Tumgik
#spiderman x reader angst
hanasnx · 6 months
Text
PETER PARKER uses his spider-sense to get out of all sorts of awkward situations. If there’s an uncomfortable circumstance he can exit by loftily looking out into the distance and irish-goodbye-ing, he’s taking it.
Unfortunately for him, you’ve caught on to his ruse. It’s impolite to cry wolf, and you’ve learned his tells between a real emergency and an act to save his dignity.
One particular example stands out of the rest. You and him had broken it off months ago, but had finally agreed to be friends. A platonic hang-out between two adults. That’s possible, right? Apparently not. You fell into old habits, and you could pick out how he sweet talked you, but you let him. It felt so good to be seen by him, felt so good to talk to him. That spark between the two of you still remains, and it’s cause for his peculiar behavior when your gaze lingers on his. A exchange of heated eye contact, coming down from innocent snickering over an inside joke, morphs into a familiar dance. You see the thought process in his eyes, practically witness the neurons fire off to decide his next move. He inclines, and you’re drawn to him.
A single finger presses to his subtly puckered lips, halting him, and separating the two of you. “Peter… I can’t.”
It’s a serious moment, it told you everything you needed to know. How you weren’t ready for friendship with him, how unapologetic he was in disregarding the boundary at first. At least until he was caught. “Ah, you’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry.” sheepishly, he concedes, recoiling as his hand finds the back of his head.
You take notice of how he slows, the recognition in his countenance, and the descent of his arm. He faces the side, a faraway look to the horizon, a crease to his brow. You press your lips into a thin line.
All heartfelt empathy hardens into stone as you deduce exactly what he’s doing. “You are not seriously pulling this right now.”
Like a lawn chair, he folds. Shameful as he bows his head in a nod. “Yeah, okay.” His ticket out of living in the moment with the consequence of his action dissipates before him. He kicks the dirt, placing his hands on his hips as he condemns himself for trying to get out of this. Guiltily, he accepts his punishment of remaining here with you as a dark cloud looms over your company.
253 notes · View notes
charg3rs0ck3t · 1 year
Text
Anti-heroism
(Alt title- “Save me?”)
TASM! Peter Parker x (vigilante) reader
Tumblr media
Warnings: slight angst, mentions of domestic crimes, reader kills someone (not too graphic), almost death, knives, it’s really fucking long, some fluff.
((Unedited))
———————————————————————
Not everyone is worth being saved.
———————————————————————
The first time you really met Spiderman, your hands were around his neck. You were slowly tightening your grip, but, as you looked up to watch the life leave his eyes, something you had eagerly awaited, you stopped as he began to mumble.
You knew that voice.
God fucking damnit.
———————————————————————
You hated heroes. Hated how they were considered salvations to a broken society. Maybe if the rich gave a shit the divide wouldn’t be so great.
Society is run off greed.
And yeah, sometimes the rich do give a shit, you weren’t saying thats the prime evil, the problem comes when assholes use chaos and desperation to make quick cash.
New York City was a prime example of the cesspits designed by and for humanity. In the beginning, there was no night that went by without the sound of an ambulance and a hearse in pursuit with last nights leftovers.
Now they just skipped the ambulance and went straight in with the hearse.
The city chewed people up and spat them out dead.
Heroism is dangerous. It is a false alias for mass destruction and major loss of life, and yet claims to be for the good of the people. A core of wickedness, hidden in a faux utilitarian shell. A being not whole unless causing harm and calling themself in favour of those who they massacre.
Heroism is a plague of the mind, but it doesn’t acquaint to the evil it fights. In concept, the idea was perfect. That’s where you came in.
Neither hero nor villain, but one who admits and atones to their wrongs without a need to do so. You had no image to uphold, doing what was right and paying the cost that took.
At least.. at least until you decided to catch the attention of the ‘local hero’.
———————————————————————
Growing up in New York City had its perks, one such being direction. But it was still a big city, things where constantly changing, so it wasn’t uncommon for you to drop into an alley a block or so over from your intended destination.
Usually, this was fine, however how were you to react when you come face to face with The Spiderman adjusting his costume and packing away casual clothes into a duffle.
Clearly, he didn’t know either because as he seemed to be adjusting the material at his shoulders, he turned a caught a glimpse of you.
There you two stood, at a stale mate, perfectly acquainted through previous minor conflicts and slightly contrasting morals. He began to panic, it was dreadfully obvious when all he could seem to do was gape like a fish.
“Don’t worry spider-boy, knowing what you look like would take all the fun out of it!” You exclaimed, turning your back and walking away, chuckling to yourself as you scale a wall onto another building. Hoping to finally enjoy some peace.
What you didn’t expect however, was for him to follow you.
“Where are you going?” He said, trailing just behind you. He didn’t exactly know why he had followed you up here, but you confused him so and he was intrigued.
Peter knew he was no distinguished labelled hero, Hell, he was reminded by the papers every day. He knew and he accepted that, but he had every intention to be one, no matter what.
You however, you perplexed him. You seemed to hate the evil in the city, and so you did something about it. But you hated being called a hero, you didn’t do anything by the book. In fact there were times Peter found your methods barbaric and oddly personal.
He had watched you beat the literal shit out of your fair share of criminals, but you’d really let it out in cases of domestic crimes. For being so violent, you were so passionate and so caring to victims.
But you just didn’t want to be a hero. Trust that he knows that, he’s asked you on multiple occasions and that black eye from the last time he snuck up on you still aches on occasion.
“None of your business.” You retaliated to him tiredly, soon following with a yawn. You were exhausted, Rightfully so however. You had been parading around since your class ended and it was almost 11 PM by now.
All you wanted to do was get home, finish your coursework, take a bath and sleep.
But here you were, with an eyesore in tight spandex on your ass. You couldn’t go home with him tailing you, so you’d have to go horizontal to your apartment. Sitting on some random roof and hanging your legs over a darkened alley.
Hoping to have lost him, you glanced over your shoulder, only to see him staring at you from across the roof. You sighed, getting out some protein bar and opening it. Eating away as you stared into the busy streets.
The city truly never slept and amongst the ugliness and sorrow, the chaos and twinkling lights seemed ever beautiful and you smiled at the thought.
“Why do you do it?” He muttered as he sat next to you. Getting a hum in response only prompted him to continue. “I mean, you say you hate the city, that you’d leave it first chance you have.. but somewhere in there you must love it, or you wouldn’t do this, put yourself in danger just for the innocent.”
“That’s a dark way of looking at it Spider-man, I thought you were meant to be this place’s glimmer of light!” You laughed a little, majorly just trying to release the harsh tension. “It’s not the city, it’s the people, it’s the people who this place don’t deserve. I think no matter where I was I would have ended up like this because people need something to believe in.”
“Superhero speech! That was totally a superhero speech don’t even deny it! I got it all down!” He yelled accusingly but in a light tone, pointing at you. It was fond, as if you were just two old friends bantering with each other. Even if you did push him off the roof in response with a loud ‘would a superhero do this asshole!?’
But you knew he would catch himself, that he expected it was coming.
You hated heroes, but this one just seemed to be the exception.
———————————————————————
Peter was a sweet boy, respectful, but he was pained.
You could tell he was always hiding a deeper pain, sorrow he never let himself truly feel, sorrow he may never cure himself of.
He was your best friend, a shining ray of hope even through all the dirt, but even the brightest rays where darkened and scarred by the ugly smog that was the city.
Every time you talked to him, every happy moment, he never seemed to let himself truly enjoy it. He seemed to live in the future but always worry about the present.
How can one hope to fix the present if they treat it as the past? Simple answer, you can’t.
———————————————————————
It was another night in New York, even the lume of the many billboards couldn’t shine upon every shadowed corner. So, evil continued in the darkness.
You already hadn’t been having a great day, your job had double booked you for 2 meetings and you had spent hours being yelled at for trying to point out the issue. Plus, you had to miss one of your lectures because the meeting went over by an hour. So really you were just sick of today, wanting nothing more than to curl up at home with a bottle of wine and some shitty tv.
But, unfortunately for you, one of the gangs you’ve been trailing, notedly unsuccessfully, for the past month finally left a huge clue. They would be sending out another shipment tonight, dabbling in special enhancement drugs that made most people go insane.
So here you were, sat on a rooftop watching some goons bicker in-front of the entrance of the warehouse. You were calculating how long until the anonymous tip you’d send to the police would take to dispatch. Either way you had a good Fifteen minutes before anyone came running.
At least, that was until Spiderman decided to grace you with his presence. A presence that you really didn’t need right now, especially when already peeved off.
“What are we doing?~” He whispered mockingly, getting a glare in retaliation. But, not content with that answer he repeated the question again.
“Oh lord give me patience, or atleast a fucking knife.” You muttered to yourself. “ ‘we’ are doing nothing, you, you are going to leave me alone and go save another cat from a tree and I, I am going to go actually make a change in this city.”
He just laughed and shook his head at your response, “oh cmon! Why can’t we be partners! An iconic duo! Like Batman and Robin, Bonnie and Clyde or something!”
“We are not going to be either of those thi- wait shut up for a second.” He began to open his mouth but closed it as you stared intently below, the doors of the warehouse opening mockingly.
“Stay here!” You whispered, the last thing you needed was his moralistic hero speeches as you were using some guy as a punching bag. So as he stood obediently, you scaled down the building to an open window, Three stories high.
The room you entered seemed empty and cold, as though no one had been inside in years. Merely a week prior, their main base of operations was set up in here. It was all a trap.
But who had known you would be coming?
You got your answer in the form of a sharp stab at your side, looking down to find a knife expertly lodged in your flesh. It didn’t seem fatal or anything at the time, but it definitely hurt like a bitch.
Turning around to see the man, hands now covered in your blood, was effortless, even more so as your body seemed to simply flow, contorting in quivers of motion as you eventually left him a bloody pulp, dead, sprawled still upon the floor.
You couldn’t continue, you were tired, woozy and bleeding. Shipment or not, you would have to do this another night, plus you definitely couldn’t be around when the police turned up.
Seeing the flashing lights and hearing the sirens was what drove you to stand up and finally clamber out the window. Admittedly, not as gracefully as usual, but you got a free pass since the knife was still lodged pitifully into your side.
———————————————————————
It comes to a point in a persons life (typically as they’re jumping and weaving from one rooftop to another with their only intention to get home and patch up a literal stab wound), when they wonder if it’s all worth it.
This was that moment for you. As you stumbled from another roof, almost falling into the bustling streets below, you had to take a moment to catch a breath.
Turns out, even that seemed a bad idea because as you closed your eyes, you heard a whoosh of air and the thump of the hero, the one you seemed to come to know so much of, landing next to you.
Today really wasn’t your finest and all you seemed to want to do was sleep. It was infuriating and nothing was going your way.
“What do you want?” You hissed at him, you were in no mood to entertain. All you wanted was to close your eyes, maybe have a little nap, just so you could finally get home tonight.
He took one long look at you, staring at your slumping figure, drooping before him.
It was depressing to see you like this, he didn’t know what happened in the 20 minutes it’d been since you parted, but you were not in a good state. He was worried, and maybe, just maybe, he was scared.
As he went to go pick you up, or at least help you to your feet, his arms wrapped around you. His fingers finally trailed to the bloody hilt of the knife and he gasped, it was light and restricted, but he was shocked nonetheless and didn’t hide it well. He pulled his hand back and observing the reddened substance on his hands, before his eyes landed on your face.
“Calm down, it’s not toxic or anything- it’s just blood- not all of us can be ‘mr I never get hurt in fights’.” You slurred and hiccuped out the sentence, trying to uphold the typical rivalling ‘banter’ you two thrived on.
But He didn’t laugh.
The blank eyes of that mask just bore into yours, especially when he seemed to take in every detail of the injury.
“You are so lucky I care!-“ He was angry, thrashing his arms and pacing back and forward. “If I didn’t I’d shove you in a hospital right now and let them expose you to the world! Shove you off and not let you be my problem.” He was being mean, spiteful, but he was also saddened.
“If I recall Spiderman- you were the one who bothered me.” You laughed in a hushed tone, at least before grabbing at your side as a sharp sensation jolted through it. It hurt and you let out a soft sob.
“My name is Peter, If you’re gonna die here, tonight, on this shitty run down roof, you deserve to know my name.” He was downcast, turning to face you, to grasp a reaction. All he could see was the small shape of a smile under your own mask. How could you just sit there and smile at him? How could you do this to him at a time like this?
“I know, I’ve always known Pete. I probably wouldn’t have put up with you for so long if I didn’t…” you whispered out cautiously, causing his head to whip in your direction.
“How- wait! Wait- No- Please tell me it’s not you! Please (Name)! Please No!” He ran over, dropping to your side and ripping off his own mask before gently going to remove your own.
So you smiled at him, it’d been a few days since you last saw his real face. Even tear stained, his was your favourite.
“I’m sorry Pete, I didn’t mean for it to go this way. I knew, I knew since the first time I met you in costume. I tried to kill you, my hands were around your throat. You only escaped that night because of your voice. So maybe.. maybe this is karma? Maybe this is what I get for killing all of these people! Hell, I don’t regret it, maybe that makes it worse, but what does it all matter anyways if I die on this rooftop tonight?” It all came out in a blur, maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was fear, you couldn’t tell.
“You’re not gonna die tonight, not now I know it’s you. I’m gonna make sure you live.” He was crying, big tears welled up in his eyes, spilling onto his reddened cheeks.
“You can’t save everyone Peter, I know you want to, but you can’t. You can’t save me, not from what I’ve done and not from the consequences of that.” You knew you had done terrible things, and you knew that you didn’t regret a single one. You didn’t regret anything, except maybe dying without apologising, without telling him how you feel.
“No, no I can’t. But you can save yourself.”
———————————————————————
It all went by in a flash, there were moments when you were semi-lucid. You could look around, take it all in, but you couldn’t speak, couldn’t see faces.
You had been treated, not professionally and definitely not in a hospital, but well enough. You would live.
Finally waking up, you felt exhausted. You craved the idea of sleep, but you detested the days of nightmares you had been trapped in.
Not speaking when awake was something you could handle, but being stuck in a constant terror of false reality drove you insane. You saw Peter’s face in them, he was always distorted and full of rage.
“I hate you.” He’d say
“I will never forgive you.” He’d spit.
“If you had died, I’d have one less criminal on the streets to worry about.” He’d hiss.
You knew it wasn’t real, but it hurt all the same. Whilst you knew that those things he was saying were all in your dreams, all the things you had done were very much real.
It was cliché. You had only once rethought your path before now, that was the first time you had ever met him. He was a small boy, hardly could stand up for himself, but he was something good, infinitely flowing with hope for a better future.
Now here you were, trudging your way from the made up bed on his apartments couch. You’d been here many times before, when he was significantly less aware. Before, it always felt like home, but now it felt like even the walls had eyes that looked upon you with hate, pity and betrayal.
If anything, you wished you could apologise to this place you loved so much, to the lies you told under this sturdy roof and to the cement foundations that had fallen akin a victim to your actions.
You stood outside Peters room for a long while, staring at the Chipping paint at the corners of the door. Debating returning to the couch, but before you could retreat back a voice rang from within the room.
“Are you coming in?” He seemed calm, composed and confident.
Entering the room, he seemed all but that, he seemed anxious and at the same time relieved, he was scared and he was happy. He was confusing.
Walking forward was subconscious. Peter often struggled getting to sleep so you had slept in his room many times.
This time was different though, you weren’t just here because your study date ran over.
He gestured to the empty space upon the bed, so you tucked yourself under the duvet. His bed was comfortable, but you wrapped an arm around him and rested your head upon his chest. Your bodies both suddenly began jolting, he had begin to silently sob, and so you laid there, quietly shushing him as he cried, arms wrapped around him.
Finally the world felt right again, maybe he could save you, because If the world felt this good all the time you wouldn’t have to fight.
“Never do that to me again” he muttered finally.
“Okay.. I love you..” you murmured in response, nuzzling your head further into his chest.
“I love you too, we’ll talk in the morning.” He shuffled slightly to place a delicate kiss on your forehead before falling asleep with you finally in his arms again.
161 notes · View notes
miraculouslyfine · 10 months
Text
spiderwebs and dust
Summary: Miles and Y/n have had a long couple of weeks. Like all couples, they need some alone time with each other. A date is long awaited, but, will it go as planned?
(word count: 2k :])
Tumblr media
They've been exchanging messages all night, deciding on tomorrow's plans. Both of them were extremely tired, though no one wanted to say goodbye that early into the night. This was the first time after a while that both of them could relax and enjoy each other's company, even if they weren't physically together.  
The past few weeks have been tough on them. The teachers at Brooklyn Visions Academy have been giving out so much homework, making every single student anxious. All it took was some "sloppy work” and some missing assignments and they'd be done for.  
Aside from the pile of schoolwork, Miles had other things to worry about as well. There seemed to be an epidemic of rising criminal activity in New York and there is only so much the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man can do.  
Of course, it was nothing he couldn’t handle; most of the time they were hardly just some villains of the week. However, this lifestyle was tiring him out. All he wanted to do was spend time doing the things he loves with the person he loves the most, Y/n.  
This turned out to be quite the challenge as spidey duties don't exactly have stable hours.  
He loved doing this, helping New York's citizens, making his dad's job a tad easier-even if he didn't necessarily appreciate Spider-Man's "help” (he'd come around eventually)-, being idolized by the smaller kids (sometimes the adults too), etc., etc. Most of all, he was thankful he could make sure the people closest to his heart were safe. Being Spider-Man had its perks.  
Being Spider-Man had some disadvantages as well. Having to sneak out every day, lie to his parents and girlfriend about his whereabouts, miss important days/special occasions, run late on dates-if he even managed to show up in the first place- and many more.  
He just needed a break, some time to relax. To forget about his responsibilities and enjoy life with her.  
Oh, how he loves it when it's just the two of them. Not a single thing on his mind, except from her. Everything is so blissful and calm, almost magical. It’s just him and his girl in his arms... until some rando decides he wants to become Spider-Man's archenemy (he really hates those guys; so pretentious and full of themselves. Most of the time they’re not even half decent at being bad).  
He knew this wasn't fair to her. His parents usually attributed his "concerning” behavior to adolescence and whatnot. “It's fine, he'll grow out of it” they usually tell each other and try not to worry too much about their son’s well-being.  
But with Y/n, things were...different. He knows the excuses he gives her are lame. Like, seriously lame. Sometimes, he'll even disappear without giving her a single explanation. That's messed up and he knows it. Hell, he'd break up with himself.  
There is not a single thing in the entire world he wants more than to come clean and tell her the truth about everything. About his sneaking out, about the injuries that he attains from fighting bad guys, not from his furniture because he's clumsy, that he doesn't enjoy leaving her, everything. Okay maybe he'd love to start a band, but that’s beside the point-he had an interesting dream once-.  
But he can't. He knows he shouldn't. That's how every superhero movie goes: the hero reveals their identity to their loved one, bad guys somehow get hold of this information, they kidnap said loved one, the superhero turns up to save them, something goes terribly wrong and the loved one either gets injured bad or worse...  
He doesn't even want to think about it.  
And now that more and more villains get their hands on some really advanced technology, which makes the fights all the more challenging, Miles doesn't want to risk it. He needs her to be safe and he'll do everything in his power to ensure that nothing bad happens to her, ever. And that's a promise he is not willing to break.  
- You sure you'll be able to make it? I don't wanna be there on my own :/  
- when have I ever stood you up?  
-Do you really want to start this conversation :/?  
- ...not really...no </3  
-nah I promise you i'll be there and we'll have a great time too  
-Sureee.. I believe you  
- good😃  
- Anyways,,,, I think i'll go now  
-If I stay some more I'll definitely sleep thru it  
- Goodnight :]  
-goodnight cat-lady  
-You have to drop that nickname  
-never😤  
- I love you Miles  
-I love you Y/n  
-sweet dreams  
The smile on his face quickly faded as he put his phone down. And just like that, Miles is left alone with his thoughts once more. Tired of twisting and turning in his bed, he decides to put on some music to block out the thoughts that are racing through his head and help him relax. He eventually falls asleep.  
----  
He's supposed to meet her at 5 p.m. outside her house. Thankfully, there was no sight of any villain and even if there was, he'd have to leave it to the officers. Today was about her and her alone. No superhero stuff for the day.  
He was by her house fifteen minutes early, just in case. He really didn't want to mess it up. He had everything planned. They'd do all of her favorite activities, visit all her favorite spots, eat all her favorite foods. Everything would be perfect.  
And of course, it started raining.  
For a split second, Miles thought about throwing himself off the Brooklyn Tower but ultimately chose against it. And thank God for that, or else he would have missed all these amazing experiences with his favorite person.  
The minute they stepped outside it began raining cats and dogs but not for a single second did they think to get back.  
They started running toward potential shelters. They were soaked but they were having a blast. There wasn't a moment their laughter couldn't be heard. They went inside every single store that permitted them entry, given their clothes were dripping all over the place.  
After all that window shopping, they decided to go eat at the cheapest diner possible and share the fries as they always do. They were having the time of their life. They realized just how much they missed the person across them.  
The people surrounding them also took notice. It was so evident how much in love the two of them are. Only a blind person could miss the loving way they looked at each other, smiling and laughing at the dumbest things, their foreheads and noses bumping and their lips occasionally meeting and them melting into the kiss.  
----  
The hours passed quicker than they realized. It was almost midnight, and they were at their final stop for today, the terrace of Y/n's apartment building.  
It was a quite romantic night. The building was pretty tall, so they had a nice view of the city. It was fairly quiet too, especially for a busy neighborhood like theirs. Everything was perfect. They had the person they loved most in their arms, and nothing could ruin this moment. It was almost too perfect.  
After seeming in deep thought, Miles finally breaks the comforting silence by taking a deep breath.  
“Y/n...I have to tell you something” he says, an expression of seriousness suddenly taking over his previously content face. He had thought about it thoroughly, he had weighed his options and had come to a conclusion; this was what was best.  
She looked at him, completely puzzled and clueless as to what caused the unexpected change of tone. A look of worry washed over her features as she adjusted her position so she could properly look at him.  
“Is everything okay? Has something happened?” Her mind was racing, coming up with thousand scenarios as to what he was about to tell her.  
“Yeah, no everything's fine. It’s just... I've been thinking and uhm...You know what? I'll just get it over with” He takes a deep breath once again.  
“What is it, Miles? You're kinda scaring me-”  
“We should break up”  
Well, she definitely did not expect that. A wave of shock rushes through her body. After a moment of silence, she burst into laughter.  
“Fuck, man you almost got me” she says between laughs, as she tried to compose herself. “You've gotten really good at this” She looked up at him, smiling, fully expecting him to be bent over, laughing at her shocked face, mimicking and making fun of her like he always does.  
The sight she was met with was not the one she was expecting and hoped for at all.  
He didn't try to meet her eyes; apparently, the spiderweb and some dust that no one had the courtesy to clean were of much more importance; he was looking at everything but her.  
“Miles? Cut it out, it's not funny anymore” Her eyes were frantically moving, trying to catch his gaze. She was desperately trying to get him to give her any attention, or some sort of explanation. She was convinced this was just one of Miles’ many uncalled-for jokes, one that he took too far for her liking.  
A minute had passed but to them, it felt like they had been stuck in that position for an eternity. No one was moving or talking, and it seemed like they were holding their breaths for what felt like hours.  
“...Miles?” her eyes were glossy at this point; tears were threatening to spill.  
His eyes finally met her own. Seeing her like that broke him, he could swear he felt his heart shutter right then and there. *How can she be this pretty even when crying? This is going to be a lot harder than I thought*  
He thought about dropping the matter. He could pretend this was actually a joke. She'd probably slap him and run straight into his arms saying that that he's an asshole and that she hates him *No, you don't, he'd say kissing her hair*No, I don't, she'd repeat defeated, I love you*.  
But that's not how it went.  
“MILES” she exclaimed angrily “TALK TO ME DAMN IT” She was hysterical, yelling, crying, begging him to say something, to say anything, to acknowledge her.  
“Y/n...” his voice breaks at the sound of her name leaving his lips *What am I doing? *  
He says her name once more just to make sure she's listening to him. This time it's slow but steady as if he was afraid that saying it any louder would break her. He was trying not to make things worse.  
He quickly collected himself and if he had any doubts about how the girl across him felt, well, after this, there wasn't any uncertainty. She was devastated and it was all thanks to him. HE made her feel like this, it was all his fault.  
The look on her face made him wish he could take everything back, for all of this to never had happened. But it was too late for that.  
“I mean it. We're done. It's for the best”
122 notes · View notes
c1nnam00n · 1 month
Text
me seeing that my fav character barely/doesn’t have any fanfics OR imagines
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
p3terparker · 11 months
Text
𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲��𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
Tumblr media
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)
Tumblr media
“please hold me” 
it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.
“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.
“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.
adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.
you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.
“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”
“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”
“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.
“how did you–”
“i’m spider-man, baby”
“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.
“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”
“very. now come lay back down”
you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.
“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”
“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.
“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”
“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”
���okay fine, i’m done”
“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.
“you are truly such a big baby”
“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”
how could you deny him?
“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 
“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.
“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.
you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.
“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 
“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.
you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.
you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.
14K notes · View notes
intoxicated-chan · 11 months
Note
angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader
and then they make up yayayayay
Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete
Tumblr media Tumblr media
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…
Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!
Tumblr media
You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.
“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”
He nods.
“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
He nods again.
“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”
“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”
“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.
“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”
He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…
“But Mig-”
“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”
He didn’t mean it like that.
“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.
“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.
You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.
You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.
The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.
How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?
This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.
And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.
You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.
You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.
“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.
“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.
“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.
“Yeah.” You huff.
“And… how are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.
You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”
“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”
Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?
“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”
“Talk about romantic.”
“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”
“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”
“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.
“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”
“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.
“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”
“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.
You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”
“Bed.”
“(Y/n)-”
“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”
“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.
“You heard me.”
“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.
“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”
“(Y/n)-”
“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”
“I know.”
“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”
“I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”
You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”
“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.
“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”
He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.
“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”
“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.
“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”
“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.
“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”
“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”
You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.
Tumblr media
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.
Tumblr media
15K notes · View notes
fxllfaiiry · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚
✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.
✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.
✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!
Tumblr media
Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 
You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 
You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 
Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 
Like today, you got him some coffee. 
"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 
"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 
"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 
He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 
"This isn't how I like my coffee." 
"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 
"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 
"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 
"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 
"Yeah?" 
"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 
"No."
"Sunflower…"
"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  
"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 
"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 
"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 
But, of course, you were wrong. 
Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 
Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 
If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 
"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 
"I was just tryin-" 
"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 
"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 
"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 
"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 
Don't cry. Don't cry. 
"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 
"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 
"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 
"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 
Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 
"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 
At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 
"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 
"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 
"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.
13K notes · View notes
sillyblues · 10 months
Text
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Tumblr media
ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: miguel tells you how annoying you are
ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: last and second part of annoying is here!! thank you so much for the huge support yall broke my app my notifications weren’t loading properly lmao THANK YOU! this was supposed to be just a short one but here we are with a part two and a bit bigger word count m’gonna need rest and need more time for the preggo fic
part 1
Tumblr media
Wordlessly, you left the team. You returned to your own Earth and did your own thing again. There was a slight tinge of unfamiliarity, knowing that you might never work with other spider people, your friends, again, but you forced the feeling down.
Miguel’s outburst haunted you wherever you went. Even as you fought villains that disturbed the peacefulness of your home, even as you mingled with the other civilians and hung out with your friends, even as you laid down in the comfort of your bed, his words would constantly echo through your head, and they would threaten the fall of your tears every single time.
If Miguel thought you were annoying, what about your other friends? Do they think you were bothersome as well? Maybe, you bitterly thought as you brought your knees to your face. Maybe the civilians don’t like you as well. The thought of the people you treasure and care for so dearly, the people whom you devoted most of your life to save, the people whom you risk getting hurt every day for, hating you, left you breathless.
More tears fell, and you gasped. The ache in your heart was too much to bear and seemed to sting your entire being. You clutched your chest as you laid sideways on your bed, pillows and blanket long scattered on the floor. You tried to muffle your cries, but it was useless, as they still vibrated through the room of your apartment.
Oh, god. Please don’t hate me. Don’t hate me, please. Don’thatemepleasedon’thatemeplease—
“[Name]?” the familiar voice momentarily halted you in your weeping. You slowly rose a bit, supporting yourself on your arm and looked towards the source of it. Peter’s worried look greeted you as he crawled himself out of your window. 
“Oh, [Name].” you wavered at his heartbroken voice. He immediately rushed in to hug you. He sat on your bed beside you and embraced you. He rocked you back and forth, one hand on the back of your head that leaned into the crook of his neck, and one hand caressed your back.
“P-Peter, I ca– I can’t,” you hiccupped, and with shaking fingers, you gripped his suit tight. You felt your heart would burst with the way it was beating so fast and hard, ringing in your ears. “I can’t— I can’t breathe.”
“It’s okay, [Name]. I got you. I’m here, okay?” his voice was slightly muffled by the top of your head, but you could still hear him. “I want you to listen to me. Stay with me, yeah?”
You tried your best to respond, but it felt like your body wasn’t listening to you. He pulled back a little and held your face in his hands. You look at his eyes full of undisguised concern overflowing, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hate you too. You gathered what was left of your little strength and nodded weakly.
“Can you tell me three things around your room?” you try to look around as you cling to his arms. You looked away from his eyes and looked around you. Your old lampshade provided you with dim lighting in your dark, cold room. Your messy books were in disarray on the table. You saw a mirror. You saw yourself and how miserable you looked. Your face was wet with tears, and your eyes were red. You also saw how Peter looked at you with such solicitude, and you want to cry all over again.
“Um, lampshade.” You said and winced at the painful scratch in your throat and your hoarse voice. “Books. Mirror.”
“Good job. You did well. Can you move three body parts for me?” you unclasped your hands from his arms and tried to clench and unclench them. You wiggled your head out of his hold, embarrassment starting to creep onto you being seen so sticky and so wet and such a mess. It was fortunate that he understood and he chuckled. You were silent for a moment, and you didn't know what else to move so you settled on headbutting Peter.
“Ow! Of all things, really? Can't believe this is what I get,” he grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. You giggled at his exaggerated expression and unknowingly to you, your tears had stopped flowing, and only hiccups remained.
“Are you feeling better, [Name]? You can talk to me, my shoulder is vacant for you. Or do you want me to just stay quiet? Because yeah, I can do either. Just tell me what to do,” you chuckled even more at that. “I’ll even give you a pass for laughing at me.”
Seeing Peter comfort you like that, there was a sense of relief wash over you. It was obvious he was being genuine with you and if he wasn't, he most likely wouldn't even have the patience to sit with you and let you cry on him.
“It's nothing, um, it's just that,” you sighed as you weakly played with your fingers. The words are lodged in your throat, and you slowly breathe out. He looked at you with encouragement to take it slow, to breathe and you did. “I found out people at the headquarters think I talk too much and they didn’t really like me. Then I made Miguel mad, and I learned how I was annoying him. He probably hates me. And, uh, it got me thinking, what if you and Jess and Hobie think the same way? What if everyone thinks the same way?”
There was an urge to cry again, but it felt like you had cried it all out. There was none left for you to cry anymore.
“Wow, I knew Miguel was all bite and no bark, but I didn’t expect he’d bite that deep. What the hell is wrong with him?” the genuine disbelief made you sputter and chuckle. 
“First of all, whoever doesn’t like you is automatically wrong. I mean, who could not like you? You literally make everyone’s day. Jess loves gushing with you about her husband, and Hobie loves talking about how his punk stuff and fighting the literal government which I think it’s really pretty cool of him don’t tell him that he’s going to tell me I should do it as well and I just can’t,” he said. “And I love talking to you because you’re funny and so positive you just know how to make me cheer up. Besides, I’m talking too much now, aren’t I? Always have been. But did you think I was annoying?”
“No! I never once thought you were one.” You replied without a beat.
“Exactly. Us either. Look, [Name], everyone loves you. Trust me when I say that.” He said with confidence and finality that you had no choice but to believe him,
“But, Miguel..”
“He's stupid. I know. Don’t mind what he said because it’s all bullshit anyways.” He grins. “Lyla told me what happened. I’m not taking his side because what he said is just wrong and I get you, you know? Having to hear all of that hurts. But from the bottom of my heart, I think Miguel did not mean what he said. Like, all the pent-up stress got to his head and boom, it suddenly burst out. I’m not saying that it was a valid reason, no. I just wanted to let you know that he doesn’t truly think you’re annoying, you know?”
“Besides, from all the time I knew him, I had never seen him genuinely enjoy his time with someone nor mope so bad when you didn’t come to the headquarters anymore.” He said with a deadpan expression at the end.
“Pfft, really?”
“Yes, really.”
There was a pause, it wasn’t awkward but it made you appreciate him more for coming here for you. He smiled at you and you did too, leaning on his shoulder for support. He hugged you sideways, one arm rubbing the side of your arm and you closed your eyes.
“I missed you, [Name]. We all did.”
“...I missed you all too.”
.
.
.
The decision to come back to the headquarters was a bit hard but you took it slow with Peter’s support. He never rushed you nor forced you to come back which you really appreciated and when you did return, you were sure you didn’t regret it. Jess and Hobie immediately latched onto you, they hugged you tight and told you how much they missed you so bad. They asked you how had you been, if you were alright, if were you hurt, and all that. Seeing their sincere worry for you, you smiled hard enough to hurt your cheeks and slowly you were going back to the old, happy you.
What changed right now was that you avoided Miguel. When you first returned to the headquarters, Miguel was there a bit far away from you. You could feel his earnest gaze at you and you looked at him briefly. The bags underneath his eyes seemed to be bigger and you wonder if he had gotten a bit bigger too. A reminder of his words rang instantly through your head and you breathed deeply silently. You quickly looked away as soon as you laid your eyes on him and that remained true for a couple of weeks.
During the briefing of your missions, he would look at you expectantly as if you would stand beside him like you always did. But you usually stood nearby Hobie who was at the entrance of his office. Sometimes you stood beside Jess and Peter which was a bit near him but not quite so.
“You’re not gonna be near him?” Hobie once asked as he lay down on a flat surface. He nudged his head in Miguel’s direction who was looking at you a couple of times as he talked about the mission details. You smiled bitterly. 
“Aight, guess I got more time to catch up with you, huh?” the tip of his lips lifted up, “Wanna leg it and come join the protest in my home?”
“Oh no.” you silently snorted.
“What? It’s fun and we’re doing the right thing, you know.”
“Hobie, are you listening?” Miguel’s voice interrupted you both. You look away, not yet keen on looking at him.
“Yes, big boss. Ears open for you, don’t worry about me,” he stretched his arms before he folded them to lay his head on his clasped fingers. You wondered why he hadn’t called you when you weren’t really listening to him as well. Maybe he targeted Hobie on purpose to make you feel uncomfortable? You bit your lip. No, that can’t be. Peter said Miguel didn’t hate you and you trusted him so despite the voices haunting voices once more, you decided to believe in him.
Sometimes, you two would meet outside the building on his favourite Mexican stand outside the building. Maybe it was a habit formed over the time you knew him that you would buy him his empanadas. Now that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him just yet, you bought some for yourself. You could not deny that you missed buying his food, only to eat half of it yourself.
“Ah, it’s [Name]! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Mrs. Flores exclaimed as soon as she saw your walking figure towards her. You two have gotten close a bit back then and has since then insisted you to call her ‘Abuela’. “Have you lost weight? You’ve gotten smaller since I last saw you!”
You didn’t think you did but before you could deny she was immediately cooking some empanadas, “Just wait, I’ll cook some for you, okay? No need to pay.”
“Abuela, thank you, but I can’t accept this without payment. Please, let me pay,” you opened your wallet and took some money but she wasn’t having it.
“No! I told you I don’t need any money! Do I look like I need some, huh? Don’t make me angry,” she threateningly pointed her clamps at you. You just sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness was stronger than any villain you had fought. Suddenly, a figure crept behind you and you paid it no mind, figuring it was some other customer but the voice surprised you.
“Buenas tardes, Señora. Lo de siempre por favor.” You looked at Miguel in reflex. He wore a plain white shirt and trousers and oh, he was so close to you. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but hesitation dripped from him so you took the opportunity to look away and stepped to your side to create some distance between you.
“Oh, ¿es tú novio, [Name]? ¡Lo sabía! Why didn’t you say so? He’s been the one buying empanadas instead when you were gone.” You choked on your own saliva and embarrassment immediately crept up your cheeks. You coughed it out as she side-eyed you. Miguel was silent and you wonder if he wasn’t going to clear this misunderstanding up.
“You had a fight, didn’t you?”
“No, Abuela, he’s not my boyfriend—”
“He isn’t? ¡Qué hombre más estúpido! Are your eyes not properly working? What are you still waiting for?” she snorted at him. The bubbling noises from the oil fill the silence as you didn’t really know how to respond in this situation. 
“Well whatever, you will fix it, won’t you?” she glared at him. In that moment, you felt loved once more and you were starting to truly believe that those who said you were annoying were wrong. You bit your lip. You did not deny to yourself that you were expecting to hear his answer.
“I will.” He replied with such determination and resolution as he looked at you. Your heart throbbed, you saw how much he wanted to fix things right with you and you didn’t know how to feel. Glad? Happy? But you also felt upset at yourself because you almost wanted to smile just because of that and it felt like you were too easy in forgiving him even though he hurt you so much. You quickly dismissed the confusing feelings down and when Abuela gave you the empanadas, you hurriedly slipped some bills while you took the food and almost ran off.
But everything would have to come to an end, including this avoidance of yours of him. You sorted out your thoughts, and your feelings, each day as you avoided him like a plague after numerous encounters because you feared that if you saw him one more time, you would burst out and say things that you didn’t mean like he did. 
On the day that you decided to finally stop everything and just talk to him, you were beaten to it by Miguel. You were looking through the windows in the building and stared at the beautiful blue skies and the white clouds that decorated it. The flying cars and the mega train running vertically were like the birds and the beam of sunlight back in your home and you were reminded of the differences you and Miguel had. 
“[Name],” his voice was so soft, so unlike the tone he had the day he yelled at you. You admit you had gotten comfortable with the pain you felt since that day that you still wanted to evade his gazes and attempts to reach out to you. But the rational part of you, the one that grew from the pain, knew you had to meet his eyes this time. To let him reach you this time. And so you did. You looked at him, you looked at his eyes that were looking at you so desperately, so hesitatingly.
“Can we talk, please? Just the two of us,” he said but to you, it felt like he pleaded with the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw was clenched, awaiting your words that seemed like it would decide his fate.
“Okay,” you breathed out and he did too. The crease on his forehead slowly thinned out and his shoulders moved back. You knew that if someone different saw Miguel like this, they would think he was normal and that he wasn’t acting differently. But you knew better. Despite the tough shell he portrayed, there was a man vulnerable just like you. You just had a soft shell.
You two went to his office and the door closed behind you two. He asked Lyla to not let anyone enter for at least a while so nobody would disturb you both. She saw you and waved brightly at you. She then nodded and finally disappeared.
“Before you say anything, can you honestly answer this one question I have? Just one, please,” you asked him, nerves started to creep onto you and you wanted to look away so bad but you have to search for the truth in his eyes. You have to know his answer to your question.
“Sure, yes. I’ll be honest, I swear.” He promised you.
“Did you ever really think I was annoying? That all I do was nothing but cause trouble for you?”
“Never.” 
“Liar.” You were disappointed. You were not as stupid and oblivious as others thought of you. There was a part of yourself that knew that you were bothering them. That you were bothering him. But you couldn’t help it. You cared for him and if talking too much, if bothering him would make him distracted from the grief and the pain he had from Gabriella then you would gladly do it.
“No, I wasn’t lying, [Name]—” you looked away. He couldn’t even be honest with you. Were you that unworthy of honesty? That was all you had asked. You clenched your fist and let your nails dig into your palm. “Listen to me, please.”
You start to walk away.
“[Name], por favor,”
You were nearing the exit.
“I— fuck it, yes! I didn’t like you because you were so annoying. I hated you.” You immediately looked back at him. Disbelief was obvious in your face and tears fell from your eyes. You felt a sense of betrayal at this. If he hated me so much, then why did he let me so close to him? Were you just a show to him? Were you entertaining? He was approaching you and strength had left your legs from the shock at what he said but you remained still.
“I hated the way you talked so much I felt like I was losing a part of myself because I wanted to know more about you and listen to you talk. I hated the way you know so much about me. I felt like you could see through me and I was so scared that you would hate me if you knew what I truly am. I hated the way you cared for me like no other because I cared for you too and I was so terrified to lose you too. I hated the way you’re so reckless, you don’t care if you get hurt as long as it’s for others.” He stopped in front of you and tears were also coming out from his eyes. “I hated the way you captured my whole attention whenever you’re there by my side because I can’t look at anything else anymore. I can’t work properly anymore. I can’t think properly anymore and– and I, oh fuck.”
What?
“You’re so annoying because you distract me so much. I hated you because I fell for you and you’re all I could think about and I just don’t know anymore,” he shakily breathed out. His figure was so big but at this moment, you felt like he was so small. His tears ran continuously like a furious stream and you were sure yours were too.
“When you left, it didn’t feel right anymore. I missed you talking to me. I missed you eating my food. I missed you annoying me. I missed you so much it hurts.” His voice turned hoarse and you finally moved. You caressed your hand on his cheeks and he leaned his face against your touch. “Lo siento, [Name]. I really am. Es la verdad, por favor créeme. Por favor…”
“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried out as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. But you couldn’t really blame him. Because he was the same as you. Despite his flying cars and vertical running train and your birds and beam of sunlight, there was still the same blue sky and white clouds. Despite his tough shell and your soft one, you two were just as vulnerable as the other.
“I’m sorry, don’t hate me please…” he croaked out and gripped onto your suit tight. You leaned back a bit to hold his face in your palms. His face was wet, his hair was a mess, and he looked so haggard. You lean your forehead against his.
“I don’t, I promise. I could never hate you and I hate you for it as well,” you giggled amidst your tears. 
Really, he was such a stupid man and you were so annoying.
Tumblr media
tag-list: (i'm sorry if i wasn't able to tag you!) @nxrdamp @um-well @nanasdumbworld @myconglomerateromance @sleepyamaya @harlekin6 @bittersw33t-lotus @saturnknows @miggyoharaswife @innergardentoadpony @asobriquet @mimooyi @misscaller06 @sciencethot @vainillasmil157 @just-a-mothboi @katsukiswrld @zukiizuks @cumbermovels @bigmood-myman @momos-peaches @lunrai @saint-chlorine @themoonsaynotocircus @deputy-videogamer @brittney69 @armins-ocean-seashell @galadrien02 @ranp01 @witherfag @eileen201804 @daryldixonh0e @chinglewingledingledong @mystar-girl57 @lorarri @poopoobuttsy @scarletsloveletter @mimimarvelingmarvel @tfygcdy @skulfan1 @roryrose327 @gamersansblog
10K notes · View notes
voidhope · 10 months
Text
The Other Woman
(Part 2 FINALE)
Tumblr media
Synopsis: Miguel had left Y/N for another version of his old wife in hopes of getting his old life back. To only realize the mistakes he’s made.
Link to Part 1
Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!reader
Warnings: very heavy mental health, ANGST LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, ALL OF THIS IS ANGST, mentions of death/almost dying, long term establish relationship, cheating, swearing, therapy, physical fight, blood, feral protective miguel?
A/N: hello again! this one is more heartbreaking and longer than the first part oof… Very low dialog up until closer towards the end! wanted to just get through telling the story itself and the emotions. It’s just a very heavy storyline!! I want to say thank you so so much for showing so much support for part 1 i had no idea it would receive that much attention :O !! i wrote this out kinda fast as i didn’t want to loose the momentum of the idea. so apologies for any mistakes! all feedback is greatly appreciated ~
—————————————————
You used to make Miguel coffee everyday, with one cream two sugars, and he would nag about how he hated the taste. It was to your liking, not his. As you would sneakily take sips out of his mug while working next to him. Why didn’t you just get your own coffee? You claimed you could never finish it and just wanted a taste out of his. Miguel would roll his eyes at you every time he caught you but he adored it. He had secretly grown to love the way you made it and had become his only way of making coffee after meeting you.
Now as this version of his older wife made it the way he is suppose to like coffee, bland and straight, he found himself bothered by it. Going as far to correct her even though this was what he had been claiming to have missed so much. He was now seeing himself teaching someone else how to love him like you did…
He was only a shell of the man he was when he had Gabriella. Even though the copy of his old wife has her same personality, the relationship couldn’t be exactly how it was before because he had changed so much. You had helped him become whole again. His tastes and likings had all switched to everything about you. The charm he found in his old wife doesn’t hold a light to you now and he was getting frustrated. He had wanted this so badly. He felt like those babies who whine and cry wanting to eat a lemon and once they get their way they realize the sour truth.
Miguel never truly realized what it was like to loose you until three weeks after he told you the truth. Over the years the idea of losing you terrified him but he only ever thought of it being in death. He never considered separation when everything was perfect for both of you then. There were times he believed that you were made just for him and he treated you like his queen. Which you truly were to him in his spider society. Why would he ever throw that away? Look at what he did.
He gave himself every excuse in the book before you knew he was cheating on you. ‘This is only for research.’ he would think every time he found himself back in that universe. As everyone knew he was so serious about his work, obviously this is just him getting to know more about certain universes and canons. Lyla was the only one seeing straight through him knowing where he was actually going. Things kept tumbling and the more he found out about the place and spent time with her the more his grief and yearning returned. It was all just there, so reachable.
There was a time his mind tried to snap him back out of it while cheating on you and made him realize the guilt. The first time he kissed this woman you were there in his mind. He came home right after and held you without saying a word. You never questioned him, just showed him comfort as much as you could. Lightly stroking his back, you never over stepped or pushed him when he was vulnerable with you. He only closed his eyes and held onto you tighter processing how you were always too good for him. He was converting to living two different lives; his old self during the day and then coming home to you. He didn’t want to let go of either at the time.
Once he found out he could safely have Gabriella again was when he became distant with you. The shame of using you for research made him become stoic. He didn’t want to admit how wrong he was treating you. All while you were always being so loyal and trusting towards him. Things were slowly slipping through the cracks and he knew he couldn’t up keep it. He wished he could have had that conversation with you so much differently but it was over. Now he had his old life back, a dream he had his mind set on.
He ignored the shakiness in his hands when he returned to her after letting you go. ‘It’s all for the best.’ is what he would repeat in his mind as a mantra. His new girlfriend truly had no idea who he really was or what his background was. Miguel continued to feed her lies to the point where he even started believing them himself getting too lost in avoiding what he’s done. He believed he was happy as he spent time with her.
When she got too close to finding the truth after finding his wedding ring in one of his pockets, he set her off course from it by revealing his spider identity and taking her to HQ. This was the day that everything felt like it was crashing around him. Being reminded of his marriage, having to face his friends with his new lover, sharing his personal spider life, his work with someone who wasn’t you. He excused himself rushing to an unused office room while his chest was tightening. Pupils dilating as he realized it was his first time having a panic attack.
Nevertheless he continued to push it all aside and act completely normal with his girlfriend. He was feeling your absence the most while working. You had became an extension of him. He had trained you from scratch and you helped him build this society he has now. You knew the ins and outs of everything and fought perfectly alongside him. Now that he was on his own he let his girlfriend be there for him when he got stressed, but there always was a knot in his stomach he never could get rid of.
The more his mental health ate at him late at night the more he considered searching out for you. There was no closure between both of you and he never got to listen to how you feel. What was your opinion on all that happened? Do you hate him?
He wanted to speak with someone so badly but he dug himself in a hole too deep. You were gone, he was lying through his teeth to this poor woman he’s kept for some fantasy, he felt too ashamed to say anything to his friends, he would rather die if all his workers found out how big of a piece of shit he is. Anytime Lyla tried peeping a word that wasn’t work related he would snap. He had pushed everyone away and now he just felt alone.
Regardless he would wake up in the morning and swallow all his dark feelings. He would remember his grief of when he lost his family and it would put him back in the moment. He has another chance. He was happy with the direction he was going in now.
Right?
The day he found out you were at HQ he felt his heart stop. He was mid mission trying to call for Lyla but she wouldn’t answer. Frustrated he tried looking into what was happening only to see her busy having a conversation with you. It felt like something took over him when he opened a portal in less than a second. Without thinking nor wasting a heartbeat he rushed back. Just a glimpse of you, maybe just to hear a word out of your mouth. The feeling of having you back in HQ was making him ignore all his insecurities. How he would coward at the thought of trying to reach out to you before. You were in his home, your home, and the thought drove him wild.
You were already long gone though. Lyla stared at him not saying a word. The quietness in the room making his ears ring but his thoughts were screaming in his head. He stood there frozen still trying to recollect himself. He was the one that left you, what is wrong with him?
Again he went back and forth in his own head trying to convince himself ‘You wanted this.’ but if he did why is he feeling like someone just killed a puppy in front of him? Why is he here fighting with his self if this is really his dream? Why did he try chasing after you? The wounds of his past grief were too deep. He never took the time to properly heal and now look at what he’s become.
“Miguel, what’s this?” He was startled turning around seeing his girlfriend holidng your watch and skimming through the divorce paperwork addressed to him.
There was no more hiding, no more lying. He swallowed hard even though his throat was dry. He let everything he had kept away rise to surface. It hurt him to see the beautiful face his old wife shared contort into such anger and pain while finding the truth.
She didn’t stay, but for some reason he wasn’t upset. Though he longed for his daughter, he knew it would have never been the same now. He finally closed the door on his past. His heart had made the choice this time but it’s too late. Now grasping onto the divorce papers left by you, emptiness spread through his soul.
You on the other hand did not find yourself crying by yourself on a rooftop for long. The shift in the air from your arrival alerted the local spider-man immediately.
“It didn’t work out, did it?” He crouched down next to you as he noticed your watch gone and your missing wedding band.
Peter Parker knew both you and Miguel. Your husband had come to do many rounds of research in this universe when he took you. Eventually offering this Peter a spot in the society, which he politely declined due to just being busy enough here. You both never spoke much but always had an appreciation for each other.
“Do you need a place to crash at?” He continued while trying to get you to look at him. Reaching his hand towards you.
You had absolutely no one and you had been gone so long you couldn’t even go back to the little you had. When you met Miguel you didn’t hesitate to never look back and now it filled you with regret. How naive were you to put all your trust and reliance on him.
You took Peter’s hand. You were ready to start your own life and be your own person now.
Peter Parker was nice enough to let you stay with him as long as you needed it. You both had became ‘besties!’ as he would love to poke at you. The first month with him you were a disaster really but he showed you how he liked to cope using his spider abilities.
The first thing he helped you with was getting a new suit. Your old one resembled too much to Miguel’s and you felt suffocated every time you put it on. Peter had taught you to use your current emotional pain on whichever sad little villain was making trouble out in Brooklyn that night.
“Come on, we got multiverse spider-woman helping me keep these streets clean now!” He would taunt at the men while watching you easily take them out a little bit too aggressively. His feet kicking up and down while he sat on the side of a building watching you. The crime rate did go down a bit once word got around how strong your punch was. Peter’s just happy he can now spend some nights to himself.
You got yourself a job at the mart on the corner to help cover bills for Peter and save up. You were grateful enough the owners never batted an eye when you would disappear during a shift to either suddenly go cry uncontrollably or beat the shit out of someone at a nearby robbery. Next thing you were enrolling yourself back in university, wanting to finish that degree you never did.
It wasn’t too long that some of your older spider friends would stop by to check in on you. Seeing them was difficult sometimes, you were internally itching to ask about Miguel. Things were going okay for you on a very slow path of breathing step by step. You never wanted to feel that hurt again and so you very well pretend like Miguel didn’t exist if you could.
You couldn’t ignore the hurt resurfacing when you passed couples on the street. Or when you found yourself going to fidget with your wedding ring just to remember it’s gone. You can’t just move on from a relationship that was so deeply apart of you and lasted so long. You gave everything to him and it will take you much time to get yourself to build trust again.
After two semesters, you finally had your graduation. All the things you learned while in Earth-928 paid off as you barley had to study. Passing top of the class, you immediately got an offer for an internship opportunity with Alchemax and was able to get an introduction tour of the building beforehand.
What you hadn’t realized was that Alchemax had been looking for that girl who snuck into their offices a couple years ago. Who made another dimension’s spider appear and then went missing herself soon after. They had kept as close tabs on you as they could and how foolish you were to think your little break in wouldn’t come back to bite you. The moment you stepped foot back in their building, it was over for you.
Miguel had spent a whole year in much deserving therapy. Nothing could stop the embarrassment he felt when Peter B signed him up with HQ’s best spider-therapist after 3 months of constant out bursts. No one could come near the man when he felt like he had lost everything. Those first initial months were difficult for everyone around him.
Therapy did help, he hates to admit it, but it was a very rough ride. He finally was able to understand his deep inner term oil and heal his issues but moving on from you? No, he could never.
You were the only one who had sincerely stood by his side, always rooting for him. He never fell out of love with you despite of everything that he did. He just pushed everything down too deep and was blinded by obsession. Till now he could never deny that he still loves you. Maybe if he just would have went to therapy years ago instead of acting out on unsolved grief none of this would have happened. The guilt always making him toss and turn at night.
He would have big temper tantrums when he would find his coworkers going to visit you time to time and not sharing any details. He needed to know if you’re okay. Did you already move on? He longed to find you and speak with you but he knew he wasn’t ready yet. He was so self destructive and this was what he deserved.
Everyone avoided him completely when he overheard someone saying you were living with Peter Parker. Fighting crime with him and having a cute little home life. Peter followed you around now like a puppy. Miguel did not take the news well at all. Let’s just say, the large bill replacement for his monitor screens was what snapped him out of that rage.
He also wanted to strangle Hobie Brown every time he saw a glint in his eye when your name was mentioned around. Yet Miguel couldn’t hate the kid either, as Hobie was one of the people to try help repair the damage he did to you. How badly he just wanted to hold you and shield you in his arms from any other people taking you from him as if he wasn’t the idiot to let you go in the first place.
Everyone’s big, powerful, scary boss was really just a grumpy, wallowing-in-self-pity, sensitive, lonely man now. Mention your name too much to him and watch him start crying or take it out on whatever he could find nearest to him. He would some nights scroll through your wedding photos while listening to your last tracked log with Lyla. Your words cutting through him deep like long sharp knives. How he urged to go tell you it was all wrong and how guilty he was for making you feel like this.
Despite it all, he still believed in being the best of the best. He used his work to distract himself from his sorrows, to become numb. Even though his divorce paperwork were set next to him on his desk to remind him the pain. He never signed it.
“We can’t tell him!” Jessica gritted through her teeth. Small group of spider-people were hovered around Lyla taking in the new found information.
“Her canon events have always been uncertain, we can’t just stop and fix this one?” Gwen Stacy suggested in hopes.
“We have never prevented a canon event of hers or the people involved in it. It could be even more dangerous than a regular canon.” Peter B spoke grimly.
“When ‘as danger ever stopped us?” Hobie spoke up.
“Everyone get your gear.” Lyla added to the stress of the situation.
You couldn’t open your eyes properly with a strong blinding light being held above you. Arms and legs secured on top of a metal surgical table. You could feel the warmth of blood scattered on certain parts of your body, slowly starting to dry. It was a mix of yours and the people you had tried fighting through to get out of here when you realize the trap you were reeled into. Different people in lab coats poked and pried all around you while you were tied. Your mask was thrown on another table and your suit had large gashes across it.
Soon you also could feel the presence of Peter Parker being brought to the room, thrown slumped in the corner breathing heavily. They had gotten you too good. They knew everything and had planned this so detailed.
“Now you’re going to help me open the multiverse.” Kingpin loomed around you. All you could feel was searing pain as a laser aimed right at your chest.
Miguel was already staring out the window to the glowing night lights of Nueva York when he saw a big hole appear in sight of the skyline. His eyebrows furrowed while he was trying to process what he was looking at. It wasn’t a second later when all alarms started going off in his office.
“Qué carajos?” He exclaimed seeing the alerts of a possible universe collapse. “Lyla! Why wasn’t this being taken care of already?”
“I already sent people.”
“Then what are they doing?” He yelled. His confusion and anger only furthered when he saw a red alarm for a canon event.
“Canon event?” He whispered to himself. He always knew when these were happening, there were none scheduled for today. There was no way he would let one passed him, it’s not like this could magically appear? His jaw dropped in realization… a new canon event.
“Lyla, tell me the truth. Why wasn’t this reported to me?” He made the atmosphere turn cold. She knew he already figured it out.
“A new canon event was received this morning being given to Peter Parker. Of Y/N L/N’s death.” The words from Lyla made Miguel’s body go still. His eyes raced side to side while he processed it.
“No!” He roared, a fist slamming into the nearby desk. His massive strength breaking it in half.
“Boss, you can’t go on this mission only using your emotions.” Lyla warned. However Miguel was already half way stepping through a portal to find you.
He appeared, watching his team struggle to shut down the machine causing the collapse. Outnumbered by the amount of Alchemax puppets. A different kind of rage filled him as he saw you, for the first time in a year, suffering. Miguel was never one to act reckless while on missions but he had no plan here and just ran off the pure adrenaline the fight or flight had hit him with.
His claws tore into the backs of his enemies as he jumped beast-like across the room. Not hesitating spilling blood across the wall while he took everyone down as fast as he could. His team could only watch wide eye with an unsettling fear as they saw Miguel lose himself to his spider sense. While he fought they took the opportunity to take apart the machine.
Miguel was panting heavily, pupils blown wide glowing red, and fangs dripping with venom as the room slowly silenced. Kingpin laid on the floor slowly trying to drag himself after being beaten to a pulp. It was over. Peter B stopped him from doing anything further. Knowing Miguel would kill the man, Peter B let the team finish up to give Kingpin to authorities. Miguel turned frantically to look at you seeing the other spiders step away. Peter Parker was hunched over you in tears. Miguel fought the urge to snap at Peter and grab his hands off of you.
Your vision was too blurry and everything felt like it was burning. A shape that seemed too familiar came into your peripheral vision and you tried to push yourself up.
“Miguel?” Was the last thing you croaked before slumping back passing out. Miguel catching you in his arms before you could hurt yourself further.
“It’s her time.” Jessica spoke behind him. Yet he was refusing to let go. He had never defied the way the timeline worked since he created his society. He would never break the rules and you both had promised each other before not to. If there was a situation like this you both agreed to save the universe first. How stupid was he to think he would listen to that now facing it in-front of him.
He never got to tell you what happened. He never got to apologize. He never got to tell you one more time that he loved you. Even if you in result just spat in his face, at least he was able to talk to you one more time. You were never a placeholder or someone to fill a hole in his heart. His whole heart belonged to you and he couldn’t let you go thinking you didn’t mean anything to him. No matter the consequences, he needed to tell you.
“Call all the teams to control the damage of a possible universe collapse.” He turned to Jess with Y/N tightly in his arms. The spider-people watched speechless as he opened a portal and disappeared.
Two weeks you laid motionless in the HQ’s medbay.
The clean up after breaking the canon was a little intense. They were able to get it under control as the event started to fade from your timeline once you were returned and starting to heal in Earth-928.
The spider society would remain silent near the medbay. The lights always being dimmed and hushed whispers between staff to not bother the distressed O’Hara. He refused to leave.
Your Peter Parker had now joined the team, much to Miguel’s dismay. Everyday your friends would come in and check to see how you were. Some telling stories about their day or any gossip updates you missed, in hopes that it would get you to wake up. They would ignore the gloomy Miguel who was basically glued to the seat next to you not saying a word to anyone.
At night Miguel would play with your fingers and softly stroke your hair all while pleading “Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. Por favor mi alma.” He knew it wasn’t his place to beg this after what he did, but he didn’t mind the words falling on deaf ears.
Miguel hadn’t eaten in days, he felt too nauseous from anxiety to even try anything. Pavitr had done the favor to bring you and Miguel’s favorite empanadas from a small street vendor downtown. Hoping to get Miguel to at least try the food before he ended up in a hospital bed next to you due to starvation.
You started to blink open your eyes, spots surrounding your vision. You could hear a soft breathing to your right side and you slowly felt your sense come back one by one. It felt like you just had a really rough nap.
“Oh my god that smells so good.” You moaned, sitting yourself up to try to look at where the smell of food was coming from.
You were met with a wide eyed Miguel holding a box of empanadas. His jaw slacked open acting as if he’s seen a ghost looking at you. Confusion hit you first for a second and then you start to panic.
Why was he here? Why was your ex-husband sitting right here? You started to push away from him and Miguel caught on to your panic.
“No, no, no mi amor stop.” He tried calming you. “You’re hurt, you’re going to open your stitches.”
You suddenly remembered everything that happened right before you blacked out. At that moment you forgot the hurt you had towards your ex-lover. Gathering yourself you just stared at him. “I’m suppose to be dead.”
Tears rimmed your eyes. Why did it feel like life just hated you so much?
Miguel engulfed you in his arms as you started to cry. You didn’t care right now. You had ached for this feeling again, so alone, with the comfort Miguel used to bring you. Just for a moment you could pretend like how it was before.
“We can’t do this Miguel.”
He knew what you were thinking. He didn’t want to let you leave his arms yet, as he let his self hold harder and push your head closer into his the crook of his shoulder. The tickle of your breath on his neck, he just wanted this forever.
“She left. Almost a year ago.” He let out to you. A big weight coming off of his chest. You pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes while you watched him avoid your gaze. You felt bad to say you could feel a bit of satisfaction bubbling in you.
“Good, she deserved better.”
“So did you.” Miguel sighed playing with his hands. Your eyes widened when you saw the ring still on his finger. He let you stare. “I-I could never. I couldn’t.” The emotions struggle to come out of his mouth. You understood him though. You always did. Placing your hand on top of his you just nodded.
“Please stay here.” He whispered.
Miguel had broken you in so many ways. Yet he almost ruined another universe just to keep you alive. You both needed time to talk and coming out a coma right now isn’t good timing.
“I finally became my own person when I went back in my universe. I enjoyed my independence.” The words pelleted at him. He could only hold his breath as he waited for you to continue. “I’ll stay… but not for you.”
It wounded him deeply; but he deserved it. This place will always be a home for you even if he wasn’t apart of it. Before he can tear his gaze and turn away, you reached out to hold his face close to yours. Your fingers gently rubbing on his cheeks as you slowly look at him properly after so long. You let your thumb smooth over his frown lines and he leaned into your touch closing his eyes.
“Let’s give us time.” Was the words you blessed that opened every door of hope he could find. He would take it, he would absolutely take it. He has to fight for you, he has to prove to you. He would do anything but for now he’ll be on his best patiently waiting for you.
Both of you sat comfortably without speaking, only the faint background beeps of the hospital monitor making up for the silence, while passing small glances. For once both of you felt a missing warmth you didn’t realize you needed. Sharing empanadas with each other, just maybe it will be alright…
—————————————————
The end!!! Thank you so so much for your time in reading my story. i really really was so happy with all the comments and feedback on pt 1 it really meant a lot!!!
i hope this was ok ~ i apologize for how long it was i was thinking of doing another part but just wanted to finish this up. I was in such a conflict how to end this. i hope it wasn’t too cliche or anything i’m just a sucker for very wanty needy dramatic stories. It’s a hopeful ending tho~ i couldn’t pick with just happy or sad.
So many of you had tons of amazing suggestions which I appreciated so much. I was such a mess trying to figure it all out. Many of you wanted to see Y/N move on with another person but I ended up going this route. I used Peter Parker as an obv character in y/n’s universe but it’s not tied to any specific one and you guy can think of him more to your liking if you want to!
If any of you would like a small drabble or imagine of another route of this story or just anything angsty/possessive and rarwrarwbarkbark miguel. I’d be glad to help lol!! My request box is wide open~ i had so much fun writing this!
TAG LIST!
@hoseokslefteyebrow @sleepyamaya @typicalife-101 @jenniferdixon05207 @geraskier-thots @nuttyrebelflower @youcantseem3 @ihateuguys @archangel1206 @southprw
9K notes · View notes
ichorai · 11 months
Text
snow spider ; miguel o'hara.
Tumblr media
pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.
words ; 4.4k
themes ; fluff, slight angst
warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)
a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!
main masterlist.
Tumblr media
You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly. 
When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow. 
“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.
Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.
“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”
A beat of silence. 
“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard. 
You took a step back. “My universe…?”
After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”
You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”
Tumblr media
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best. 
But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.
It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.
Right?
“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him. 
The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto. 
Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you. 
“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!” 
Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.
“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”
Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air. 
Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view. 
“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless. 
Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.
Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples. 
Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense. 
Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.
Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”
A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit. 
“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”
“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.” 
“But you’re hurt.”
“I’ll heal.”
With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.
“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”
You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained. 
“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.” 
There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.
You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”
Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.
If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.
“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”
The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.
“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.
“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”
Tumblr media
“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression. 
“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”
You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!” 
His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”
“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”
With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out. 
“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”
Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”
Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.
Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”
To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.
“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence. 
You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”
Tumblr media
The months pass by in a blur. 
You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him. 
“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier. 
“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”
You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.
“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”
With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”
The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal. 
Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.
As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip. 
“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.
Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”
Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.
Tumblr media
Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.
But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.
Then there was you.
It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.
Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—
To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.
It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face. 
“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”
“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”
“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”
Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”
Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps. 
You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.
“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.” 
“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”
You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”
“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!” 
You blinked.
“What?”
Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.
“What?” he parroted.
“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”
“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?” 
Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”
You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.
Miguel was crazy about you?
After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).
“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”
“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.
He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”
“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”
Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”
There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.
“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited. 
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago. 
You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips. 
With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.
“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”
A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.
The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?” 
Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.
Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.
You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him. 
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite. 
“Oka—mmph!” 
His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper. 
When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.
“He was right,” said Miguel.
“Who was?”
“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”
You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”
At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”
You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”
His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you. 
When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.
He was falling in love with you. 
The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.
12K notes · View notes
loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months
Note
Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!
I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3
Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader
summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara. 
a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao
warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13
wc: 3.5k ish
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.
Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things. 
Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax. 
Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration. 
It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers. 
"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler. 
"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."
Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words. 
"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers!  How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?" 
"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"
"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!" 
"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."
"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."
"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling. 
"I could do this all day, princesa. " 
You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure. 
~~~
You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit. 
You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive. 
He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time. 
You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far. 
That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him. 
You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.
"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar. 
"You okay?" 
He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you.  "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all." 
You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."
He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."
"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."
~~~
As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two. 
Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand. 
Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over. 
It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you. 
You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.
You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.
You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass. 
It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder. 
"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?" 
You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink. 
"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar. 
He stretches out his hand, and you take it. 
"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."
Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words. 
"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"
"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish. 
"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck. 
"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."
The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do. 
And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him. 
Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you. 
~~~
He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.
You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.
He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer. 
He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in. 
You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness. 
"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him. 
You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension. 
You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip. 
"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck. 
He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders. 
He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out. 
"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper. 
Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."
The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile. 
You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face. 
~~~
It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more. 
He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words. 
Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is. 
He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate  all your needs. 
When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order. 
So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk. 
He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach. 
"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -" 
"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains. 
You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary. 
"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?" 
Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-" 
"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious . 
"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body. 
"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something. 
You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up. 
He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?" 
You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression  is steady, just as unreadable. 
"Do you want to?" 
You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over. 
"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me." 
You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust. 
"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod. 
Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man. 
You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper. 
"Fuck, Miguel." 
"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot. 
You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares. 
"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans. 
"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."
His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters. 
" M-Miguel …"
He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm. 
" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?" 
You nod frantically with a stifled sob. 
"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."
"...fuuck you."
" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."
"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.
"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."
" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please." 
"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?" 
"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks. 
He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers. 
You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath. 
"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."
You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought. 
You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy. 
He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum. 
Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago. 
"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process. 
"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?" 
"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."
All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles. 
"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa." 
_
_
_
12K notes · View notes
drefear · 5 months
Note
i saw u needed some idea and lemme just say: ex's dad!miguel o'hara
…oh fuck yes.
Tw: cheating, p in v, age gap,
He cheated. He fucking cheated with your roommate. And now here you were, standing in a long dress at his cousin’s wedding two months later. His cousin invited you because you two became close friends, but seeing him bring your old roommate, laughing with her in front of everyone while you didn’t even bring a plus one sucked.
You look up in the mirror as you tap some cold water on the back of your neck, nervous again after seeing him kiss her cheek and then make eye contact with you.
Most of the ceremony is a blur as you can barely focus on anything but keeping your breathing even. Once it’s over, you bee-line for the open bar and quickly down a shot of vodka before hissing at the burn and reaching for a lemon or lime, anything to help with the taste.
Your arm hits something hard and you feel the front of your dress become soaked as you glance to the side to see your ex boyfriend’s father looking down at where his Old Fashioned spilled on your torso. The syrup-sticky-feeling starts to sink in as you feel gross, groaning and imagining how you must look.
“Dios, I’m so sorry.” He apologized and sighs, “this is not the way I wanted to say hello.”
“It’s ok.” You nod and sigh. “I think the bridal suite has a shower in the bathroom.”
“Let me try to clean the dress while you rinse off, yeah?” He asks and you agree, walking together in silence to the bridal suite. As he opens the door for you, he speaks. “I’m sorry about what happened with my son. He’s young, can’t hold onto the good things in his life right now.”
“Sounds like you want to get us back together.” You chuckle, though it feels dry in your throat. “Mr. O’Hara, it’s ok. It wasn’t meant to be.” You deadpan and he gives you an apologetic look, almost pity.
You head into the bathroom and as you begin to shut the door, a hand catches the knob and pushes it open once more. “Do you need help with the zipper?” His voice gets lower as he asks and you turn to see him coming closer, not even fully answering before he forces you around to look in the mirror and starts unzipping the dress. His breath is hot in your ear as he whispers, “my son doesn’t know how to keep a sexy, smart woman.” His words make you shiver as his fingers trance symbols on your back and down to your thong. “Tell me when to stop.”
“Don’t stop.” You reply and he smirks in the mirror at you, watching your eyes flutter closed as he dips his hands into the front of your underwear and rub small circles around your clit.
“Let me taste this pussy, cariño. Wanted to since the first day he brought you home.” He mumbles into your hair and lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the sink, spreading your legs and putting your knees on his shoulders as he groans at the sight of your already wet pussy. “God damn, you even smell good.”
With that, his tongue licks a stripe over your pussy, pushing your thong to the side and flicking his tongue between your folds. Your moan and lean backwards against the mirror as he grinds his nose into your clit, your legs jolting from the sudden feeling. “Good girl, let out those sounds… let me hear you moan, so sweet for me…” his comments make you thrust into his face and make him laugh deeply, then beginning to push his tongue in and out of you at a faster pace.
“Cum on my face.” He instructs you and you oblige, shaking and almost screaming from pleasure. “Good girl.”
It wasn’t your wedding night, but you still celebrated.
4K notes · View notes
charg3rs0ck3t · 1 year
Text
“From now on”
Tumblr media
TASM! Peter Parker x reader
Tw: Angst, lots of angst, strained relationships, depictions of verbal abuse, depictions of bullying, depictions of depression and anxiety, character goes to therapy for once
It got to a point when I was writing this that it was actually hurting my heart and I had a whole debate wether I should change the ending or not.
———————————————————————
Peter was perfect, and you were an anomaly
———————————————————————
Meeting Peter was possibly the best thing that could have happened to you, but you would have never known that the first day you met him.
He was some ‘happy-go-lucky’ dork, into photography, Maybe not so much a dork, just not so popular.
You were within the ‘middle class’ of high school hierarchy, mainly because you were new, popped out of nowhere with weird clothes and weird slang, everyone just decided “yeah, I want them as my friend.”
Something happened around school one day and Peter seemed more confident in himself, and flash steered clear for once. It was nice to see him walk with a little kick in his step. That was until you realised his walk was leading him straight to you. Looking up to see his face, you confirmed it, his eyes set on you.
And he did walk over, and sit in the empty seat adjacent to you. So you talked, and talked and talked until there was no time left to say anything more ‘lest you want to be verbally abused by Doreen from the kitchen.
“Hey,” he started, staring into your eyes with a huge smile plastered on his cheeks, “let’s be friends from now on!” You nodded and he laughed, you soon followed, this continued until you were both caught in an endless fit of giggles whilst staring at each other. Only interrupted by the hoarse sound of Doreen clearing her throat.
Running away to avoid the onslaught of enraged squawks, neither of you could contain the breathy chortles wracking through your bodies.
Maybe, that was it. Maybe that was the moment you had fallen for him, just as you had into this world.
———————————————————————
You had become part of this world midway through his first year at high school. Dropping from the sky and straight into some poor man’s fruit stall.
You hadn’t known what had brought you here, nor could you remember why, but you remembered your world, your life, your school and so you began to seek it.
Everything was stranger in this world, older, dimmer and frankly a little askew. Learning to live was tough, tougher than it aught, but you made do.
Here was where you found shelter,
Here was he who made it a home.
———————————————————————
You both fell in love, once he had gotten over his puppy adoration for Gwen.
The world was beautiful. He made the northern lights the dimmest thing in your world. You loved each other.
There was never a moment where you could bare to be apart from one another, and so as you aged, you found ways to live as one.
A beautiful apartment, not far from what you hoped to be your dream home. The rolling fields visible from the back windows, the city life in the front now blocked by thick curtains. You found work at home, and had learnt of his heroic endeavours long before your moving in together, and trust that you had soon learnt the knack of sewing.
But something changed, he went out for a swing to clear his head and never returned home. Time stopped, literally stopped.
The world was at a standstill, the world revolved around him and he seemed, now, to be no longer in it.
It seemed to last for weeks, separation anxiety kicking in at full force and worst of all? No one to talk to, a world gone silent. In reality, it was a few hours or at most a day, but he returned back a changed man.
You received a single text, from a number that didn’t seem to exist, a short answer to what had happened, and an “I’m sorry.”
Peter had known you weren’t of this world, he knew whatever this supposed ‘wizard’ was going to do would affect you. But in reality, it seemed to have some opposite affect.
He forgot you.
———————————————————————
Something within him knew you, knew of a life with you, but it was all so fuzzy.
He remembered his time in another world, and his missing of someone, a physical pain from their absence. That feeling always quelled some now though, whenever he was around you.
He thought that maybe it was that you were just his roommate, from the story that you had told him. Although he knew something was wrong, you should have forgotten him, you should have forgotten the existence of Peter Parker, why were you so special?
His return home saw you in a frantic rush to remove personal objects from what he could only assume to be the bedrooms.
After that, tensions were high.
He hated that.
It seemed like for days you couldn’t bare to look at him, but he’d always sneak a glance at you and see you staring longingly at him.
Why were you so confusing?
He thought, he thought long and hard, but the longer and harder he thought, the louder his head got. It hurt to try and remember you.
So instead of remembering his past life, he decided to create some new memories.
Over breakfast one day he confronted you. “I think that whoever we were to each other before must have been very important, so let’s be friends from now on!” He stated as he gave a smile.
You smiled back, and his heart erupted. But then started to cry, long drawn sobs and you ran, faster than he could grab your wrist.
His heart hurt to see you sad.
Everything about him seemed to have a painful longing when around you.
So he decided to distance himself. It didn’t ease the pain, but he managed to rekindle with Gwen. For awhile, she filled that endless void.
They loved each other.
———————————————————————
In that time that Peter and Gwen ‘rekindled’, you shut yourself away. You became bitter before you became mellow.
Peter hated it, you were friends, so why couldn’t you just be happy for him? When you were sad it hurt him and so it but a damper on his love for Gwen. He hated it.
He hated you.
Seeing you were becoming a liability for him, you gave up. He did not need to remember you, and he seemed happier, lighter.
You tried to move on.
Gwen noticed it more than Peter. His immature puppy love was cute but it felt wrong and misled. She hadn’t known what had gone on between the two of you, last she knew you were deeply in love with some guy, but somehow you lived with Peter. Whatever had happened, someone had hurt you.
Gwen was all you had.
When you had begun the relationship with Peter, everyone else seemed irrelevant and so you hadn’t made any friends to confide in.
In the beginning, it was like everyone forgot you, including Peter. Then came Gwen, a blessing and a curse. She became your bestest friend and worst enemy all in one. But she never hurt you, not in the way that Peter had.
You had lost all hope, and so watched him become happier as the days went by, happier than he’d ever be with you.
Him and Gwen moved into your dream house together, just across the hills and visible from the apartments balcony.
Every morning you’d stare at the cottage, heart shattering. Until they took to eating breakfast on the porch, every single day, as though they were mocking you.
Now both sides of the house have thick, closed curtains on the windows. You needed to block out the world, so that’s what you did.
Isolated and paler, the world was caving in, walls crumbling. This is what he did to you.
So you began to get therapy, learnt to get over him. It hurt, it hurt badly. Every step of the way you’d have Gwen. She was ever-sweet and understanding, but you could never tell her what was truly happening, what you truly felt.
Visiting Gwen sometimes made your therapy feel redundant, because you’d see him there, typically doing some mundane task. Then, You’d fall for him all over again.
———————————————————————
He hated that being around you felt so good.
He didn’t understand why he still longed for your company even though he already had Gwen. It was just something about you. But it made him angry, and so he took it out on you.
Whenever Gwen would leave, tensions would be high. Peter had taken to starting petty fights or indirectly insulting you.
It hurt him. It really did, but at least it was a different type of pain, at least it wasn’t the deep rooted longing he kept under lock and key. He hated himself, but he kept doing it, desperately hoping you would understand what he was trying to tell you.
But you never did. In fact, it helped, and soon enough you had reduced that burning desire to him to nothing more than a soft dying ember.
———————————————————————
One day, he did remember.
By then it was too late.
That day you had decided to leave, leave the apartment you owned together, the memories you had made. You were going to make something of your life, something that didn’t involve him.
You had the plane tickets booked, the bags packed and your taxi arriving in 8 minutes.
You were going to leave this false life you had childishly hoped would come back and embrace you once again.
But it all came to late.
The apartment was the same as it was when you had lived together. But he could no longer feel the love radiating from the very bones of the place, it was cold and dusty.
He didn’t realise how dark it was until he turned to stare longingly at your dream house, the house he now lived in with another girl, a girl who’d never be you.
He had just had something click a week ago, and everything fell into place. He lashed out at Gwen and she had left. Everything was destroyed and it was all his fault.
He had found a letter on your desk. A last stitch effort from you to say goodbye, even though you were sure the Peter you now knew would rather burn it than read it.
He had barely got past the point in which you said that you were going to the airport, before he was already hopping in his car, praying to make it before you left him for good.
He has made too many mistakes in his life, he couldn’t tell if loosing you would break him or kill him entirely. The pain he felt right now alluded to the latter.
He found you and his heart expanded and burst all at once. You looked tired. So he thought, on all the times he remembered you coming to the house, all the times he hurt you. You were sick. You had been pale and gaunt and he had made it worse.
You looked better now, much better, but looked so tired, so desolate, he couldn’t bare it.
He came up to you and fell to his knees. Blabbering apologies you had wished to come months ago, apologies that would have bent your life back to him, if only they had came a day sooner.
You stopped him, and he looked up at you with helplessness in his eyes. But you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t put yourself through this again.
“I’m sorry, but let’s be friends from now on, actually no. Your friendship has made me up and broke me down. You were vile to me, all in the name of love and not understanding what you were doing. You deserve this and I don’t. So, Peter Parker, let’s be strangers from now on. Goodbye.”
It hurt, he had to prevent himself from balling on the floor and waiting for death to take him.
Heavy sobs wracked his body as he watched you walk away, not sparing a glance. If only to hide the pitiful tears that had escaped your own eyes.
Peter had always thought he was a whole person, at least, until he saw his other half walk away from him.
As he watched them walk away, he swore he heard a pledge of forgiveness to him, but so wrapped up in his grief, he knew it could only be a manifestation of you, somewhere in his head trying to keep him from drowning in his crippling loneliness.
He was disgusting to you, and if that’s who he was when he did not remember you, he didn’t deserve you at all.
250 notes · View notes
futureplayboibunnie · 9 months
Text
Aphrodesiacs
Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader
yk that bit of spiderman lore between silk and peter where they were bitten by the same spider and can’t be near each other without feeling….
yeah this is that but with Miguel. SO NSFW. i love blue balling y’all. PART 2 IS UP NOW!
Tumblr media
There were certain things that were absolutely not up for discussion when it came to Miguel: his leadership skills, his authority, his ability to lead this society, his daughter and…you.
There were too many issues to discuss about your strange…he didn’t even know what to call it at this point. See, you were both bitten by the same spider which everyone deemed highly impossible, but it happened. What came with being bit by the same spider were chemically and biologically bound side effects no one knew the first thing about. You and Miguel were more enhanced than the others, in many ways, many uncomfortable and impossibly distracting ways. You were physically drawn to each other, unable to physically feel anything but an intense primal, primitive and animalistic sexual attraction to one another. Neither of you could be in the same room without wanting to fuck like bunnies. The chemical compounds in your brains were the same, and it made you both become aphrodesiacs for each other. No one knew about it other than Lyla and Jess.
This was a problem, he was your boss and you couldn’t actually look at him without feeling hot and wet, you had fangs the same way he did but no one knew about it, Lyla made sure of it. Miguel on the other hand was a wreck because of it, his blood would burn at the mere thought of you. He worked his body out to the bone, he would work out and sweat the thoughts and desires away from him. It never worked. But he needed to pretend it did. Neither of you would anticipate how drastic it could be. You knew it was the genetics and the chemicals from the same spider that bit you which made you weary of ever getting close to one another but Lord, the desires were still there. It felt like you were muzzled and on a leash, hindered by moral righteousness. You both knew you couldn’t give in but that was rather difficult when you actually needed to see one another.
You ripped a hole in your suit, where your waist was and only Miguel seemed to have the supplies to fix it. A massive horizontal gash that exposed your skin. Your brain was dreading to see him, your heart said otherwise and your pussy throbbed at the mere idea. It was like you were magnets, constantly avoiding due to the the impossibility to be pulled apart. Taking a deep breath to keep a cool calm head seemed to work momentarily and then you walked into his lair.
Miguel could smell you from here. His skin tightened and his muscles tensed when he felt your scent wrap around him, like a warm golden glow. He would taint you in red. He would break you. He knew this. That’s why he could never….
“You know you can’t be here.” He sighed, ignoring your presence as he was staring blankly at his screens. “You know I can’t concentrate.” He added quietly.
You swallowed thickly and closed your eyes, wincing slightly. “I know we’re not- Look, I just need you to fix my suit and Lyla told me I had to fix it immediately or the wiring would go to shit. You know I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to.”
Miguel paused and blinked slightly at the last thing you said. You did need to see him. You did need to be here but neither of you wanted to talk about the true reason. He turned his head to face you. He wanted to groan at the sight of you.
Miguel had to force himself not to stare at your body and the way your suit clung to it, there was a massive gash in it that exposed the skin of your waist. Why did God always have to test his patience? Lord above give him strength. Even with his impeccable self control and strength, it took everything in his power to resist the urge to throw you against the floor and...Miguel groaned softly and rolled his eyes. “If that's what it takes...”
“I know you want to get rid of me quickly. I promise it won’t take long.” You say hurriedly as you hop onto his platform. You were really close to each other now, You swallowed and your breathing became slightly more shallow. Please let this be quick. Please. You begged silently. “I just need you too stitch my suit on my waist for me.” You say. “Quickly…” You added breathily. You had to get closer for him to actually help you and as he sat in his chair and pulled out his supplies, he raised an eyebrow to lure you closer. He felt his body tighten as you breathed so near him. The electricity was sizzling between you. Your heart beats synchronized and your minds only on one thing.
You got closer and you were practically standing inbetween his legs, you saw his breath hitch slightly but Miguel was a master at not letting his mask slip. He was good at pretending. His brow furrowed slightly, making a fruitless effort of avoiding that fucking look in your eyes. That face. Fuck.
This was bad, this was so dangerous. Being this close could end in a catastrophe for the both of you.
He paused before he put his fingers on your suit, a spark of electricity caused your body to still. He just closed his eyes and breahed out hurridly. He bit the bullet and grabbed your waist for you to stumble closer.
He needed to get this over and done with. No matter what it took, he needed to get you away from him. You gasped a little when he did that and he could feel that sound travel all the way to his dick. He tried to ignore it by getting to work and scanning your suit and then stitching up. His fingers worked at the speed of light. Your eyes just widened, continuing your mindless gawk as hazy thoughts of grabbing his hair and lowering his head further down between your thighs clouded your head. You tried to shake the sensation of his hands gripping your waist but it felt impossible, part of you genuinely wanted to grit your teeth until they shattered- the tension hurt.
Miguel always seemed to be perfectly fine on the outside, he had masked emotions other than anger or annoyance very well but this was causing that picture of himself to falter at the seams. Internally, he was breaking apart. Weakened by desperation. Lord, you were his weakness.
Images of you flashed through his head as he stitched, he wanted you tied up. Yes. With your own webs. Letting him have his way with you, pounding you until you cried and begged him to stop. He would fill you up, make you guzzle his cum as you pleaded for more. He let out a soft grunt at the sheer idea.
His fingers moved quickly as he sewed your torn suit together. “Why are you always getting hurt?” Miguel's voice was raspy, and he was unable to control his breathing. Miguel did his best to look away, but the smell of your exposed your skin was making it hard for him to think clearly. Your body was perfect. Jesus, it was like it was made for him.
You swallowed hard, your thoughts became hazy as he was this close. His hands were brushing on you and you tensed slightly at his fleeting barely there touchs. “Mm- I’m not always getting hurt.” You say softly, if you said it any louder you were sure you would moan.
“Right,” Miguel mumbled softly, his words catching in his throat. “I'm sure you were just passing by when you ran into trouble.” Miguel kept his eyes down to avoid meeting your gaze. All you could do was scowl at him. He finished his work and immediatly grabbed your waist and pushed you away as he got up from his chair to stare at his screens again as a means to avoid looking at you. “Don’t come back here.” He muttered at you seriously.
“I won’t.” You glowered at his broad and muscular back. You lied though, you were sure you’d be back. “But…I can’t keep going on like this.”
His ears pricked up at your admission and he felt the exact same way. Miguel's body was on fire. He wanted you. Right now. He didn't know what would happen if he gave into his urges. His body was shaking, and he had to make a conscious effort to keep his hands to himself. He was trying not to touch you, but every move you made, every tiny shift, only made your body more desirable. “Please, go.” Miguel choked, his voice harsh and strained.
You did as you were told and you hurriedly left. Praying that this would naturally wear off as long as you stayed away from him.
-
It had been a few days since your interaction and you had both successfully avoided each other since then but he could still feel your presence whenever you were at HQ. He could still feel the air in his office carrying your scent.
Now it was 2AM and he was still in his office. He was banging another hookup over his desk, she was bent over just so he couldn’t look at her. She was pretty but she wasn’t you. As his dick slid in and out, her moans fell flat to him, he only wanted to hear you. He was praying that this one would be the one that made him forget about you, that this one would tamper down his sexual anger and frustration but no. He got angrier. Animalistic. All he could think about was you. He was pretty sure he was hurting her when he was like this. His mood soured when he wondered what he would do to you if he finally gave in. Would he hurt you? God, what if he did….
He never wanted to hurt you.
He knew you would never be able to take it, to take all of it.
You on the other hand were in your apartment, also fucking a random hookup. You were hoping it would help your predicament but if anything it was making you more frustrated. He wasn’t fucking big enough. Yeah, his dick was better than average but it didn’t have the girth that Miguel would- You shook your head out of any thoughts of him and decided to be in the moment. You decided that it was a terrible moment. There were much more irritating things than faking an orgasm like your incessant need for Miguel.
Even though you were being fucked by another guy all you could thing about was: Miguel, Miguel, Miguel.
Nothing was working, for either of you.
-
Your mind wandered towards another way to fix this. Maybe there was a suppressant or an antidote to help keep down these primal urges and desires. These thoughts were keeping you from doing any sort of work, you couldn’t concentrate properly. Your mind was burned alive by constant thoughts of him in so many different situations. So you decided to talk to him about it. He’d probably end up killing you for even thinking about it but you were way passed that.
You sighed deeply before thrumming up the guts to see him again. Entering his lair was never a welcome idea to anyone but you and him were struggling and he was lying to himself. Miguel felt your presence again, your scent, your skin. He tampered down the jumping urge to drag you by your ankles and-
“I know you didn’t want me here again but we need to talk.” You crossed your arms but it further accentuated your chest, his stare lingered for a moment and he looked blank. Then he looked back down at a new suit he was fixing up and seemed unamused. That look just made you even more wet and desperate for his attention.
“No… we don’t.” He said thickly and your knees started buckling under the pressure. You swallowed.
“Uhm…there has to be an antidote for this or a suppressant for whatever…this is.” You said hurriedly. “Maybe I can manufacture one, I think I might be able to if I could genetically scan the spider and take it’s DNA and change its raw qualities…” Miguel watched you pace desperately as you rambled on, not even looking at him, you were pleading for a solution to this and he was getting more and more annoyed.
He stared at your lips as you spoke. Flashes of you on your knees, drooling and gagging on his cock pierced the forefront of his mind, causing his legs to feel nothing but limp. The things he wanted to do to you. He was an addict because of you.
“There is no cure for it!” He grunted loudly, cutting you off. “Hell, I’ve tried to make one since the first day I met you and all you’ve done is make me lose my fucking self control. You just standing there is enough to make me go crazy for you and I. Can’t. Help. It. I can smell you, I know you want me too but we have to fight it. We have to manage this because if you let me get close to you, I know I’ll hurt you and I won’t let that opportunity arise.” He admitted in a frenzy, his teeth almost shattering against each other, jaw clenching and unclenching. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair as his eyes bore a ruby hue and his breathing became uneven and heavy.
You bit your lip at his angry outburst, not being able to deny how turned on you were by his rage and lack of self control. Part of you thought your mind was playing tricks on your or that you were hullicinating all of this as you were dulled by a cloud of lust, but no. You were very aware now that it was real. You were both feral for each other. You just glowered him.
“I have denied every single impulse I have ever had for you.” You grit out. “Maybe I want you to make it hurt, because any other kind of hurt right now is better than the pure need for you to fuck me right here, right now. You are not the only one who is capable of making another person hurt. Maybe I blame you. Maybe I can’t get you out of my head. Maybe I need your cock in me. Whatever….I just need to do something about it or else I’ll go fucking insane.” Miguel watched your brows furrow and your lips loosen as you uttered those fated words. His eyes glazed over twice and widened, your words were sharp and unfeeling. He believed that if you weren’t this way you wouldn’t find a need to be cruel and direct, the way your eyes glimmered yet darkened with need and passion caused him to halt in his tracks, now you were inching closer to him and he didn’t know what to do.
“It's impossible to create an antidote,it genetically and chemically changed our code.” Miguel mumbled, his voice husky and strained. “We're stuck like this...” He sighed, trying to collect himself. “Look, we just have to learn how to handle this," Miguel muttered, trying to convince himself more than you. “We'll learn to control ourselves. This...this is manageable.”
He didn’t believe any of the lies he spewed. There’s no way this was managable.
“Why do I get the feeling that that is not true.” You say softly, biting your lip and blinking up at him. Neither of you knew how you got this close now, it was like you were drawn to each other.
“Stop giving me that look. I-I can’t-“ He breathed heavily, trying to rescue himself or beg for your mercy. He didn’t know which one. Miguel hung his head and quickly turned his head as to not face you. “I’ll hurt you.” He added stoically.
“I. Don’t. Care ”
5K notes · View notes
c1nnam00n · 1 month
Text
me trying not to smile from the fanfic i just read
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
kestisvrse · 2 months
Text
you don’t know me
pairing ⋆ spidey!luke castellan x gn!reader au. fluff with a bit of angst. friends to lovers.
synopsis ⋆ spider-man appears at your window for help, and accidentally reveals his identity.
warnings ⋆ blood descriptions, stitching, swearing, stranger danger tbh, bit dramatic(?), kinda rushed i apologize | wc: 2.5k
a/n ⋆ i hate the ending of this so feel free to not read it😭😭
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
♫ - jackie and wilson by hozier
1:33am
it was hard trying to stay awake at this time, sound of the rain against your window and the soft snores of your roommates made it was easy to focus on closing your tired eyes instead of looking over all the notes scattered on your desk, it seemed nothing could stop you from drifting off to the peaceful place despite the thought of your sore neck in the morning from being slouched over your desk, but three taps against your window made your eyes shoot open.
he regretted it immediately, as he watched your head rise from the desk, but what else could he do? he gripped his side as he watched you mumble to yourself at the sight of spider-man on your fire escape, but you quickly opened the window.
“what the fuck?” you whisper at the sight, the heavy rain began to cover your window sill and floor but you didn’t even notice.
“hi, um i know this must seem very odd..” the superhero in front of you trailed off as you let him in, “shit, i’m bleeding on your carpet.”
“what- oh shit!” you gasp, noticing the giant gash he gripped on his torso, without a second thought you grabbed his hand and dragged him into your private bathroom, pushing him to sit on the toilet as you rummaged in your cupboards, as you pulled out a first-aid kit, you rummaged for supplies, “can i ask why the hell spider-man is bleeding in my bathroom right now?”
“i- i lost a lot of blood, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to my place in time.” he lied, “not to sound creepy but i saw your light on and.. and i needed help.”
“can you take the top half of your suit off?” you ask, washing your hands, as if you hadn’t even acknowledged what he had said. he nods, unzipping the back and removing his arms from the sleeves, letting the suit rest at his waist, his mask still hiding his identity, “this will hurt.” you warn, even though he had definitely experienced worse than a wound being wiped down.
but still he winced, clenching his jaw, as you realized it wasn’t just a cut, he had been stabbed.
“thank god you stumbled across a med-students dorm.” you mumble to yourself, trying to lighten the mood as you get ready to stitch his side together, as he went to laugh at your comment he was interrupted by a groan of pain emitting from his throat.
“i know it hurts, but try to be quiet. if you wake clarisse, my roommate up, she will not make this situation any better.” you say, luke holds back a laugh knowing it was definitely true, he bites down on his lower lip as you stitch him up. luckily it was a shallow cut,.
you worked in silence, occasionally broken up by strewn out swears and winces from the superhero, biting your lip in concentration. as you tied together the final stitch you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.
“okay, the hard part is done.” you informed him, wiping down any excess blood that stained his skin.
“thanks.” he mutters weakly, moving to adjust his posture but immediately freezing as pain shoots up his body.
“stay still.” you say, “i still have to bandage it.” pulling out medical tape and gauze out of your medical bag, he felt as your hands occasionally slipped off the white bandage and touched his stomach. the pain almost subsided as the feeling of your fingertips burned into him. wrapping the bandage around his torso and taping it down you lean back on your knees, letting out a sigh.
he focuses on you as you stand, washing blood off your hands in the sink before cleaning up your supplies, you glance at him catching him staring, as he pretends to admire your bathroom as if he hadn’t been in here before.
“um-“ he clears his throat, “sorry for bleeding on your floor.” he mentioned, guilt evident in his voice.
“s’okay, i didn't like that carpet much anyways.” you say, which was a lie. luke remembered vividly how happy you were to get what you called, ‘the best rug ever’ for your room, his brows furrow.
you lean back against the bathtub, letting out a sigh, he goes to move but you nudge him with your foot, “don’t go just yet, won’t be good to swing on new stitches.” you explained to him, as he leaned back against the back of the toilet.
his breathing was sharp and inconsistent as his stomach stung in pain, his eyes squeezed shut, “the only thing i have for pain is like advil and tylenol. i don’t know if that helps with stab wounds though.” you spoke up, he shakes his head in response.
“i’ll be fine, just- just need to catch my breath.” to which you nodded in response.
“can i get you water?” you suggest, quickly standing as a ‘please’ is heard from under the mask, him suddenly noticing the scratchy and dry feeling of his throat. you rush out the room, tiptoeing into the kitchen to grab water for the superhero, as you return and hand it to him, you spin around so he can remove his mask.
his face was red as he watched you carefully, slipping his mask above his nose to gulp down the glass. scared you’d spin around to discover it was your friend bleeding out in the bathroom.
but you didn’t, as he pulled the mask back down and placed the cup on the counter, is when you turned and returned to your spot on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest.
he begins to shuffle uncomfortably on the toilet, breathing harder as his back slouched and his body tensed. the bandages felt tight on him, as he resisted the urge to rip them off, he was quickly distracted as you kneeled in front of him, placing your hand on his exposed wrist.
tingles shot up his body at the feeling of your skin against his again, it felt so odd, knowing he had hugged and brushed past you so many times but this was different, every touch had him blushing as butterflies flew around his stomach, he didn’t know you felt the same way, but with luke, not spider-man.
“control your breathing, your pulse is out of control.” you breathe, your pointer and middle finger pressed against his wrist feeling his pulse.
he began to focus on your breathing, watching as your chest rose and fell while you seemingly seemed focused on the wall of the bathroom. he quickly matched his breathing with yours, sitting up straight as your hand pulled away from him.
“thank you, for helping me.” he stammered, suddenly self conscious of his voice, how hadn’t you recognized it?
“i mean, what else was i supposed to do? there was a superhero at my window sill.” you scoff in disbelief, “it’s fine, i mean, it’s the least i can do for you keeping me- uh new york, safe.” you clear your throat, staring at your hands that rest atop your knees. “can i ask you something?”
his throat dries, “yeah?”
“i mean- obviously don’t answer if it’s too personal or gives away your identity, but.” you tilt my head, “do you like… live a normal life during the day? or are you always spider-man?” you ask cautiously.
he pauses to think about his answer, narrowing his eyes at you, “oh yeah, i-i do have a normal life during the day.” he confesses, the hand that grasped his stomach moves to scratch the back of his neck.
“cool.” you reply, stopping yourself from question him farther.
“you aren’t asking any questions,” he stated quietly, almost in disbelief. as he spoke, he shifted his attention to your face. “i was expecting some like freaked out reactions. but you’re... you’re really chill about this.”
“you have a secret identity for a reason, i wouldn’t want to ruin that for you. you keep the city safe, and that’s all i need to know.” you shrug in response, staring at the white eyes of his mask.
“i mean it’s so crazy.” you say randomly, causing his head to tilt in confusion, “i’ve thought about it before you know, imagine one of my friends was a masked superhero.” he tenses, knowing that in fact it was true, “like my friend luke, he’s always disappearing at random moments.” his eyes widen but you don’t notice because of the mask, chuckling to yourself at the thought.
“yeah, imagine that.” he murmurs in response, suddenly very sweaty in stress.
“how’re you feeling?” you turn your attention back to him.
“still hurts a lot, but i should go now.” he explains, his hand on the counter to steady himself as he stands, “again, thank you so much.”
you walk to the window, opening it and helping him climb out onto the fire escape, “again” you repeat him, “it’s the least i could do.”
4:56pm
you yawn as you open the door revealing luke castellan, bag swung over his shoulder and hair messy from the wind, he gave you a lopsided smile, “ready to study?”
you shake your head as he enters your apartment, “i was studying all night, barely got sleep.” you respond, leading him to your room.
he just nods his head at you in response, cheeks growing hot, sure you were studying, before his alter ego stumbled through your window.
as he walked into your room, he immediately took notice of the spot of your carpet that had been rolled over, to cover the evidence of the blood stain. his stare lingered there, before quickly collecting himself to sit on your bed.
“i made these flashcards for you last night.” you break the silence, holding up pastel green cards, “ready to be tested, castellan?” you tease, plopping onto the bed and leaning against the headboard as he takes his jacket off.
“oh bless you for those.” he praised, comfortably laying down at the end of your feet.
“just admit i’m your favourite person.” you giggle, he rolls his eyes before encouraging you to begin.
thirty minutes past as you tested him, reaching the end before you would swap over, “alright” you clear your throat, “next- luke?” your gaze drifts up from the card.
“yeah?” he asked, waiting for you to continue.
“you’re bleeding.” you point at his shirt, he looks down to find his blue t-shirt slowly bleed red, dripping down his side. immediately, he reacted by pressing down as hard as he could against the wound, a small whimper escaping his lips in the process.
“what-“ you cut yourself off, to look up into his eyes, eyes widening in the process “no fucking way.”
he tore his attention away from his wound, blood seeping into your bed sheets, “i-“ in a flash you’re up from the bed, cards spilling onto the floor as you yank him up causing him to yelp. he sits down on the toilet as you rummage for the first aid kit, again.
“take off your shirt.” you demanded, and despite the surprise this brought him, he didn’t resist. he removed his shirt almost immediately, revealing the bloody coated bandages.
you stared at his chest, the fact that it was the exact same as spider-mans made you wanna scream, but you held back, removing the bandages and staying quiet to patch him up, too scared to speak.
luke stayed silent, staring at you with sad eyes, praying you would forgive him. he winced every so often at the sting of you restitching some stitches that came loose, and rewrapping his stomach with fresh gauze.
your lips pursed together as you washed your hands, refilling the same cup from last night with water and placing it beside him before walking off into your room. luke quickly tugs hair shirt back on, ignoring the blood stain and the pain that shot up his body at the sudden movement, before going to stand in front of you in your room, “i’m sorry.” he whispers.
“you could have died, and it would have been my fault.” you remarked, “can you imagine? spider-man dies in my bathroom and i take his mask off to reveal my best fucking friend.” you scoffed, tears covering your waterline.
his expression softened, as he nudged your foot with his, “but i didn’t.”
“but you could have!” you yell, shooting up to stand in front of him, “jesus luke, this is what you’ve been doing all year? this is why you disappear all the time?” he stares at his shoes as you rub your forehead.
“i’m sorry,” he whispered, a sad expression covering his face, as he blinked rapidly, “i’m sorry for putting you through that. i didn’t mean to worry you.”
“you-you’re spider-man.” you gasp out, in disbelief. your hand clutches your chest as tears roll out onto your cheeks. his hand brushes your bicep as you flinch.
“yeah… yeah i am.” he sighs, guiding you to sit back down on your bed, “i wish i hadn’t come here last night but- i wouldn’t have been able to stitch that up myself.” he sighed as you sobbed into your hands.
“you could have died.” you choke out, repeating yourself before falling into his side, almost on instinct he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back comfortingly. he knew you wouldn’t respond well if he had ever told you, but he hadn’t thought about how you would feel to him almost dying in your bathroom.
“i’m okay. i promise.” he breathed into your hair, but you just shook your head in response, unable to respond as you tried to catch your breath.
“i don’t care if i am fast asleep, if this ever happens again, you come to me luke, i stitch you up.” you begged, looking up to him teary eyed.
his gaze softens looking at you but nodded in response, “okay, i promise.” his hand hovers over you neck, “i didn’t want to put you in danger or worry you. i would have told you. i was also scared you wouldn’t… wouldn’t look at me the same” he whispered.
“you’re still luke castellan, i still will like you no matter what, you just… you scared the shit out of me.” you sputtered out, not thinking about what you were saying to the boy in front of you, his body tensed.
“like me?” he asks, brows furrowed to see if you meant as friends or.. as more. he got his answer as he watched your eyes widen slightly and you began to stutter, “you… you like me?”
“what- no i meant-“ you shake your head so hard he thought it might spin off, and so he took his chance. the hand that hovered over your neck held your face still as he connected his lips with yours.
you found yourself unable to kiss back in shock, he heats up in embarrassment as he began to pull away, which brought you to your senses as you pulled him back down to press a soft kiss against his lips.
he pulled away for air, leaning your foreheads against each other.
“i can’t believe i accused you of being a secret superhero, while infront of you last night.” you mumbled, as he just laughed in response and shook his head.
“i promise to be more safe, just for you.” he said, leaning in to peck your lips.
1K notes · View notes