you were making.

“I was a bad boyfriend and a horrible friend. I’m- I’m not asking you to forgive me, I don’t want you to forgive me, but- I just needed to tell you how much I regret hurting you. I want to apologise, I don’t know what else to do, I don’t know how to fix this.” He breathed deeply, collecting every ounce of confidence and honesty to brave your reaction. “I’m sorry, mi cielo.”

He shuddered, body rippling with his pained breath. He hadn’t realised how painful it would be to face you with his fears and confession, with the threat of abandonment and rejection fresh in his mind. He was a man of pride and strength, rarely facing anything with trepidation and hesitance.

“I’m really sorry, mi cielo. I’m so, so sorry.”

He sat in silence, letting it hang over him like the blade of a guillotine, silent and brunt. Perceiving the flash of the sharp blade before it fell on his neck, sentencing him to a quick downfall with a long, lasting agony that would sting his neck as long as it would hurt his heart. The French used it for executions, the thing that spelled people’s end. At its height, it was used as an apparatus to behead traitors or people who were deemed dangerous to the people of the new republic. Down the blame went and off the head popped, like it would happen to Miguel if he wasn’t prepared for it. He truly didn’t know whether he had prepared for his rejection, for the death of his heart, to watch the flickering sparks of his flame wither out.

“I’m sorry too, Miguel-”

The rope strained, knots twisting and rippling in the tightness of the pull. It shook, whipping in the air as it straightened completely, held closely by the hand of the executioner. The wind blew but it was sturdy, withstanding the violent gales that slammed against the body of it.

“-it means a lot that you came here to apologise- ”

The crowd was filled with silence, the emptiness of the area a mock of a ghost town. Abandoned to be sentenced to death without anyone to witness. They deemed him not fit for their acknowledgment before his death, before the sparks of his life extinguished. His fate wasn’t worth their time, unlike the poorest criminals who stole for money, unlike the richest pigs who fed from the poor with their silver spoons and golden crowns, unlike the cruellest killers who gutted and left men, women and children to bleed out, and unlike the guiltless innocents cursed for something they hadn’t committed.

“-but, I can’t.”

The rope was let loose, its tail flying and whipping in the air as the blade descended with its weight. The wood chafed against its support beams, yet it flew gracefully and rapidly, singing the doom of its prisoner. The blade gleamed under the moon’s bright light, the silver whispers of peace and sleep deaf to his ears.

“I can’t love you anymore.”

It cracked down on him, his life flashing before him as it cut into him. Severing his control over his body, putting out the dying embers of hope. He clung to desperation in his last moments, wishing to relive the moments of happiness, bright oblivion and cherished love.

He wished that he could’ve seen your shadowed figure hidden in the darkness, tears lining your cheeks as you watched him take his last breath. The only person who came to see him leave, the one who he would’ve burned the world for. In the end, after everything he’d done, you still gave him a small moment of your time to witness his fall, you deemed him worthy of such an act. You offered him your kindness.

My extensive tag list of extremely patient people pt1.:

@iseizeyourmom @raynerainyday @etherealton @sciencethot @coffee-obsessed-freak @thesecretwriter @beepboopcowboy@bontensh0e @aikoiya @allysunny @fandoms-run-my-life @brittney69 @aranachan @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @konniebon @starlightaura @redwolfxx @aniya7 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @bvbdudette @wwwelilovesyou @wwwellacom @akiras-key @bobafettbutifhewasgay @opiplover @rinieloliver @uniquecroissant @yas-v @xrusitax @blkmystery @darherwings @ariparri @notivie @vr00m-vr00m @battinsonwhore05 @irishbl0ss0mz @mivanda @saint-chlorine @livelaughluvmen @battinsonwhore05 @notivie @lililouvre @giasjourneyblog @ykyouluvme @skullywullypully

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4linos · 6 months ago

Text

when love shows up late.

seo changbin x gn!reader

synopsis: you feel neglected as the night goes by as you wait for changbin. his surprise appearance provides comfort as he apologizes sincerely and admits he misunderstood your initial plans.

wc: 928

[part 2/8 holiday series 🎄]

The snow was falling softly outside, casting a sparkling white sheen on the streets, and the aroma of pine from the Christmas tree filled your living room. You had spent hours planning for tonight, your first Christmas Eve with Changbin. The table was set with candles, the lights on the tree twinkled, and you'd even played his favorite Christmas music. But as the hours passed, your excitement faded into confusion, and then sadness. You made plans to spend Christmas Eve together.

Or you thought you did.

It was late, the food had gone cold, and your phone stayed silent. There were no calls, no messages, and absolutely no sign of him.

You tried to argue with yourself. Maybe he got caught with his family or work. Maybe something urgent came up. But the thought that he had just forgotten about you gnawed at your heart. It wasn't like him to forget, but the stillness seemed to be an explanation in itself. Finally, unable to handle the agony in your chest any longer, you sent him a hesitant text:

Hey..I thought we were spending Christmas Eve together? I hope everything’s okay.

The message went unanswered. You stared at your phone for what seemed like hours, a knot rising in your throat as tears threatened to spill out. All you wanted was to spend this special night with him, but now you felt like the only one who cared. By the time the clock struck ten, your hopes were almost completely vanished. You turned off the lights on the tree, blew out the candles, and cuddled up on the couch, clutching a blanket over you to keep the chill of loneliness out.

Then, just as you were about to close your eyes and give in to the exhaustion of the night, there was a knock at the door.

You sat up, your heart leaping in your chest despite yourself.

It couldn’t be him… could it?

Wiping at your face quickly, you shuffled to the door, opening it with shaky hands.

There he was, Changbin, standing in the softly falling snow, his breath visible in the cold air. He looked nervous, almost sheepish, but his eyes softened the moment they met yours. In one hand, he held a bag filled with your favorite snacks, and in the other, a small wrapped gift.

“I thought we were meeting here later…” he said, his voice quiet and filled with regret. “I’m so sorry if I made you feel forgotten. I swear, I didn’t mean to mess this up.”

Your chest tightened, a mix of relief and lingering hurt washing over you. “You didn’t call, Changbin. I thought… I thought you forgot about me.”

His eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly. "No. "Never," he murmured, moving closer. "I thought you'd be with your family first, and we'd meet here later. I had everything ready, but when I saw your texts, I realized I screwed up." He held the bag up in his hand. "I even got all your favorite snacks to surprise you, but I didn't realize you were waiting for me this whole time." You stared at him, torn between wanting to stay angry and feeling warm inside from his obvious sincerity. His gaze was earnest, full of apology, and his usual confident demeanor had been replaced with a vulnerability that made it impossible to stay upset.

“I was waiting,” you said softly, tears threatening again. “I wanted tonight to be special, and when you didn’t show up, I thought… maybe it wasn’t as important to you.”

Changbin's face fell, and he stepped closer, holding you in his strong arms. The warmth of his embrace broke the last of your resolve, and you melted against him, letting the tears to flow freely. "It is important to me," he said softly into your hair, his voice full of emotion. "You are important to me." I'm really sorry for making you feel this way. I never want you to think you don't matter to me.”

You clung to to him, the strain in your chest melting away as his words wrapped around your heart like a blanket. "I just..." You muttered, "I felt so alone."

“I know,” he said, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “I promise, I’ll do better. Next time, let’s double-check the plans, okay? I don’t want to spend another second without you.”

You nodded, a small smile forming through your tears. "Okay." He leaned down and gently kissed your forehead. "Merry Christmas," he whispered softly, holding out a present in his hand. "I know I messed up, but I hope this makes up for it a little."

You opened the gift to reveal a beautiful necklace with a little star charm. "I saw this and thought of you," he explained. "You are my star, you know. Even when I make mistakes, you are always there to guide me back.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you slipped the necklace on, feeling its weight settle against your chest like a symbol of his love. “Thank you,” you said, your voice steady now. “And Merry Christmas, Changbin.”

He smiled and pulled you back into his arms. "Let's make the rest of tonight perfect," he murmured, his voice warm and determined.

And as you sat together on the couch, sharing snacks and laughter under the glow of the Christmas lights, you realized that sometimes, love wasn’t about getting everything right the first time. It was about learning, growing, and never letting each other feel alone, especially on Christmas.

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

[taglist: @lixies-favorite-cookie..]

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nina-ya · 2 years ago

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Patching up Zoros Wounds

A/N I’ve decided to turn this into a series cause why not. I’m working on a Law one which should be up tonight, and I’ll take a jab at some other One Piece characters too!

Zoro Law Sanji Shanks Ace Luffy Sabo Doflamingo

Pairing: Zoro x reader CW: Blood, descriptions of wounds, nothing heavy. WC: 928

You and Zoro had been separated from the strawhats a while ago. You could blame Zoros shitty sense of direction or your own foolish decision to follow him, but either way you two are separated, lost and injured. The fight is only fragments in your memory at this point and all you can recall is encountering a sketchy group of people, the clashing of swords, the deafening gunfire, and the rest is hazy, but now you are alone with Zoro. You two found yourselves slipping into an empty building; Zoro is sitting on a counter and you are in front of him, examining his wounds. Your eyes squint and your brows furrow as you look at a particularly deep laceration on his chest. “Hmmm… yeah that looks bad. Chopper is going to kill you when he sees this.” You mutter in deep thought. He rolls his eyes at you and lets out an exasperated grumble in response. “You know I'm fine, right? I've suffered through much worse and you know it. This is just a small scratch compared to all of that.”

You quickly retort. “A small scratch? Zoro, I know you are prideful and are some sort of unbreakable monster, but this?” you gesture towards the wound “this is deep, its bleeding, its oozing some weird yellow shit. Let me help you.” “I told you it's fine, it doesn't even hurt,” he insisted, attempting to keep up his facade. You lean forward and whack the cut and watch as he shouts in pain. “Oi! Fuck! What was that for?!” You stare at him with a raised eyebrow and a triumphant look on your face waiting for him to admit defeat. His chest heaves as he recovers from that sudden smack and he grumbles “okay fine maybe it hurts…” A smile graces your lips when he concedes. “See? I knew something was up, you stubborn marimo. Now let me take a look,” you lean in and lightly graze your thumb over the cut. You look up at him with a worried expression when he sharply breathes in. “Hey I know it hurts but I just need to wrap it up so you don’t bleed out before we make it back to Chopper, okay? You’ve said it before, you’ve suffered through much worse, so just hold on for a moment, okay?” You say in a soothing voice. He nods at you and lets you continue. You glance around the room, not finding anything suitable to wrap around his wound, so you end up taking off your shirt and ripping it up into makeshift bandages.. His face immediately flushes crimson at the sight and he stammers, “Uh w-what are you doing? There's no need for that.” You respond with a hint of amusement, “What does it look like I'm doing?” you lean in and wrap the torn shirt tightly around his cut. His eyes dart around the room, refusing to even look in your direction as you work on his cut. You work in silence, tending to the wound with delicate touches and focus. Zoro has gotten over the initial embarrassment, but the red hue on his cheek still seems to give away how he feels about the predicament. He watches as you wrap the wound up with care. Much more care than he is used to, and he is enjoying every second of it, finding solace in your touch through the pain. When you finish you look up at him with a smile. “There we go, all done! How does it feel?” His gaze lingers on you longer than it should and you catch his eyes, the intensity of those steel gray eyes unmistakable. “What’s got you all captivated, swordsman? Admiring my makeshift first aid skills?” You tease, trying to break the tension and ease the awkwardness hanging in the air. He grumbles as he averts your gaze once more. “Just surprised is all. Didn’t expect you to be so… gentle.” You can’t help but laugh at his response. “Well next time I'll make sure to make it hurt.” you see him open his mouth to retort and you quickly speak up, “Kidding! I’m kidding. Contrary to popular belief I don’t enjoy hurting you, Roronoa. Now, get up, we need to find the others and get you to chopper so he can properly patch you up.” He nods and stands up, wincing slightly as he does so. He starts to walk out the building before he remembers your shirtless state. He stares at you for a moment, contemplating, before he takes off his own shirt and hands it to you. “Here. Sorry about the blood on it, but a bloody shirt sure as hell beats no shirt at all.” You take the shirt with a small smile and toss it on. You then start to lead your way out the empty building and through the chaotic streets. Despite his tough exterior and his pride, he let you help him, and allowing you to see him in a vulnerable state has brought you close to him. You take a hold of his hand and start to lead him back to the Sunny. He looks at you surprised when you grab his hand, but you seem to already have a response prepared. “Hey, you didn’t think I would let us get lost again did you? I am just holding your hand so you don’t go wandering off. Now come on, let's go.” And with that, you two walk hand and hand, making your way back to the rest of the strawhats.

#one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece fluff

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luizd3ad · 1 year ago

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When in Doubt, Blame Damian | Jason x Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN! Reader

WC: 928

CW: Swearing, over thinking. It’s mostly kinda fluffy. No use of Y/N.

Author's Note: I got this idea while giving my dog a bath sooo here you go idk lol hope you like it🖤

Summary: You get a dog!! … but you didn’t tell Jason.

Not my picture

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You blamed Damian.

You normally blame Damian for a lot. More than you're willing to admit, sometimes for stuff he wasn't even involved in.

But this time you think it's actually his fault.

How could you not blame him? If he hadn't asked for a ride to the pet store. If he didn't insist that Titus absolutely needed a new friend. If he never put that little puppy in your arms basically forcing you to fall in love with the little baby that was giving you kisses, then you wouldn't be here right now.

You wouldn't be in yours and your boyfriend's apartment trying to figure out how to tell said boyfriend that you guys now had a dog.

Would Jason be mad? Honestly? You didn't know. The topic of getting a dog or a cat has came up a few times.

He would usually say things like ‘Maybe’ or ‘Now's just probably not a good time’ it was never a definite yes or no.

So maybe it wouldn't be that bad, you thought to yourself trying to give yourself some confidence.

I mean it was your apartment too. You contributed. And it would feel nice to have something to keep you company while Jason was on patrol or had to go somewhere for a while.

You'd hyped yourself up at this point you had some good arguments lined up for why it was a good idea.

You felt confident about your choice, especially when you looked down at the little puppy sleeping peacefully in his bed that was in your shared bedroom. You got this, you told yourself and you really believed that. You genuinely did.

That was until you heard the front door unlock.

You rush out the room, closing the door softly trying not to wake up the puppy.

You walked into the living room to greet Jason who was out all morning and most of the afternoon training with Dick, Cass and Duke.

“Hey Jay.” You say giving him a soft kiss.

“Hi my love. How was your day?”

Jason says, giving you a tight hug, holding you for a moment.

“Umm it was you know. It was fine. Hung out with Dames. Nothing crazy you know? How about you?”

You rambled pulling away from Jason trying not to sound suspicious while walking to the couch in the living room.

Jason gives you a questioning look but ends up just dropping it and following you to the couch.

“It was fine. Just the normal shit. I missed you though.”

Jay pulls you into him while giving you a kiss on your head. You feel kinda guilty at this point.

You don't like keeping things from Jason. He has a lot of trust issues so it was important that you guys had a lot of honesty and communication in your relationship.

You pull away from Jason and look at him, giving him a slightly guilty look.

“Jay, I have something to tell you. Don't be mad.”

“Did something happen when you were out with the Demon Spawn? Did he do something? What did he say? I'm gonna kick that little brats ass.”

Jason runs his hand through his hair already mad at Damian for whatever Jason thinks he did.

“Jay calm down Dames didn't technically do anything. I did something, and before you get mad-”

You were interrupted when you heard a puppy bark and a slight clawing sound at the bedroom door and judging by Jasons face he also heard it.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

You give a little chuckle, now trying to play it off. Hoping that this isn't how Jason finds out but knowing that it is.

“Babe Is there a dog here?”

“Um technically..? Yes?”

Jason sighs and gets up to the bedroom and opens the door letting the dog run up to you as he tries to climb up on you. You pick him up, putting him on your lap while he starts playing with your hand.

“Babe, who’s dog is that?”

“Umm… Ours?”

“When did we get a dog?”

Jason says wide eyed and raises his eyebrows at you.

“It's all Damian's fault! He told me how lonely Titus gets sometimes and I felt bad and just look at how cute he is!”

You try to explain picking the dog up so Jason can look at him.

“Don't be mad jay..”

You say putting the puppy on the floor so he can run around a little all while you look extremely guilty.

“Mad? Why would I be mad? Wait baby, is this what you were trying to tell me?”

Jason says sitting next to you on the couch while looking at you concerned.

“Yes… I felt bad making a choice like that without you and I know how you don't like it when people hide stuff from you and I just don't want to make you mad.”

“Baby, I'm not mad. I'm not thrilled that you got a dog without me, especially because it was with the Demon Spawn. But I'm not mad.”

Jason says pulling you into him kissing the top of your head.

“You're not mad? Really?”

“I can't be mad at you baby. You mean everything to me.”

Jason says while the puppy runs up to you guys laying down at your feet.

“I'm still sorry Jay.”

“I know you are, baby. It's okay, promise. Now what's this little guy's name?”

Jason says picking up the puppy and looking at his face while you smile at them.

Maybe you shouldn't blame Damian… this time.

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theothernads · 5 months ago

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˖ . ݁𝜗 𝜚. ❛❛ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ¹⁰: 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥??🧍🏻‍♀️ ❞

❛❛𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬❞

☰ SYNOPSIS: ₊˚⊹♡ :

With the third magical academic year starting, you and Jungwon plan to have a normal school year and complete many goals. Except, you have to earn Enchantix with your frequent burn-outs, and Jungwon wants to become a full-fledged warrior and push past his anxiety. With their own goals in mind, they feel like 2 idiots that keep meeting by chance. However, when mysterious events threaten the magical kingdoms and schools, the specialists and fairies have to figure out the culprit and save the magical universe. But fate has other plans for their adventures and for your ‘coincidental’ meeting with Jungwon.

☰ 𝖸𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ ➤ft. NewJeans, Enha, TXT, BTS, esp, Jungkook, Itzy, Le Sserafim

╰┈➤𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 (comment or give an ask)

Wc: 928

<< M.LIST >>

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᥫ᭡.━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

THE WEEKEND MEANT GOING HOME TO LINPHEA FOR AT LEAST A WHOLE 48 HOURS. It was a rule your mother made because of how long the semesters were and because of wanting to close the emotional distance that always wedged itself in your relationship with her.

Honestly, you didn't see the point of going back every week or fortnight to sit at home and do more studying there. Probably more reading than you do at Alfea. You realised how your home clouded your brain with even more stress than when you were at school.

That was why you were sauntering into the courtyard of Red Fountain, avoiding the gazes of some of the male students. Walking alone always sent your confidence on a tightrope.

Jungkook said that he would be out in the open yard in 5 minutes. He had been training and wanted to take a shower rather than be sweaty. That, you agreed with.

The scenery was as peaceful as always: the white clouds whirling as different shapes, letting in patches of the blue sky above; the grass was trimmed and cut where many of the boys were hanging out or skilfully training.

One person in particular you saw was Jungwon. Stopping momentarily, your eyes were drawn to the hefty, blue sword, the blade sheer as if it was made of glass.

He held it with both hands, the weapon lingering just above the ground as he walked forward a few steps to reveal another figure.

He also had a sword of the same kind, except it was purple, and he was taller with two pretty moles marking his face.

Both were stoic and serious, circling each other in stances made of stone. Not wanting to interrupt them, your gaze followed... Sunghoon. That was his name, wasn't it?

He rolled his neck before swinging the sword behind, bringing it up and striking it at Jungwon. With a swift slide, Jungwon avoided the sword as it hit the ground and propelled his own blade at Sunghoon's left.

Gladly, just in time, Sunghoon struck his own upwards and defended himself, directing both swords down when he manoeuvred his blade.

Just from watching them, your breath felt short and clipped. Thank Magix for possessing magic. Even then, the sport of swordsmanship still intrigued you immensely, wanting to discover every crevice there was to master it.

Maybe one day.

Seeing Jungwon reminded you of the dragon incident when he nearly fell to his possible death. You couldn't imagine dealing with that and still having to repress any cracks of anxiety from showing because he probably still had classes with the same creatures.

The rational part in you was screaming to ask if he was okay. But, there was another scream, louder and strident, that demanded you to save any embarrassment. What if they found you odd for asking? And you're here alone.

Subdueing the urge to be friendly, you stayed in one spot, out of sight, and sat on a bench.

Jungwon thought he saw a familiar blob of hair, but it was only in his peripheral vision. Too focused on Sunghoon, he ignored, trying to strike his sword again.

Another defence. Sunghoon twisted about, sidestepping easily until Jungwon was able to spot you on the bench.

His heart did a thing, one of recognition, before Sunghoon was lunging at him again with more force, taking his gaze away.

Bringing his sword before him horizontally, the clang of the swords echoed in his ears as Sunghoon brought his own on top, teeth grit.

Jungwon forced a step forward, causing Sunghoon to back up and retreat for only a few seconds.

One more glance, he told himself. Jungwon's gaze flickered, distracted by the idea of seeing the little flame that was you.

Except, when he did, he didn't find your eyes. It was a pair of masculine and sharp eyes, and he was taller. Jungkook.

And he was glaring at him, and Jungwon's concentration faltered.

The next thing he knew, the grip on his sword diminished as it thudded against the soft grass, and Sunghoon crouched, swiping his leg at Jungwon's ankle to send him right on his back.

A yelp escaped him, gravity shifting. Jungwon winced as pain tingled at his spine, now sprawled on the floor. He could barely breathe as he peeled his eyes open and saw a curious Sunghoon leaning on his sword.

"Ouch." Sunghoon tilted his head a little after saying it. Another defeated sigh left Jungwon as he lifted his head.

"You win." Jungwon took Sunghoon's hand to return to his feet.

"I know," Sunghoon said with a small shrug, beginning to take off his gloves. Jungwon did the same, and his eyes felt the pull to gaze over at you.

You glared at Jungkook as he started smirking with mischief. Punching his arm, Jungkook grumbled.

"Don't laugh at him!" You snapped at him. Jungkook was already known as some golden ace warrior, but it only meant that him laughing at someone could totally crumble anyone's confidence.

"Why not? It's basic knowledge to never take your eyes off your enemy," Jungkook simply remarked as he adjusted his bag. He was hopeless.

"You're a bully." You huffed, and Jungkook immediately scoffed, nudging your shoulder.

"You swear at me more than I do at my roommates," he said with a pointed look. Not being able to deny it, you scowled at him and turned away.

Jungkook just chuckled and looked over his shoulder, sending one last glower at Jungwon, who had briefly stared again and glanced away.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᥫ᭡.━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

<< M.LIST >>

[NOTES]: I'm on fire with these updates omg. I'm so happy lmao 😭 guys. I'm writing an ACTUAL book. The process is stressful <3 REBLOGS, COMMENTS + LIKES are appreciated

━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊[TAGLIST]: @dreamiestay @melancholy-z @n1k1mura @wensurr @jiiyen @jwonistic @lo-la17 @sol3chu @firstclassjaylee @luumiinaa @xwonz @vixialuvs

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maneskinwh0re · 1 year ago

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injection stable ~ maria o'hara x fem reader

one shot, nsfw, 18+

cw: dom!maria, fem!miguel, maria o’hara x reader, vampire!maria, mention of drug usage, biting, little blood

wc: 1.4k not full smut, just a spicy lead up bc i like edging you freaks.

inspo from a wattpad story i read of miguel x peter b parker

"haunted" by beyoncé while you read >:)

cred to og artists - i got these pics from pinterests, not my own !

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location: nueva york, earth-928

it had been almost two weeks since maria stopped taking rapture. every day her relapse had been worse than the last. rapture was a drug maria had taken involuntarily to limit the more dangerous traits of her spider-like behaviors and powers, and she had been addicted to it ever since. she has tried stopping many times, but her relapses became so destructive and severe that she just couldn’t survive without it. you had to pick the lesser of two evils and just remove it from her entirely.

she needed help and extra care during this time, which is the reason you, jessica drew, and peter parker have deemed it necessary to check on her multiple times a day as recruits at headquarters.

“maria?” your voice echoes as you enter her dark office-like room.

no reply.

you sigh before swinging up to her pedestal, seeing her standing over her desk, her face focused on a blinking notification on the holographic screens. her gloved hands were tense on either side of the main keyboard.

“maria?” you repeat softly, taking a cautious step forward and crossing your arms. “what are you doing, spider?”

the nickname you have for her slips out in hopes that it lightens the tension in the air.

it doesn’t. you run a hand through your hair and sigh. “spider?”

her head snaps to the side quickly, allowing you to see her side profile. it’s difficult to tell in the dim lighting, but her wide eyes almost seem bloodshot. you study the sight of her. her holographic red and blue spider suit is snagged and glitchy while her dark hair is tangled yet loosely curled. the bridge of her nose is scrunched and her teeth are barred – that’s when you notice something you've never seen before, it’s almost like she has… fangs?

'hell. no way,' you think to yourself. 'again–it's probably just the lighting. she’s a spiderwoman, not a vampire.'

“maria, do you wanna try going to bed? i could get you something to eat,” you offer, still cautious of her mannerisms. her breathing seems ragged yet slow, but you can tell she needs something in her system. at least, something other than the empanadas from the cafeteria. “hm? how does that sound?”

she only stares at you with that narrow look in her eye that is honestly unnerving, but it drives something inside you crazy. 'it’s only maria,' you tell yourself, 'nothing to be scared of.'

“go home, y/n” she snaps, her voice laced with that smooth, spanish accent. you can see her back muscles tensing through her spider suit as she breathes.

you need more than a few words of attitude to check off if she’s going to be okay. not that you care, it’s more for protocol. no one besides you, jessica, and peter know that maria is off her rapture. it was a 2/3rds vote that one else in the spider society should know that their boss is secretly going through major withdrawal. you thought it would be better for her to take some time off and get some rest, or at least tell the others so her workload can be lightened or something.

again. not that you care.

“spider, i can’t leave without a proper check in. you know this,” you retort with a huff. you don’t understand why this is so easy for peter and jessica. every time you're alone with maria, which isn’t too often, it’s like talking to a damn brick wall. the possibility crosses your mind that she could still hold a grudge towards you for being a so-called 'anomaly' or whatever. that's how you met about four months ago. she's been cold to you ever since.

“so?” you eventually ask. “are you gonna make this easy for me?”

“no.” her tone is growing more agitated, and her brown eyes are still on you as her breaths quicken.

“and why not?” you raise a brow, starting to grow annoyed.

“because you haven’t made this easy for me,” she grits out, her hands balling into fists against the surface of her desk.

'cool. so she has officially lost it,' you think to yourself.

you notice her shift an object in one of her shaky hands until you recognize it to be a half-used rapture needle locked in her tight grip.

'god, damnit.'

“alright, come on,” you sigh, walking towards her.

“y/n,” maria warns. you sense tension in the air rising, but decide to push your luck.

“look, o'hara. i’m no therapist, and i can’t promise i’ll pay attention either, but it could help to just talk about it.” you stretch a hand out to touch her shoulder. “for all i know, your powers or abilities could-”

she turns abruptly and grabs the fabric of your f/c spider suit, letting the needle fall to the floor. the sound of crashing glass rings in your ears. green fluid oozes onto the floor by your feet, and all of a sudden your heightened spider senses are alarming in emergency-like flashes. your mind is racing as your breaths pick up speed in a panic.

you look back up to her towering figure that held your body close. you quickly lift your hands up in a surrendering motion, showing her you mean no harm.

“what are you– i don’t wanna figh–”

your defenses are cut off by the motion of her teeth sinking into your neck. you tense at the feeling as she inhales deeply against your skin.

it was not the lighting earlier. she definitely has fangs.

you feel a hot liquid, of what you can assume is your own blood, dripping down the nape of your neck, and you freeze as she drinks it in. maria is seemingly oblivious that one of her large hands is tangling itself in your h/c hair. you feel her fingers pull on it with intention to tilt your head back, and you allow her to, giving her mouth further access.

your eyes start to roll to the back of your skull as you let yourself almost enjoy her touch. as soon as you start to relax, her mouth pulls away while her tongue laps away any excess bleeding. a soft moan involuntarily escapes your lips from the sensitivity of it all, followed by her name in a breathy, sensual haze.

any control you have left is gone. and you think you're okay with that.

maria’s eyes open to observe the wound she left on your neck. her breaths are warm as her mouth hovers over your skin. she motions as if she’s going in for a second bite, until she pauses, and then pulls away completely. a gloved thumb runs across her bloody lips before her hands grip your waist. she simply pushes you away, creating space between you both as if nothing happened. your expression portrays speechlessness—eyes wide and lips parted slightly. maria’s hands linger on your hips while she avoids eye contact, her focus trailing up and down your frozen body.

a moment passes. you lick your lips and take a breath to speak, but her words cut you off.

“leave now, mi querida.”

she then drops her hands and turns around to lean on her desk. a hand runs through her hair to fix her appearance, and you can only stand still while your eyes level with her back. your body is ridden with shock. a blushful heat creeps its way up your aching neck and face as your mind begins to process what just happened.

you finally regain the consciousness to move, and on your way out, you catch a glimpse of the holographic screen in front of maria, a new notification now reading:

~ injection stable ~

hours pass and you still can’t tell if the darkening marks on your neck are from bruising or her dark lipstick.

or both.

you secretly hope it’s both…

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anyway lol comment if you want more, maybe i'll write full smut soon, requests are open bc idk what to write !!

-bee xx

#bee #maneskinwh0re #lesbian #wlw #maria ohara #fem miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #across the spiderverse #wlw ns/fw

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otterandterrierwrites · 6 months ago

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🖊️ my 2024 Ao3 wrapped

That's the curtain call for 2024, and thank goodness for that! Thank goodness also for fanfic and for fanfic readers. Sometimes I think "what am I still even doing here?", but the simple answer is that I still enjoy writing fic, even when it's a challenge, and it's a comforting constant when everything else is uncertain or tough. But as much as I write for myself, I also write because I want to share it with other people, so thank you for reading me 💗

Masterlist:

Don’t slip away before the dawn [pre-ESB, secret relationship, friends with benefits, rated M, sequel, wc 6,754]

Grab me by my ankles (I've been flying for too long) [edited and reposted / post-RotJ, parenthood, book missing moment, fluff, rated T, wc 1,093]

Terribly corny crap [post-RotJ, established relationship, fluff, rated T, wc 620]

Retrieval [ESB-RotJ, fluff, rated T, wc 404]

More of that [RotJ, hurt/comfort, fluff, rated T, wc 516]

The importance of optics [Han/Leia - post-RotJ, fluff, established relationship, rated T, wc 928]

His reason why [post-RotJ, established relationship, grief, rated T, wc 835]

Making amends [post-RotJ, established relationship, making-up, rated T, wc 837]

Foundation [ESB, trip to Bespin, developing relationship, rated T, wc 469]

A tactical omission [pre-ESB, developing friendships, humour, rated G, wc 3,861]

Complex symbolism [post-RotJ, established relationship, fluff, domesticity, rated T, wc 1,486]

Count me in [RotJ, developing relationship, missing scene, rated G, wc 1,257]

honey don't feed me (I will come back) [pre-ESB, vampire AU, angst, light horror, developing relationship, rated E, wc 36,320]

Groom [ESB, trip to Bespin, developing relationship, humour, domesticity, rated M, wc 3,117]

Devil side [pre-ESB, humour, UST, rated T, wc 1,495]

One more gamble [edited and reposted / RotJ, developing relationship, missing scene, rated G, wc 1,024]

yeah I wanna find tomorrow with you, baby [ESB, trip to Bespin, light angst, developing relationship, rated T, wc 3,117]

Some stats!

In 2024 I posted 62,016 words spread out in 15 new fics, against the 28,752 words I posted in 2023 with 11 fics. I also edited and reposted 2 older works.

My top time period once again was post Return of the Jedi with 6 fics.

My top rating was Teen and Up at 11 fics.

My average fic length was 3,772 words, with a majority of one-shots.

Top fic by hits: honey don't feed me (I will come back)

Top fic by kudos: A tactical omission

My most bookmarked fic was A tactical omission and the one with the most subscriptions and comments was honey don't feed me (I will come back). This was also my longest fic this year, and the shortest was Retrieval.

#hanleia #han x leia #han solo #leia organa #star wars fanfiction #2024 masterlist #(if anyone wants to use this template: go for it!)

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bts-0t-7 · 2 years ago

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Not-A-Goodbye | KSJ

Pair: Seokjin x idol!reader

Summary: You knew this day would come but you were just hoping that you wouldn’t have to face it. You thought that you were ready. But as you stood at the military base, saying your goodbyes to your beloved, you didn’t want to let him go.

Genre: Fluff, established relationship au

A/N: I am sorry for the sad chapter. I am so sorry 😭 I was bawling myself -

WC: 928

You knew time was not on your side. Time was never on either of your side.

But you never thought that it would come so fast.

The sun hung low on the horizon as the both of you got into the sleek back car. The morning sun cast a warm, golden glow over the scene at the military base. As you stood in the midst of a crowd that was all there to bid farewell to each of their beloved - whether it is family, friends, or boyfriends. You were standing there with the six of the other boys, all there to send your beloved who was about to begin his mandatory military service.

All the boys were bidding Seokjin goodbye, teasing him by constantly rubbing his now shaved head - god, just the thought of it makes you feel a fresh wave of tears. But you couldn’t move. You stood still, heart heavy with a complex mix of emotions. Your beloved was standing no more than ten footsteps away from you, dressed in his military uniform as he stood tall and proud.

But you knew him better.

As his eyes caught the attention of yours, you saw the emotions that he was trying to conceal. Your throat tightened as more tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You were so worked up on denying the fact that he was leaving but now looking at him, the reality of his absence was starting to sink in, and it was absolutely overwhelming.

Seokjin turned to you, gaze locking onto yours and instantly wrapped you in his strong arms. Despite the brave face he put on, his eyes clearly mirrored the pain and sadness you felt. Swinging your arms around his waist, you embraced him tightly, voice shaking as you whispered, “I’m going to miss you so much, Seokjin.”

He held you close, arms a cave of warmth and comfort. “Hey now…” You left tear stains on his shirt as you tried to control yourself. “I’m going to miss you too but remember what we talked about last night? You’ve gotta take care of yourself when I’m not around, okay?” You shook your head, messing with your hair as you squeezed him tighter as if if you did, he wouldn’t leave. “Don’t worry too much, okay? I’ll be alright in there.”

Worry. It was an indescribable feeling - one that constantly plagues minds and bodies; one that is a type of uncurable illness. It was a constant companion, always gnawing at your heart ever since he received his draft notice. That night, you spent it crying in his arms, begging him to stay. You knew that nothing you did would ever change as the military was part of his duty as a citizen but it was difficult. Difficulty to not worry about the dangers that he might face and the time you spent apart.

Worried about him being out in the cold, having heat flashes, his allergies, and so much more. The list was non-exhaustive. And it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. On the contrary, you trusted him too much. You knew that he wouldn’t look at others but you were worried - worried and jealous that they get to see your boyfriend doing push-ups, pull-ups, and runs.

“But I can’t help but be worried.” You admitted, voice quivering. “You mean the world to me, Jin. What if you get hurt? Like you sprain your ankle? Or maybe you dislocated your shoulder? Or what if you get too cold during the winter or faint from the heat during the summer? Or what if -”

Seokjin gently brushed a tear away from your cheek and softly kissed your lips. “Shh… I understand your concern, but worrying is not going to change anything. Plus, if I ever get too cold, I can just slap heat patches like I always do.” Seokjin turned his nose upwards, laughing. “While I’m not around, you should focus on yourself. Grow yourself so that when I come home, you can be strong enough to take anything I give you.” Seokjin gently lifted a finger to caress your cheek. “I know you’ve been putting off so many things on my behalf. Now is the time to pursue your dreams, spend time with your friends, and do whatever you want to do.” Suddenly squishing your face in his big hands, you let out a surprised squeak. “Take care of yourself. I’ll be fine and come back as soon as I can.”

It hurts to know that his words bring to you a mixture of comfort and sadness. You knew he was right but the thought of him not being by your side made it hurt so much more. The extended period made it an even harder fact to accept. Still, you nodded and wiped your tears, hoping that your little smile would be convincing enough. But the little squish that Seokjin did on your cheeks and the quivering smile on his lips gave you enough of an answer.

“I’ll… I’ll try, Seokjin. Promise to focus on myself.”

With a final, tender kiss, you reluctantly let him go. As you watched him walk away to join his fellow soldiers, you stood there, feeling a void in your heart. As they walked through the gates, you stared at Seokjin’s retreating figure until you couldn’t see him anymore. The moment you felt tears filling your eyes, you immediately turned back to the car as your shoulders shook. You knew that the days to come would be filled with missing him and longing for his presence.

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts fics #bts au #bts fanfic #seokjin agnst #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin fluff #seokjin fic #seokjin oneshot #seokjin imagine #seokjin scenarios #seokjin x oc #kim seokjin x you #bts x oc #bts agnst #bts oneshot #seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin x oc

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lovesuhng · 2 years ago

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Toma conta de mim - Johnny Suh

casal: johnny x fem!leitora gênero: fluff; br! au; amizade colorida wc: 928 sinopse: um forrozinho não faz mal a ninguém não é? inclusive, ele pode até ajudar naquele chove e não molha com o seu amigo. nota da autora: amo um forró romântico antigo, tive essa ideia voltando da faculdade porque o motorista colocou uma playlist ótima com as melhores de limão com mel e também porque só apaixonada pelo jaemin de sons do brasil da @ncdreaming. é curtinha, mas espero que gostem

Festas da universidade não era o seu tipo de programação favorito, porém, como recusar quando o tema é “Forró das antigas”? Escutava todo o tipo de músicas, mas tinha uma paixão pelo forró romântico dos anos 90 e 2000. Estava muito animada para escutar e dançar suas músicas favoritas de Calcinha Preta, Limão com Mel, Magnificos, entre outras bandas que você tanto gostava.

Tinha encontrado alguns de seus colegas do curso de letras, decidindo o que iam beber e conversando animadamente sobre outras coisas, enquanto se balançava ao som de algum forró gostosinho, quando sentiu alguns olhares em cima de você, logo percebeu que era Johnny. Ele era seu melhor amigo (ou ex, não sabe muito bem a relação que tinham agora), desde sei lá quando, entraram na universidade juntos e a partir daí começaram a descobrir muitas coisas, sendo uma delas que o que estragava amizade era emprestar dinheiro e não dar uns pegas de vez em quando, ou era o que você pensava. Todo mundo conhecia vocês como “os amigos que se pegavam às vezes”. Tinham deixado bem claro que poderiam conhecer e sair com outras pessoas, até que você quebrou a maior regra da amizade colorida: tinha se apaixonado por Johnny.

Juntou toda a coragem que tinha para falar sobre os seus sentimentos a ele, por um momento, achou que ele iria retribuir o sentimentos, mas infelizmente as coisas são ocorreram como você esperava e agora já fazia quase 2 meses que vocês não se falavam, mas isso não significa que você esqueceu tudo o que tiveram juntos e aparentemente, ele também não.

Agora estavam ali, naquela troca de olhares, que na sua cabeça não fazia o menor sentido, mas que não conseguia tirar os olhos dele. Estava conversando com sua amiga quando sentiu alguém tocar em seu ombro e era ele, Johnny, mais lindo do que nunca.

“Aceita dançar comigo?” Queria com todas as forças dizer que não, mas raramente se negava a dançar um forrozinho, principalmente se fosse com Johnny. Foram juntos para o meio do salão. Johnny colocou uma das mãos em sua cintura, te arrepiando instantaneamente, não sabia se era por conta do toque gelado diretamente na sua pele (por conta do cropped que usava) ou se era por estar tão perto dele depois de um tempo, enquanto você colocava as mãos nos seus ombros largos. Dançaram por um tempo ainda em silêncio, quando os primeiros acordes de “Toma conta de mim” de Limão com mel começaram.

Johnny colou ainda mais seus corpo, te conduzindo durante a dança, num “xamego” gostoso. Estar dançando com ele era tão certo, mas ao mesmo tempo tão errado. No meio da música, Johnny te girou, deixando de costas pra ele, consequentemente, te abraçando por trás, ainda dançando, te deixando assim mais nervosa. Fechou os olhos ao sentir a respiração dele no seu pescoço. Johnny sabia exatamente o que estava fazendo e você teve certeza disso quando ele cantarolou uma parte do refrão da música em seu ouvido:

“Toma conta de mim, me ajude a viver, eu te juro tá difícil te esquecer”.

Isso foi o suficiente para você sair dos braços dele e correr em direção a saída. Queria sair dali o mais rápido possivel. Johnny não tinha esse direito de brincar com os seus sentimentos assim. Um dia que tinha deixado claro que não queria retribuir os seus sentimentos e no outro, falava, mesmo que indiretamente, que não tinha te esquecido. Queria muito chorar de raiva, mas faria isso quando chegasse em casa. Estava prestes a chamar um uber, quando sentiu Johnny pegar no seu braço.

“Por que você fez isso?” “Você ainda pergunta, John? Você não se cansa de ser um cínico e brincar comigo desse jeito?” Tentava ao máximo se segurar, mas já não aguentava, as lágrimas já rolavam pelo rosto, deixando o coração do Johnny partido em mil pedaços.

“Mas eu estava falando sério.”

“Como assim?”

Johnny soltou o seu braço, vendo que você estava mais calma. “Desculpa por ter sido um idiota. Estava tentando entender meus sentimentos e acabei te machucando, isso é algo que nunca vou me perdoar em ter feito. Mas quero dizer que, ficar longe de você esses meses foi uma tortura, não só por causa que eu sentia saudades dos seus beijos, da sua mão boba, dos amassos no sofá do meu apartamento, mas eu sentia falta de você, das nossas conversas sem sentido, dos nossos dates na sorveteria no final da rua da universidade, de cada momento que passamos juntos.” Fez questão de limpar cada lágrima sua, fazendo também um carinho no seu rosto. “Quero ser seu, sem mais casualidades. Quero ser seu por inteiro e a todo momento. Precisei te ver longe para perceber o quanto sou apaixonado por você.”

Estava tentando entender todas as palavras que Johnny tinha falado para dar uma resposta, mas apenas de jogou nos braços dele o beijando. Esse beijo tinha sido diferente de todos os outros, porque havia um sentimento maior das duas partes, Johnny depositando todo o seu amor e você se sentindo a mulher mais amada do mundo.

“Isso significa que estou perdoado?” Johnny disse assim que interrompeu o beijo, tentando procurar um pouco de ar e dando um sorrisinho que te desmontava todinha.

“Eu queria ser mais orgulhosa, mas não consigo resistir a você.” Deu mais um selinho nos lábios do moreno. “Agora, podemos voltar lá para dentro? Você sabe que não resisto a um forró.”

“Vamos sim, mas agora que mostrar para todo mundo o quão forrozeira e linda minha namorada é.”

#nct #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct fluff #johnny suh #nct fanfic #johnny x reader #nct br au #nct pt au #nct 127 br au #nct x reader #nct drabbles #nct 127 fluff #nct writers #friends to lovers

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bloodazed · 4 months ago

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⋆ ｡⋆🦇˚— forever yours

SYN: college life can be fun at times, but every school has those group of people who love to belittle those who are happy

cw: bullying ; light kissing ⚔︎ wc: 928 genre: established relationship, college au, comfort, fluff author’s note: Wow, I finally completed this. I hate the holiday season for making it hard to focus on writing because this was a struggle to get through

library ⚔︎ inbox

“WHY IS HE still with that girl?” I heard one of the students ask her group of friends as I made my way down the hallway towards my locker at the end, multiple books hugging close to my chest. The soft smile that was already on my face disappeared in an instant when I caught the girl glaring directly at me while her group of friends were surrounded around her, laughing quietly to themselves.

“I’m sure he is only putting up with her out of pity,” one of them responded as the group began to walk away, nudging their shoulder against mine as they passed, causing me to lose my balance and the books to fall out of my tight grasp.

I flinched as the multiple books landed on the hallway floor. Sniffling to myself, I lowered my trembling body to the ground and started to pick them up, avoiding any eye contact as a few students walked passed me.

“Y/N. . .,” I heard a man’s voice come from in front of me followed by a quiet sigh as he got closer to where I was.

Warm tears began to glide down my face and land on the back of my hands when I recognized that comforting tone in the man’s voice.

“Y/N, You’re going to be all right. No one will hurt you, I’m here,” the man whispered softly as he wrapped his fingers around both of my wrists and gently pulls me into his chest. The warmth radiating from his body instantly wrapped around me in the warmest and comforting hug, causing the tears to fall more as I buried my tearstained face against the crook of his neck.

“Why do they treat me like that when I have done nothing wrong to them?” I ask, my voice coming out muffled from hiding my face against his neck.

I felt his fingers glide down my back faintly before tangling themselves into strands of my hair.

“They just aren’t happy with themselves, so they find enjoyment on taking their pain out on those who are genuinely happy,” he responds, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

Releasing yet another shaky breath, I slowly pulled away from his warm embrace and wiped my tearstained face before fully looking at him.

“Are you only saying that to make me feel better?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly at the end.

He shook his head before cupping my face in both of his hands. “Not at all. You know I will never lie to you, sweetheart,” he reassures me while brushing yet another loose tear away as it began to roll down my cheek.

Silence wrapped around the two of us the longer I remained in his arms. A heartbeat later he was fully pulling away and placing both of my hands into his, squeezing them gently. “Come on, let’s ditch the remaining classes we have and go to either an ice cream shop or the park,” he suggests, the corner of his mouth turning into a soft smirk once he shocked look on my face.

“What’s that look for?” he asks, playfully poking my cheek with his index finger.

I blinked twice. “You want us to ditch the rest of the day? What if someone catches us and they tell our teachers?” I ask, worrying at my bottom lip with my teeth faintly.

He chuckles softly before squeezing my hands again. “There is no need to be afraid. I promise we won’t get caught.”

I nodded my head slowly and allowed him to pull me towards the entrance of the school building, too nervous to even look behind me for any proof of us being completely alone in the halls.

“ARE YOU STILL feeling nervous?” he asks while both of us were currently sitting in the mall’s cafeteria, surrounded by a lot of strangers.

I set the smoothie I had in my hands back down on the table we were currently sitting at and bit my bottom lip faintly. “No. I’m feeling better than I did earlier,” I tell him, my voice low enough for only him to hear.

My gaze focused on my hands as they rest in my lap. I hear him sigh softly. “Will you please look at me, beautiful?” he softly asks.

I felt my heart skip a beat as the little nickname he will use every now and then leave his lips. Sighing to myself, I lift my face up and look directly at the man, getting lost in his worried gaze.

Warmth automatically brushed the side of my cheek as he cupped my face in both of his hands. “Don’t listen to what they say or pay attention to what they do. They are just jealous of the type of relationship we have,” he reassures me in a gentle voice while lightly brushing the pad of his thumb against my cheek, removing the fresh tear that was currently gliding down my face.

“You are forever mine and I am forever yours. Don’t let their negative words and jealousy get to you. You are the only person that I am constantly thinking about when we are apart. The only one I want to be with for as long as you want me in your life,” he whispered softly while pulling me closer to him, pressing his forehead against mine as both of his arms wrapped around my waist, slipping both of his hands in the back pockets of my jeans before pressing his mouth against mine, deepening the kiss immediately.

#writers of tumblr #writing community #kpop writing #creative writing #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #writeblr #kpop drabbles

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sweetimpurity · 8 months ago

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💖 day 24!! literally by a minute woah this is part three I hope it makes sense haha! it's hard to write when there's two different Miguel's. wc: 2.3k

Mig = Earth 731 Miguel = Earth 928

Part 1 Part 2

Earth 731

The dreams haunt him for days. Then for weeks. Then those weeks turned into months. Every night he’d dream of you. Your body, your face. Every day he would watch you. Watch you wake up beside your Miguel, watch you get ready for work, watch you leave for work. He’d observe your walk to work and like always, make sure you get there safely. And by the end of the day he’d watch you do it all again in reverse. All the while he goes about his days. Working on his portal generator and analyzing video feed, collecting parts for his machine and even going to a few shady shops to buy rare parts. Determined to get to you. Determined to leave his dimension and go somewhere else. With you.

He’s got his sights set on Earth 546. It’s almost a mirror to your dimension but there’s no Miguel O’hara there. And there’s no you there. So you’ll both easily be able to take your place in this new dimension.

And finally… finally after months of working, of obsessing, he finally cracks it. The generator glitching and sparking during his first few test rounds but then he’s able to send an object through and track where it lands. Tossing his ‘worlds biggest brain’ coffee mug through the swirling portal and watching it through his numerous feeds, plopping down in Earth-965A. Exactly the coordinates he set. Success. Now to think of a plan. He’s got the destination, he’s got the wristbands he constructed to prevent glitching across dimensions. One for you and one for himself. Now to find his opening.

Tonight, he’s watching the feed as usual. Some of the views from street cameras and satellites are obscured as you and your Miguel take a walk on the beach. His brow is furrowed, studying the feed, trying to figure out what the two of you are doing. He knows it's your anniversary. He listened to you talk about it with a friend at work today. And he already knows that your Miguel is going to miss it. Even while you’re holding hands and walking on the beautiful sunset soaked sand, he doesn’t trust your Miguel to actually follow through.

Finally he watches the two of you entering the restaurant. Your favorite restaurant. He knows because he’s heard you say it before. Sitting down and watching you order the food. Watching the way your Miguel speaks to you, like he’s judging every inflection, every phrase. Pushing up his glasses and working quietly on something else he’s building. Always building something, always trying to work on new inventions, it’s one of the ways he escapes.

"Babe... I'm so sorry... I think I have to go." He hears through the feed, looking up, turning up the volume and paying closer attention. Hearing your heartbroken tone when you ask if he’s sure. Like you’re just begging for him to give you a sliver of undivided attention. Watching your Miguel get up from the table and say a few more words before he’s leaving the place. Leaving you alone sitting there on your anniversary.

"You'll be my number one babe... when I get back I promise… I love you…” He hears the words. Your boyfriend clearly is not caring about the effect his words and departure are having on you. Just watching him go. Switching the feed to watch him scaling the side of the building and swinging off to go fight another villain. Of course he can understand the temptation, with great power comes great responsibility. But this is you. You are the one being forgotten and he can’t let it go on. This is his opening.

Over the next hour, everything is set and ready. Pressing his suit to go on, nanotech spread over his skin and his face. Punching into his generator and then…

Destination: Earth 928 calibrating…

"Baby!" He calls. His breath catching in his throat seeing you there at the end of the alleyway. Like an angel. A vision from his dreams: you're there. And it’s the first time he’s seeing you in the flesh. “You have to come with me. Right now baby… This dimension’s gonna go.” He explains, trying to sound believable. Trying not to break down when he finally feels the pressure of your hands in his. Just like how he’d always imagined it. And looking down at you through his suit, your eyes, your pretty face is so much more beautiful when it’s not on a pixelated screen. He has to stop himself from hugging you tight and never letting you go.

When you willingly go with him, it’s an answer to his wishes. The promise of his torturous dreams come to life. Keeping his hands on you so he’ll never be separated from you again. He walks you through the portal and it closes behind you both. Gone.

2 months later.

Earth 546

“YOU!”

Mig looks up from his desk, out his office door to see who’s shouting down the hall. Alchemax employees turning and looking too, whispering and discussing the drama unfolding. Whispering about ‘twins’, chatting about ‘that guy looks just like Dr. O’hara’ until Miguel 928 storms across the room. “Shit shit shit” Mig 731 grunts, leaving his seat and rushing to get up and try to close the door before he can barge in. But it’s too late. And that door wouldn’t have done much of anything anyway. BAM! Miguel bursts through the door, knocking it through, in his spider suit ready for action and shooting a death glare at the variant before him. “Where is she??” He demands an answer.

“Where is who? I don’t-”

“Where is my girlfriend? The one you literally stole from me two fucking months ago??” He shouts through the small room, making people get up from their desks and wonder what's going on. Miguel growls, turning and seeing prying eyes. Grabbing the door he busted down and slamming it back in the doorframe, securing it with webs so no one can get in.

“L-look you-”

“Just shut up and tell me where she is. She’s coming home with me, I’ve been searching for two months, tracking that damn portal and now I finally found you. Where. Is. She?” Miguel stalks closer to him, making Mig step back up to the windows, his back facing the glass. Increasingly on edge. He didn’t think this day would come. He didn’t think he’d be caught. There are infinite Miguel O’haras and yet he still found him. The two Miguel's face to face.

“You-”

“What, did you kill some other Miguel and take his place here? Think you can put on a fucking lab coat and pretend like you belong here? There’s not even supposed to be a Miguel O’hara in this dimension!” Miguel shouts.

“I know that! And I didn’t kill anyone!” Mig finally shouts back, taken aback by his alternate self’s aggression. But he’s not surprised after watching him treat you so poorly for months.

“Then what’s this all about? What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Miguel growls. Glaring at him with fury in his eyes. “This is about her.” Mig says simply, stoking the fire that’s already blazing in Miguel. “You left her alone… so many times and… she needed you. She needs me.”

“You think you can be me, you don’t know the first thing about me.” Miguel seethes. And Mig gives him an incredulous look.

“Are you kidding, I am you!” Mig shouts before he’s socked in the nose by Miguel’s flying fist. Knocking his glasses off his face, instant blood dripping down his lip. “You son of a bitch-”

Hands go flying, the variants tearing the place apart. Mig’s nose is bleeding still while Miguel’s anger gets the best of him. Webs scatter and stick to almost every surface in the room as the two hulking heroes try to take each other down.

“I watched you ignore her for months!” Mig shouts, slamming Miguel up the wall and landing a powerful blow to his alternate’s jaw. “You don’t deserve her.” He growls, winding up for another punch before Miguel slams his shoulder into his opponent's chest, knocking him back, the fight continuing because they’re perfectly, flawlessly matched of course. Neither of them is stronger to defeat the other.

“You think you deserve her any more? She doesn’t even know who you are!” Miguel yells, throwing punches of which most are dodged, shooting webs, pulling, knocking Mig off his feet. He scrambles off the floor, pushing through the broken door and webs. Alchemax workers gasping in horror watching him emerge. This man they’ve come to know in the past two months as a new geneticist. And his insane, violent twin come to kill him.

Mig bursts through the door, dashing down the hall and loosening his tie. Pressing the side of his neck and his suit starts to appear. Nanotechnology spreading down his body and covering his skin, replacing the smart work attire he was wearing before. He runs down the halls, past panicked onlookers. Running for the door to the roof and when it’s locked he just slams his shoulder into it to get it open. Sprinting up to the roof of Alchemax Industries, the wind whipping past his cheek until his mask fabricates over his face. Masked in his signature red and blue cowl. Checking his surroundings to quickly make sure Miguel 928 isn’t on his tail before thwipping off and swinging from building to building to get to the apartment.

…

Miguel’s been so lovely ever since the collapse. When he told you the dimension was as good as gone, he assured you this life would be better, guiding you through and explaining that this dimension was meant to be your home now. Together.

You even have a diamond on your finger now. Finally after all this time. You suppose all it took was the collapse of the timeline to make him get his priorities straight. Proposing only days after getting to this new place.

“Baby?” You hear him call from the living room. Poking your head out of the kitchen to see him stepping in through the bay window. In his spider suit? That’s a bit unusual nowadays.

“Hey, how was work?” You ask with a smile. Mig smiles at you in the dimness of the apartment, trying to calm his breathing and act like everything’s normal. As he’s been doing for two months now. Pulling the shades in the living room closed, walking past you and kissing your cheek tenderly, passing to the kitchen to close those blinds too. It’s been a little hard to read him ever since coming to this new place. He’s just so different now in a lot of ways. But for the better you think. He hardly ever goes out as Spiderman anymore, always opting to stay home with you to make dinner, maybe slow dance in the kitchen. To spend the evenings talking and laughing, end the night making love. Even the way he makes love to you is a bit different. More tender, more patient. Less like he’s coming to you for relief and more like he’s genuinely interested in making a connection with you every time. Like every time he’s inside you it’s like he’s been longing for it for ages.

“Work was good um… yeah it was good” He stops in the kitchen to face you and it’s in this light you’re able to see the marks on his face. The bruises and the stain of red under his nose. “My god, what happened?” Your smile fades, stepping closer and looking up at his beaten face. And why are you in your suit? You think silently.

“Just ran into some crooks, y’know…” He sighs, not wanting you to worry,but his calm demeanor hardens when his super sensitive hearing picks up a thud on the roof. Staring at you with wide eyes as you speak. “You should put some ice on that, love, it’s going to really hurt…” You say, walking past him to get the ice from the freezer. He stays deadly still, listening. Footsteps, heavy footsteps on the roof and he just knows. He huffs, fast, long strides around the apartment to lock the doors, even pulling the chain locks closed. Making sure the windows are closed, the curtains closed. You’re trying to get him an icepack and he’s marching around the apartment like a madman. Locking up the place. He won’t let you leave him. Not ever. Not when he’s finally got you to himself. He loves you too much.

“Baby…” He hums suddenly at the kitchen door. Watching you wrap an icepack in paper towel so it won’t be too cold on his skin. “Yes?” You look up at him, in his eyes.

“I love you…” He sighs. All serious and sincerity. Slowing walking towards you around the kitchen island. “I love you too…” You reply softly, watching him come closer. “Did you hit your head or something?”

“No… I just… want you all to myself tonight… and forever…” He hums, brushing some hair behind your ear and admiring your face. The face he watched on a screen for so long, takes his breath away every time he’s this close to you. Feels like he’s known you a lifetime. “Will you say you’re mine?” He whispers, cupping your cheek.

“I’m yours…” You reply without a thought. Because why would you need to think?

His lips are instantly on yours, like he’s been yearning to kiss you. Like he’s needed to do it for a million years. His tongue delving into your mouth, his large hands coming to both sides of your face and holding. Bringing your mouth back to him anytime you gasp for air. Anytime you’re too far from him for even a second. Biting down on your lips and rubbing his tongue alone your firmly. Tasting you and licking into your sweet perfect mouth.

You’re his. And no one will take you from him. Not even himself.

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh @maxad99 @muuuwoppppp @reader-1290

@sp0ck136 @lazyninjaphilosopher

@pinkdizzyship @opalwitchart

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

plus those who requested a part 2+:

@d3stin7 @laysmt @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @marshhbs

@twwcs @resident-clown @haveclayeveryday

@fullmetal-spiderling @grumpyahjumma

@lxverrings @lazyjellyfish300

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