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liliacamethyst · 11 months

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Web of Shadow and Light (Part III)

Sequel to Webs of Fate

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2 K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine

Part I Part II Part III

The Spider-HQ echo with an unsettling symphony - a child's piercing cries and the hushed whispers of concern from some of the multiverse's bravest Spider heroes. They stand clustered around the smallest yet most powerful disturbance they've ever encountered - a baby boy. His wails have been echoing through the HQ since Miguel left the room, leaving the baby and dozens of Spider-man behind. Each cry is a call for help that pulls at their hearts, demanding attention, challenging their patience.

After much deliberation and coaxing from the rest, Miguel gave his team an ultimatum - they have until dawn to find an alternative solution, before Gabriel has to be eliminated, before the universe collapses on itself. His voice was a cold whisper when he spoke, "Figure out another way by tomorrow morning, or..." Nobody dares to complete the sentence, not even Miguel, the unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. And with that Miguel was gone, and the baby immediately started wailing and hasn’t stopped since.

Now Gwen, with her brows knitted in worry, rocks the baby with desperate gentleness. Her blue eyes are bright with unshed tears, a look of sheer helplessness painting her usually confident face. Beside her Peter B. is attempting to cheer Gabriel up but his efforts as pointless as they are endearing. The usually funny and charming Peter B seems to be losing a battle of wits with a one-year-old. It would've been humorous, had the situation been any different.

The sight of the little baby boy weeping his heart out, oblivious to the chaos his presence is causing tugs at their hearts, binding them in a collective resolution - they must protect this child. The shadows and the light, entwined in this web they’ve all been thrown into. And the clock is ticking.

Hobie scoops up the little boy, cradling him close in an attempt to soothe his relentless tears. "See, the cow says muhhhhh," he coos. His tiny cries falter, curiosity momentarily replacing distress. He gazes at Hobie with wide eyes, intrigued by the cool looking man. "And the butterfly," Hobie pauses dramatically, "well, the butterfly don’t say nothin’." He continues his little game, while rocking the baby gently in his arms. "And the pig says-"

Miles chimes in with an eager grin, "Oink, Oink."

"Nah, bruv," Hobie laughs. “The pig says, ‘You have the right to remain silent!’”

Gabriel’s face scrunches up, and the waterworks start again. Hobie chuckles, "Fair enough, little fella. Cops make me wanna cry too."

Meanwhile Jessica Drew, clad in her black and white Spider-Woman outfit, her dark locks cascading around her shoulders, is leaning against the doorframe, half entering the room, her eyebrows raised. "Well? I assume he didn’t stop crying?“

Beside her Peter B. with his shaggy brown hair and five o’ clock beard just shakes his head.

“This is nuts. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is working.“ Gwen states.

In the background, the cries of baby Gabriel cotinue, little fists flailing as he continued his tantrum. Jessica, arching an eyebrow, comments, “He’s still going at it?”

Hobie Brown, just gives her a quick nod. “Oh yeah, the kid has got a set of lungs.”

Suddenly, Pavitr Prabhakar, yelps as a makeshift toy, made out of wood and spiderwebs, hit him square in the forehead. "Ow! And one hell of arm throw."

Methodically, Jessica starts running through a mental checklist. “Diaper?”

Peter B. Parker nods. “Clean.”

“Food?” Jessica glances at Miles who holds a baby food jar and a bent spoon.

Miles, in his black and red suit, shrugs. “Kept smacking the spoon out my hand.”

“Nap?” Jessica's questions further.

The entire room answer in unison, clearly frustrated “Literally the first thing we tried.”

Pavitr smirkes at them. “Jinx.” But his joke is short-lived as Gabriels screams become even louder.

Gwen, then takes charge, “Ok, we have to do something,” her eyes flicking around the room with determination. She points to Jess, “You have to talk to Miguel. You’ve been around him the longest, maybe you can get through to him.”

Jess looks hesitant but nods.

“And Peter,” Gwen turns to Peter B who’s still juggling items in his hands, to entertain the baby and stop his crying. “Get Mayday’s toys. Maybe the baby’s just bored.”

Peter gives a thumbs up. “You got it, boss.”

“And Pav, Hobie,” Gwen instructs, her voice steady. “You need to rally the other Spider-people. We need everyone on board to protect this little guy.”

“Margo, you’re with me, girl. We are paying our old friend Lyla a little surprise visit. Something’s a little fishy with her.” Margo nods eagerly.

As everyone scatters into action, Miles stands there, looking slightly lost and raising his hands. "Hey, guys, you forgot about me! What am I supposed to do? How can I help?" he calls out to the rapidly moving group.

Pav whirls around and points at Miles, "You, take care of the little guy, newbie," he says, as Hobie thrusts the still crying baby into Miles' arms.

"Great," Miles grumbles, balancing Gabriel on his hip and looking down at the squirming bundle of tears.

He starts to bounce up and down gently, trying to imitate what he's seen in movies. The baby continues to cry, unfazed by Miles' efforts.

“Alright buddy, let’s figure this out together. I can swing through New York, so how hard can babysitting be?” Miles whispers to the baby.

Hours drag on and Gabriel's relentless cries continue to echo through the HQ. Despite his earnest attempts, Miles, armed with only his spider powers and limited babysitting experience, is unsuccessful in calming the baby. He’s tried everything he can think of – makinf funny faces, telling funny stories in a soothing tone, gently swinging him back and forth with his web-slinging skills, and even humming a little tune (it was Humble by Kendrick Lamar, but the thought counts, right?). At one point, he even tried to entertain the baby by creating animals out of webbing, but that didn’t work either. The baby is relentless, and his cries only seem to get louder.

In the meantime in Miguel’s office, the echoing cries penetrate through the walls. Migel is sitting behind his desk looking at some documents, while Jess stands in front of him.

“Please, Miguel, it’s a baby boy. How did you imagine doing this, huh?” Jess exclaims, her voice rising. “Did you plan to build some sort of machine to just vaporize him? Or did you think of strangling him with your own bare hands? I know you’re not a monster.” But Miguel's face remains stoic, his eyes never leaving the papers on his desk.

“And look,” Jess continues, pointing vaguely in the direction of where the baby’s cries are coming from, “this baby is already older, and nothing has collapsed yet. The universe is still here.”

“I can’t risk any more lives, Jess,”Miguel responds coldly, finally looking up at her.

“But what if there is another way? We haven’t even tried everything. We have brilliant minds here. Let’s...let’s figure something out that doesn’t involve.. that,” Jess pleads, her voice softening.

Miguel looks at her for a long moment but his expression remains unreadable. The cries of the baby continue to fill the air.

Jess then turns her gaze towards Lyla, , who is stationed nearby, her holographic interface flickering with data. “Lyla, what are the kid’s powers? Run a genetics test, a DNA test. We need something to work with.”

Lyla’s synthetic voice answers in an eerily calm tone, "I have already processed the genetic information, Jessica. Thanks very much, genius. As per my findings, the child’s power attributes remain undefined. In regards to the DNA test..."

Lyla hesitates just a fraction of a second, but enough for Miguel to notice. It's an unexpected response from an AI that's programmed to be efficient and direct. A strange tingle rises within him but he pushes it aside, refocusing on the matter at hand.

“is inconclusive.” Jess squints at Lyla. “Inconclusive? What do you mean? Is he an anomaly or not?”

“He’s an anomaly, certainly. However, the DNA analysis is...complicated,” Lyla maintains her composed tone. “Complicated how?” Jess presses on. “Just...unfamiliar and intermingled genetic markers,” Lyla responds vaguely. “The child is an enigma.”

"Miguel, please" she continues, turning back to Miguel, clearly frustrated with Lyla's vague responses that are not helping her case. Her tone is still serious, "this isn't some variation of a monster, this is a baby."

For a moment, Miguel’s gaze flickers, his usual icy aura briefly wavering. "It doesn't matter," he finally grunts, closing his eyes as if to physically shut out the argument. Jessica's voice turns unexpectedly brittle. "I didn't join the Society to kill innocent kids."

Miguel clenches his jaw hard. "We do what we have to do for the greater good. No exceptions." Jessica takes a deep breath, her next words coming out almost in a whisper. "What if there was my Gerald or a version of your-" she begins, but is quickly cut off.

"DON’T. Don't even go there, Jessica" Miguel growls, his hand forming into a tight fist. "And why the hell is it still crying?"

Jessica's gaze softens slightly. "That child, that little boy, probably misses his parents. Parents who are going through hell right now, searching for their baby." Miguel's fist tightens further, a spark of something, maybe regret, guilt, flashing in his eyes. Jessica presses on trying one last time to convince him. "He was found in 586, right? Maybe we can reconnect with Su-"

"No," Miguel interrupts sharply, his voice a final command. “Until tomorrow morning, Jess,” he finally says in a low voice, putting an end to Jess’ outburst. “That’s all. You can leave now.”

There’s a heavy silence, where the only sound is Gabriel’s distant crying.

Jessica looks at Miguel, her gaze piercing. "Think about what you’re doing, Miguel," she whispers and leaves the room, closing the door softly behind her.

In the heart of the HQ, Margo sifts through the labyrinth of Lyla's concealed data. She uncovers a file that captures her attention – the baby's DNA results. "There you are," she mutters to herself, an air of triumph in her voice. As she opens the file, her eyes widen in disbelief, "Oh no…“

"What is it, Margo?" Gwen asks making her way over to Margo.

Margo's voice trembles slightly. "So, while looking through the hidden data, I found the baby's... there was a parental match."

Gwen's heart skips a beat. “I knew something was was off with Lyla. Of course she knows more. Well, who are the little guy's parents?"

Margo hesitates, then blurts out, "Miguel and Sunny."

Gwen stops dead in her tracks, her mind reeling. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

"The baby's mother is Sunny, and the father is Miguel," Margo reiterates, her voice steady.

Gwen eyes widen. "But... are you sure? I know Sunny's baby. I was there when baby Gabriel was born!“

"Yes, I'm sure. There were two parental matches for the baby in the spider DNA logs:Sun Spider and Spider-Man 2099. When was the last time you saw the baby, Gwen? Babies change quickly at that age." Margo confirms.

"Miguel and Sunny? That's not possible... how have we never noticed that there's something going on between those two?" Gwen's mind whirls with confusion.

"Oh, I noticed," Margo's voice holds a hint of smugness, "The way he was sneaking into her room at night? And the way he looked at her every time she set foot in a room, like a lovesick puppy. It was adorable. Wait, nobody else noticed?"

Gwen splutters, taken aback, "What? No, I... well, he's all 'we need to sacrifice ourselves to protect the multiverse. No more traveling for fun'" she imitates Miguel's voice with a teasing lilt, then she adds, "And Sunnys is literally the personification of a warm embrace."

Gwen's mind whirls but she continues, “ Woah, okay lets focus on the important part. I mean, I knew something was wrong with Lyla, but why... why would she do that?"

"There's more, Gwen," Margo says, her voice shaking slightly. "I found another thing in her data. It's... it's about how she's processing information."

Gwen frowns, "What do you mean?"

Margo takes a deep breath before explaining, "In simple terms, Lyla's been teaching herself new things. She's changing, growing beyond her original programming. Her code is self-evolving."

"And the data about the baby?" Gwen asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Margo sighs, "She's been... twisting it, making the baby seem more dangerous than it actually is."

Gwen's mind reels with this new information, the world around her seeming to tilt. "But why?" she finally manages to ask. "Why would Lyla do this?"

"I don't know, Gwen," Margo admits. "But we need to find out and warn Miguel. And soon."

Meanwhile in Miguels office, the wailing becomes louder, almost as if piercing through the walls, trying to reach something, or someone. Miguel's face betrays his discomfort, as if the cries are tugging at his walls around his heart. There's a weight on his chest, something unidentifiable that makes it hard to breathe.

Suddenly Lyla’s holographic interface hums. She begins to show the outline various strategies for eliminating the child. Her voice, analtytic but almost cheerful, fills the room. “So, we could create a temporal displacement field, effectively erasing the child from existence. Or perhaps expose him to a slow-acting molecular destabilizer..."

"Based on the trial," she continues unfazed by Miguel’s lack of response. "the device should work as intended, wiping out any of its DNA and trace. Be like the anomaly never existed." There's a hint of satisfaction in her words.

Miguel, until now staring blankly at the wall, finally turns towards Lyla, his complexion pale and his eyes wide.

His insides twist painfully, the mere idea of bringing harm to this innocent child becoming now unbearable.

“Stop,” Miguel chokes out.

“Apologies, Miguel. We must consider all options for preserving the multiverse. You out of all people should know that,”Lyla retorts.

But something within Miguel snaps. His ice-cold distant facade crumbles. Rising abruptly, his chair clatters loudly onto the floor.

Without saying another word, he strides out of his office. “Miguel? Are you listening? Where are you going?” Lyla calls after him, but her words are unanswered in the empty room.

Walking down the hallway, Miguel slows down as he passes the room where the infant's cries come from. He pauses when he hears Miles' pleas inside.

“Little dude, if you stop crying promise I’ll get you some cool kicks. Maybe some baby Jordans? Please, please just stop crying,” Miles pleads, his voice sounding desperate and utterly exhausted.

After a moment hesitation, Miguel pushes open the door and steps into the room. His gaze, sterner than ever, as he takes in the scene: Miles looking near defeat, his energy spent trying to soothe the wailing child, his spider suit rumpled and hair disheveled.

"Enough," Miguel comms sharply.

Miles looks up from where he's been pacing with the baby, his eyes wide like he's just been caught stealing cookies from a jar. “You,” Miguel points at Miles, who is holding the still-crying baby. His voice booms with authority. “Put him down”

Miles, slightly dumbfounded, obeys and carefully lays the child down on his makeshift bed. “I need you to return to Earth 586. Get some of his belongings - toys, blankets, anything you can find," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"But Miguel--" Miles startsbut gets cut off immediately.

"Now," he says, his red eyes flashing dangerously. Miles opens the portal hastily and disspears to your universe.

The crying has subsided to whimpers, and Miguel finds himself kneeling next to the little one, who reaches out for him. As if on autopilot, Miguel’s hands scoop him up abruptly from the bed.

"Quiet, niño. "Miguel growls at him with a low and threatening tone. "I could just... do it right now." His irritation gets the better of him, and he bares his fangs at the little one. This sight shocks Gabriel into silence for a moment, his big, teary eyes widening at the sight.

But then, to Miguel's surprise, the baby breaks into a fit of giggles, the sound infectious and joyous.

Gabriel suddenly mimics Miguel, baring his own little teeth – two tiny milk teeth and the beginnings of baby fangs peeking from his gums, causing Miguel to stiffen in shock.

Caught off guard Miguel's hold slips and Gabriel lands back on the web-shaped bed with a bounce. The baby's laughter ends abruptly and is replaced once more with tears and cries.

Still in shock, Miguel stumbles back a step, but Gabriel's cries soon pull him back into the present. With a sigh, he picks up the little boy yet again andGabriel immediately snuggles into the crook of Miguel’s neck, his tiny arms winding tightly around his throat. Miguel swallows hard, unsure of what to do next.

Then, almost instinctively, he starts to hum a tune he thought he'd long forgotten. "Tú eres mi sol de la mañana, el sol que brilla..." His voice is barely audible, the words shaky. Gabriel's little body relaxes against him, a content sigh escaping his lips followed by a quiet yawn. He nuzzles closer to Miguel, his tiny breaths falling into sync with the rhythm of the song. "...alegra todo, mi corazón," Miguel coninues softly, his mind flooding with memories. He sees a bright, lively girl with the same curious eyes as the boy in his arms.

"Daddy," Gabriella asks, her large eyes bright with curiosity as she looks up at him, "why do you call me your morning sun? I'm not yellow."

Miguel chuckles at her innocence, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He cradles her against his chest, looking into those eyes so full of wonder. "No, mija" he replies, his voice soft with affection "you're not yellow but you are my sunshine."

"But why?" She wrinkles her little nose, her childish curiosity making Miguel's heart fill up with love.

"Because, mijita," he begins, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, "just like the sun, you light up my world. You chase away the darkness with your laughter and your love. You are warmth, you are joy, and just like the morning sun, you are a new beginning, a promise of a brighter day."

Gabriella blinks up at him, her lips curving into a small, and she hides her smile in the crook of his neck. "I like that, Papi," she whispers, "Sing the song again, please?"

“brilla, conmigo, brilla que brilla, alegrandome esta cancion. Tu eres mi sol de la manana…“

Eyes closed, Miguel draws Gabriel unconsciously closer, his heart full, and for the first time he’s feeling a sense of contentment he hasn't experienced in years.

The moment is shattered by the sound of a throat being cleared, pulling him abruptly out of his peaceful trance.

Peter B is standing in the doorway, arms loaded with various dolls. "Wow, he's finally asleep," he remarks, looking between Miguel and the now sleeping Gabriel with a relieved smile. "I was starting to think that was impossible."

Without responding, or even sparing a glance in Peter's direction, Miguel turns away from the door and heads to the bed. He gently places the sleeping toddler down, pulling a small blanket over him. Once he's confident that Gabriel is settled, Miguel quietly leaves the room, his demeanor as frosty and aloof as ever, making no acknowledgment of Peter's presence.

Peter B is quick on his feet, rushing after Miguel. "I brought him toys from Mayday," he blurts out. "She won't miss them. She's not too good at sharing, but I guess she won’t mind in this case."

Miguel continues his stride, not giving Peter so much as a backward glance. "Que maravilla," he mutters under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Ignoring the dismissal, Peter B. reaches out and places a hand on Miguel's arm, stopping him in his tracks. Miguel raises an eyebrow and glances back at him half-heartedly, clearly not interested in a conversation.

Peter takes a moment, his gaze intensifying. "Hey, boss," he begins, his voice shaky yet determined. "We can't let anything happen to this boy, right?"

At Peter's words, Miguel closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.

Back on Earth 586, you're in the throes of a meltdown. Your little boy, Gabriel, is nowhere to be found. You've scoured the whole city of Nea Yorkey, every nook and cranny you can think of, but there's no trace of him anywhere. Desperation gnaws at your insides, and fury bubbles up, hot and fierce. Your mind is in turmoil, swirling with anger and fear, clouding your ability to think straight. One thing is crystal clear though: whoever dared to touch your child will pay dearly for their actions.

You're frantically trying to find a way to contact anyone from the Spider Society, while simultaneously considering every possible avenue to traverse the multiverse yourself. Alchemax - the multinational conglomerate known for its cutting-edge research and technological advancements - seems to be your only hope. As you're about to make your way there, a sound from Gabriel's room stops you in your tracks.

Your Spider senses, already on high alert due to the unexpected circumstances, seem to kick into overdrive. Every instinct within you screams that something is about to happen. Your heart pounds in your chest like a wild drum as you slowly approach the room.

Meanwhile, in Gabriel's room, Miles is having his own share of troubles. In his haste, he stumbles over a toy car that starts making an assortment of noises and brightly lit animations. "Ah, this stupid toy!" he curses under his breath.

A thought suddenly crosses his mind and he wonders aloud, "Wait, does he need a blanket?" Just as he's about to reach for a small bunny stuffed animal that lay discarded on the floor, an intense blast of sonic energy sweeps across the room.

Caught by surprise, Miles finds himself flung across the room, his back hitting the wall with a thud. Before he can even let out a gasp, a spider web shoots out, pinning him securely against the wall. There he hangs, suspended, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. His breath comes in shallow gasps as he attempts to comprehend what just happened. Well its safe to say he didn’t saw that coming.

Miles, still stuck against the wall, manages to blurt out, "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" you echo, incredulity lacing your tone. "You break into my son's room and ask me whoI am?"

Your mind races as Miles stammers, "Wait, your son's room? Wait, are you...are you a Spider-person aswell?"

Ignoring his question, you stride towards him, an aura of threat radiating off you. "Stop talking!" you command, "I ask the questions!" In your hand, a ball of solar energy forms, crackling with power and casting a glow across the room.

"Why are you here? Where is my son?" The words are more of a growl than a question, the motherly instincts in you sending waves of danger rippling across the room. "Your son is okay, please don't hurt me!" Miles pleads with a shaky fear laced voice.

Squirmy and visibly frightened, Miles stammers out his confession, "We-we took him...it was our mission... He's an anomaly...we needed to get him out of this universe, send him to his own, so it wouldn’t collapse and interfere with the multiverse...but he doesn't have one, and I'm so sorry..."

His voice dwindles to a murmur, words tumbling over one another in his haste. Amidst his ramblings, your icy inquiry slices through like a blade, "Who instructed you?"

A sharp wince contorts his face, betraying his fear. "Our boss..." he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, "Miguel... Miguel O'Hara."

The energy in your hand dissipates, leaving only shock in its place. It's almost too much to take in - the idea that Miguel, your Miguel, could have done something like this. "He's okay, we... we didn't know he was the son of a Spider-woman. I'm Miles Morales, by the way." he introduces himself, attempting to inject some normalcy into the situation.

"I'm Spider-Sun," you respond automatically, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.

"Wait … you?" Miles' eyes widen in recognition. "You're Sunny?" When you give a numb nod in response, he continues, "You look more like 'Stormy' if you ask me." Your gaze snaps to Miles, the intensity of your death glare immediately silencing his attempt at humour. "Sorry, sorry," he stammers, raising his hands in surrender. "I just...I've heard Gwen and Peter talk about you."

"They never stop talking about you," Miles continues, trying to regain his composure. "They always say you have such a radiant personality and how much they miss you. They take care of your son, don’t worry. Hes safe for now.”

"What do you mean he's safe 'for now'?" you cut him off abruptly, your voice cold and hard. Miles gulps nervously before responding.

"Eh...we have until morning to find a solution for this...anomaly," he stammers. You interrupt him, seething with a fury that makes him cringe. "My son's name is Gabriel. He is not an 'anomaly'," you spit out the words like they are poison, hating the way they make your sweet little boy sound like some kind of mistake.

"Eh, yes, for Gabriel," Miles corrects hastily, "because, eh... if we don't find an alternative, they need to, eh...eliminate..." He trails off, speaking so quickly and softly that you almost don't catch his last word.

"ELIMINATE?????" You scream and for a split second, Miles is sure he sees your eyes blaze with a terrifying, luminating light.

"We can stop them. We can talk to them and say it's your son," Miles says quickly, desperately hoping to calm you.

"I don't talk. Bring me to my son," you demand. Without wasting another moment, you order him to open the portal. "Y-yes, right away, Sunn... eh, Mrs. Sun, eh... Ma'am," he stammers, visibly trembling under your steely gaze.

It takes him two shaky attempts before he manages to successfully open the portal, his hands still unsteady from the encounter.

Back at the headquarters, Peter chases after Miguel into his office. "Boss, all I'm saying is, what if Lyla is wrong?"

Miguel is pinching the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping his lips. The weight of the situation is quickly becoming too overwhelming and he feels himself teetering dangerously close to his breaking point.

Just at that moment, Gwen, Pav, Margo and Hobie burst into the office, their faces set withdetermination. "Miguel, there’s something you need to know. Please hear us out. Margo and I, we found something.Lyla is - ," Gwen starts but Miguel is quick to silence her with a raised hand.

Just as Miguel is about to speak, the lights flicker, casting an ominous glow throughout the room. Hobie looks around nervously. "Is that eh...normal?"

Peter quirks an eyebrow. "Did you forget to pay the electricity bill?"

The lights flicker even more violently, plunging the room into a dance of shadow and light.

With a violent burst, the door is flung open, and a brilliant surge of light blinds everyone. You stand in the doorway, an ethereal aura glowing around you.

"O'Hara!" Your voice thunders through the room, heavy with wrath and revenge. As Miguel turns around to face the source of the sound, a massive, lightning-tinged sonar blast slams directly into his chest. He's pushed backward, knocked off balance before he can brace himself for the attack. He tries to recoverr, to shift into defense mode but he doesn't get the chance. You're relentless, a solar goddess in human form, hurtling blast after blast at him. Miguel has no time to regain his stance, each attack landing with more force than the last.

Gwen makes to step forward, her instincts screaming at her to intervene, but Peter grabs her arm, pulling her back. "That's Sunny," he says, his voice a mixture of awe and concern. Hobie's eyes widen comically. He cocks his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Our Sunny, eh? Blimey, I never knew she had it in her. That rebellious firecracker," he mutters, a distinct note of admiration creeping into his typically laid-back British drawl.

Miles bursts into the room, breathless and disheveled. He stumbles towards Gwen, his voice hurried and concerned, "I tried to stop her, but she was...she was furious. Woahhh, I've never seen Miguel get beaten like this before."

And he wasn't exaggerating. Miguel was fighting back, his fangs bared, his claws out and ready but he was no match for your rage-fueled attacks. You were right up in his face, delivering punch after punch at a brutal pace

"Where's my son, O’Hara? What have you done to him?" you demand, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

At your words, Miguel's movements falter. His defense wavers, and he barely manages to gasp out, "Your son?" He doesn't dodge your next blow, doesn't attempt to shield himself or strike back. Instead, he allows you to continue.

Miguel is shocked. His reflexes kick in as he sees the next punch coming and he grabs your wrist, halting your next powerful punch aimed for his face. He locks eyes with you, his gaze holding an emotion you've never seen in him before. Is it fear? No, it's much deeper, more profound.

As he stares at you, your luminescent eyes gradually lose their fiery intensity, shifting back to their human form.

"I... I didn't know," Miguel stammers, his voice a trembling whisper. "Lo – lo siento. I – I didn’t know.”

His breaths are ragged, and you can see a war waging inside him.

"But...how?How didn’t I know?" His voice is choked, your wrist still securely in his grip. “Your son?” Miguel continues,his voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes search yours and all he sees is raw, untamed anger with an aching pain that pierces his soul.

“Yes, MY son!” your voice echoes through the room like a whip. “Did you think that you could just take him from me? That I wouldn't come for him?”

Miguel’s grip on your wrist loosens as he stumbles back. His heart feels like it’s about to explode as realization dawns on him. The dark curls, the small fangs the baby had bared at him –pieces of a puzzle start falling into place. His own blood runs cold.

“Where is he, Miguel? Where’s myGabriel?” your voice breaks as you say the name, and it feels like another punch to Miguel's gut.

“Gabr...” Miguel chokes. “No... no...”

His voice is barely audible, the air knocked out of him by the significance of the name. His knees buckle, and he falls on the floor. "NO."

“You, who I thought would protect any child, wanted to eliminate my – our – flesh and blood!” Tears, full of anger and hurt, stream down your face, but your voice doesn't waver one bit.

Miguel, still on the floor, looks up at you with tear-streaked cheeks. “I didn’t know. I swear on my life, on Gabriella’s memory. I-I wanted to do the right thing. I- I never, -Lo siento.”

There’s a moment of tense silence as you look down at the shattered man before you,the love of your life, the father of your child, who almost made the most horrifying, unforgivable mistake.

Just then, from another room, the faint sound of a baby's cries pierce through the heavy atmosphere. You abruptly yank your wrist out of his grasp and towards the door to leave.

Your heart clenches as you break into a run, following the pitiful cries. You don’t look back.

Miguel remains on his knees. He doenst follow you, he doesn’t dare to move, anchored by the crushing weight of what he's done, as the sounds of Gabriel's cries fade into the background.

"Gabriel," he whispers, the name escaping his lips like a vow. A promise of redemption. And with that single word, Miguel knows he'll move heaven and earth to protect his child.

Part 4 "Webs of Redemption"

Hello, you wonderful souls! I want to say a big thank you for your patience and kind words about this series. I really appreciate each of your sweet comments and messages – they mean so much to me. Thank you all for the insightful ideas and suggestions you contributed for part 3. I've incorporated as many of your concepts as I could because they're simply brilliant. I'm eager to hear more of your thoughts, criticisms, and proposals for part 4. I also want to give a special thanks to Jess, @wolfjessedragon . Her inspiration and amazing ideas were the driving force behind Part 3, and I couldn't have written it without her! love you guys, keep being awesome!

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improbable-outset · 8 months

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𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲

Word vomit as usual.

He had no idea how he ended up like this. One minute he was watching over the multiverse through the monitors, all while making sure the anomalies were kept out of the way.

Now he was watching a holographic video you’ve sent him. The video was angled above you while you were lying on the mattress with a dildo you were holding between your opened legs.

His gaze was fixated on the dildo that was coated in lube and pushed into your swollen cunt, forcing a stifled whine to slip out from your lips. Once it was fully in you started thrusting, each thrust being faster than the last.

Your moans from the hologram echoed in the room, driving Miguel up the fucking wall. He found himself bucking his hip out of habit as he continued to watch you fuck the dildo in your cunt.

Every pulse in his body was throbbing, mostly around his cock. He glanced down.

Fuck chiquita, what have you done to me?

One hand reached down to clasp around his length, thumb swiping off the pre-cum that was leaking out.

He replayed the video from the start, this time he matched the rhythm of his hands around his hardened cock to the dildo you were using inside you, chewing on his lower lip to suppress himself from being too loud.

The last thing he wanted was one of the Spider People catching him like this or seeing your hologram in this state. It was for him and only him.

He imagined his hands were your walls squeezing around him in all the right places. He knew he could reach deeper than the dildo you were using and he took pride in that.

One of these days, he’ll take you and make you forget about ever using that dildo, you’d be feeling him for weeks. You increased your pace and he matched his own with yours, feeling his peak crawling up to him.

He imagined your moans were from his movement. He might even get you to beg for it, just to tease you a little. Hearing you cry out desperately made him finally tip over the edge.

His legs shook as his cock spilled his release all over his hand. That was another mess to deal with now.

I might extend this if it ends well 👀

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #spiderverse x reader #miguel o’hara spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel smut #♦︎— spicy #★— ayrus writes

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uselesssomebody · 10 months

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Oooooo wondering if I request a miguel o'hara x platonic(maybe) shy reader who’s a popular superhero spider person who bonded with venom and has an infant son who’s a mommy boy with her boyfriend Miguel of her dimension. Miguel sees the reader reminded of his dead wife reader of his dimension. Pretty cute her infant son and Mayday Parker having play dates, she’s the godmother of Mayday and Peter is the godfather 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

'𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕜𝕚𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜' 𝕕𝕒𝕪 - dad!miguel o'hara x mom!reader

(or astv's spider society x platonic!reader)

complete masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist

words || 𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader and peter b. have a 'bring your kid to work' day at the spider society

a/n || i have been frothing at the mouth to write dad!miguel so here

➵ anon i'm actually kneeling at your feet for this request; it's so *chef's kiss* unfortunately, i know 0 things about venom, and i forgot about the 'shy' aspect of reader, but otherwise, i tried to nail this request. if you want a shy reader x miguel specifically, just send me another req, and i will have it done.

➵ lemme talk about the spanish real quick: a lot of it in this one thanks to the lovely @spookyanamurdock. quite a bit of spanglish as well, translations are next to the spanish bits

➵ also miguel (both of him) is the only one to speak any spanish. reader is not coded as being able to speak spanish or necessarily being from a spanish-speaking country, but she can understand what miguel is saying.

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff

it'd been nine months since she'd had a full night's rest.

guess how old her infant was.

she was jolted awake to the sound of wails and cries and she quickly rubs her hands over her face as she sits up. she looks behind her to see her husband roll in his sleep at the sound, and she smiles, getting up more quickly so that she can handle their child before he wakes up.

she steps into the next room, where their son is rocking in his cradle, evidently upset. she pouts a little at the sight of his chubby cheeks pinched into a scowl, and his gummy mouth open and ignorant to how loud he was being.

"what's woken you up, baby?" she mumbles, quiet and rhetoric, as she immediately takes him in her arms, rocking him softly on one side while using her free arm to gently pat for where he was feeling discomfort. noticing none, and recognizing his cry wasn't that of hunger, she lifts him up gently, looking in his adorable, curious eyes.

she notices his cries have simmered, a more satisfied and sleepy expression on his features, and she smiles, "did you just want mama to hold you for a bit?" she muses, as she lovingly tucks his head back into her shoulder, quietly pacing the room with him. in another couple moments, he's out like a light once more, and she chuckles to herself as she lays him back down in his cradle, momentarily forgetting her annoyance at losing sleep as she traces a soft finger over his features, beaming at his adorableness, "goodnight, gabe." she murmurs softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead, before she slips back out of the room, and into her bedroom. the clock by her bed reads 3:07, and she sighs, her exhaustion overtaking her once more. she smiles at the sight of her husband, still knocked out in the same position. she lays back down next to him, wrapping her arms tightly around him, as she revels in his large stature and radiating heat, falling asleep next to him almost immediately.

she was a little shocked when she'd gotten a call in for work the next morning. well 'work' is a better way of putting it, as you can't exactly put 'multiverse-hopping for the spider society' on a resume.

she'd worked with the gajillion other spiders in nueva york for a little over 3 years before she'd had to take maternity leave for the little baby she was currently heating up a bottle of milk for. on the other side of the kitchen, her husband was allowing gabe to sit on his shoulders and play with his hair as he tried to clean dishes, and she suppresses a laugh at the sight, plucking gabe off his shoulders. "enough of that, baby." she muses, "you'll mess up daddy's hair," she sets him into his high chair, gently sticking the bottle in his mouth, as her husband comes and sits next to her. she gently runs her hand through his hair, straightening it out where gabe messed it up.

"miguel?" she starts, and he nods, his eyes looking up at hers, "i've gotta go in today." he furrows his brow a little, before realizing what she was talking about.

"¿cuándo regresarías?” (when’ll you be back?) he mumbles, still a little sleepy from the hectic morning. she shakes her head.

"no clue yet. think we can get a sitter for him?" she cocks her head to gabe, who was happily enjoying his bottle himself. miguel sighs, rubbing his eyes a little.

"no creo, cariño" (i don't think so, sweetheart.) he looked stressed, and she looked at him sympathetically, so she shakes her head.

"that's okay, hun." she rubs his knuckles a little, "i'll just take him with me." miguel's eyes widen in worry, and she chuckles.

"it's just a consultation, don't worry." she smiles, "we'll not move an inch from the headquarters." his shoulders relax a little, and a smile finally falls over his tired face.

"uhm, claro. si, suena bien, sure." (right. yeah, that sounds good, sure.) he pauses for a moment, "uh, will the big guy be okay with it?" she looks at him confused, before she bursts out in laughter, making gabe jump a little, dropping his bottle. she winces a little, picking it up for him and mumbling a quick 'sorry'

"are you talking about other-miguel?" she teases, and he groans with a smile.

other-miguel was her boss, the person in charge of the spider society. it'd been an... experience when she'd first met him.

originally, her recruitment was overseen by spiderwoman - jessica, her lovely friend who she was now coaching through her own pregnancy. because jessica brought her in, she'd not actually met other-miguel until nearly 2 months in.

the first time she'd seen him had been when jessica was at home - or her home universe - and she'd instead had to discuss her next mission with him. she'd gone up to his office, ready with a quip about how he had the same name as her long-term boyfriend - but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw her boyfriend's back in front of her. her eyes widen, and her greeting catches in her throat. other-miguel looks back at her, and he's got a similarly surprised look in his eyes.

"¿cariño?" (sweetheart?) he asks in his familiar, gruff voice. it was tinged in slightly more exhaustion.

"hon - honey?" she stutters out, finally able to clear her throat enough to talk, "what are you doing here?" he blinks in shock, before he sighs deeply, realizing what had happened.

"no - no, no soy…" (i'm not) he inhales, "you're seeing a miguel o'hara?" she blinks.

"honey, what are you-"

"no-" he cuts her off, "i'm not your miguel." her eyes narrow, before it dawns on her.

in the entirety of the spider society, there were countless versions of 'peter parker', a handful of 'miles morales's, and more than a few 'gwen stacy's and plenty of 'm.j.'s. it would be, in fact, more shocking that there wasn't more than one miguel o'hara in the multiverse.

"oh." she mumbles, "oh." a beat passes, "do you - you know someone like me too?"

his face is downcast. it's a touchy subject.

"si. así es." (yeah. that’s right.) there's a silence that passes over them, before his face becomes stern again, and he begins explaining the mission.

it took 3 more missions for other-miguel to open up about the woman she reminded him off, and she, in turn, would point out the differences between him and her boyfriend. they had a strange bond, something that was difficult to properly explain to anyone else, but they felt no obligation to.

she knows miguel found it hard to be around her at first. every time he'd look at her, his face would flash in a pain that she only came to know about later, and one she hoped to never understand. similarly, it made her feel weird to be seeing and hearing her boyfriend, yet having to adamantly remember that it wasn't him. it became better after a while, as it was easier to notice the differences between her miguel and other-miguel.

now, she was good friends with him - at least, as friendly as anyone could be with him.

"yeah, he won't mind," she continues, talking to her boyfriend, "besides, peter brings his little one in constantly. it'll be fine." she smiles, and her husband seems to calm a little.

"perfecto." he rises slowly, pressing a kiss to gabe's forehead, and then her lips, "¿te vere ésta noche?" (i'll see you tonight?) she nods with a small smile.

"yeah, honey." she waves him off as he heads to work, before she picks up gabe, "you ready for some misadventure, baby?" she teases, pressing a kiss to his nose. he coos in response, and she takes it as a yes, pulling out her watch.

after a couple minutes, a multicolored portal opens in her kitchen, and jessica walks in, waddling a little with the large weight in her stomach. she grins wide at the sight of the mother and son, cooing at the adorable child.

"i haven't seen you in ages!" jessica drawls, taking her into a hug, before plucking gabe up, and playing with his little baby hands, "have you grown, gabe? you're so big now!" he giggles in response, as though he's taken the compliment, and jessica laughs, handing him back to his mother.

"how've you been, jess? how's the tummy?" she asks, rocking gabe slowly. jess rubs her stomach, pouting a little.

"they're kickin' and screamin' to get out." they both laugh at the comment, before jessica pulls out a small, baby-sized watch, a visitor pass for baby gabe, "here." she slips it over his small wrist, "don't want you glitching out, do we?" jessica steps back, before looking back at her, "ready?"

she nods, clutching gabe a bit tighter.

"baby's first." jessica jokes, leading her forward. she adjusts gabe on her hip and the watch on my wrist, stepping in. gabe coos in interest at the colors of the portal, and he has to blink a few times when he realizes that the actual h.q. is significantly *less* interesting. he fidgets a little, brows furrowing in confusion, which causes her to soothe him with a hand running along his back.

"it's okay, baby." she whispers in his ear, glancing around at the familiar building and familiar spider-people milling about. a couple of them nod or wave in recognition, and she greets a few, before jessica pulls her along.

"c'mon, miguel and peter b. need us." she nods at jess's statement, tucking gabe's head in her shoulder and following the woman up to miguel's office.

as soon as they walk in, she see miguel and peter, stood on his suspended platform, look back at them, and 4 youngins on the floor look back too. they're a diverse group, teenagers and just older, and of course, she knew hobie and pav. immediately, the two of them come up to greet her, excited to see her after so long.

"you're back?" pav says excitably, and she laughs.

"no - no, not yet, sorry, guys." she clarifies, and gabe's head pops up at the noise. pav and hobie's eyes widen.

"you've go' a kid now?" hobie's accent, strong as ever, shines through. she rolls her eyes playfully.

"why'd you think i left? for fun?" peter's come down to join them at this point, and he engulfs her in a side hug, before taking gabe off her.

"and how is my little godson doing?" he coos, playing with the baby. she smiles at the interaction, before looking around him.

"where's my goddaughter, pete?" she asks curiously, wondering where may's head of vibrant red is. peter cocks his head in miguel's direction, making her look back up to see the infant crawling around on his giant, familiar shoulders. she laughs, and miguel finally comes down to join them. she sees the other two teenagers' faces scrunch in confusion, and it's suddenly evident to her that they're newbies, and they don't yet know that miguel's slow descent is nothing but a fear tactic and, more often than not, he'd use the faster setting to get to the floor in seconds. he comes up to her, a gruff expression on his face, and the teenagers' seem concerned. until, he dons the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. he nods his head in greeting, and she salutes him, and small grin on her face, as may practically slides down from his arm and into her chest, making her catch the baby with an exaggerated stumble and 'oomph!', "aw, you've grown, haven't you, may-be?" she smiles, having given her goddaughter an adjacent nickname to her own child, "what trouble have you been getting into?"

meanwhile, pav and hobie - uncharacteristically - were cooing over gabe in pete's arms. i turn to the teenagers, and jessica introduces me.

"gwen, and miles - visitor." jess clarifies, pointing at both respectively.

"nice to meet you guys." she nods back, looking between them and may, trying to crawl on her shoulders.

after a couple more moments of catch-up, miguel and pete pulled her up to the panel, along with may and gabe, and jessica pulls the other 4 out. miguel begins explaining the reasoning for the call-in.

"so, these 4 are being assigned to an anomaly. the girl's only been here a month - this is her first real mission - and the guy's here to prove himself." she quirks a brow.

"so he's been here less than a month and he's already on a mission?" it's not common - even she'd had to dredge through a month and a half of training sessions and simulations before going on her first mission - and even that was with jessica. miguel shrugs in response to her question, and peter interrupts.

"i vouch for him. he's a - he's a good kid. mentored him myself. we stopped a multiversal collapse together before." he says casually, so casually that she can't help but giggle. it'd been a year since she'd heard about things like 'multiversal collapses', and she still wasn't used to it.

"okay, where do i come in?" she asks, pulling gabe off of a monitor he wanted to play with.

"you can sit right here and just guide them. peter también va a estar aquí, solo, guialos ¿está bien?" (peter's gonna be here too. just... coach them, you know?) miguel explains, and she nods.

"right... sure. yeah, that works." peter smiles, and miguel points to a monitor.

"your station, m'lady." peter jokes, making her laugh. she sits down, gabe on her lap, slipping an earpiece in her ear and beginning to read the data file on the anomaly the 4 were looking to contain. after a couple minutes, she hears the crackle of a girl's voice - gwen - through the ear piece.

"hey! we've just arrived in the universe." she nods at the confirmation.

"perfect. you guys ready?"

the mission was relatively quick to finish, and she had celebrated with peter once hobie's voice had crackled through, saying the anomaly was captured. he stayed behind to monitor it while the three teens headed back, and she sighed in relief, finally picking gabe up from his place crawling on the floor with may.

while her and peter were tensely trying to ensure the kids were safe and everything went to plan, the two infants had been having the time of their life playing with each other. gabe would find it tremendously entertaining whenever may would begin climbing on walls, and he had tried a few times too, only getting as far as a meter up before his mother pulled him off out of her worry. nonetheless, he absolutely was determined to climb onto a monitor, which resulted in a slight hassle when peter lost audio for a moment.

by the time the mission was over and gabe was back in his mother's arms, he was out like a light, exhausted by his long day in the spider society.

after miles, pav and gwen had made it back, peter was sure celebrations would be in order, something that miguel seemed to be staunchly against, and something she had to reluctantly decline.

"sorry, guys, i should get back home. the little guy's already sleepy, and miguel should be back home by now." the sentence confused gwen and miles, as they looked between her and the intimidating boss of the spider society. she smiles at their confusion, but opts to let jessica explain, as she says her goodbyes and heads out. may, distraught at the thought of not being able to play with gabe anymore, makes a daring attempt to escape with him and his mom, only foiled at the last moment because of an attentive miguel. she smiles at the sight, petting her hair and letting may wave one final time at gabe's sleeping form - moving his hand to mimic a wave back - before heading to the portals.

when she tries to hand back gabe's visitor's pass to jessica, it's fruitless, as the other woman insists she keeps it, a certain knowing look in her eyes. she tries to ignore it, smiling in thanks, as the two head back.

correct to her belief, miguel - her miguel - was changing out of his work attire when they arrived and, upon hearing his greeting to her, gabe's eyes shoot open, excited at the thought of seeing his dad after the long day apart. it makes her laugh, and she sets the infant down on the couch to take off his wristband.

"¿qué tal todo?" (how was it?) comes miguel's - maybe perpetually - sleepy voice from behind her as she fiddles with the closing mechanism of the band.

"good. gabe tried climbing on a few walls, met his godsister - if that's a thing - met other-miguel and his godfather. got to meet the kids too." she lists off quickly, taking off the band and placing it to the side, not realizing that miguel is right behind her now.

he wraps his large arms around her, warmth encircling her body as she squeak in slight shock, making gabe laugh.

"and how was it for you, mi amor?" (my love) he asks, pressing a kiss to her cheek, making her smile.

"well, we saved the day. so it was very good." miguel nods, not letting her go.

"muy bien, muy bien," (good, good.) he whispers, seemingly now less interested in the answer to his question and more interested in the fact that he could hold her after his grueling day.

as soon as the hug lasts a little too long, though, they hear an indignant whine of disapproval, making them both laugh after a moment of shock. miguel detaches from her, and she reaches down to sit with gabe, before pulling him into her lap. his face immediately breaks into a smile, and miguel settles next to them.

"¿qué pasa, bebé? (what is this, baby?) you won't let me hug your mom anymore?" he says in playful upset. gabe frowns at his words, settling farther in his mom's arms.

"i think he's a little jealous." she teases, running her hands through gabe's thin head of hair.

"¡increible! (unbelievable!) i knew her first, amigo." the joking annoyance makes her laugh, as she places a big kiss to gabe's cheek and then to miguel.

"boys, boys. there's enough love for me to share." as if hearing her, gabe whines in annoyance again, making her and miguel look at each other with wide eyes.

"o - okay, it's all for you, gabe." she reassures, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. she looks up at miguel. "please don't start whining, now." she teases. he laughs quietly.

"no te prometo nada." (no promises.)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #dad!miguel o'hara #mom!reader #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #'bring your kid to work' day #oscar isaac

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spdrslayr · 11 months

Text

004. atsv headcanons ! ★ post collider jonathon ohnn x reader…

! pt. 1 - pre collider hcs. ⁀➷ srcs... masterlist .rules. intro .

| synopsis, ୨♡୧ a little glimpse into your relationship with the spot.

★ tags -> gender neutral reader; johnathon ohnn; the spot; fluff; etc...

★ warnings -> cursing; johnathon being a meanie; mentions of trauma & abandonment

★ w.c -> 1,028

| xox, mei! ୨♡୧ -> i'm sorry these are so much shorter than p1.! tbh i had some trouble making these post-collider headcanons - so i might make a third part with more depth :] for now i hope this is okay!!

you’re everything to him. before the accident, he wasn’t too open about his feelings. anything about his stressful home life as a child and his insecurity paled in comparison to his work, and you. but once everyone else abandoned him after the accident, he found himself lost in you. you saved him at a time when he wanted nothing more than to disappear, bringing him back to the real world with your love and affection.

at first, he really doesn’t like talking about the accident. but it doesn’t take long for him to fall apart before you, trembling and crying as he vents. late in the night, you’ll soothe him, holding him close while he cries into the crook of your neck.

johnathon’s still awkward, but he’s cockier. in spite of all the tragedy, he feels so powerful now. his initial appearance aside, johnny’s more confident now that he can literally control the entire multiverse. it makes him feel worthy of your love in a way that wasn’t present before he became the spot.

he’ll say flirty things out loud that he wouldn’t dare tell you in the past, being more forward and upfront about his attraction towards you.

johnathon’s mischievous ass got the best powers to fuck around with. he’ll pop out of nowhere to scare the shit out of you and it sends him into a fit of giggles.

johnathon’s far more protective of you now. before the accident, he’d worry about you, but trusted that you were strong enough to fend for yourself. now? anything’s possible. it doesn’t matter if he trusts you when doesn’t trust anyone else. he likes knowing where you are and when you’ll be back home. he loathes the thought of anyone taking you away from him, especially spider-man.

sometimes he’ll go out with you. nyc is dangerous so he’ll be by your side, looming in a horrible disguise with well-meaning intentions. he just wants to keep you safe.

he loves annoying you with his spot and hole puns. being with someone who accepts him really helped in regards to finding the good in his new powers.

“holy moly!”

“that’s a whole lotta trouble.”

you got him a kitty cat. johnny doesn’t really work anymore, so a lot of times he’s stuck at home alone. he tries so hard not to seem clingy but he can’t help but mope whenever you leave. when you first got cow, johnathon was a little insulted.

“i’m a super villain! I don’t need a cat!”

they became best friends within the span of 24 hours.

#atsv #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #johnathon ohnn #johnathon ohnn x reader #the spot #the spot x reader #jonathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn x reader #johnathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

omfg imagine fairy reader getting off rubbing on Aaron’s finger or idk something bc she’s so tiny

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Damn Aaron for being so attentive. You know that's his job, he's told you before that he has to stay vigilant, that he notices little things because it could save his life one day, but all it's done today is embarrass you. You'd been trying to muffle your moans with one of his t-shirts, buried in the fabric in the drawer he'd set up for you, but it wasn't working.

"Y/N?" He calls, and your eyes blow wide open from where you're nestled in his dresser drawer, "Hey, where are you? Are you alright?"

You don't answer at first, barely breathing to keep silent. But he doesn't let up, and you can hear his footsteps trekking to the bed, "Y/N? What's going on, sweetheart? Can you hear me?"

The next time he says your name it's louder, like he'd assumed the answer to his last question was no. You feel guilty about the concern in his voice, mouth dry as you finally respond, "I'm okay, Aaron."

You hear him freeze, then he realizes you're in the drawer and he's on it in seconds. Light spills into the previously dark space, and you make sure that all he can see is your head popping out from the fabric of his shirt.

"Hi," You smile sheepishly, face on fire as the one below your belly begs for attention. You definitely look strange, wide-eyed and half-buried in a shirt, but you don't think Aaron's figured out why yet.

"Hi," He hums, a neutral frown tight on his face. He's studying you, you realize, and you try to loosen up.

"I was trying to get a nap in," You explain, "I figured your bed would be too big for me all alone."

"I see," Aaron nods, "And you were... having a nightmare?"

"What?"

"You were crying," Aaron reminds you, "Or- or whining, or groaning, or-"

"I wasn't-" You rush to stop him, and something twitches in his left eye. His mouth hangs open with the hint of his next word but it never comes, and he nods slowly, just once.

"Oh."

"Aaron, I-" You wish you could sit up, flutter over to his face and make up some scattered excuse as to what was really happening, but if you do, he'll see your very naked form, "Not, like- I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." He assures you, already making to close the drawer again, "I'll... leave you to it."

"No!" You rush to catch his hand, current state of dress forgotten, and when you catch his finger, the shirt falls off of you. There you stand- er, hover, thighs pressed together and chest on display.

"Don't go," You beg, and Aaron freezes up. He can't shut the drawer anymore, not unless he wants to squish you, and you've got a good grip on his finger.

"It's okay," He hums, worried you'll think he's judging you, "Really, everyone- uh, everyone does it. I just didn't think about it before I came in. But it's okay, I promise. I'm not upset or anything like that."

"No," You whimper, clutching tighter still at his hand, "I'm- I need, uh, help."

You're clutching so tight to Aaron's finger that you can feel it tense up.

"Help," He repeats cautiously, and you nod, nervous tears pricking at your eyes.

"I- I just," You stammer, heartbeat so loud it's in your ears, "I can't.. finish. And I don't know what to do, and I thought that if you helped me-"

"I shouldn't," Aaron hums sympathetically, "I- I don't want you to get attached to me like that. Not because I helped you."

"That's not why I want your help," You promise, wings fluttering to give you a little more air in the drawer. You hover straight onto his palm, using most of your willpower not to jump him right then and there, "I like you, Aaron. And I'd like you even if you hadn't helped me. We wouldn't have met," You realize, "But- but that's not the point! The point is, I need help, and I want it from you."

He takes a moment to consider, then his thumb curves up from where it had been flat beside the rest of his fingers to brush over your outstretched calves. Your breath hitches at the gentle touch he administers, and he keeps a close watch on your reaction.

"Are you sure?" He asks, and you've never nodded more vigorously.

"I'm sure," You scramble to your knees as Aaron curls his pointer finger in towards you. You appreciate the fact that he keeps his nails trimmed well, and he watches with a tight chest as you flip yourself onto your back. You lay with your head against his wrist, hands gripping his bent thumb for stability. It means that his pointer finger, when curled just right, brushes over your leaking slit, and you jolt in his palm.

"You okay?" He pauses, but you nod, "Yes! Yes, I'm okay, I'm- Aaron, please, keep going."

"Okay," He hums, experimentally pushing his finger against your slit. You're already slicked open from your previous activities, so he doesn't have trouble wetting the tip of his finger, but the stretch of his pointer finger is tantalizingly blissful as you writhe in his palm.

"Aaron, I need-" You pant, gripping his thumb like a lifeline, "I need more! More, please!"

"Shh," He soothes, rubbing his thumb down your side as he pushes his thumb further into your cunt, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take care of you."

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kairiscorner · 8 months

Note

hello luv, thank u so much for ur content <33 do you think you could do a comfort oneshot? just reader being overwhelmed and having a worried Miguel to take over them, its been tough lately :/

tysm for everything and a lots of luv ^-^

BDIREBCIURBIIUBVIUBIV THANK YOU DEARRRRRR aww, i hope everything's going okay now though! i hope you like this too, btw <33

the best thing that's ever happened to me. – miguel o'hara x gn!reader (comfort fic)

it was like a storm was raging in your mind, turning your train of thought over and throwing yourself into the abyss of overwhelming thoughts and the what-ifs that you believe were to happen, were gonna happen no matter what you did; because the multiverse... follows a linear path, your actions are futile against the great force that pulls and pushes everything into action, right? you didn't even realize it, but a few tears stained your shirt as you shakily took a breath in and out, snapping you back to reality as you finally felt the warmth of the tears you were shedding fall down on your chest and lap like it's raining on you. you tried wiping the tears away, hoping the hot tears would quit falling as you sniffled and muttered to yourself–begging, pleading to yourself that the crying would end soon... but it got worse the longer you forced yourself to stop.

you got angry, angry at your tears, angry at how loud everything seemed when all that filled the room was silence—you were angry at yourself for feeling this way, not even knowing why you were feeling this way. you muttered to yourself to stop it, stop it, stop crying—but that made your tears flow even more as you felt your chest tighten and get heavier. you sighed all shakily and gave in to the emotions you were feeling at that moment, a whirlwind of feelings hitting you all at once, and making you disoriented and confused about everything. you didn't wanna face it, you didn't want to dig any deeper, and much less concern someone with how you felt—but of course, your feelings can never be ignored by the one person who sees beyond that exterior of yours...

"oh, cariño, what... happened?" miguel asked you gently as he walked over to you, crouching down to your level and looking at you with nothing but concern and worry filling his eyes. his gaze was soft and endearing, he didn't look menacing nor intimidating at that moment—he'd dread for you to see him that way, especially seeing you so vulnerable and sobbing all over yourself and sniffling back your tears. he gently approached you all slowly, not wanting to startle you and make you even more scared or sad or whatever it is you were feeling. you sniffled and tried telling miguel how you felt, but no words came out of your mouth—only choked sobs of an indescribable feeling escaped your throat as you began to cry again. "i'm tired, miguel... so tired... i don't—i don't even know why i'm crying, why am i... fuck, i'm a mess... this is embarassing..." you sobbed out as miguel shushed you and gently wrapped his arms around you, practically cradling you in his big, muscular arms as a means to soothe you.

"love... i don't know what's wrong, but... if you feel like crying, go for it. if you don't feel like talking, you don't need to. i'm always, always, gonna be here for you, okay?" he whispered to you as you choked on your sobs again and leaned against him as you kept crying. you expressed to miguel how everything felt like it was crashing down on you, how nothing you did alleviated the pains and worries you were experiencing, and you—for a moment—doubted your own abilities and asked yourself just what were you good for? miguel sighed gently and brushed your stray hairs away from your face and looked at you with the softest eyes. he pressed his lips against the lower parts of your eyes and kissed your tears away; he muttered to you how perfect you already are to him, that what you're worrying about... to him, at least, isn't true. "you're so amazing, mi vida, you never... never fail to make me so, so proud of you. if i could just give you my eyes, for you to see what i see in you, i would do in a heartbeat. it hurts me so much that... you have no idea how wonderful you are, mi amor." he whispered to you in between kissing your tears away.

it may not have been the ultimate solution to your anxiety and overthinking, and it may not have taken away all your overwhelming feelings about the uncertain future—but miguel didn't ever want you to tread through these rocky paths alone, he wanted your hand in his as he walks alongside you and takes on every challenge that comes your way with you, and be with you for both the good and the bad times, because he loves you too much to bear, he can't not be with you. no matter what happens or where you'll go, he'll be with you as much as he can, and make a peaceful forever with you; he'll make every loving moment between you last longer than a second, and make you feel like a happy, blissful eternity with him can be real, and he'll do everything in his power to comfort you and help you walk every step of the way to that eternity.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

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albertdabuttler · 9 months

Text

Another Nightmare? | M.O.

MASTERLIST

fandom: Marvel

pairings: Miguel O’Hara x Latina!F!Reader

WARNINGS: Just imagine yourself as a puerto rican ig because we come in all colors ;) kissing, smut :3 boobie touching LOL, biting, blood consumption cuz im insane :D, oral (f), fingering, size kink (?) p in v, breeding kink ig, his talons clawing into you xx, cockwarming… miguel isn’t an unrealistically animalistic airhead in this (ahem like most fics i read ahem) BUT he’s still rough in a gentle way and in control obvi ;^ i think that’s it 🤨 oh and i proofread this like once lmao READER IS A SPIDER-PERSON BTW

summary: Miguel had a dream about you.

WC: 3.1k

gif not mine, enjoy losers!

———————

You woke up to the sound of the bedroom door opening, watching as Miguel walked through it. Turning over and checking the time, you realized it was almost two in the morning and you wondered what had woken Miguel up this late.

As you walked down the hall to the kitchen, you saw Miguel standing before the fridge, inspecting it’s contents.

“Migs, you alright?” You questioned, moving closer to him. He instinctively twitched and you knew something had to be wrong if he didn’t want you near him.

“I’m fine.” He spoke quietly, keeping his gaze somewhere in the fridge before he took the bottle of passion fruit juice you had sitting in there.

“Qué pasó?” You frowned. “Did…Did you have another nightmare…?”

“No…” He sighed. “Just can’t sleep.” He opened the bottle and took a gulp straight from it before bringing it back down and putting it away.

“I see…” You chewed the inside of your cheek nervously, turning back around to go back to bed. “I’ll… See you tomorrow.” Walking back to your room, you thought this might be a night where he’d sleep on the couch again, depriving you of his warm touch. You hated those nights and although you’d never gotten intimate with Miguel, you couldn’t help but feel hollow. His presence and weight on the mattress was the only thing helping you drift off.

“Hey…” He called out to you softly as you pushed the door of your room open.

“Hm?” You looked back at him, unable to hide your frown.

“It’s not about you…” He adverted his eyes to the side before bringing a hand up to cover his face. “Well…” He couldn’t help but chuckle from embarrassment. “It is about you…”

Miguel peeked at you through his fingers, “I’m just…” He sighed heavily.

Turning your body to face him, you scanned him for no reason in particular. Your eyes landed on his again with a look of concern before you did a double take and glanced at his crotch, noticing a subtle bulge. You couldn’t help the blood rush making it’s way to your face.

He noticed this and dragged both hands down his face before running them through his hair with a sigh.

“I had a dream about you. About us…” he looked elsewhere again.

Swallowing hard, you felt jittery all of a sudden. “What happened…?” You couldn’t help but bite back a smile.

“We…” He scoffed at himself. “I…” he hid a smile too. “We bred.” That was the best and simplest way to describe it.

You looked at him confused for a moment before processing what he said.

“We got married… We had kids… Then we wanted more.” He looked up at you, his lopsided smile more prominent.

It wasn’t that you guys weren’t ready to do any of that, trust him. He was just as ready as you were. But he didn’t have time. Neither of you did. You were back in your dimension being the Spider-Girl you were supposed to be, and he was everywhere else, keeping the multiverse from falling apart. You both thought of the risks of being together, until you realized it was nearly harmless. As long as what you did with him as your boyfriend didn’t get in the way of canon events, it would be alright. Because for fuck’s sake, he had thousands of other spider-people in his universe for crying out loud.

Miguel walked over to you. “You were amazing. So beautiful...” He smiled tiredly, reaching to place a hand on your cheek as he kissed the other.

“So sweet…” Moving his hand down to the side of your neck, he placed another kiss on that side of your face before bringing his lips just below your ear. He planted a lingering kiss there before he whispered in a husky voice.

“So flexible.” He moved his face away, smiling and keeping his gaze on your lips. “I need you.” He whispered. “I’ve needed you for so long…” He chuckled again. “Can’t even sleep because of it.”

You licked your lips, keeping your eyes on his. “Me too…”

His gaze moved to your eyes, pleading silently. “Can we…?” You knew what he was referring to. Not a second went by before you nodded, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him into the bedroom.

“Ay,” he chuckled at your excitement, allowing himself be dragged by you. Letting yourself fall backwards onto the mattress, you pulled him down with you, catching his lips in a kiss. He sighed into it, resting his elbow beside your head as his other hand moved down to squeeze your waist.

“Miguel…” You kept your eyes on his lips, dragging a hand down his chest as you pulled at the hem.

“Qué necesitas, mi amor, hmm? Tell me.” He breathed, allowing you to pull his shirt off over his head.

Releasing a low moan at the sight of his bare chest, he giggled at the sound, diving in to kiss your neck and dragging his hand up and down your thigh.

“Tell me.” He spoke again.

“You. I need you…” You spoke just above a whisper, digging your nails into his shoulder at the lack of satisfaction.

He chuckled. “Be more specific.” He slipped his tongue out and dragged it across your jugular, threatening to bite but holding back so not to hurt you.

“Fuck… Just—make me feel good…” You paused, thinking about what he told you of his dream. Leaning your head a bit, you whispered into his ear. “Breed me.”

Miguel chuckled, nuzzling his face into your neck as he blushed. “…Don’t tease…” He questioned if you were poking fun at him or not. He pulled back to look at you once more. His eyes scanned your features and he knew you were serious. Your face told him everything.

He glanced at your lips again before moving down and kissing you desperately, a low groan coming from him. It was now that you began to feel his hard-on against your thigh. He began grinding slowly as his mouth pried yours open, slipping his tongue past your lips. You let out a quiet moan and moved a hand to the back of his head, guiding his mouth against yours. His tongue overpowered yours with no effort, pulling away just barely enough to tug at your bottom lip with his teeth. He let go as it smacked back into place, making his breath shake.

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he lowered himself again, kissing your throat and dragging his tongue down to your collar bone.

“Take this off.” He spoke softly but you knew he wasn’t asking. You quickly pulled up your shirt, slipping it over and off your head as he stared down at you, admiring your bare body for the first time.

A long enough moment passed and you began feeling insecure, moving your arms across your chest and looking to the side.

“Say something…” you requested, feeling embarrassed. You thought he might not like it, maybe he didn’t like the shape of your torso? Maybe he didn’t think it fit your face…?

He blinked. “Mi amor…” He placed a hand on your arms. Miguel took his bottom lip into his mouth, biting it subconsciously. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You chuckled with a muddled expression. “I am?”

He only whined, “Let me look at you.” He spoke, softly tugging at your arms and you reluctantly pulled them away, leaving you exposed. He traced every inch of you with his hand before he brought it to your breast, gently kneading it in his hand as he watched the soft flesh move under his fingers.

“So pretty.” He sighed, lowering his head to the other one, keeping his eyes on your face as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it cautiously.

“Miguel,” you moaned his name softly, making him perk up at the way it sounded.

“Yes?” He smiled cheekily as he kissed the side of your breast, leaving a hickey.

You couldn’t get the words out and only sighed, looking at him with a pleading expression.

“Por supuesto.” He smiled, kissing down your ribs and below your belly, stopping at the hem of your pajama shorts. He hooked a finger onto it, pulling it down along with your panties, wanting to get it all off at once.

His hands gripped at the outer sides of your thighs, holding them apart. He licked your thigh before kissing it gently, smirking at your reactions.

His fangs poked out and he pulled away, confused at his lack of control with them all of a sudden. You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “What happened?”

“Nothing…” He tried retracting them but it was of no use.

You noticed this and bit your lip. “Bite me.”

“What?” He looked up at you.

“Bite me, Miggy…”

He hesitated for a moment before smiling, dragging the two sharp teeth across the skin of your legs. “You sure?” He needed reassurance.

Nodding vigorously, he planted another kiss. His fangs poked lightly at your skin, almost tickling you until he bit down harshly, sinking his teeth into your thigh.

You let out a groan at the pain, bringing your legs together but he held them apart. He pulled his teeth out and sucked the blood left behind, lapping at the flow of the red liquid. He began kissing closer and closer to your lips, teasing you as much as he could before he dove in, licking a stripe up your slit and wrapping his lips around your clit.

Moaning quietly, he began sucking on the sensitive nub, bringing his free hand and slowly pushing in his index finger. You arched your back and threw your head back, making Miguel stop. He kept his still finger inside you as he spoke.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he urged in a low voice, not aggressively but enough that you knew he wouldn’t let you finish if you didn’t. You brought your head up to look at him again.

He brought his mouth back down to your pussy, beginning to move his finger in and out of you slowly. He had long, thick fingers, making you wonder how big his dick was.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, closing your eyes for a moment but remembering to look at Miguel.

He smiled against your clit, pushing in yet another finger. He forced them both further this time, curling them up into your g-spot as you arched your back. His eyes stayed on yours as he held the flat of his tongue against your clit. His digits thrusted into you at a slightly quicker pace, making a crease form in between your eyebrows, your lips parting.

“Feel good?” He asked politely, the vibrations of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. You nodded. “Yes, Miguel, please don’t stop…”

He sighed, pulling his fingers out and his lips popping off your nerve.

“Sorry, mi amor… Want you cumming while I’m inside you.” He felt bad for pulling your orgasm out of your grasp. You frowned too, that was until he stood up, displaying a super obvious bulge. It looked like there was a literal log stuffed in his pants, perpendicular to his body.

You stared at it, your legs instinctively spreading on their own. Miguel smiled softly. “Do you wanna help me, or…?”

Quickly sitting up, you reached for his sweatpants and pulled on the string, loosening them and desperately pulling them down. He stood in his boxers now, allowing nearly nothing to remain for the imagination. Your fingers traced his V-line, causing him to huff out a breath.

“I thought I told you not to tease…” he sighed, watching your hands closely. Hooking your fingers on his boxers, you finally pulled them down, leaving his erection on full display. It was nearly red, clearly it’s been untouched by anyone but his own right hand for a long time.

You couldn’t help but trace a finger along a vein on the side, making him moan quietly. “Please, mi amor.” he chuckled. “Don’t be like this…”

Your hand wrapped around him, spreading the precum on his tip with your thumb. He grabbed your shoulder, grinding into your hand, desperate for release.

Letting go, you laid back down, spreading your legs for him and smiling, reaching your arms out to him. “C’mere,” you giggled, excited to feel him inside you already. He smiled and leaned down, hovering over you. You paused.

“Wait…” you bit your lip nervously. He leaned back to look at you, a look of concern all over his face. “Qué pasó, princesa?”

“Can we try something…?”

His head tilted to the side, a small smirk on his lips. “Like what?”

“I think about taking you in every position, night and day… But I always tend to think of taking you from behind…”

Miguel’s face was red, the blush reaching his ears. His heart raced at the confession, although he thought about giving it to you in more ways than one. He bit his lip and smiled. “Of course, mami.”

You bit back a smile and quickly flipped yourself over. Miguel pulled your hips back harshly, making you yelp. He chuckled at your reaction, taking himself in his hand and slowly stroking himself, keeping a firm grip on your hip. He lined his tip up with your pussy, shuddering at your wetness against him. He teased you, moving it up and down your slit and smiling, waiting for your sweet voice to tell him to just fuck you already.

“Ay coño, Miguel!” You scolded. He laughed softly before pushing in slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you so quickly. As he bottomed out, you felt your body relax, your back arching at a sharp angle as your chest rested on the mattress, your arms wrapped around a pillow as you sighed.

“See?” You could hear the smile in his voice. “Flexible.”

You playfully rolled your eyes before he pulled out slowly, pushing himself back in with the same gentleness and drawing out a soft moan from him. “Is this okay, baby?” He needed your approval before he could pick up his pace.

“Sí, Miguelito. Love how you feel inside me…” you whined at his girth stretching you out.

He took that as a sign that he could continue, his hips pulling back before he pushed back into you, repeating this movement until he was moving at an easy rhythm.

He sighed, “So tight, fuck…”

You only hummed in response, stuffing your face into the pillow, his movements rocking you back and forth. You felt the weight of his hand next to your arm as his other snaked around your waist, keeping you steady with his thrusts getting harder.

You groaned, biting your wrist so to suppress it before you heard him speak. “I like your voice, princesa. Don’t be afraid to use it.” He smiled, kissing behind your ear. The hand on your belly moved lower, finding your clit and putting pressure on it, rubbing it in tight circles.

You clenched around him at the feeling, causing him to groan quietly into your ear.

“Miggy—“ you choked out his name. “I’m gonna cum…” you informed him. He kept his pace the same, hoping to get you off on his movements.

“F—Faster,” you choked out, “deeper…” you whined again, his movements making you more and more sensitive the longer he went on. You knew he wasn’t all the way in, because although he bottomed out, you barely felt his hips brushing against your ass. He wasn’t pressed up against you.

“Fuck,” he sighed. You moved your knees further apart and he was able to push himself further into you, making you cry out a sob as your eyes watered at his size. He pulled back, the warmth of his chest against your back leaving you as his pelvis began hitting against your ass, making his breaths heavier.

“I’m gonna cum too,” he groaned. You clenched around him once more, feeling your orgasm getting closer and closer. He started moaning with each thrust, throwing his head back as his hands groped your ass harshly.

“Miguel—“ you were able to choke his name out before your walls stuttered around him, your vision getting blurry as you finally came. Miguel felt your liquids around him, dripping out of you and flowing down your thighs, his cock being coated with them every time he pulled out.

He continued moving inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm as you tightened around him, making him whine loudly. “Princesa,” he moaned, “can I cum—fuck—inside you?” He grunted, subconsciously speeding up his pace.

“Yes, Migs… Breed me…Please.” You begged, your cunt growing sore already.

Miguel grunted, his thrusts coming to a sudden halt as he leaned back down, ropes of his cum pumping inside you. His talons protracted into your hips with his orgasm, moaning quietly against your shoulder and kissing it as he ground into you, his breaths hitching.

He finally relaxed behind you, softening inside you as he felt the mess of yours and his cum flowing down your legs and inevitably onto the sheets. He kissed the side of your neck gently before whispering. “That was fucking amazing.” He smiled against your skin. “Yeah…” you agreed, trying to ignore his claws digging into your skin.

You hissed and he noticed something wet at the tips of his fingers, panicking and immediately pulling his claws out of you, he began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, princesa—” He leaned back down and kissed the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to do that… I’m sorry…” He frowned, realizing how much he’s hurt you within the first time he’s had sex with you.

“It’s okay, papito… I liked it…” you held back a wince, not wanting him to feel bad about anything he’s done because although it hurt, it turned you on. “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow and pulled out of you, making you sigh at the empty feeling. “I’ll be sure to do it again…” He went to get a warm wet towel and cleaned you up, dabbing softly at the bite mark on your leg that you completely forgot was there.

It began to sting as you recalled it and you hissed, making Miguel look up at you and pull away from the small wound. “Sorry.” He made a face. You could only smile at his carefulness. “It’s okay, handsome.” You grabbed his face and he smiled with surprise.

“Handsome?” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “I’d like to get used to that…” Miguel smiled against your mouth. Pulling away again, he cleaned himself up and did his best to reverse the mess you left on the sheets. After he rinsed the towel out and put it in the laundry bin, he came back to bed and picked up his clothes along with yours.

“We’re not putting those back on, are we?”

He only smirked. “Why?”

“Just get in here, dummy.” You giggled, lifting the sheets for him to get in next to you. He didn’t hesitate for a second and dropped the clothes, climbing in under the covers with you. You placed a kiss on his chin and turned around to spoon with him. Miguel kissed your temple and sighed contently.

You nuzzled your ass against him as he raised an eyebrow. “Another round already?”

“I just like you inside me…” you whispered. “Feels empty without you.” You confessed.

He smiled warmly, grabbing a hold of himself, feeling himself hardening again already. He lifted your leg up and guided himself into you, sighing at your warmth. “I like being inside you too.”

You ground back on him, making him groan.

“You’re such a tease.”

———————

Thx for reading xoxo

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara fanfiction #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #smut #iz writes

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miguel-ohara-lover · 9 months

Note

Do you do dom!Miguel? If so, maybe a Dom!Miguel x Sub!F!Reader? (If you’re not comfortable with that, I love some good domestic HC’s with Miguel :3 )

I go fucking feral for some Dom Miguel.

Also because I’m soooo nice here’s the HC’s too: Domestic HCs

CW: Smut, dirty talk in Spanish (idk what else to add 🤷🏻)

Pls forgive any grammar mistakes…

After a long day of protecting the multiverse, Miguel returns to your shares apartment, very tired and very horny. You were just getting the stuff out to make dinner when you felt something press you up against the counter.

Miguel dipped his head down, moving your hair out of the way as he kisses your neck. You could feel his fangs graze your skin, one of his hands traveling down to your hip to pull you back against him.

“Long day, darling?” You tilted your head back to look at him. All he did was hum in response, face nuzzles into the crook of your neck. His hands move down and he lifts the hem of your skirt. You just smile to yourself and let him have his fun, feeling the bulge in his pants against your ass.

“Te necesito, cariño…” He groaned into your ear, tugging at your panties. You just keep your hands busy preparing dinner, and he tugs more aggressively when you don’t give him the attention he wants. Though he can feel how wet your panties are, he knows you want this just as much as he does.

You felt his hands pull away before hearing the familiar sound of his hologram suit disappearing. You felt his hard cock spring free against your ass, the fabric of your panties becoming wet with his precum. You smirked a little as you pressed back against him, earning a small grunt from Miguel.

He continued to kiss and bite at your neck, marking you up as he pushes your panties to the side. His large dick slides through your wet folds, covering his length in your slick. You let out a quiet moan as you feel him press against your clit. The tip of his cock teased your tight entrance.

Once his cock is covered he pushes into you slowly, stretching your cunt around his girth. You moan, feeling so tight around him. No matter how much you to went at it you always felt so tight on him.

He started rocking his hips slowly until he was completely buried in you. Miguel paused for a moment to let you adjust, and when he heard your whine of impatience he started thrusting slowly. Gradually picking up the pace, he spilled for precum inside your tight pussy, letting out low groaned and grunted whenever you clenched around him.

“Relax…” He whispered in your ear, voice deep and gravely. You tried to relax, but the feeling of his cock slamming into you, drawing you closer and closer to the edge made that hard. He nipped at your neck gently as his pace increased a bit. You could tell he was close, his breath ragged and he started muttering in Spanish like he so often did.

You moaned and braced yourself against the counter as the familiar knot formed in your gut. One of his hands found it’s way to your clit and rubbed circles around it, taking you over the edge immediately. You let out a loud cry as your orgasm rushes through you, covering Miguel’s cock in your cum as you clenched around him.

He let out a low groan as he released inside you, lazily rolling his hips against you as you both ride out your orgasms. Your legs tremble as he fills you, and he wraps his arms around you to keep you steady. Once you both finished he pulled out and kissed your cheek.

“Gracias.” Miguel gave your ass a light slap before going to the bedroom to get some clothes.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel

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doiesfav · 10 months

Text

✮º:•. Blooming Spring - Jaehyun ||

Pairing: father! Jaehyun x mother! Reader

Plot: Jaehyun is always prepared for any challenge, even if it was sky diving or meeting the president but preparing her daughter's first official day at school was worse than he imagined. Y/n his wife, was on a business trip so of course he had to do it alone.

Genre: Short story, slice of life, fluff, parenthood, established relationship, fiction

A/n: I'm so sorry if this story is a little bit shorter than the others, this was a bit rushed since I'm also preparing a Mark birthday special fic ;) (I hope yall enjoy reading it tho and would appreciate reblog or follow♡♡♡)

wc -> 1,1k

From PARENTHOOD SERIES

MASTERLIST

banners and dividers are self made

Spring is the time of the year when kids are starting school, well, at least in Korea. And there wasn't any exception for Haru, your and Jaehyun's daughter, she is starting her very first day of school tomorrow but there was a problem. You were in a business trip outside and your husband had to take care of it.

Jaehyun told you to not worry, but something inside you wasn't that trusting. He was a great dad and loved her a lot so why it would be that difficult. Haru on the other side, was naughty, disobedient, and those things. Where she could have gotten that personality? Well from you, of course, although you have now matured. When Jaehyun and you met, you two were still in high school having the same age so that was like 12 years ago maybe but didn't start dating until 18 years old, he always thought you were extremely extroverted, and maybe all your charisma was something he is attracted to. All your friends around never thought of you two having such a long relationship and now you guys are married and have a kid.

''Daddy, when is mommy coming home?'' She asked her father who was helping her take a bath for her first day at school, ''Do you miss her a lot baby?'' she nodded, bubble bath time was her favorite thing. After a long day of playing and getting dirty, it was like her spa time, ''Will you stay with me at school?'' She asked again, ''Well, there will be teachers who can help you, daddy won't be with you'' Oh he shouldn't have said that. Haru when she heard the words her father said started making her cry out loud, she was very clingy and it was very hard to make her stop crying. The dad tried to calm her by telling her she'll be alright but it was too late, Haru then started to splash the water out of anger, and it made Jaehyun's clothes get wet. He didn't know what to do anymore so he ran to get his phone and facetime you hoping that you were out of the plane already, luckily you were in the hotel so it was good.

''Heyy, what's going on there honey?'' You asked because of your daughter's screams and cries. ''Can you try to relax her, I just said that she would be alone tomorrow at school'' It was very obvious your husband didn't even know how this ended up, he thought he would have everything in control even if you weren't. He carefully put the phone in front of his daughter trying to not make contact with the water, ''Mommy, daddy won't be with me tomorrow he's a bad person'' She said while shedding tears, ''Hey baby, do you know why he won't be with you?'' Haru shook her head and relaxed a little more than she was. ''do you have fun with Aeyoung? (A/n: not my own multiverse here LMAO) If you do that's because you two are friends and when you are there you have to learn how to make more friends''.

''But I don't know how to'' She stopped crying trying to understand what it meant, ''That's why the teachers will be there not us, the teachers are professionals'' Haru wasn't crying anymore but it was obvious how much she did because of the swelling eyes and red cheeks. Jaehyun finished washing her and dried her, while he was blow drying his daughter's hair she asked something. ''Dad, I don't think I want to go tomorrow'' she said after sobbing for a while because her father didn't notice before. He was already exhausted because it was his wife that usually took care of Haru's bath time, every time he closed his eyes he swears he would fall asleep immediately.

''But you have to, okay baby?'' And Haru nodded. After Jaehyun put her in bed and kissed her forehead he went to the master room and lay on the bed aggressively and without even noticing he fell asleep forgetting to put an alarm...

Jaehyun woke up with someone calling him, it was you and why would you call him it was probably 1AM for you. His morning voice answered lazily ''Hello?'' he said with his eyes still closed as he was processing everything. ''Hey, Jeong Jaehyun!! Why aren't you sending Haru to school?'' Then he opened his eyes, his daughter's first day at school. Jaehyun never ran so fast to her room, ''Haru, wake up, quickly'' he said but saw that there wasn't anyone in the room he ran to all the places and when he reached the bathroom there was she, Haru was brushing he teeth, but her clothes and hair were still the same. ''Let me do your hair meanwhile okay?'' she nodded, Jaehyun hurried up with the process so it wasn't the best looking hair he could do. After it he told her to change up while he cooks breakfast, then he remembered that there wasn't anything in the fridge, that's right, they didn't do the groceries.

Not knowing what to do he just took out some leftover curry from yesterday's dinner and heated it up in the microwave, it wasn't the best breakfast but at least it feeds someone. Haru went to the kitchen wondering what would she be eating, it was curry, she wasn't the type of person who is eating the same thing over again so she wasn't that excited. ''Is that breakfast?'' ''Yes baby now eat or we will be later than we are'' She didn't have any options and just eat it, meanwhile, Jaehyun went to change his clothes, brushed his teeth and washed his face. When he went to check on Haru she was already waiting to leave, ''Let's go'' It was 8:20AM and school started 20 minutes ago, Jaehyun carried his daughter in his arms and ran carefully but quickly towards the school which was 8 minutes from their house.

Haru was having a lot of fun in his dad's arms, on the other hand, Jaehyun was kinda struggling. When finally arrived he quickly went inside if there was any teacher nearby to take Haru to her classroom, and luckily there was. ''excuse me are you Mr. Jeong?'' ''Oh yes, yes sorry if we are a bit late'' he put Haru down so the teacher could take her. ''I mean you were half an hour late but don't worry, say goodbye to your daddy'' the teacher made Haru wave her hand to Jaehyun. After he left the building it was as if his mission was complete, the very first day wasn't what he expected after all.

Ayeyeyeyey another one completed, only jungwoo left hahsh. Anyways thanks for the support yall and sorry if i keep changing dates😭

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starrose17 · 5 months

Text

Sometimes Loki would cry.

It was impossible to say how many times, bathed in eons of branches, wrapped around him, over him, becoming him, where he began and they began was lost so long ago it wasn't even a memory anymore.

But he knew he cried.

The tears would trickle down his cheeks, sometimes silently, sometimes not so silently, and they would drip onto a branch which would sparkle momentarily, like lifegiving water to a leaf. The branch would shimmer, and the shimmer would run up the branch into its canopy, and be lost in time, quite literally.

Sometimes many branches shimmered.

Sometimes for centuries.

Loki couldn't remember when he became a physical part of the tree, when his body and the tree combined into a being undescribed by mortals eyes. But he remembered Mobius, it was the one memory that kept him there, kept him alive, but also kept him crying.

He cried, because he knew what he was doing had to be done, for Mobius, for all of them, but the ache in his heart never seemed to pass, no matter that his veins had become branches, that the valves into his heart led to time, that there wasn't a single part of him that didn't have multiversal lives attached to it in some form.

It didn't matter, it still ached, even if it didn't look much like a heart anymore.

He cried, because he missed Mobius, he missed him so much that on days when his cries were not silent they shaked the very canopy of the tree. He wondered if it might be best that he forgot about him, that the ancient loneliness would fade if he didn't know any better. That he didn't know friendship.

That he didn't know love.

But no. He had to remember, or he wouldn't understand what he was doing, why he was here. Would he raise from his throne and leave? Surely he couldn't even if he had to, his lungs drew in breath that fed tiny newly formed timelines, absorbed into his veins, new universes being birthed every second through the very pours of his skin.

He was the tree, he could no sooner leave his throne than open his eyes and see Mobius standing before him. Both were long since an impossibility.

So why did it matter that he remembered? He'd forgotten everything else, who he was before and who he was now could have been the same person as far as he knew. All he knew was that Mobius had given him everything he had never had before, somehow he knew that, remembered that, and that was more important than anything else he may have forgotten.

Though couldn't remember what Mobius looked like anymore.

It was all just a feeling, a memory like black and white film faded almost into nothing, yet the emotions it produced in it's watcher would remain forever within them. Mobius was the moving picture in his head that he couldn't see, was the time in a God where time was everything and nothing all at once, and was the reason for the warmth that sometimes spread throughout what was left of his own body, a warmth that made the canopy explode in blossoms of pinks and golds that would shine and far out sparkle any shimmering tears.

But the blossoms always faded when the tears would come again, and if he hadn't forgotten how to speak so very, very long ago, he would say the name out loud. Mobius. Mobius. Mobius. Like a wish. Like a prayer. Like a terrifying, begging cry into the dark.

Perhaps, maybe, even if Gods prayed enough, miracles would happen. But his returning tears would always prove they did not.

The God of Stories, was not allowed to have his own.

And Mobius, he would forever remain a single distant longing, half remembered, half forgotten, but always, always here. Sharing the long loneliness, making the tears, making the blossoms, again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again.

For all time.

Always.

#lokius #loki series

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void-ink-studios · 7 months

Text

Touch of Light

This is in the same timeline as "Wrath of the Wishmaster" which you can read here! Specifically, this is a bit before the events of that fic. They're not officially together yet, but they're getting close.

Do I have two other WIPs I should be working on? Yes. Will I write this instead? Also, yes.

Enjoy, y'all.

Word Count: 2,300

Scarab had gone missing again.

While Prismo was not the type to take much stock in what the beetle got up to in his spare time, the disappearing act he's been pulling lately is getting... concerning.

It wasn't as if it was a problem per say... Scarab lived here now too, and he had as much right to explore the space as Prismo did. Plus, it wasn't as if Scarab was necessarily required up in the main chamber all the time.

But Prismo was starting to miss the company.

Him and Scarab had seemed to finally strike up some kind of peace. He'd help the Wishmaster with his fanfics that needed a certain bloody zest, he'd talk of his adventures across the multiverse, and he'd been slowly teaching him his strange language of chirps, clicks, trills, and buzzing.

The Time Room just felt more alive ever since that blue shadow was added to the routine. And it felt like they both had finally gotten used to each other enough to just... be. Relax. Smile.

It'd been a long time since Prismo smiled in earnest.

But now Scarab was gone. Well, not gone, but it's not like Prismo knew where he was.

The disappearing was relatively new.

Once, every few weeks or so (maybe, time was always strange here), Scarab would open a hatch to the Time Room's basement, slink away, and vanish for the rest of the day (probably). He'd be back after a while and not acknowledge he was even gone.

It never exactly sat well with the Wishmaster. What's with the sneaking around? Was he hiding something?

Maybe he thought Prismo wouldn't notice?

That would make sense, considering how Scarab would always cast quick glances at him before slinking away. Like he was checking if Prismo was watching.

Prismo shut his laptop. He pondered for a second.

Should he try and go find Scarab? He wanted to give him the privacy he deserved but this whole thing was starting to freak him out.

A small part of him wondered if perhaps he was looking for a certain sleeping old man.

Prismo shook his head, scolding himself for even the thought.

They were friends now.

Hopefully.

Maybe...?

Hmm.

The more he thought, the more he freaked himself out. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to just take a quick peek.

He sent duplicates down into the basement, just to poke around, of course.

One stood guard over his old, sleeping body. Just in case.

He pondered where Scarab would wander off to. The Time Core, perhaps? He always did have quite the awe for that place, despite how bright and loud it was in there.

But nope. Nothing.

He searched every nook and cranny of the Time Core, but nothing. No hint of blue on the wall, other than the light fromt the time waves.

Okay, plan A was a bust.

And while Prismo was pretty good with plan Bs, he didn't really come prepared with one for this adventure. Great.

Okay, it's fine, it's just one guy, potentially anywhere, in an infinitely extending downward pocket dimension that's walls could shift and move.

This was fine.

Prismo had to take a moment to breathe. Scarab managed to find his way back up before, so it's not like he was lost forever. Probably not.

He pondered if he should give up the search.

Until one of his duplicates passed through the pickle room on a whim. It was quiet. Almost too quiet to hear. But it was there. A soft chirping.

Almost all at once, Prismo's form condensed into that room as he looked around.

It was definitely Scarab's chirping. But was that also... crying?

Now Prismo was sweating. He'd known Scarab for eons, even before they became roommates. But he's never... never... heard Scarab cry before. No one had, as far as he knew.

He peered into one of the empty cubby shelves from his pickle stash, and... sure enough, there he was.

Scarab was curled up into as tight a ball as he feasibly could. His arms covered his head, and his knees tucked up into his chest. He laid on his side, shivering.

And... his mask was off. Granted, his face was covered by his arms and hands, but Prismo could see the spots of a lighter blue where his shell was parted.

The Wishmaster didn't know what to do. What could he do?

He gently reached a hand into the hole, fingers lightly brushing against the edge of Scarab's form.

"Scarab...?"

Several things happened at once.

Scarab's mask flew right back into place, save for his mouth, which he bared in a primal hiss. All his limbs shifted into some kind of spring-loaded position, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

"Woah, woah, Scrabs, it's me. You know, your buddy, Prismo?"

But Scarab didn't relax. His growl ended, and he closed up the lower half of his mask, but none of the tension left his shoulders, his legs, his back, even though all of it was shaking.

"Go away!" the beetle hissed, swiping at Prismo's hand. It's not like it hurt, but it was enough to startle the Wishmaster into pulling back. Scarab seemed to regret the action almost immediately, tucking himself further back into the cubby. "Don't touch me!"

"Okay, okay, I won't touch you. But... what are you doing down here, buddy? Didn't think you were the type to enjoy pickling." He laughed to himself, but it puttered out when his friend didn't return the sentiment.

Scarab just kept his body low to the ground. Even behind the mask, Prismo could hear his mandibles clicking together. While he wasn't fluent in all the noises his roommate made, he could put together this one's meaning. He's afraid. Deathly so.

"...You I'm not gonna hurt you, right? Remember, we're friends. Friends don't hurt each other. Right?"

"...I-I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I startled you, I get it. But... can you tell me what's going on, dude? I've never seen you like this."

"It's... It's nothing! Nothing!"

It was a lie. An obvious one. A desperate one. Prismo didn't even have to say it. He just continued looking into Scarab's eyes.

"I... I won't do this again, if that's what you're concerned about..."

"That's not it, Scrabs. I just want to know what's going on. And... why the pickle room?"

Scarab seemed to consider his options in answers.

"...This is the only room with holes in the wall I can get to..."

"Why did you need a hole in the wall?" He gave Scarab a soft look, a little encouraging smile.

"It... It makes me... feel... safe."

Scarab ducked his head in shame. Prismo frowned at that, for many reasons.

"Did you feel... unsafe up in the main chamber? Did I do something wrong?"

"N-No... No, it isn't you... I just... I needed to feel isolated... just for a little while..."

"Is this where you've been going recently?"

"...Yes."

Prismo sighed.

"Scarab. You don't have to if you don't want to but... Can you tell me why you've been disappearing? I'm worried about you, dude." He slowly, gently extended a hand into the cubby again, leaving it a few inches away from Scarab's silhouette.

There were a few beats of silence before Scarab's little hand extended to rest overlapped with Prismo's. The Wishmaster smiled but didn't otherwise draw attention to it.

"I... I wanted to feel safe because... my body... even in this form, it fights against me."

"What do you mean?"

"...I'm in pain, Prismo. I'm in pain and disoriented. And... my instincts make me need to hide while I'm like this. This... is the closest I have to a burrow in the Time Room."

His voice sounded so small. Much smaller than Prismo ever would've suspected the might scary God Auditor Scarab to make.

"Oh... I'm sorry Scrabs, I didn't know..."

"No one does... When I... had my job, I could ignore it if it got this bad. I was always moving. On the hunt. I could avoid listening to my own body long enough for it to fade away. But now... the Time Room is so still... so... I've gone back to... hiding."

He said that last word with a lot more contempt than Prismo expected.

"Hey. Thank you for telling me, Scrabs. How about this. When you're feeling a bit better, you can come with me, and we can make you some better hiding spots than the pickle room cubbies. I bet it's not really relaxing when everything smells like vinegar, right?"

"I... I actually can't smell it much."

"...Really? I thought beetles and stuff had, like, really good smell. With their antenna and stuff?"

Scarab flinched at that. Prismo's eyes widened.

"...Scarab... Oh no..."

The beetle sighed, slowly scootching out of the cubby, closer to the Wishmaster. His mask rearranged slightly, showing the cropped little stumps where antenna clearly used to be.

"It's... part of why I'm here. It's... disorienting, some days... And... it's not the only reason..."

Scarab seemed to hesitate again.

"...You don't have to show me if you don't want to, Scrabs."

"...But I think I do... because... well..." he trailed off. He turned around, slowly opening his elytra. "...you make me feel safe, Prismo...

The Wishmaster swallowed down the gaps he felt trying to climb up his throat. He never thought about why he'd never seen Scarab fly, either in the Time Room, or on his hunts. But... he'd never suspected this to be the reason...

His wings looks awful. Or, more accurately, what was left of his wings. It resembled pages ripped out of a book, the edges jagged and tattered. One was bent at an awkward angle, twitching ever so slightly.

"Oh Scarab..."

What could he possibly say? Sorry? It'll be okay? There wasn't anything to add. So he didn't.

He reached slowly with his other hand. Scarab flinched a little when it began overlapping his back, but his shoulders eventually relaxed as Prismo began rubbing soft circles in the center.

"...Is there anything you'd like me to do, Scrabs?"

"...I'm usually able to ride days like these out if I just stay put... I can manage."

"Yeah, I guess but... is there something that could make you more comfortable? I like blankets, personally."

"I..."

Scarab looked to the ground, like he was pondering.

"I... Don't know... I've never... thought about it before."

"...Give me a few minutes. I'll be right back."

Prismo left a silent duplicate behind to continue petting Scarab's back as he went to make his little preparations. A lot was on his mind, top of which was "What happened?"

Because something clearly did. The injuries seemed too... deliberate to be just part of the dangers of being a God Auditor. It was too specific. It was meant to hurt, but not kill.

Prismo felt his form shiver and darken the more he thought about it. He shook his hand, watching the purplish black lighten back up into pink. He couldn't get mad yet, he was on a mission.

Just as promised, Prismo returned a few minutes later, now finding Scarab's eyes closed, lightly purring at the feeling of the hand on his back.

"Hey Scrabby. I've got a surprise for you. Can you walk, or do you need help?"

Scarab slowly opened his eyes again, looking at the Wishmaster carefully.

"...I can walk, I suppose. Just... slower than you might like."

"That's okay. It's not going anywhere."

The two walked through the halls of the Time Room's basement in relative silence. Prismo occasionally hummed, and Scarab sometimes joined in with a soft trill, but neither felt the need to speak at the moment.

"Alright man... here we are."

Prismo gestures to a new hole in the wall. Scarab raised an eyebrow, curiously crawling up the wall into the hole. The Wishmaster smiled at the surprised little gasp he heard.

Tucked into the back of the hole, which was much deeper and cozier than the pickle cubby, was essentially a nest. A soft heated blanket covered the bottom, a white noise machine, and a thermos of hot tea waited for Scarab.

"Prismo... you... you didn't have to do this..."

"I guess not. But... well, maybe I wanted to. I didn't know you were in pain, but now that I do, I'd be a pretty bad friend to let you wallow in it. So... think of this as your space to get away if you need it. We can make more when you're feeling better, but I think this is a good start, yeah?"

"This is... all mine?"

"Yep. There's a little remote in there too, with a little screen. If you want to watch something, or whatever. If need anything else, just push the big red button on the bottom, and I'll send a dupe down here to help."

"I..."

Scarab sounded like he was on the verge of tears again, but the beetle choked them back down.

"...Thank you, Prismo."

Prismo couldn't help but smile.

"Feel better soon, Scrabs. We still need to figure out the next chapter for this mystery drama we've been cooking up, yeah?"

Scarab let out a soft chuckle as he curled himself into the back of his hiding spot. "Yes, indeed."

The Wishmaster nodded before leaving the beetle to his rest. It wasn't common for him to help without a wish but... Well, he had a feeling he might be more than willing to bend the rules when it came to things like this.

And, with the tired smile in Scarab's eyes still fresh in his head, Prismo couldn't find it in him to mind.

#prohibitedwish #scarab x prismo #scarab the god auditor #prismo the wishmaster #prohibitedwish fanfic #wrath of the wishmaster

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queen-of-scissors · 2 years

Note

I need more of that content i wonder how will they react with minecraft or fucking roblox because roblox has a LOT of games

AWW yeaaa more ideas timmeee

Also you didnt specify if you want a cult au but i kinda did it like that. Sorry

ROBLOX

Roblox is basicly an another excuse to use "the creator of thousand worlds butt

İf you tell them it has alot of other worlds in it, you're gonna be the...

GOD OF MULTİVERSE

Now for me, i only use roblox for Tycoon or horror games, Tycoon games just fits the Vibe as a creator of tevat

But horror? Oh boy..

Now we know that hu tao is gonna be so impressed by the spooky stuff you show (prolly exept gore but yea) and she is gonna be the one that gives you the title;

GOD OF HYPERDEATH (no wdym its an undertale reffrence?)

İ remember seeing a game in roblox that were about surviving a super caotic natural dissasters. İf you play those types of survival games first of all, your followers gonna cry.

"oh how much pain have one went through!"

Especially archons are gonna be all over you if you play the natural disaster one,

"BAAL STOP USİNG THUNDER YOU'RE SCARİNG YOUR GRACE!!"

"İ AM SCARİNG THEM??? YOU ARE THE ONE THAT MADE HURRİCANES!!!"

meanwhile you're like: "i didn't survive anything-"

But your acolytes only get sadder because "you were so traumatised that you dont remember???"

Ninguang asks you to give normal people a lesson on how to survive a natural dissaster. Especially to those that dont have a vision.

But??? Acid rains aren't realy possible??

Anyways now you're the:

THE LAST AVATAR (your choice of words)

MİNECRAFT

Oh boy a tricky one

İt all based on how you explain minecraft.

"its a survival game about surviving the wild but there are monsters that come out at night"

Ah yes, another survival game, you seem to like that as a form of sport! Dont be suprised if you see some of your acolytes actually going for extreme survival sport to honour your name (childe, xiao, maybe zhongli, Cyno etc.).

They won't make it a secret oh no no, they want you to be the judge of who can survive the longest (before you pit an end to the competition).

Cyno found your job a perfect name even!

MAAT, GOD OF JUDGMENT (i legit looked through mythology for this lmao)

"its a survival game but everything is a cube"

Hehe venti is gonna call you a "blockhead" but before he can even say it he gets silenced by zhongli.

But you say that for him, loud and proud!

People are too afraid to use that as one of your titles, and if you say its fine, theyre gonna see it as you're testing them. But you and venti found another way to use this funny nickname;

Behold!! The

Rock.

(hehehe rock)

"its actually a survival game but you can create whatever you want in it, so-"

"wait a minute, did you say... Creation?"

Wrong choice of words got you in this one. Theres no going back.

Now people belive that you use that world so you can do a quick plan of what you are going to do in other worlds. That world must be SUPER important to you, And since Tevat and that world are actually kind of (not) alike, that also means that you also like this world other than the rest!!

Oh if they knew...

İf they knew what you did to all those poor villagers... And even sheeps (i see you and im calling the cops)...

"did you know that in that world, you only need to feed people to get them pregnant?"(not realy but its fun to leave some detailes to imagination :P)

W h a t.

They hope that that world isnt where you are from originally. BECAUSE YOU'D GOT SOME EXPLAİNİN TO DOO- zhongli would be on watchlist istg

Anyways you're the VİLLAGE TAMER now

-------------------

Hope you like it, i used every bit of my English knowledge and last 2 braincells for this.

But it was fun! İm open to more ideas! (İ can only do the games i know/played so sorry if you do request but couldnt answer 🙏)

#genshin sagau #sagau #sagau brainrot #sagau x reader #self aware genshin #genshin x you #genshin isekai #minecraft #roblox #genshin x reader #genshin impact sagau

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izukuwus · 7 months

Text

Boiling Point 4: Finale - Miguel O'Hara x Reader (NSFW)

First - Prev - M.list - Ao3

A/N: by the power of banana pudding rum we got there. thanks for waiting and please enjoy!

Summary: We reach the part where you get what you want.

Notes: smut. this is the part with actual sex for real. uh biting mentions, blood drawn, etc.

Word Count: 2800

None of this has exactly been how you expected this night to go.

At any turn, you were expecting something else. Not eating sandwiches atop the Empire State building and sipping fountain drinks while you floated, quite frankly thinking you were out of your damn mind and dreaming some truly deranged shit, as Miguel acted exactly like normal in response to having discovered that your sex drive is basically controlled by whether or not he breathes in the same room as you on a given day.

By the time you've nearly finished your drink and near pulling off the lid to crunch the ice, mostly to have something to do with your mouth other than fuck up, Miguel lets out a heavy sigh.

Honestly, you're still stuck on the part where he knows. Clearly he's somewhere miles past you, speaking frankly, as though this is a normal conversation to be having. Just a Spiderman and the Spider belonging to this version of New York, far above the ground. You stare at the stars while he stares at the streets below.

"Are you understanding anything I've said to you? I'm starting to think you're not."

The ice cube cracks in your teeth. You spit it back into your cup to respond. "It's more like I think I'm being punked right now."

"Punked?" he repeats back. You wonder if that's because that's not a thing in Nueva York, or if it's because the idea is so stupid that he can't believe you've put it into the world in the first place. (It is, in fact, a little bit of both.)

You double down, because that is your best quality. "Yeah. Like, tricked? Pranked? You're sitting here having taken me out for chicken sandwiches in response to—hell, I don't think I can make myself say it out loud, but anyways you are Miguel O'Hara and it takes all the work in the world to not think of you by your full name every time because you're just that fucking amazing."

He lets you go on, watches you as you watch the stars. You pause to crunch another ice cube before continuing. "Like, I'm not sorry for thinking you're the hottest thing to walk any Earth. I am sorry you found out, because I can see how that would be uncomfortable to discover, but like. You are hot. I could go into excruciating detail, if you'd like, but I think that's a bit too much, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to be, like, normal?"

"You're not any less normal than anyone else we’ve brought into the multiverse," he says. "I am now completely convinced that you haven't been listening to anything I've said, though."

“I haven’t… not been listening?”

“Okay. Then, what have I been telling you?”

You thoughtfully crunch another ice cube.

“…shit.”

He sighs. “Okay, let’s take it from the top. I was hoping you would figure out you were being an idiot before you sent yourself spiraling directly into sub drop, but that clearly didn’t happen. As fun as it’s been watching you drive yourself insane, this isn’t how I wanted to see you fall apart.”

“…okay.” He’s watching your every movement, and you, in turn, are trying to control each one, down to whatever microexpressions you can. Part of you wants to cry from the embarrassment of it all. But dammit, you are not sitting at the top of this building to cry for once. “So… how did you want to see me fall apart?”

“I can show you.”

Please hold. Buffering.

“Okay!” It comes out a squeak, but this is not a man who has the time to let you cringe, apparently, because you’re suddenly being bodily lifted from your perch, your trash nearly forgotten except your quick thinking to web it to you. Responsible superheroes don’t leave their trash on skyscrapers.

“Limits?” he says as he carries you, so easily for a man only using one hand.

“What?”

“What are your limits? Dirty talk, biting…”

Oh. Your face flares hot. I think you’re finally starting to get it. Good for you. “Um. I don’t… like… assplay?”

He nods, not even looking down at you. That’s fair. He’s a little occupied with the web-swinging right now. Actually, it’s kind of fun to be carried like this, rather than being the one doing all the work. You should find some way to con him into carrying you around like this again sometime.

“I can work with that. Anything else?”

“Um… normally I like degradation, but maybe not right now?”

“Makes sense. Safeword?”

You’ve suddenly forgotten every semblance of a safeword you’ve ever known. Good going. 10/10.

“Pumpkin,” you blurt.

“Pumpkin?”

“Pumpkin.”

“You didn’t just make that up on the spot, did you?”

“Not that you can prove.”

He lets out a soft huff, more felt than heard, and lands on the roof of your building. “Not sure I want your neighbor listening in.”

Ah. Yeah. That… huh.

(You are so fucking eloquent.)

You flash a grin. “Yeah, uh, I think he’s been doing that for a while. I might move, actually. When I can afford it. Do you think this is… better?”

He sighs. “No. But I need a moment.”

“Oh, okay, I can—“

His lips crash down on yours, and fuck it, this clearly isn’t real, so of course you’re going to moan against his lips and kiss him right back. He’s so much bigger than you—all muscles and hard lines and, when he pulls back and you open your eyes, deep red eyes and sharp teeth.

He must like something he sees in the way his eyes roam over you, because he groans and drops his head a bit. “Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been to not think about taking you like this?”

“Like what?” You do your best to sound innocent. It does something, a fact you’re proud to state you know from the way his clawed fingertips suddenly flex into your flesh.

…he is going to completely destroy you.

You, for one, are fully prepared for that outcome.

…probably.

Making out on the rooftop becomes making out in your bedroom becomes Miguel getting you out of your Spider suit in record time. (Maybe you’ll ask him for pointers after this, all things considered.) At least you’re not the only one getting surprised today—when he gets your top half bare and finds your tits bouncing free, not a bra in sight, there’s a growl passing his lips that leaves you shuddering.

“No bra?” His hand hovers over your breasts, as though waiting for permission.

You press your chest forward, right into his waiting hands. “Built into the suit.”

“That’s… dangerous.” His eyes are dark as they fixate on you, on the way your soft curves squish in his hands. “Have you ever worn a bra under the suit?”

You laugh, wrap your arms around his shoulders. “No, sir, I haven’t. You find me a stretchy spandex that doesn’t show every line underneath and then we’ll talk about bras and underwear.”

Without another word, he grabs at the rest of the suit bunched around your waist and yanks down. You yelp as you move with the suit, as you go from “superhero” to “ass-naked” in one fell swoop. That’s just unfair.

Dark eyes search your face, just a moment, just long enough for him to take in wide eyes and flushed cheeks. Whatever he’s looking for, clearly it satisfies him, because his next step is to jerk your hips up and hook your legs over his shoulders.

“So why don’t you tell me a bit about why you thought a contract like that was a good idea?”

You refuse to meet his eyes. Large hands dig into the flesh of your thighs—not painful, not enough to bruise, but enough that you feel the tiniest pricks of his claws threatening to press in.

“Come on, cariño. I wasn’t asking.”

You throw your arms over your face, hide your eyes so you don’t have to look at him when you admit it. “…I kept overheating the motors in my vibrators.”

He startles you with a real, genuine laugh. “Really.”

“Yes!” You jerk to try to face him, which leaves you in a weird half-crunch position. “You’re… a lot, okay? And I’m not, like, constantly constantly thinking about sex, with you or anyone else, but you do shit that gets me started and then I can’t stop and—“

“There you go,” he purrs. “That’s a good girl.”

Your rambling cuts off into a low moan as he buries his face between your thighs at last. His tongue enters your core, his fingers toy with your clit, and he works you up just to the point that you actually contemplate murder when he pulls away.

“Miguel, I can’t keep doing this,” you whine, tears already springing to your eyes in response to yet another denial.

He shushes you, gentle. You do not want gentle.

If we’re being completely honest, if this man does not break you tonight, your body is going to completely atomize itself on the spot.

“Please,” you whine.

He quirks a brow you-ways. Tilts his head. “What are you asking me for?”

“Anything. Need to cum. Please.”

A soft laugh. “You need it?”

“Need it.”

His fingers brush against your core, and you whine out.

“Okay.”

You nearly cry—first at the feeling of his fingers entering you, the promise that this is finally over, you’re finally done breaking toys and breaking yourself just to do something right, now someone else gets to break you—then at how expertly he manages to bring you back to the brim with two thick fingers pumping into your heat.

“There you go. You’re doing so well. So, so well, cariño.”

You smile through your moans, meet his blazing eyes as he works your walls and your clit. You cum hard and fast, writhing around him until he has to put a firm hand down on your stomach to keep you still, and this time, you do cry—from release, from overstimulation, from the fact that you got here and you did it and you did so well.

He doesn’t stop when you stop to catch your breath. The swift removal of his fingers is replaced once again by his mouth, and you cry as he laps up the fluttering remains of your first orgasm in so, so long. A jerk of your hips from the contact has just the barest brush of his fangs teasing against your pussy, just enough to remind you that they’re there and you’re finally, finally getting what you need.

“miguel,” you breathe out in lowercase.

He groans against you, grips your thighs again, and this time he does leave thin red lines behind as he loses himself in your pussy.

The second time you cum, you haven’t quite stopped with the tears from the first. It’s almost everything you’ve dreamed of. You’ve dreamed of some weird shit, though, so basically it’s everything worth dreaming of.

And again he barely stops. He pulls away, yes, when your walls stop spasming around his tongue and your whining drops to low keens, and he repositions himself to fondle your flesh, to smooth a large hand over the plush of your tits and thumb lazily at a single nipple, and when he kisses you, you taste yourself on his lips. But he isn’t done, and he makes quite clear he isn’t done quite quickly.

Lips trail from yours to your neck, and when you reach down in hopes of finding the truth of his cock, he grabs your wrist and nips at your throat.

You do not bother trying to repress the shudder as his teeth graze you.

He sighs, nearly laughs. “You’re seriously turned on by these?” he asks, pulling away to look you in the eye.

“M-mhm. All of you.” Oh dear. You didn’t think you could get stupider, but somewhere between edges, you must have found a shovel and started digging. Poor you. “But I really like teeth. Used to be so into vampires. Werewolves. Anything with big teeth that could wreck me.” Okay, that’s enough. You can stop talking now.

Oh, thank fuck, he took his turn in the conversation. That was getting bad. “Guess you’re lucky, then.”

“So lucky.” You nod.

Another graze of his teeth, and then again he pulls away. Bastard. Like you haven’t been edged enough these past few weeks, through no fault or decision of your own. “You know I can’t bite you, right? Paralytic venom?”

“Like I can move after what you just did to me anyway?”

He raises an eyebrow. “We’ll think about it.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”

“I can tell.” He leaves you there on the bed, a bit limp from the double orgasm action, and removes his own suit, slow and careful. “Lucky for you, I wasn’t done yet. That was just the prep work.”

“Prep?”

Ah. He’s big. Yeah, okay, that makes sense. Maybe you should have trained for this. He climbs right back on top of you, cock weighty where it rests on your stomach, and kisses you slowly. Almost loving, if you hadn’t known any better.

When he presses into you, it’s a stretch, big and sore and dragging out yet another whine from you. He shushes you gently, like this is something you’re supposed to be able to just push through, but he does and you do and when he bottoms out you’re honestly surprised he fits.

“There you go. There’s a good girl. Still doing good?”

No one here is completely sure whether you’re whimpering because his cock is finally inside of you or because of the pet name, but we’ll just say it was overstimulation and call it a day. You manage a nod, which has him arching his brow and holding very carefully still.

“I need a verbal answer, [name].”

“Still… still doing good. You’re good.”

“Okay.”

One slow, careful thrust turns into two turns into three turns into another, and you have to cling to him and claw just to find some sort of purchase before very long at all. By the time you’ve lost count, it’s more because you’ve lost your mind than anything. The overstim-sore gives way to a delicious stretch, and you’re sure you’re babbling something, though you’re pretty sure it’s just his name. That’s all that’s in your head, anyway.

What you know is this: his grip and his pace become bruising, at your enthusiastic pleading, and he fucks you until you don’t remember whether you came once or twice or stopped until he was done. You know that he pulls out, that he cums across your stomach in thick ropes. You know that he cleans you with a warm, damp cloth, tends carefully to the cuts on your thighs where his claws dug just a touch too deep. When you can sit up, you blearily take the kit from him and dab at the bits on his back where you managed to draw blood. Marks of your own left on his skin.

“You did good. Better than I was expecting, honestly.”

“You’re rude,” you shoot back with a sleepy-sounding laugh. “And big. And good.”

You’re not sure the etiquette here. In the light of no longer being mid-fuck, you cringe at the dance that socialization inevitably becomes. He’ll go back to his universe, and leave you here, and probably send Lyla to let you know of new assignments, but what do you do now except begrudgingly accept the chocolate he shoves in your mouth and make sure the cuts on his back are disinfected?

“Sorry about your thighs. That’ll sting for a while,” he says as you’re busily trying to memorize the muscles on his back.

“I’ll be fine. Quick healing and all that. Um…”

“I’ll do some work to figure out the venom thing, if you were serious about wanting me to bite you.”

“Of course I’m serious!” You squeak. “Your damned fangs were at least two of my casualties that started this whole thing!”

“Casualties?”

You fluster, turn away. “Yeah. Casualties.” A brief pause where it sinks in. “Wait. So you want to… do this again…?”

“Was that not clear? You’re a bright spot in the multiverse. If you’d just stop throwing yourself into stupid shit…”

“Don’t kid yourself. I’m already perfect.”

“You are. I’m still not biting you without being absolutely sure I won’t kill you in the process.”

“Aw, that’s half the fun!”

He gives you a sharp look, and you cringe.

“Right. Yeah, I get it. Feel free to surprise me when you figure it out, though.”

He pulls you into his arms, and in his warmth you feel yourself finally relax a little bit.

“I think I’ll take you up on that one.”

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @yohoe-hoe @ambientcryptidsounds @roxannarichie @vegas-writing-den @cooch1ecruncher @bluepeanutharmony @instanttragedyfire @thesilenthill @topreice @rhae-blackqueen

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As always, thanks for reading! <3

#my fics #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara/reader #reader inserts

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miguelsfangservice · 6 months

Text

BEYOND THE SPOTLIGHT IV

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!Famous Idol Reader Warnings: Angst/comfort, fame has caused reader a lot of pressure and insecurities. Summary: It doesn't matter he's at HQ trying to keep the multiverse afloat, your face, your voice, your smile and laugh follows him everywhere. No, he is not losing it (yet); it's just that it’s kind of inevitable when most spiders under his command are... how did Gwen called it? Ah-staning you? Well, he can't really complain, it's his girlfriend, after all.

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART IV

The way home is awkward, at best. Usually, when Miguel had time to pick you up he would convince you to swing with him to your shared apartment, but now he walked alongside you, never letting go of your hand, caressing your skin under his fingers once very few minutes.

You knew he was anxious about the whole ordeal and, honestly? Even though you would rarely get angry at him, a part of you felt some bitterness towards Miguel.

“I did not mean to behave that way I did in front of everyone” he mutters.

“Miguel, I don’t want to talk about this now, please…”

“Cielo, no, we need to talk about this now, alright? I know I messed up by bringing the subject at that time but I don’t think I regret it.”

“Seriously, Miguel? I’m probably getting benched for god knows how long and that’s all you have to say for yourself!?”

You are face to face with him know or, well, with his damn height more like head to chest. People have started walking around both of you after you decided to release your hand from his hold and stop walking.

“No, of course I feel bad for the damn outcome but I don’t regret telling Ashley what she needed to hear!” you can tell he’s trying not to yell too loud as to not attract too much attention.

“I’m not a child, Miguel! I could have handled this myself and privately!”

You can feel your blood start boiling when he lets out a disbelieved chuckle, rolling his eyes and putting both his hands inside his pockets; Miguel looks down and gently shakes his head.

“And when were you exactly planning to do that?” Miguel raises his head to look at you and the harsh expression on his face makes you shiver a bit. “When you let yourself hit rock bottom so they could get their money?”

“Miguel— “

“I was not lying back there, you know?” he visibly relaxes and tears spring to your eyes once more when you remember what Miguel said to Ashley, you knew, deep down, he was right; she was manipulating you…but the worst part was that you were letting her do it. “You are more than enough, if they can’t possibly see that it’s their loss, not yours. You are way too good to conform to just this one company and Ashley knows that, acting like you are the one who should be grateful to be working with them and not the other way around.”

Miguel’s heart breaks even more at seeing your state, your bitten raw lips, shaky hands and bags under your eyes. He puts his right hand over your cheek and caresses it, you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

You feel weird, sweaty and sobbing like a kid in the middle of a street full of people, but Miguel’s rough hand spread a delicious and comforting warmth all over your body; the best way you could describe what Miguel’s touch makes you feel is that of coming back home and nuzzling yourself into your comfy bed after a long and cold day out.

He’s definitely your weakness but also your biggest strength, no one could ever disarm you the way he does.

Extending your arms towards him like a child wanting to be held, Miguel moves his hands towards your waist and pulls you towards his body; with your face to his chest, you let yourself cry as much as you want to, choosing to forget everything and everybody else.

“Let’s go eat something and then you’ll probably need a good long day of sleep” he whispers softly, caressing your hair.

“I think I’ll need a shower first; I feel gross.” you mumble against Miguel’s chest and he chuckles.

“You don’t smell that bad--”

“Uh,Miguel?”

You feel Miguel freeze, which makes you open your eyes and look towards the voice calling him.

Peter B. Parker was half joking when he told Jess he believed Miguel to be dating someone, so him following Miguel around was more or so to kill some time, Peter really did not think he would end up finding something interesting.

But, oh boy, he could not have been prepared for the scene before his eyes. The ice cream Peter had purchased a few minutes ago melting on his hand as he looked at the couple hugging in the middle of the street as if they were on a romantic movie.

Miguel looks at him as if Peter had caught him stealing something, but his shock is quickly replaced with visible anger, which lets Parker know he is in so much trouble; it truly seemed like a funny idea to follow Miguel around for a bit to see what was up with him, but now? Yeah, no, he probably preferred to be fighting Rhino or anyone else right now.

“What the shock are you doing here, Peter?”

Peter stammers, trying to find the right words. "I...uh, wasn’t spying or anything. I just happened to be in the neighborhood, you know? And, uh, I saw you guys hugging, so, I thought I'd say hi. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, you know?"

You shift uncomfortably, feeling a mixture of emotions – from the lingering frustration of your earlier argument to the awkwardness of being caught in this intimate moment by an unexpected spectator.

“Oh” when you lock eyes with Peter he gives you a nervous smile and waves at you. “Um—Your ice cream is dripping.”

Miguel sighs, he knew he did not want this relationship to remain a secret from his friends forever, but this was not the way he wanted them to find out. Leave it to Peter to make things harder for him, it even surprises him he did not bring Mayday with him to spy on his boss.

“I’m Peter, by the way... and you are?”

You can’t help but laugh a bit at his nervousness, you shake his hand and when you tell Peter your full name something seems to click in his head.

Peter's eyes widen in surprise as he processes your words. "Wait, you're the one Hobie has been talking about? The musician?" His nervous smile turns into a genuine one, and he seems to relax a bit.

You nod, the tension easing as you find common ground. "Yep, that's me. I guess my music has made its way into Spider-HQ gossip."

Peter laughs, scratching the back of his head. "Well, yeah. Hobie's a huge fan. He's been trying to get me into it too, but I'm more of a classic rock kind of guy."

Miguel clears his throat, bringing the attention back to the present situation. "As fascinating as this conversation is, Peter, we were kind of in the middle of something before you, supposedly, ‘stumbled’ upon us."

"Right, right. Sorry about that. I'll just... leave you two to it. But uh, you should definitely visit us at the HQ sometime soon, I’m sure everyone would be excited to meet you."

“Sure, although, I’ve already visited the HQ a few times but it wouldn’t hurt to do it formally now, right?”

“Oh, so Miguel here was sneaking you into the HQ” he seems to forget Miguel is pissed off with him when he throws a playful smile towards him, but realizes his mistake soon when his boss almost growls at him. “Well—It was nice meeting you, Y/N!”

As Peter awkwardly makes his exit, you turn to Miguel with a playful smirk. "Well, that went better than expected, didn't it? I guess our relationship is officially out in the open now."

Miguel nods, squeezing your hand. "I didn't plan for it to happen like this but let's just roll with it."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x you #miguel atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv x you #miguel o'hara x fem!reader

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trrickytickle · 7 months

Text

You've Got The Face On

A/N: GWEN GWEN GWEN SPIDER-GWEN MELOVE!! She's actually one of my favorite lees in these movies but I hadn't done any fics. Anyhoo. I say this is for myself, but this is revenge for YOU!!! yes yes yes, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! THIS IS REVENGE FOR BEING SO NICE TO ME!!!!!!! One moment, Gwen's distraught at the fact she can't see the few friends she cherishes- especially the one who made her never take the risk of friendship again. The other, she's laughing on the floor at the touch of her new friends.

There was one place that could exist many Peter Parkers.

An array of many different versions of the nerdy kid bitten by a radioactive spider gathered in Miguel O'Hara's secret spider society- some more similar, some much too similar- (since when did he have a clone!?) and some bitten by a radioactive pig. So many Peters- yet none from Earth-63.

None were hers.

Gwen Stacy, for lack of a better word, was sulking. Familiar faces and familiar names held different memories and things to heart and she couldn't help it. She wanted her memories. The things she held near and dear. Unable to hold it, a strained sad sob slipped out the quiver of her lips under the gap in her teeth which bit back the same somber noise. The one other Spider-Man- not Peter- that she wanted to see more than anything in the multiverse, wasn't even invited. Forbidden- cast out by the same people he wanted to meet more than anything.

She tried to shake it off, drumming loudly over the strangely poetic sadness in her mind. The snares hid the sobs and stored away the anger, and as the beat built up- and up- and up and up and up- it stopped, with a clatter of drumsticks on the wooden floor.

She cried. She cried, and cried, and cried. Anguish was present in her low, demure voice, forming in the raspy calls from a closed throat, which recieved a catatonic response of spider chatter and futuristic ambience. The room was empty already, but it felt more hollow than it was. The cramped practice room for some silly soon-to-be band that won’t soon come to be because of her stupid social skills was now a cave where her distress lined the noiseless walls.

Gwen hiccupped, laying face-first on a tom as her tears pooled up. The cries grew loud, desperate and lonely - but all of a sudden, the plastic footsteps of Chuck Taylors paced her way, and inconsistent flecks of color glowed.

Hobie Brown. "Gwen." "Gweeeeen." "Gwen-dy!" "Gwendolyn!"

She choked back yet another sob, sitting up with tears welling in her eyes. Hobie walked over to her drum set, kicking away the drumsticks she held absentmindedly and taking off his mask to lend a snake-bitten smile, the sight of which made Gwen grin back apprehensively.

"So, wasson your mind? Gwen? Gwen?- Gwendy!!" Hobie bugged the girl, pulling at her hoodie and jabbing her in the ribs- the latter of which caused her breath to hitch not out of sadness but a reaction she couldn't deny. A small giggle escaped her- and on the inside of her heart, (seemingly made of stone- like a veneer on the inside to cover the softer side of the silly girl), she had hoped Hobie didn't care and continued crying, swallows and whimpers building this time out of gratefulness, practically enveloping the posh punk into a hug.

She wasn’t alone. Hobie still wasn’t quite who she was expecting, but that didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate him. The silent embrace, broken by only a few sobs was quickly cut off, when-

THWIP! THWIP!

"Gwen! What's wrong!?" Pavitr exclaimed. "I heard drumming- like, angry drumming- and then just like that- nothing, and you're crying. Oh, you're crying. Oh, Gwen!"

"...mmImissMiles..." she muttered. A whimper turned into a sniffle, and then a small well of tears dripping down her weary eyelids.

"Hey, hey, uh'know what he said, but- we’ll find a way.” Hobie said. “It’s really fookin’ rank- the fact you can’t see him.”

“Hey-” Gwen sniffled. “It’s not like you guys can help it.” Gwen averted her gaze, burying her head in Hobie’s denim jacket. “It’s just- it’s- I- I just… I never thought I’d make friends. But I did- and why do I lose them just as quickly!?” There was an aggressive prickle building with her tears. “I’m practically cursing you guys.”

”Gwen! Look at me!” Pavitr piped up. “I-I mean, look at you! You’re a blessing.” He shook the cold shoulders of the Ghost-Spider suit, while Gwen clung to the chest of Hobie’s buttoned jacket. “Miguel chose you! And even if you probably won’t see Peter again- Hobie’s probably going to find a way to voip Miles on in here!” The punk gave Pavitr a high-five, the resounding thwap! of palms making the corners of Gwen’s lips perk up into a small smile. At the sight, Pav smirked, a saccharine glint shining in his bright eyes…

”….Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwww, you’re smiling!” He coyly batted his eyes. “Mission accomplished, Hobie! Gwen’s smiling!”

Gwen giggled, averting his hyperbolic gaze. “Am not.” Her expression shifted to an ingenuine pout, shoving Hobie as she wiped her puffy eyes.

The punk inched forward to hold her tighter- in a constricting, friendly embrace- well, more of a suplex.

“Are too. C’mere, you.” As Hobie’s arms clenched tighter, Pavitr ran at Gwen and wrapped her into a (less bone-crushing) hug, coifed hair brushing at the Spider-Woman’s shoulderblade.

In that moment, the small band-room felt fuller than it was. The three stood squarely in the middle of the room, both boys squeezing Gwen tightly as to wring out the tears. She thought of practices and pranks and their faces after placing cling wrap on Miguel’s office door and how stupid they felt after remembering he had spider-senses and how much trouble they got in and Pavitr helping with her homework and Hobie being livid at her and Pavi for washing his favorite pair of crust pants and their songwriting sessions and —SQUEAL!!!

The warmth of nostalgia prickled into the cold jittery feeling of a squeeze from behind to the white-clad sides.

“Hey, hey, don’t, that really tickled.. Don’t!” Gwen attempted to shove Pavitr, who laughed in an infliction a little too evil for her liking. Hobie let out a small chuckle. Too. late. Both of her new friends had her surrounded, the one thing currently on their mind being to exploit this knowledge for all they could.

“Don’t? Y’take me for a pillock? You really expect us not tuh’ tickle you after you so frantic’lly announced y’r weakness? Keep hold of her.” Hobie told Pavitr, who poked where the armpits met the shoulderblades and played at the ribs. The punk’s umber hands were unintentionally strategically around her ribs and torso, resulting in both boys scheming to make her laugh until her ribs hurt- by targeting the area.

“Ehe-HEEyouguyssuck-yousucksomuch! A-haha-ha-ha-ha-ha!! Sto-hoooopit! Na-nnh!! Ha-hahaha-haha! Nnstoppit! StahahahaAAAA!!” Gwen writhed out of the spider-strength hold, thrashing so much as if it was a testament to her ticklishness, almost pushing Pavitr down on the hardwood floor.

“Oh, come on, Gwen! What’d you expect- like come ON!” Pavitr teased, immediately flipping Gwen over with the thwoop of a bangle, which spun her arms to the plywood.

“We’d toooooooootally wanna try.” He straddled her waist, digging his fingers into her midsection, made smooth and sensitive by the fibers of her costume.

Pavitr’s dextrous digits were tickling as fast and as sporadically as he could talk, and switching techniques faster than he could save face in front of Inspector Singh. He went from poking rapidly in areas which ignited a loud noise- something like “-SQUEEEEE!!-” , or “AH! NAHAhatthere!” or “Ple-HEEASE!”- to name a few, skittering lightly over skin which required only the lightest flit of fingers, making Gwen give out giggly, wheezy and awkward laughter. All while Hobie, sitting at her spider-webbed arms, was strumming in her exposed armpits as he would consistently copy the most complicated guitar riffs he knew, in total smug silence.

”HOBIE! hee-HEEH! GahahET OUTTA THERE!”

The punk mockingly traced at her pits, singing as if he were playing. “Destination uu~nknown-”

”NO-ho-HA!! Eeeee!” Gwen squealed, thrashing with every touch. The pleas she had uttered fell on deaf pierced ears.

“Ruby, Ruby, Ruby Soho… “

”You two-hoo—HA! Heh-hahaha-AAH!”

”What izzit, Berkley, m’trynna concentrate on playun th’ guitar!!” Hobie, preoccupied with yet another riff (underneath Gwen’s own admittedly adorable screaming laughter, she could make it out as Anarchy by Sex Pistols) spat sarcastically, earning a chuckle from Pavitr. Gwen thought Hobie had mercy on her for only a split-second, before she realized that he only freed his right hand from her hollow to high-five a poking and prying Pavitr… who smirked.

Pav never smirked- unless he was planning something (typically a crafty scheme or a juvenile prank.) He would smile. He’d beam. He’d even grin. But not a smirk. A smirk was when you knew you were fucked. And fucked Gwen was.

”No! No. Pav-PAVI. Do not touch the Conv-”

Her teal Chucks were practically thrown off by Pavitr, who smiled up at Hobie- and Gwen, indirectly, who gulped and let out a “meep!” Slowly (kinda-sorta for once), he’d drag his fingers up and down her socked feet, causing her to titter and resist- until they were lifted, little by little, revealing bits of her sheer nylons which he sent a barrage of quick fingers at. Eventually, due to Gwen’s tortured thrashing, the socks came off- and the floodgates opened.

”AAAAAAAH-hee-hee-hee-heehee-HyEEEEE! EEE-ahaha-huh-HUH-HA! AhahahA it’s so bad ICAN’T guysguysguys EEEEEEEEEEheeheehoohuh-hUHAHAH-HAAH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAAAA- wheezeAAAAAAHHhahahHHHHhahahhstoppitnotthefeetNNNGHHHHNGHheehee-h-”

Ghostly silent laughter. Gwen still thrashed, sides hurting from not the dirty trick her friends had played, and needing a serious breather. Thankfully, Hobie laid off on the picking and strumming and fretting and whatnot. Pavitr wasn’t so quick to catch on, but stopped a few seconds after him. She caught her breath, clutching her stomach covered in scars of phantom feelings.

It was laughable. Earlier that day, Gwen was griefstricken about the distance of her few peers, heartbroken and filled with longing. But now, she was wishing death upon the new connections she’d made- still feeling the barrage of chords on her armpits, shaking off the fact that her ticklishness could be taken advantage of anywhere, anytime, by anyone-

”Please don’t tickle me. Again, or like, ever.”

”Is that a challenge?” Pavitr said, quirking up an eyebrow. “I’d love to partake in such a thing, honestly. It’s fun seeing you-”

”I’m eating all your bhuja.” Gwen deadpanned. “Or leaving only the peas. Whichever’s worse.”

”Well I reckon we skip practice today. I got plenty of guitar in today.” Hobie smirked at Gwen, urging Pav to taunt her as well. “Isn’t that right, Gwendy-wendy-bendy-fendy-mendy-” They wriggled their fingers in her face, giggling at her pout and furrowed brow.

Gwen shook the thought creeping in her mind off. No. Not the time to think about that.

#tickling #tickle community #tword #tk fic #tickle fic

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