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luvrrszn · 3 months

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mean

REMUS LUPIN x FEM READER

summary full moon turns your remus into someone unrecognisable

warnings angst probably, probably inaccurate hp facts, bad writing, not proofread, probably a piece of trash i just needed it out of my drafts lol

a/n it has been SO long since i've written for hp so it's probably full of inaccuracies 😭 take everything with a grain of salt and PLEASE send in more requests ily

masterlist

james has a shit-eating grin on his face when you walk in.

“oh, bloody hell. what is it now?” you groan as you flop onto your boyfriend's, remus's, bed.

"wait till you see what pads did to snape's robes." james reveals, unable to contain his grin.

"oh c'mon, jamie. when are you guys gonna get tired of picking on him? you guys are gonna get in serious trouble one day, i'm tellin ya." you sigh as you try to find a comfortable position to sit in.

just then, the door swings open to reveal sirius and your beloved boyfriend, remus. sirius has his usual smirk, while remus looks a little downer than usual. you check the date on the calendar next to his bed and realises it's almost full moon.

he takes off his shoes and slides into his bed next to you. you snuggle up next to him, and he rests an arm around your shoulder.

"should we go to hogsmeade this weekend?" james suggests, and you nod, saying animatedly, "yes please. i need new quills, and i'd like to pop by honeydukes."

usually, remus chides you for the sheer amount of sugar you consume. this time, he remains silent. this is your first clue that something's wrong.

while james and sirius argue over nothing, you turn to face remus, eye full of concern. you ask, "remmy, are you okay? you've barely said a word all day."

"i'm fine," he replies. you're left puzzled, by the lack of endearment. but you decide not to push any further, turning your attention back to the book you had just picked off his nightstand.

"is that my book? why are you always touching my things?" remus snatches the book out of your hands, only to receive perplexed glances from james and sirius.

"oi, loosen up, moony. it's just a book, don't be mean." james stands up for you. so does sirius, saying, "yeah moony, don't be an arse."

remus just ignores them.

an hour passes, and so does about four different conversation between james, sirius and you. remus has barely spoken a word, and you're getting more and more concerned by the second.

"remmy, are you sure you're okay? are you feeling unwell?" you ask, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead.

"i'm fine, stop worrying," he says, curt. you're a bit shocked, by the tone he's taken with you and the way he barely looks at you.

"oh, merlin. do you ever shut up? all you do is talk and talk and talk. will you leave me alone for one bloody second?" remus snaps at you.

james and sirius immediately stop talking, and stare at remus in shock. remus worships the ground you walk on, never in a million years would they imagine him talking to you like this.

you're equally shocked yourself. you knew remus had a short temper around full moon, but his anger was never, never, directed towards you.

you get up from the bed and it takes everything for you to not cry in front of your friends. you say softly, "i think i'm going to go back to my room. goodnight, guys."

"dove, wait," remus calls out, his voice apologetic.

you pretend you don't hear him and walk out of the door, not looking back once.

—

when you push open the door to your dorm room, with tears streaming down your face, lily immediately beckons you over to her bed.

"oh, dear. what happened now?" she asks gently, holding you in her arms as she strokes your hair.

"boys are assholes." you grumble.

"tell me something i don't know." lily chuckles.

she holds you as you cry. she silently vows to not let remus near you any time in the next few weeks.

—

and just as she promised herself she would, lily had you surrounded with friends for the next few weeks, making it impossible for remus to reach you, or for you to reach him.

full moon had come and gone, and it killed you to know that you weren't there for remus while he went through it.

you weren't left to dwell on it for long, with all your friends always surrounding you, keeping you occupied.

remus, however, was left to stress over the fact that he hadn't been able to make it up to you, and not for a lack of trying. with lily and your friends around you round the clock, he never had an opportunity to approach you without death glares from four different girls.

his opportunity arises when you fall off your broom while playing quidditch.

—

"madam pomfrey, i'm fine, please, let me go back o—" you plead, only to be cut off.

"nonsense, dear. you need to be kept for observation. i won't have you go back out to play." she shakes her head, and disappears to tend to another student.

the door creaks open, and you see a familiar face poke in.

your boyfriend, whom you haven't spoken to in three weeks.

he has a sheepish look on his face as he sits down on the chair next to the bed you're lying on.

"dove, i'm so sorry. i shouldn't have snapped at you like that, especially not in front of our friends. i was stressed, but it's still no excuse for the way i treated you. i hope you can forgive me." he says, gently taking your hand in his.

you let out a sigh, saying, "it was really mean, remmy."

"i know, i know, dove. and i'm so, so sorry. i should have never spoken to you that way. I'll never speak to you like that ever again, swear. else you can chop my balls off, i swear." he replies, giving you a small smile.

"fine, remmy. but you're an absolute arse, i hope you know that."

"i promise you i do." he replies as he presses a kiss into your hair.

#📓—juniwrites #marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #harry potter

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luvrrszn · 4 months

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Ok, this request is….something. but i’ve thought about for some time and would really like if you write it (if you don’t think that it’s weird and you’re comfortable!)

Basically, it’s an angsty one with a happy ending. Gabriella, who is in high school, is scared of coming out to parents, F!Reader and Miguel. It gets to a point that she slowly starts withdrawing from them. and one day she breaks down. F!Reader and Miguel, who have been worried about their baby girl, ask her what’s wrong and she finally comes out.

They both so accepting and loving of her at her confession, and swear that they would never love her less for who she loves.

a/n: anonnnnnn :' i'm so sorry for taking so long with this, i was just really unsure of how to go about this topic, and i still very much am. (for reference this has been in my inbox for MONTHSSS) this one's a short one, i rlly hope i didn't butcher ur req :' (not proofread btw...) (p.s. SEND IN MORE REQS GUYSS I LOVE THEM SM HEHHEHEHE and any qns at all, to get to know me, anything! <3)

you've noticed the odd behaviour. the always-hiding-in-her-room, keeping conversations short, closed-off behaviour.

your usually cheerful, full-of-energy daughter had become quiet , keeping to herself most of the time. at first, you thought it was normal. she was in high school after all, and growing up. maybe she just needed her space.

so you left her alone.

but as the days passed, she became more and more withdrawn, a complete opposite of the daughter you used to know. you were getting worried, as was miguel.

"what do we do? she won't talk to us, she barely even acknowledges us!" miguel asks, pacing around your shared bedroom. you sit on the edge of your bed, hands in your lap. you too are at a loss. what can you do to make her open up?

recently, any time you tried to ask her about how she'd been or why she'd been acting strange, she'd brush it off and excuse herself from the room. you knew something was on her mind, but the question was, what exactly?

"you know what? let's go to bed, miggy. we'll talk to her at breakfast tomorrow. i think something's bothering her."

—

the next morning, you find your daughter sitting at the dining table, on her phone. you and miguel sit opposite her, and the moment she notices, she gets up to leave.

you say, almost sounding like you're pleading, "stay, gabi. please. we'd like to talk to you."

she reluctantly sits back down, folding her hands in her lap, lightly picking at the skin on her fingers.

"gabi, we're worried. what's going on with you? is something wrong?" miguel asks, his eyes filled with concern. he had hated seeing his poor daughter so quiet, almost as if she'd lost herself, and everything that made her her had been drained from her body.

"there's nothing going on, papá. you're just being paranoid." she replied, still looking down at her lap.

"gabriella, you know you can talk to us, right? if there's anything bothering you at all, just tell us." you say.

"okay, mamá." with that, she got up and left.

—

a week later, you're making gabriella's favourite meal for lunch. as you go to get her from her room, you hear the faint sound of crying. worried, you knock on the door and say, "gabi, i'm coming in."

you find her on her bed, tears streaming down her face as she hugs her knees to her chest. you immediately sit next to her and pull her in close, burying your face in the top of her head.

you press a kiss on the top of her head, saying, "gabi, what's wrong? tell mamá, please."

through sobs and hiccups, she finally says, "mamá, i'm gay, okay? i like girls. there's nothing wrong with me, it's not a phase, i—"

"oh, baby. it's that what's been bothering you this whole time? i love you, gabriella. and there's nothing you could do to change that. i don't love you any less because of who you love. i love you so, so much. thank you for telling me." you say, stroking her hair.

you didn't even realise that miguel had come in. you only noticed when he sat on the other side of gabi, and wrapped both of you in his arms.

"gabi, there is nothing that changes the fact that you are our daughter. as long as you are alive, we will love you. no matter who you choose to love, what you choose to do, we will always support you and love you, okay?" miguel affirms.

"i love you guys." gabi says, chuckling through a sob.

#📓—juniwrites #💌—requests #across the spider-verse #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse

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luvrrszn · 4 months

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hello! i would like to request a miguel x f!reader that’s a little…out there.

basically, miguel and reader have been trying for a baby for whileeee. natural, in vitro, all that, but nothing has been working. it puts a strain on their relationship and they are about to give up until reader begs him that they try one more time, and that’s when they get their little one

a/n: i'm soooo sorry for taking so long with this request, i've just been in a horrible slump lately :' i hope the anon who requested sees this :) xx

infertility.

the atmosphere in your house is perpetually tense.

for the past two and a half years, miguel and you had been trying for a baby. the both of you had tried several different methods, and in excruciating detail.

when the simple process of unprotected sex failed to get you pregnant, the two of you began tracking your ovulation. the process of making love to have a child together became a somewhat tedious process. this was the first sign of strain on your marriage.

after trying for almost eight months, the two of you started looking into in vitro fertilisation, or IVF. you threw yourself into researching good doctors and clinics, spending all your free time looking at reviews on said clinics. miguel did the same. at some point, the only topic of conversation between the two of you was IVF: doctors, clinics, success rates. another sign of strain on your marriage. too determined to find a way to have a child, the two of you didn't realise how much of a toll it was taking on your marriage.

when several rounds of IVF did not work, and the bills were piling up, you made the decision to stop trying through IVF. you were heartbroken, knowing how much miguel wanted a child of his own. you were thrown into a spiral, feeling that you had disappointed miguel, that you had let him down in some way.

for the past two and a half years, you suffered multiple miscarriages, never successfully delivering a healthy baby.

you were heartbroken that despite your efforts to get pregnant, you seemed to fail every time. you were by no means old, you were still at the age where you were able to have children. but for some reason, you still weren't able to get pregnant.

as you stared at yet another set of negative pregnancy tests on the sink counter, you turned to look at miguel sitting on the toilet bowl cover, resting his head in his hands.

"i'm so sorry miguel." you whispered.

without a word, miguel stood up and stormed out of the bathroom, and out of the house.

you were sad, hurt, and angry. all for a multitude of reasons. you were sad that you had let miguel down. you were sad that despite trying to hard, all your efforts were to no avail. you were hurt that instead of comforting you and acknowledging that both of you shared the pain, miguel left you all alone. you were angry that miguel did not seem to care much about you anymore. all he cared about was making a baby. not making love, not fucking, just the monotonous process of making a baby. neither love and tenderness, nor passion and lust.

that night, you made up your mind to stand up for yourself.

when miguel returned, you were sitting at the dining table, nursing a hot cup of tea. tea which apparently increased fertility. what bullshit.

"nice of you to return." you said, taking a sip of your tea.

"what do you want from me?" miguel sighed, taking off his shoes.

"i want you to treat me like your wife again, miguel. i want you to treat me like a person. i'm not just here for you to try and make a baby. and how dare you walk out on me today? you're not the only one who's disappointed, you know?" when you finished your sentence, you felt your heart drop, something you thought wasn't physically possible.

as you blinked, tears ran down your face. you didn't move to wipe them off.

the silence spoke volumes.

miguel closed the space between the two of you. gently wiping the tears off your face, he said, "mi corazón, i'm so sorry. there is no excuse for the way i have been acting. i should have talked to you about it, and i should have been there for you. i hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

the emotions you had been suppressing for so long came crashing down on you all at once. you said nothing in response to miguel, sobbing in his arms. he rubbed gentle circles on your back, pressing light kisses to the side of your head.

that night, you fell asleep wrapped in miguel's arms for the first time in what felt like a decade.

—

a week after your "fight", you were still in a terrible space, physically and mentally. you were exhausted to say the least. the countless miscarriages and the numerous failed attempts at conceiving a child were all piling up and slamming into you like a truck.

you were lifeless, tired, and you had just about given up. you and miguel had tried everything, and nothing worked. you had come to accept the fact that maybe, just maybe there was no more point on trying. you just had to accept the cards you'd been dealt.

you were tired of trying and trying, only to be disappointed every single time. you were tired of feeling guilty, like you had let down miguel, like you had robbed him the opportunity of the happy family he'd always wanted.

you knew how much it meant to him, but you were simply too exhausted to bear the weight of the constant disappointment and guilt.

so, you made up your mind to talk to miguel. to ask him to just consider that maybe it was time to give up. and that was exactly what you did.

that night, when miguel returned home, you sat him down at the dining table, and told him that the two of you needed to have a talk.

"miguel, i'm tired. i know all you want is a family, but i don't think i can do this anymore. i'm grumpy all the time, i feel like shit, nothing we've tried is working."

"but—" miguel cut himself off, swallowing. you knew he was against it. but you decided to keep quiet and wait for him to express his opinions. after a pause, miguel continued, "okay. querida, i want you to know that you could never, ever disappoint me. i am so, so proud of you for soldiering on til this point. i love you so, so much. but would you consider trying one last time? tonight? please."

miguel looked so hopeful that even you had a spark of hope. seeing no harm in agreeing, you said yes.

that night, before miguel lead you into the bedroom, you prayed to every God, that the two of you would be blessed with a little bundle of joy.

—

in the weeks following your last attempt at conceiving a child, you decided to focus on yourself, and take better care of yourself.

you began eating healthier, going on walks, sleeping earlier. you did everything you could to start feeling like yourself again.

you did things like make smoothies in the morning, cook more meals, and even took up painting.

life was starting to return to normal, and you felt the best you'd felt in months, years even.

you did everything right.

which is why you and miguel were so concerned when you started feeling fatigued, when your body started aching. when your favourite foods started tasting unpleasant, when there was always a persisting metallic taste in your mouth.

so you went to the doctor, who brought you news you'd never thought you'd hear.

—

"well, mr and mrs o'hara, congratulations. mrs o'hara, all these symptoms you've been experiencing are all common symptoms of early stages of pregnancy." the doctor beamed as she shared the news.

you were shocked, to say the least. you turned to miguel, and saw a sparkle in his eye, right before he swiftly picked you up and spun you around as you let out a laugh.

you carried on with the rest of your day with a bounce in your step.

—

the nine months blew by quicker than you'd expected. you had maintained your healthy eating and lifestyle, making sure to keep fit. you took prenatal supplements and vitamins, and did everything you could to make sure that you would safely carry your little bean to term.

miguel had converted the guest room into a nursery, built a crib, painted the walls, he did everything.

before you knew it, your little bundle of joy, your baby girl, was in your arms, sleeping. (not without an excruciatingly long labour, nothing less you'd expect of an o'hara baby).

miguel spent all his time buying new thingsfor your baby, and hovering over you, making sure that the both of you were safe at any given moment.

the struggle with infertility had been long and challenging, but the arrival of your daughter made every tear, every heartache, and every moment of uncertainty and disappointment worth it.

#📓—juniwrites #💌—requests #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spider-verse #atsv #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara fic #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara angst #miguel spiderman

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luvrrszn · 6 months

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broken promises, broken hearts

MIGUEL O'HARA x FEM READER

summary miguel o'hara, usually a man of his words, seems to break his promises to you very casually, leaving behind a broken heart

warnings angst, surprise pregnancy, unprotected sex (not explicit), asshole!miguel, not proofread

a/n idk anymore bro... requests plz i'm soo bored thanks baes

masterlist

you and miguel first started your "arrangement" when monthly spider-society dinners became a thing. how it became a thing? great question.

"lyla, we don't need to waste time on such frivolous matters like dinner events. spider-society was started to preserve the multiverse from any possible threat, not to have dinner parties." miguel grumbled.

"i told you, it'll boost morale. it'll also help you seem less...cold." lyla retorted, flickering on miguel's shoulder.

"i'm their boss, not their friend. get back to work, lyla."

"come on, miguel. it'll be beneficial for everyone, i promise." lyla was relentless, and miguel finally caved, groaning in exasperation, "okay, okay. can we get back to work now?"

miguel, needing a date to these frequent dinner events (or as lyla called them, dinner banquets), decided to ask you. his human assistant, the one he'd go to for help when he decided he'd had enough of lyla for one day. seeing no harm in agreeing, you said yes.

—

after a particularly stressful week, it was time for yet another dinner event. you wore an elegant maroon dress, with black pumps. miguel picked you up from your doorstep at 630pm, leaving the both of you with adequate time to get to the 7pm event.

now, you're sitting next to him in the car, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. it's been a few times since the first time you and miguel attended dinner events together, but somehow you always found a small part of yourself feeling nervous. you remember the first time you had met miguel.

"if you need anything at all, just call me. i will pick up, no matter what. any time, any place, just call."

the car comes to a stop, and miguel helps you out of the car. taking his hand, you step out of the car. as you step into the venue, you get goosebumps, the cold temperature against your bare arms. miguel notices, and takes off his jacket, placing it on your shoulders. you mutter a soft, "thank you."

—

after about three months of attending dinners together, the tension between the two of you grows. you can't deny that the two of you have chemistry, but you never act on it. he is your boss after all.

that's what you keep telling yourself. until one night, your self-control snaps.

and so does his.

the night ends with the two of you in his bed, your hands tangled in his hair and his name leaving your lips as what could be considered the dirtiest moan of all time.

the morning after goes like this:

you stir in miguel's bed, his sheets clinging to your body. next to you, he's still sound asleep, snoring snoftly. you turn to look at the clock on his bedside table. it's 5:08am. you get off the bed as quietly as you can.

you grab your bra and panties from the end of his bed and put them on, moving onto the hunt for your dress.

you find your dress on the floor next to the end of miguel's bed. you stare at it, your maroon dress resembling a puddle of spilt wine. snapping back into focus, you quickly pick it up and smooth it out. it's slightly wrinkled, but you put it back on anyway.

the spaghetti straps suddenly feel too much for you, and you become aware of every inch of skin that is exposed. not ready to face the judgemental stares of the people of nueva york, you grab a button up from miguel's closet and put it on over your dress. you take one last look at miguel, before grabbing your purse and slipping on your shoes.

with that, you disappear from his apartment.

—

you spend the rest of the weekend mulling over what you had done. of course, not without a tub of ice cream and your best friend, stacy.

you wail, "what have i done? he's my boss, for goodness' sake! how am i going to face him when i return to work?"

"stop beating yourself up over this!" stacy chides. "you weren't the only one who decided to have sex. he didn't trip over his own feet and accidentally stick his dick into you, did he?"

you let out a little laugh as you both shovel more ice cream into your mouths.

—

when monday comes, you find yourself nervous as you make your way towards your desk. you remind yourself that everything will be okay.

until you realise that everything is in fact not okay.

you find all your belongings packed into a small box. your sonny angel trinkets (or naked babies, as miguel called them), your coffee mug, your collection of highlighters. you look around, confused. what the hell is going on?

you find a piece of paper under the box, which reads, "from today onwards, your assistance will no longer be required at spider-hq. thank you for all your contributions. miguel o'hara"

a wave of emotions washes over you. you're angry, sad, in disbelief, and heartbroken at the same time. you can't believe you lost your job over a mutual decision. you had worked hard to get to where you were, and you love your job. you don't know if you want to laugh, cry, or throw something.

you settle on leaving quietly and peacefully. picking up your box, you take in your surroundings, knowing that this is probably the last time you'll ever step foot in this building again.

—

in the next few weeks that follow, you throw yourself into work, friends, parties, anything really, as long as it keeps your mind off the pain that miguel caused. you got a job at the bakery near your house, and you enjoyed spending your days baking and smelling of cinnamon and sugar.

you're too busy to realise that you've missed your period.

you start craving things like pickles and peanut butter. which might seem normal, but it's not. because you usually hate pickles and peanut butter, and avoid them at all costs. what's worse is that you want to eat them together. but you brush the weird cravings off, choosing not to overthink.

you only realise something's wrong when the smell fo everything makes you want to throw up. even your favourite food.

you call stacy in tears, and beg her to come over and pick up some pregnancy tests on the way.

—

she arrives not long after, and takes out three pregnancy tests, all from different brands. you take them and disappear into the bathroom without a word.

it's not long before the timer you set for three minutes is up. you press the stop button on your phone, and turn to your best friend.

"stace, i can't look at it. i just can't. can you help?"

she nods, walking down the hallway and into the bathroom.

"oh honey," she lets out a breath. she walks towards you as you ask, "are you sure? maybe it was a fluke, maybe—"

"all three were positive." she replies, and wraps you in her arms as you begin to cry.

you don't know what to do. there's nothing online for what to do when you're pregnant with your boss's baby, the boss who fired you one day after sleeping with you.

you tell stacy you're keeping the baby, and she promises that she'll do everything she can to support you.

you spend the rest of the night eating pickles and peanut butter while watching movies.

—

the following months go like this:

baby shopping — clothes

maternity clothes shopping

pay raise at the bakery

baby shopping — crib

baby shopping — more clothes

baby shower

promotion at the bakery

the next thing you know, you're 6 months pregnant, and your spare room has been transformed into the most beautiful nursery ever. the nursery is a coastal-beach theme, the murals on the walls and ceiling courtesy of your college friend, maisie. your college friends come over to help you build the crib, and stacy gets her boyfriend to build a chest of drawers to fit all the baby clothes she bought for the baby growing in you.

it's always busy at your apartment, with friends always over to provide support and companionship.

as your belly grows bigger, your heart grows fuller.

—

"have you found out the gender yet?" maisie asks, sipping her mimosa as she sits opposite you. you drink orange juice from a champagne flute, and reply, "yeah, i found out today. i'm having a girl!"

"so it really is a girls' night!" stacy jokes, nudging you with her elbow as you grin back at her.

you can't help but get lost in thought, thinking of what could've been. you just know that miguel would've been such a good girl dad.

you, maisie and stacy spend the rest of the night laughing and watching disney movies. they stay for the night, saying it's to "prepare you for the future slumber parties", but deep down you know they really just want to stay over. you laugh, grateful for the friends you have.

you wouldn't have it any other way.

—

"bye maisie, bye stace. get home safe!" you call out after your friends as they leave your home. they chime a "yes ma'am", and you lock the door once they disappear round the corner.

you go to your fridge, trying to find something to eat for breakfast. you settle on some fresh strawberries and a mug of tea. your water just finished boiling as the doorbell rings.

without a second thought, you open the door and say, "it's been five minutes, did you really—"

you fall silent when you realise it's not maisie or stacy at the door. instead, it's miguel o'hara. you acknowledge how shocked he must be, seeing you stand in your doorway in your pyjamas, hair in a bun, hand comfortably resting on your noticeably large belly.

you see a flicker of surprise, hurt and anger in his eyes. he remains silent, until you let out a soft "come in". he obliges, taking his shoes off once he enters. you sit down on the sofa, motioning for him to join you.

this time, he stays standing next to your dining table.

"so, whose is it?"

put off by his confrontational tone, you lose whatever semblance of patience you had. you bite back, "whaddya think, sherlock?"

"that's impossible," he lets out a gruff laugh of disbelief.

"well, i distinctly remember you sleeping with me the night before you fired me, and i don't think i'd get that mixed up."

"why didn't you tell me earlier—"

"why didn't i tell you earlier?" you lose your shit, yelling at him, "you literally fired me the day after sleeping with me. what was i supposed to do, show up at your doorstep and say, hey! i know you fired me, but i'm pregnant, so now you gotta do something about it! how the hell was i supposed to tell you, and why the hell would i?"

you're out of breath by the time you finish yelling at him.

"i don't know what to say." miguel finally lets out a huff. "i don't know what to do."

"firstly, you could stop white-knuckling my dining table. it looks like it's about to break. then, you can sit down so we can talk about this." you sigh. you're tired of being angry. you rest your hand on your belly as your little angel kicks you.

miguel sits down next to you, and asks, "do you have a sonogram?" you nod, reaching over to rifle around in your totebag, producing a sonogram. miguel takes it from you gently, and looks at it. he hunches over, his face in his hands. you move closer to him, rubbing a gentle hand on his back.

"i'm so, so sorry." he whispers.

"it's okay." you reply, continuing to rub his back.

sure, it was unfair how you lost your job. but you were happy now, surrounded by family and friends. what use was there to dwell in the past? so you decided to move on. after all, there's only one direction to move in when you've hit rock bottom: up and onwards.

miguel gathers himself, rubbing his face with his hands before turning to you.

"i'd like to be there for you. i'm so sorry for what i did, there's no excuse for what i did."

"before i say anything, i'd like to know why you came over today. why today? " you reply.

"i was going through a tough time. i needed to sort myself out before coming to see you. before coming to ask if you'd would take me back. or rather, go out with me."

you were left in disbelief. you would never think that after six months, miguel o'hara would visit your apartment to ask you to go out with him.

you could tell that he was getting more nervous with every second of silence that passed. you decide that even though miguel screwed you over, you would give him a shot, and give your baby a chance at having happy, loving parents.

you finally break the silence.

"yes. to both."

—

two years later...

miguel o'hara is the best girl dad ever. your daughter is absolutely obsessed with him. you suspect she likes him even more than she likes you.

actually, you know she does. her first word was "dada", before she proceeded to burst into tears because miguel handed her to you.

now, you sit on the sofa, watching as your almost-two-year-old daughter shows miguel her new dolls. miguel proposed almost two weeks ago, but you still aren't certain if it was all a dream.

that night, as miguel settles into bed next to you after putting your daughter to bed, he puts an arm around you. stroking your hair gently, he whispers in your ear.

"in every universe, it's always you. only you."

#📓—juniwrites #miguel ohara #atsv #across the spider-verse #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara fic #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara x reader

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luvrrszn · 7 months

Text

“ masterlist ”

all 18+ fics are marked with a "*"

✩ MIGUEL O'HARA (across the spider-verse)

AUGUST || you knew miguel wasn't ready for commitment. but you would take anything you could get. even if things didn't end well.

POV || miguel o'hara is in love with you. so hopelessly in love with you. (spoiler alert: you are, too.)

and they were roommates * || miguel o'hara is your roommate, and then he's more than that

broken promises, broken hearts || miguel o'hara, usually a man of his words, seems to break his promises to you very casually, leaving behind a broken heart

intertility. || you and miguel struggle with conceiving. (request)

✩ BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW (top gun: maverick)

this is how you fall in love || just you and rooster, forever

✩ REMUS "MOONY" LUPIN (harry potter; marauders era)

mean || full moon turns your remus into someone unrecognisable

#📓—juniwrites #luvrrszn

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luvrrszn · 7 months

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and they were roommates *

COLLEGE ROOMATE!MIGUEL O'HARA x FEM READER (18+)

summary miguel o'hara is your roommate, and then he's more than that

warnings [all sexual themes are at the bottom end of the post] explicit/18+ (smut), unprotected sex, dom!miguel, not proofread

a/n (gif posted originally by @/cantstoptheimagines, can't figure out tumblr's gif shit so i'm doing this instead, hope that's okay :)) guys i'm so bad at writing smut please go easy on me also if u have requests PLEASEEE send them in i'm so bored

masterlist

"oi! you left your panties on the countertop again, you goblin! take it back!" miguel yells at you from your shared bathroom.

"my bad." you mumble, a piece of toast in your mouth as you shuffle into the bathroom, in a hurry to grab your underwear off the marble countertop.

miguel watches, amused, as you scramble to get your things together before your 8am class. it's 7:48am, and it takes you at least 15 minutes to drive to campus, and that's if you make every green light on your way there.

you're lacing up your sneakers by the door as miguel pours himself a cup of coffee. he walks over to shut the door behind you after you leave. as you run down the hallway to the elevator, he calls out after you, "buy some juice on the way back, we're out of that."

you give him a thumbs-up before disappearing around the corner.

—

you're cooking your favourite homemade meal—pesto pasta. turning off the stove, you turn around to grab a bowl from the shelves. when you turn back around, you see miguel hunched over your pan of pasta, mouth stuffed with food. YOUR food.

you slap him away from the pan, as he feigns hurt, "ow, ow, that hurts. now you gotta give me pasta to make up for it."

"you ate two bowls of instant noodles already, how are you still hungry? get away, boy." you swat his fork away.

"c'mon, please?"

you roll your eyes and give in.

you were never truly going to say no to miguel o'hara. you had cooked enough for two because you knew this was going to happen, and you knew you weren't going to say no to miguel.

—

"miguel! stop using my shampoo! and my lotion! you know they're super expensive, get your own!" you yell at him from the bathroom, inspecting the fullness—or now, emptiness of your body care products.

"hey, mami, what can i say? those are the real deal." he replies, barely looking away from his laptop.

"yeah, and they cost a shit ton. stop using my stuff and go back to your nasty 30-in-1 soap or whatever." you huff, glaring at miguel angrily.

—

saturday evenings are spent at the dining table going over the grocery list, preparing for your weekly sunday grocery runs.

saturday nights are spent on the sofa in the living room, watching a movie.

sunday mornings are spent at the grocery store, wandering down the aisles even though you've been there every sunday for the past year and a half, ever since you moved in with miguel after a mutual friend introduced the two of you upon finding out you were both looking for a roommate.

sunday noons are spent unpacking the bags of groceries, which more often that not contain bags of junk food that miguel somehow managed to sneak into the cart.

sunday afternoons are spent doing laundry. miguel loads the washing machine while you handwash the delicate pieces that require extra care. afterwards, you toss what can be put into the dryer into the dryer while miguel hangs up the rest of the clothes to dry. then, the two of you settle into a comfortable routine of folding laundry.

that's just how it was. every week, without fail.

—

the moment you fell for miguel was when you caught a horrible cold and he took care of you.

despite you trying to shoo him away multiple times, he never gave up.

"come on, princesa. you're sick, let me help you."

"i look like a hot mess right now, miguel. just leave me alone, i'll be okay." barely finishing your sentence, you broke out in a fit of coughs and wheezes.

"no can do. you're sick, so get your ass back into bed. i'll bring you some chicken soup, so for now, just rest." miguel replied, placing a bottle of water and some cold medicine on your bedside table.

when he returned, he found you curled up in your bed, duvet tucked under your chin. he placed the bowl of soup on your bedside table, before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, only to realise that you were burning up.

"take your meds, princesa. you're running a fever."

with his help, you washed your fever medicine down with a gulp of water. then, you snuggled back under the duvet. when miguel turned to leave, your hand shot out from under the duvet, grabbing his wrist. you croaked out a "stay".

without a word, miguel got into bed next to you, slipping his arm under your head. you curled into his chest, falling asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart beating.

—

the moment miguel fell for you was when you left to visit family during summer break and he opened the refrigerator to find each shelf lined with containers of food.

you had left that morning, hand gripping your suitcase handle as you said to miguel, "try not to die, finding a new roommate with such short notice would be hard."

miguel grinned and flipped you the bird as you turned around and disappeared down the hallway to the elevator. closing the door behind him, miguel beelined for the refrigerator. maybe there was some yogurt he could have for a quick breakfast.

upon opening the refrigerator, he found that each shelf was packed containers of home-cooked meals, all prepared by you. well, that answered the question of why the apartment smelled so good when he got home last night.

there were containers of pasta, rice, chicken, salad, whatever you could think of, it was there. turning around, miguel spotted the sticky note you had left on the kitchen island. he picked up the light pink sticky note and read your note.

"seriously though, miggy. try not to die. i'd be a little sad if you did."

he couldn't help but let out a little chuckle.

—

you are the one who first confesses your feelings. on saturday night, after movie night, you gather all your courage and say, "miguel, look, i-i have to tell you something. and when i do, or even after i do, i need you to promise you won't hate me."

miguel's heart is racing. worries fill his head and his heart, and he can't help but wonder if you are going to tell him that you want to move out. he takes a deep breath, and replies steadily, "i could never hate you. go ahead, princesa."

you turn to look at miguel, and you say, "you're my best friend, and there's nothing i wouldn't do for you. you know that, right?" he nods.

taking in a shaky breath, you continue, "i like you. and it's okay if you don't feel the same way. i can't remember a time where i didn't know you, and i'm not sure i want to either. so if you don't feel the same way, can we at least still stay—"

"shut up," miguel cuts you off.

you're taken aback, stammering, "w-what?"

"just shut up," miguel repeats as he moves towards you, encasing your lips with his. you let out a slight gasp, and miguel takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

the kiss is everything you've imagined and more. it's hungry and passionate, but also gentle and reassuring. words were no longer needed; words weren't enough for miguel to express how much he liked you back.

you let miguel take control. you surrender, savouring every moment of the kiss.

and it leaves you breathless.

—

from that night on, nothing much changes. but at the same time, everything changes.

your weekend routines remain the same, but throughout the week, there's sex. so. much. sex.

miguel's sex drive is crazy, and you can barely keep up. not that you're complaining.

"miguel," you let out a breathy moan. your left hand is tangled in his hair, your right hand littering his back with scratches. miguel fucks you relentlessly, pulling his hips back and slamming into you in one fluid motion.

his hands slide downwards towards your nipple, and he toys with them, tugging gently and rubbing them between the pad of his thumb and his index finger. one of his hands slides even further downwards, and traps your clit. he rubs slow circles on it, drawing a moan past your lips.

his coordination is crazy, and you're stimulated in all the right places.

miguel senses that you're near your climax, and he speeds up, slamming into you with such tenacity that you almost believe he's in such a rush because the world might be ending in two seconds.

miguel goes faster, rougher, deeper, helping you chase your finish. the knot in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens—then it snaps. you scream miguel's name as you cum all over his cock and go limp, seeing stars from what you think might have been the best orgasm of your life.

still deep in you, miguel feels every contraction of your pussy around his cock. you tighten around him, and after two more strokes of his hips, you're milking his cock for every drop of his cum.

out of breath, you lay there on the bed while miguel cleans up the mess on the bedsheets.

—

that afternoon, as you take out the trash, you bump into your next door neighbour, mrs palma. she looks and you and chuckles, "glad the two of you finally got together, but keep it down, wouldya, sweetheart?"

you turn as red as a tomato.

#📓—juniwrites #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #across the spider-verse

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luvrrszn · 7 months

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this is how you fall in love

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW x FEM READER

summary just you and rooster, forever

warnings fluff fluff fluffy fluff not proofread !

a/n pls send me a man like rooster thanks

masterlist

the night bradley first met you, he knew one day you two would share a home filled with love and laughter.

despite the dim lighting of the bar and the crowd of people, you still catch bradley's attention from the very moment he steps into the bar. you're dancing with your best friend next to the jukebox, a grin plastered on your face. you're wearing a short red dress, the skirt of your dress swishing around you as you move to the rhythm to the music.

bradley can't help but stare. no one notices, except penny. she rests her forearms on the bar, leaning forward. she says, "she's single, you know. go shoot your shot." he smirks slightly, then turns to look at you, catching your gaze.

usually, when you're caught staring, you immediately look away. but with the help of a little liquid courage, you hold bradley's gaze, refusing to look away first. he stares at you and you stare back, even as he gets up from his seat at the bar and makes his way over to you.

"hey, gorgeous. i'm bradley, but everyone calls me rooster. can i buy you a drink?" he says, staring into your eyes. you'd be a fool not to accept. you were many things, but definitely not a fool.

"that would be wonderful." you tell him, smiling. you tell him your name and follow him to the bar.

throughout the course of the night, bradley learns your favourite colour, why you're in town, and most importantly your number.

"call me." you say, pressing your lips to his cheek after he drops you off at your doorstep that night. bradley replies with a "yes ma'am" and watches you fumble with your keys. his hands are stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he leans against his car, waiting for you to make it back into your apartment safely.

only when you lock the front door behind you does bradley drive off.

—

the very friday the next week, bradley takes you out for dinner. he knocks on your front door at 630pm sharp, with ample time for you to make it for your 7pm reservation.

with a reservation at one of the best restaurants in town, you made sure to dress your best. you wore a long black dress, which hugged your body in all the right places. your hair was pulled back into a sleek low bun, your lips painted dark red. you looked pretty, and most importantly, you felt pretty.

bradley lets out a low whistle as you do a little spin for him. your cheeks flush as smile softly. you hold onto his forearm for balance as you put on your heels, and the whole scene feels oddly domestic.

strangely enough, you didn't mind. you had only met bradley once before, but the two of you had talked throughout the week, and you already felt comfortable with him.

"what are you smiling so happily about?" bradley chuckles, snapping you out of whatever fantasies you were thinking about.

"nothing." you reply, but your grin remains on your face.

—

the moment you realised you were in love with bradley was around the time where you were 3 months into dating. it had starting raining during your lunch date, so to shield you from the rain, bradley put his zip-up hoodie on your shoulders and used his body to shield you from the rain.

once you made it to the car, he opened the car door for you, and closed it behind you like a true gentleman. then, he walked back to the sidewalk. curious, you stared in his direction. you watched as he bent down and started picking things up from the sidewalk and moving them into the trimmed grass next to it. he was picking up....worms?

five minutes later, he came back running to the car.

"sorry for keeping you waiting, babe."

you didn't really know what to say, so you just replied, "it's okay. the worms...looked like they needed help."

"thanks, i knew you'd understand." he grinned as he started the engine.

—

the moment you knew you were going to marry bradley occurred when you were at mav and penny's for dinner. you had dropped something on the floor, and bent down from your seat on a chair to pick it up. without batting an eye, bradley put his hand over the sharp corner of the table, while continuing to talk to mav.

that very moment, you knew that you were going to marry him someday. you knew he was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. being with him felt natural, like it was the way things were meant to be.

no matter what happened in life, at some point the two of you were meant to argue over whose apartment to move into.

the two of you were meant to squabble over what colour the bathroom towels for your new shared apartment should be.

the two of you were meant to walk down the aisles of a supermarket to look for the nicest-smelling detergent.

the two of you were meant to squabble over things like the toilet seat being left up. (bradley learnt his lesson after that fight. the toilet seat was always left down. whatever you wanted, you got.)

the two of you were meant to sit at the dining table with cups of tea, going over your grocery list for the week.

and that was exactly what the rest of you life with bradley "rooster" bradshaw was like.

#📓—juniwrites #top gun maverick #tgm #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #this is a cry for help #i'm kidding #but please lmk where i can find a guy like rooster #this is so bad idek why i'm posting it #i should probably sleep

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luvrrszn · 8 months

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pov

MIGUEL O'HARA x FEM READER

summary miguel o'hara is in love with you. so hopelessly in love with you. (spoiler alert: you are, too.)

warnings fluff, pure tooth-rotting fluff, just a bunch of blurbs put together, NOT proofread

a/n feeling peaceful 2day love u all xx (p.s. wrote this listening to "pov" by ariana)

masterlist

mornings with miguel o'hara can only be described using one word: peace.

you'd never think that "peace" would be a word associated with miguel o'hara, but once you've experienced what you have, you wouldn't see it any other way.

miguel is protective of his mornings with you. being such a busy man, mornings with you are sacred.

"can we sleep in a little longer?" you mumble against his chest, almost every morning. his answer is always the same: "of course, my dear."

how could he ever say no to you?

—

you set your phone down on the kitchen island as you go to grab a glass of water. miguel's gaze leaves his laptop as he glances at your phone screen.

your phone was left unlocked, an instagram post of your high school classmate with a gigantic diamond ring displayed on it. miguel asks you, "mi corazón, does it bother you? we have been together for 8 years, and no ring."

"hmm, not really, miggy. does it bother you?" you reply, setting your glass down as you approach miguel.

"no, but if you did, it would be understandable."

you walk closer to him and he wraps an arm around your waist. you settle down on his lap and stroke his hair, saying, "i don't need a ring to prove that i love you. ring or no ring, we both know that i am yours, forever."

—

you wake up to the sound of giggling and a thud of something falling to the floor. you drag yourself out of bed and down the stairs. your daughter is giggling as she runs around the living room, being chased by miguel who's holding a...bottle of pink glitter?

a chair at the dining table has toppled over, the culprit behind the "thud" you heard earlier. the dining table has a piece of A3 drawing paper on it, covered in pink glitter glue, light pink sequins and dark pink and purple fairy dust. you've never seen so much pink in your life.

"the glitter monster is coming for you!" you hear miguel call out. you turn around just in time to see miguel pick up your daughter and carry her over his shoulder. she giggles, "papá, put me down!"

you look at the line of photo frames on top of the fireplace, a mere representation of the time that has passed since you first met miguel o'hara

there's a photo of you and miguel in a dark, crowded bar. the night you two met.

there's also photo of you and miguel in front of the eiffel tower. the night of your 5th anniversary.

there's a photo of you and miguel in a chapel in vegas, both of you grinning, his arm slung over your shoulder. the night the two of you were married by an elvis impersonator.

there's also a photo of you in the hospital, miguel grinning next to you, and the most perfect baby girl bundled in your arms. the night your baby girl entered the world.

last but not least, there's a photo of you and miguel slightly hunched forward, with your daughter in between the two of you, holding a huge bouquet and grinning. the day of her very first dance recital.

by the end of the day, your little angel's pink artwork takes its place above the fireplace, joining the array of photo frames.

#📓—juniwrites #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara fluff #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman atsv #atsv #across the spider-verse #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader

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luvrrszn · 9 months

Text

august

MIGUEL O'HARA x FEM READER

summary (a songfic based on "august" by taylor swift) you knew miguel wasn't ready for commitment. but you would take anything you could get. even if things didn't end well.

warnings mainly angst, a sprinkle of fluff, unrequited love (somewhat), mentions of sex (non-descriptive), non-descriptive reader, untranslated spanish (mostly pet names)

a/n my first fic ! i'm so nervous, but i hope whoever's reading this will enjoy it :) wasn't sure if the mention of sex required this fic to be marked 18+ as it's not descriptive, so i just left a warning. if there are any issues with my poor use of spanish, please let me know. and if you enjoyed it, please interact <3

masterlist

Salt air, and the rust on your door I never needed anything more Whispers of "Are you sure?" "Never have I ever before"

Miguel O'Hara was a complicated man. You knew that from the very moment you met him. He made sure you knew that. Right before he kissed you for the first time, he said, "I am not a good man, cariño. You know that right?" You shut him up by planting your lips onto his.

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine

"Mi corazón, are you free for lunch?" Your sweet Miguel would text you everyday, and without fail the two of you would enjoy lunch together. To that you replied, "For you, I am always free." Not long after, he would arrive at the doorstep of your workplace, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand. You would wrap your arms around his neck and he'll pull you by your waist into a tight embrace.

"The flowers are beautiful, Miggy."

"Only the prettiest flowers for the prettiest woman." Miguel would reply, wrapping a hand around your waist as the two of you headed off to find a place for lunch.

You saw him every day, and day after day he would bring you flowers without fail. Miguel O'Hara would make sure you knew just how special you were. After a while, you thought that there might even be a spark of love. After all, his actions only proved your theory true.

But Miguel O'Hara's "love" was unstable.

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

Days where the two of you were tangled in bedsheets, cuddling after sex were long gone. You eventually settled for a kiss on the forehead after Miguel cleaned you up, before Miguel slipped out of your bedroom window.

Your back beneath the sun Wishin' I could write my name on it

After a particularly tiring mission, Miguel had come to seek relief. After a bliss-filled night, he rolled onto his back beside you and soon fell asleep. You couldn't help but smile as you glanced at his peaceful face. The world seemed to stand still when you were with him.

When you woke the next morning, Miguel's face was buried into his pillow, with him still sound asleep. The sun filtered in through the window, illuminating Miguel's broad shoulders and back. Scratches littered his back, evidence from the night before. How you wished you could write your name on his back, just so everyone knew who he came to during the night.

Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinkin' I had you

Every time you closed the door or window after Miguel, you'd call out, "Text me, okay?"

"Will do, muñeca." That was his standard reply. But he never did.

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

Then, Miguel asked you out for lunch less and less. Coupled with the reduced frequency of Miguel's late-night visits, all you were left with was memories. Most nights you spent settled on your couch with a glass of wine, thinking of what life was like when Miguel was just hopelessly infatuated with you.

What good times those were. Now all you had was the memory of.

Back when we were still changin' for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough

You don't know when exactly you started grasping at threads. Grasping for slivers of Miguel's affection. You convinced yourself it was enough. His affection was enough.

To live for the hope of it all Cancel plans just in case you'd call And say, "Meet me behind the mall"

You knew you were hopelessly falling for Miguel when you cancelled your Friday night plans for the mere chance of him dropping by. You waited and waited, your phone on the coffee table as you looked at it. That night, he never called.

So much for summer love and saying "us" 'Cause you weren't mine to lose You weren't mine to lose, no

Fighting with Miguel was the one thing you hated the most.

"I feel used, Miguel! You're never around, you only come for sex. I'm a person too, you know!" Your eyes stung from trying to hold back tears.

"We are not, and we were never in a relationship. We never will be either. I've made that clear multiple times." He said calmly. Somehow it hurts more than it would have if he yelled.

He delivered the final blow. "There is no "us", and there never will be."

You then faced the harsh reality. Miguel O'Hara was never yours, and never yours to lose.

You recalled the times with Miguel, but this time without the hope of something more. This time, a bittersweet feeling filled your heart. You told yourself you would cut him off.

But do you remember? Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car" And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call? Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all "Meet me behind the mall"

Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car" And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call? Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all (for the hope of it all)

For the hope of it all For the hope of it all (For the hope of it all) (For the hope of it all)

Yes, you told yourself you would cut him off. But your resolve always crumbled whenever you saw him standing outside your door. You caved, and let him into your apartment.

It fell back into a routine, with you just living for the hope of it all.

#📓—juniwrites #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fic #atsv #across the spider-verse #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara oneshot #Spotify

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