#then I get an ask and I’m like YAY ASK!!!

[adriennebarnes]

Meet The Family

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles decided it was a good idea to meet Y/N’s parents before his next Grand Prix, and it turned into meeting the entire extended family.

Warning: bad writing, spelling and grammatical errors, Spanish

A/N: this is the first time we have an established relationship between Charles and Y/N, yay! Their meet cute is inspired by how Billy and Camila met in the show Daisy Jones and The Six

Y/N met Charles at the supermarket in Monaco. Charles was in the produce aisle when someone came behind him.

“Hi, excuse me, can you…?” Y/N started and Charles turned around.

“Sign something for you? Um, I don’t have a pen, do you have one?” Charles asked.

“Uh, I was going to ask if you could move over so I could get some spinach. Or if you could grab the spinach for me, either way, I just need spinach.” Y/N said. Charles felt embarrassed and handed Y/N the spinach. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, but you don’t know who I am?” Charles asked.

“Should I? I’m not from here.” Y/N said.

“I could tell by the American accent. I’m Charles Leclerc.” Charles put his hand out and Y/N shook it.

“Y/N L/N. So tell me, Charles Leclerc, why should I be asking for you to sign something?” Y/N asked teasingly.

“Sorry about that, I swear I am not conceited, it’s just a lot of people in Monaco know me for what I do and I’m always approached with things to sign.” Charles said.

“Okay, and what do you do?” Y/N asked.

“I’m a formula 1 Scuderia Ferrari race car driver.” Charles said. Him and Y/N started walking around the supermarket together, not wanting to block anyone.

“Ooh wow, a race car driver, that’s pretty big. I’m not really into sports in that way. I could bump into a New York Yankee back home and not even know it.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled. “So tell me why are you here at the supermarket? I assume you would have a private chef that takes care of all the cooking and grocery shopping.” Y/N said.

“You would think that, but I mainly have to cook for myself. I am on a strict diet so I have to buy whatever Andrea tells me I should buy.” Charles commented.

“Who’s Andrea?” Y/N asked.

“My personal trainer.” Charles said.

“Makes sense, you are a high performance athlete after all. I gotta continue my shopping, but it was nice meeting you.” Y/N was going to walk away when Charles held on to her wrist gently.

“Before you leave, how about you give me your number. I could invite you to a race and make a formula 1 fan out of you.” Charles suggested.

“Wow, has that line ever worked?” Y/N asked.

“You tell me, this is the first time I’m using it.” Charles said. Y/N smiled, very flattered that the good looking monegasque wants her number.

“It’s working, i think it’s because of your eyes, maybe a little because of your dimples, but mainly that accent.” Y/N says, Charles gives Y/N his phones and she added her number.

“Remember that you’re the one with the accent in Monaco.” Charles said. Y/N gave him his phone back and Charles checked the contact information. “Let me take a photo of you for your contact.” Charles said, Y/N nodded and pose for the photo. “Beautiful, I’ll text you later.” Charles said and Y/N waved goodbye before heading to a different part of the supermarket to get what she needed.

Now it’s 6 months later, Y/N is definitely a Formula 1 fan, always rooting for Ferrari, but she’s also rooting for Checo and McLaren. Y/N was in her apartment cooking when she heard the door open and it was Charles with his luggage.

“Muñeco, did you come here from the airport? I thought you were going to come back tomorrow.” Y/N said, approaching him to kiss his cheek and help him inside.

“I was, but I have a surprise for you. You know how you said you’ve been missing your parents?” Charles asked.

“And New York in general, but continue,” Y/N said.

“Well i have arranged for us to go to New York and I can meet your parents.” Charles said and Y/N stayed silent. “You don’t like the surprise, chéri?” Charles asked sadly.

“No no no, it’s not that, it’s just…I never told my parents I had a boyfriend.” Y/N admitted as she walked back to the kitchen to continue cooking.

“What? They don’t know about us?” Charles asked. “How do they not know about us?”

“Well they don’t follow me on social media, obviously, and I don’t really call them often because if the time difference.” Y/N said, stirring the pot of pasta.

“Are you sure you miss your parents?” Charles teased and Y/N hit his shoulder playfully.

“I do, i miss my mom’s cooking, you have no idea how much I miss my mom’s lomo saltado. It sucks that your strict diet doesn’t allow you to eat some of the more delicious meals from my culture.” Y/N said,

“You and food. You think you can call them today and tell them about me?” Charles asked.

“Once it hits like 4pm over there, I’ll call. My parents should be home by 3 but I want them to chill a little before I bombard them with a monegasque boyfriend.” Y/N said.

“Would it be a FaceTime call or a regular phone call? Should I be with you when you tell them? I am so nervous.” Charles admitted.

“You’ve had other girlfriends before.” Y/N said.

“Yes, but I already knew their parents one way or another, do you know how small Monaco is?” Charles asked.

“I’m aware. I’ll call them and let you know when to come in and say hello.” Y/N said.

“Sounds good. I’ll stay and eat with you. I’ll stay until our flight to New York.” Charles said.

“When is our flight?” Y/N asked.

“In 3 days.” Charles said.

“Okay, that gives me enough time to pack. Are we flying private?” Y/N asked.

“Oh darling, of course we are.” Charles said.

After eating, they were watching a movie and Y/N checked the time, it was 10pm, it was 4pm in New York.

“Hey muñeco, Im gonna call my mom, okay.” Y/N said. Charles nodded, moving away from her on the couch. Y/N FaceTimed her mom, waiting a few second until she picked up.

“Mi niña, y este milagro? Por qué me estás llamando? Pasó algo malo?” My girl, and this miracle? Why are you calling me? Did something bad happened? Y/N’s mom, Elena, asked worriedly.

“Ay Mami, no pasó nada malo, te lo juro. Papi está contigo?” Oh mom, nothing bad happened, i swear. Is dad with you? Y/N asked.

“Eh sí, permítame un segundo. Enrique! Ven, tu hija nos está llamando!” Uh yeah, give me a second. Come, your daughter is calling us! Elena yelled and Enrique came into frame.

“Hija, cómo estás? Que milagro que nos estás llamado.” How are you? It’s a miracle you’re calling us Enrique said, Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Sí lo sé, es un milagro, pero les estoy llamando porque tengo noticias. Tengo novio.” Yeah, I know, it’s a miracle, but I’m calling you because I have news. I have a boyfriend Y/N said.

“Mira eso, otro milagro.” Elena said. “Y cómo se llama, que hace?” Look at that, another miracle. What’s his name, what does he do?

“Eh, pues aquí está. Charles, come introduce yourself.” Oh well, he’s here Y/N turned her phone so Charles is in frame.

“Eh hola, me llamo Charles Leclerc.” Charles leaned into Y/N’s ear and whispered “they speak English, right?”

“Yes, we speak English, Chuck.” Enrique said.

“Its Charles.” Charles corrects.

“Bueno Charles, what do you do?” Enrique asked.

“I am a formula one driver for Scuderia Ferrari.” Charles said.

“Anyway, les llamé para decirles que vamos a visitarlos en unos días. Así puedes conocer a mi novio mejor, él de verdad quiere conocerlos, no sabes lo emocionado que estaba cuando me dijo sobre el viaje.” I called to tell you guys that we will be visiting you for a few days. Like that you could get to know my boyfriend better, he really wants to meet you, you don’t know how excited he was when he told me about the trip. Y/N said.

“Está bien, vamos a preparar tu cuarto para que pueden venir, adiós, mi niña.” Alright, we’ll set up your room so you can come over, bye. Elena said and she hung up.

“They hate me, don’t they.” Charles said.

“You are the first boyfriend I ever told them about. You are my first boyfriend so it’s normal.” Y/N said.

“You have no idea how much I love being your first.” Charles kissed her. “Do you think I’ll be able to win over your parents?”

“I think you will, what’s not to love about you? Beside the fact that you don’t put on sunscreen.” Y/N said

“Ha ha, mon ange. I have a good feeling about this trip, it’ll be fun to see where you grew up.” Charles said.

Charles and Y/N we’re on the plane to New York.

“Do you think your parents would like these gifts? I’m having second thoughts.” Charles said.

“Muñeco, please calm down. My mom has always wanted a Dior bag and I’m sure my dad would appreciate that Rolex you got him.” Y/N said.

“Maybe I should have got him a Richard Mille, it would be like a statement, ‘i make enough money for your daughter to never work again’, I think all parents want that for their daughter,” Charles said.

“Well they also don’t want me to depend on a man so the Rolex is perfect. A little bit about my parents, my mom, Elena, is a housekeeper, my dad, Enrique, is a City worker, he’s an electrical engineer. My mom loves handbags, she has a whole collection which we usually get from the outlet mall. Both my parents grew up ‘poor’ back in their countries, but it’s all good now, they’re working class people. My dad is really into cars so maybe you could talk to him about that.” Y/N said. Charles was typing on his phone. “Are you taking notes?” Y/N giggled.

“Yes! I’ve never been this nervous before,” Charles confessed.

“Relax, muñeco, they are going to love you.” Y/N kissed him, hoping he would relax. Charles pulled Y/N onto his lap and they stayed like that for the rest of their flight.

Charles got a rental car from the airport, he chose an Audi, and drove to her parents’ place.

“You couldn’t have picked a cheaper car?” Y/N asked.

“Compared to what I drive, mon ange, this is the cheapest car I could have rented.” Charles said, parking the car.

“Nope, I’m parking, get out.” Y/N said, taking her seatbelt off.

“My parking is getting better.” Charles said, getting out of the car.

“It’s still not good, muñeco.” Y/N said. She got into the driver seat and parked the car, she got out of the car. “Can you get our bags, cariño?” Y/N asked. Charles kissed her before opening the trunk to get their bags. They made it up the stairs and knocked on the door. The door opened to reveal Elena.

“Ay, mi niña, It’s si good to see you again. Come in, come in, leave your stuff, we were just leaving.” Elena said, moving to the side, Y/N and Charles walked into the house.

“What? What do you mean you were just leaving?” Y/N asked. Charles left their luggage in the living room and sat on the couch while Y/N and Elena talked in the entrance.

“It’s Saturday, princesa, your Tia Hilda is having a carne asada to celebrate her son graduating high school.” Elena said.

“But mom, can you please get to know him first before we go? We are always early and I know you hate helping Tia Hilda with the decorations.” Y/N said.

“Tienes razón. So Charles, tell me about yourself. Enrique!” Elena said, walking into the living room, sitting on a chair opposite of the couch. Y/N sat beside Charles.

“Well i am 26 years old.” Charles started.

“Really? Y/N here is only 21.” Elena said. Enrique walked in and sat on the other chair.

“Yes, I know Mrs. L/N, but we have a lot in common and I believe we are good for each other.” Charles said, holding Y/N’s hand.

“Interesting. When you were dating Giada and Charlotte…” Enrique started.

“Papi!” Y/N exclaimed, surprised that her dad would look up Charles’s dating history.

“Did you say the same thing to their parents?” Enrique finished.

“With all due respect, sir, each relationship is different, those relationships were in different points of my life. I don’t see myself breaking up with Y/N any time soon. For right now, she is what I need in my life, she understands me, comforts me, she feels like home. I guarantee that anything Y/N has wanted I have to her, but she doesn’t depend on me for anything. De verdad amo su hija y espero que nos podemos llevar bien.” I truly love your daughter and I hope that we could get along Charles said. “My teammate and friend is Spanish so I learned a little. I learned more when I started dating Y/N.” Y/N looks at him with heart eyes, she is so in love with him.

“You seem like a good guy, it was really big of you to come all the way to New York to meet us.” Enrique said,

“Thank you, I actually have gifts for you.” Charles said, opening the luggage to pull out the Rolex to give to Enrique and the Dior bag for Elena,

“Oh it is beautiful, thank you, Charles. Now let’s go to the carne asada, Y/N, tell him how to get there, we’ll see you in a few.” Elena said, putting the bag away while Enrique puts on the watch. Y/N’s parents left the house and Y/N starts looking for her house keys.

“Found them, let’s go.” Y/N said, they left the house and locked the door,

“Mon ange, I barely survived meeting your parents, do you really think I can meet your entire family?” Charles asked, they started walking to the car.

“I believe in you, oh and you can’t say you’re on a diet, that’s offensive.” Y/N said, getting into the car.

“What?” Charles asked as he got in the car.

“You’re gonna have to eat what they’re serving, I’m sorry, you’re eating rice, grilled steak, chicken, ribs, hamburgers, hot dogs, shrimp if we’re lucky, you’re break your diet today.” Y/N said.

“Ugh, Andrea is going to kill me.” Charles started the car and followed Y/N’s direction to the house.

“Yay we made it, I wonder if Christina is here.” Y/N said, getting out of the car after she parked it.

“Who’s Christina?” Charles asked,

“My cousin. Well, my mom’s friend’s daughter, I call her my cousin.” Y/N said. She opened the gate to enter through the backyard,

“You just open the gate?” Charles asked, closing the gate behind him.

“Yes.” Y/N said looking at him, she then saw some cousins and aunts and uncles. “Hola hola!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Y/N!” The family shouted, all of them getting closer to her for a hug.

“Quien es el güero?” Her Uncle Hernando.

“El güero es mi novio, this is Charles Leclerc.” Y/N said. She heard a scream.

“No way, you’re dating Charles Leclerc, you could have told me.” Her cousin said,

“Charles, this is Christina, my cousin, he’s an F1 fan.” Y/N introduced them,

“It’s nice to meet you, Christina.” Charles said, shaking her hand,

“Oh my gosh, I am such a huge fan. When Lewis becomes your teammate, can you bring him over? Like Can that happen?” Christina asked.

“Maybe, I’ll ask the next time we plan on coming to New York,” Charles said.

“Yes! I made picarones, we’re supposed to have them later but I guess I can make an exception for il predestinato.” Christina said, leaving them to get a picaron.

“You’re gonna like it, it’s so good, she better bring me one.” Y/N said, a few moments later, Christina came with the picarón. Charles took a bite,

“Mm, it’s delicious.” Charles said, moving the picarón to Y/N so she could get a bite.

“Mm, best batch yet, Chris,” Y/N said,

“Thank you, I’ve been practicing,” Christina said.

“Everyone, it’s time to eat!” Archie, Hilda’s husband.

“Okay so don’t serve yourself the sauce, please don’t, okay?” Y/N said,

“Why not?” Charles asked, sitting at the table,

“Because it’s spicy.” Y/N said.

“I like spicy food, chéri.” Charles said.

“This is Mexican spicy, not white people spicy.” Y/N said.

“I think I can handle it, I’m gonna have some rice and shrimp off the grill.” Charles said, getting up to get a plate and serve himself some Mexican rice, grilled shrimp, and added salsa on the shrimp. He sat down and took a bite of the shrimp. “Hm, it good.” Charles started coughing and fanning his tongue. Y/N stifled her laugh while standing up to get a beer from the cooler. She opened the bottle and gave it to Charles who’s eyes were tearing up.

“Are you okay, muñeco?” Y/N asked.

“Why is it so spicy?” Charles asked.

“I think Monica was angry when making it.” Uncle Eduardo said. Monica hit his shoulder.

“I wasn’t angry.” Monica said, taking a chip to dip in the sauce. “This is good, I don’t know what y’all are talking about,” Monica said.

“So Charles, you drive for Scuderia Ferrari? You must be away a lot.” Archie said.

“Yeah, I’m away a lot, but Y/N comes with me to some of the races when she can.” Charles said, sipping the beer.

“Yes, the Suzuka Grand Prix was great, loved walking around Japan, was so much fun.” Y/N said, eating food.

“That’s good, that’s good.” Archie said.

“Yeah, and next weekend we will be in Spain.” Charles commented.

“You think you’ll win?” Mauricio, a cousin, asked.

“I hope I win, but it’s more than certain that Max will be in P1.” Charles admitted.

When they were finished eating, Charles played soccer with Y/N’s younger cousins, letting the younger cousins win.

“He’s really good with kids.” Christian told Y/N.

“You’ve seen all those posts about him with kids, it’s no surprise.” Y/N said.

“You seem really happy with him.” Christina commented.

“I am. I was worried about him meeting everyone, but I think it turned out better than I imagined,” Y/N said, watching the little kids tackling Charles to the ground and he’s just laughing.

The carne asada ended and Charles and Y/N were in the car.

“I think your family likes me. I’ve been invited over for Christmas.” Charles said and Y/N laughed.

“You think your mom would be okay with you spending Christmas in New York?” Y/N asked.

“Well she could come with us, and Arthur, Lorenzo, Charlotte, I want our families to meet each other.” Charles said.

“All in due time, muñeco.” Y/N said.

“I like when you call me muñeco.” Charles said, kissing Y/N.

“Okay, muñeco, let’s go, my parents are probably waiting for us.” Y/N said, Charles kissed her one more time before driving home.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Comments are appreciated, let me know if you want to be tagged in future one shots

Tag: @prettypink11

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one #formula 1

[astromaxi]

Hi!! I saw your post about being open to req's and was wondering if you could do a yandere jjk x reader one!

Snow leopard hybrid gojo would not leave my mind and i've been rotating a scenario in my head about reader smelling a bit too much of other men. But they aren't dating and gojo's is starting to go insane about it and so confronts reader bout it.

i mean you could do it without satoru being a hybrid, i don't really mind. i'm just craving for a yan gojo rn

I AM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE

HOLY SHIT- SCHOOL SUCKS

BUT I'M ALMOST DONE YAY

Warnings: slightly possessive Gojo, crappy writing, maybe full on possessive Gojo, Gojo having a scent kink thing, so mdi (?) 18+ (?), Gojo really loving your smell and but also calling you smelly (I’m scening a slight theme with my writing…)

As always lmk if I miss anything and this isn’t proof read so grammar mistakes 🫶

———-

Fem reader!

‘Jesus Christ I want to quit my job’ was all that was running through my head as I walked up the sets to my home, my feet crying out for relaxation after the horrible treatment of a 9-hour shift. All I want to do right now is to curl up in my bed and cry.

I open my front door, and at the same time, my phone starts to ring off. Huffing I close the door and set down my bag, I awkwardly shuffle through my pockets to see ‘Gojo’ lighting up my screen. An exaggerated sign escapes my lips as I answer the call. “Hello?” My horse voice spoke out, “I’m coming over! I see you off of work” a very happy Gojo responded to me, I looked down at my disgusting work clothes and the overall quality of how I felt, “Gojo- look, I don’t feel like hanging-“ “Great! I’ll be over in 5 minutes.” Was all I heard before the abrupt sound of the call being hanged up. I roughly made my way to my bathroom, if Gojo is coming over might as well look decent.

The thing with Gojo is, that he has been becoming increasingly clingy to me. Especially knowing days when I have work it’s almost as if there’s some sort of thing growing inside himself. I tend to brush him off whenever he buries his head into the crook of my neck, his long lengthy arms curled tightly around my stomach, or when he invites himself to stay the night but insists that I wear his clothes. I brush it off as Gojo being himself as he is usually very overly touching with everyone in his life- but sometimes- sometimes, it feels a little off.

I sighed as I heard my front door opening and closing I wrapped a large towel around my body. I run my fingers through my wet hair as I cringe at it being tangled up. I slip on an old hoodie and a pair of shorts, using the towel to dry my hair I set out of the bathroom and I’m immediately pushed against the wall nearby. My vision gets clouded by a mop of white hair and twitching light grey ears, as Gojo buries his head into the crook of my neck.

“Mm-Gojo!” I yelp in surprise as I place my hands on his solid chest trying to move him off of me

Keyword: trying

Gojo slips his hands down my arms, creating goosebumps in his wake as he grabs my hands with his own and places them around his midsection. His own hands find home on my hips as I feel an aggressive sign flow out of him. “M’ not Gojo, it’s ’Toru to you” his voice is horsed, and Gojo buries his head more into my neck- if that’s even physically possible. “You smell like other guys.” Gojo bluntly says,

I raise my eyebrows at him, my hands are mindlessly playing with his Snow White hair. “What do you mean ‘Toru?” I ask, the man-child before me lets out a groan. He raises his head from my neck and stares at me with his ocean-blue eyes. My heartbeat picks up as I feel my face heat up. Wordless Gojo tilts his head to the side, his eyes turn to something more obsessive. His pale hands travel up my body to cup my face, the air in my lungs gets stuck in there.

“You smell. Every day, every single day you always smell and it’s driving me insane.” He leans into me, our lips inches apart as his eyes dart down to my lips. “You should only smell like me, only be with me. I can give you so much baby.” His right-hand caresses the side of my face. I shake my head

“ ‘Toru you..” I let out a shaky sigh “You don’t want-“ “I know exactly what I want baby.” Gojo cuts me off, his breath growing more aggressive.

His lips move to the shell of my ear. “I want, no- need you baby. I need it so badly you don’t even know the depth of it” he whispers in my ear as he goes back to face me. “You need me to, I’ll prove it to you.” I nodded my head, allured to the words Gojo was feeding me, our lips connected as he immediately pressed the kiss. His arms cage me against this wall. My knees feel like they are going to give out.

“I’m going to show you just how much I need you baby.”

—————

A/n: this isn’t really that yandere, kinda forgot about that while writing this LMAO

#astromaxi #jujutsu kaisen #please please please #jjk satoru #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #jjk gojo #jjk asks #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo smut #gojo x you #hybrid #shitty writing #pls help #going to sleep now

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

airp2ds

read part one of airpods here!!!

wc: 2k reader: femme!afab (matt calls reader a "pretty girl", is called a "young lady" by their uncle-- it's meant to feel derogatory ofc, reader is wearing a skirt, reader dances at a strip club in stilettos) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- less of a bonkers scenario, but some really rich and fun plot development this time; funny & angst & fluff surprisingly-- stepcest obvi and we discuss it summary: after (y/n)'s little stunt a few days ago, their whole family gathers for an anything but peaceful dinner. rivalnewstepbrother!matthew has no interest in helping you out of this awful situation. or does he? yooooooo this only took 4 months to post, but it's perfect so hope you'll forgive me!! i TOLD you i'd do it eventually. and i did. missing organ and all. ilyyy thanks for bearing with me ੈ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings: 18+ explicit smut, stepcest and we don't ignore it, p-in-v penetrative sex, brief heavy petting/fingering, not entirely safe cum destination lmao, unprotected obviously (do what you want, be smart), reader is a dancer at a strip club and their family is appalled, swearing... this one made me feel again yay

you stick your fork in a potato and pop it in your mouth, chewing and swallowing as you stare at your plate. your entire extended family converses around you at the long, glass dining table, celebrating your new stepdad’s birthday with your mom’s locally famous honey ham and roasted potatoes. 

everyone’s having a goodman ball.

everyone except... you.

after suffering such a devastating defeat a couple nights ago, you’d been avoiding matthew like the plague. tail between your legs, you’d stood up from your stepbrother’s bed after he left you high and dry— sulking all the way back to your room.

you’d been avoiding matthew so diligently since then that this dinner was the first time you’d seen him since his fingers were inside you. he’s eating a little too well and talking to all of your family members, oozing respect and likability. 

you’ve never hated anyone more.

“now matthew,” you grandmother starts, reaching out her hand to him, “please tell us more about what you’ve been doing abroad. it all sounds so important from what your father’s mentioned!”

matthew smiles humbly. “i’ve been pursuing a career in performance in seoul! it’s really not all that important in the scheme of things, but it’s definitely been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.”

“don’t be too humble, matthew,” your stepdad calls from the head of the table. “he works tirelessly day and night to accomplish his goal! he’s such a great kid.”

“we’re so very proud. i never imagined having a child with such passion and drive!” your mom chimes in obliviously. her eyes widen when she realizes what she said and she clears her throat awkwardly. “i mean, a son, that is.”

you close your eyes, stabbing a roasted red potato and letting your fork clatter onto the fine china plate. 

“(y/n), how are you doing?” your uncle asks quickly. “have you found a better job yet?”

“i’m doing fine, thank you,” you answer through gritted teeth. “and i like my job. i’m not interested in finding one that society would categorize as better at this time.”

“but a young lady like you shouldn’t be—.”

“but what i am interested in finding a better version of,” you interrupt, picking up your glass of wine and downing the remaining contents, “is a family. one that doesn’t judge me or compare me to my new stepbrother— who, if i’m to judge from how you all indulge him, is jesus christ reincarnated! how divinely exciting!”

“(y/n),” your mother scolds, grabbing the empty wine glass out of your hand. “don’t be so cruel to your brother.”

“he’s not my brother,” you assert, snatching the wine glass back. in a flash, it slips from your fingers and shatters onto the dining room floor.

“you always do this,” your mother sighs, shaking her head in disappointment. she can’t even look at you. "you get so jealous when anyone is doing better than you are. i’m just so tired of your selfish immaturity.”

“perhaps it's time for you to get your own apartment and stop freeloading off of us,” your stepfather says with a sigh. “then you’ll find the motivation to stop working at that indecent bar and start making a proper living.”

your stomach flips at the threat. “i grew up in this house. you moved in a year ago after the mortgage was already paid off. doesn’t that make you as much of a fucking freeloader as i am?”

“(y/n), stop this right now,” your mom tries again to quiet you.

“you talk like that and you think you could ever be as well-liked as my son? the—”

“dad,” matthew says, trying to interrupt the rant that’s already begun. he should know by now it’s too late.

“—reason that no one here ever boasts about your accomplishments is because you have none. the reason no one ever praises how respectable you are is because it would be a lie. you—”

“dad,” matthew says again, louder this time but it still doesn’t reach the ears of the valentino-suited man turning red in the face.

“—are an ungrateful brat of an adult child that doesn’t even have enough vision for their life to stop working at a strip club.”

everyone at the dinner table gasps. so the truth has been set free: ‘bar’ had been the code word your ashamed mother and stepfather had been using in place of ‘strip club’ for the past year.

guess their resentment had finally outweighed their shame.

your gaze travels down the table, landing on matthew. he’s staring at his lap awkwardly.

“if you’ll excuse me,” you say, standing up from your chair and giving a big, facetious curtsy. “the whore will leave the table now.”

——

you slam your bedroom door behind you, storming over to your bed and picking up your favorite plushy— the one your dad had bought you for your high school graduation before he... it’s a baby fox, pink blush across his smiling face. usually the only aggression you feel towards him is that of cuteness, but suddenly you find yourself filled with rage.

how had you not noticed before just how much barnaby foxworth iii looks like your stupid fucking stepbrother!?

you turn around, hurling baby foxworth across your room with a scream. your eyes widen as the plushy lands in the hands of his human twin. you hadn’t heard him come in over the blood rushing in your ears. 

matthew looks at the plushy, brow furrowing as he studies it. “i feel like i’ve seen this face somewhere before.”

“get the fuck out of my room,” you growl, walking over to him and grabbing baby foxworth. you frown as matthew holds onto him, not letting you pry your own plushy from his hands. “let go of him! what the fuck is your problem!?”

“i distinctly remember you stealing something from me a couple days ago and making it quite the fucking challenge to get it back,” matthew argues, pulling a little harder. “besides, how much can you really want something that you just threw across the room?”

you continue a tug-o-war for your beloved baby fox until you hear a sudden ripping noise. matthew lets go instantly, fear splayed across his face. you take baby foxworth in your arms, finding the fabric tear at the base of his little neck.

“i’m so sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “i really didn’t meant to—.”

“you’re sorry?” you repeat, jaw clenching as you step towards him. “sorry for what? sorry that you mamed barnaby foxworth iii? sorry that you barged into my room without knocking? sorry that i’ve made yet another mess out of a family celebration?”

“(y/n)…”

“sorry that all you do while they ridicule me is sit there and stare at your plate? sorry that your dad married my mom?”

“wait, (y/n)—…”

“sorry that i work at a strip club? sorry for what we did the other day?”

“i—…,” he stutters hopelessly. “i—.”

suddenly, your lips are on matthew’s— his body tensing at the unexpected action. you pull back, eyes meeting his.

they’re wide, shocked, confused. his hand reaches towards your face quickly and you think for a moment he’s going to slap you with it, but instead, he cups your jaw.

holding you still, he brings his lips back down to touch yours again. it’s a slow, languid kiss that, in and of itself, feels like an apology. a genuine one. 

it’s overwhelming. it challenges everything you thought you knew about this stranger you were now forced to call family.

you step back, clutching baby foxworth tighter to your chest. 

“they were so impressed when you told them you’re a dancer,” you whisper, tears beginning to spill over. “why were they so disgusted when i told them i am, too?”

his face falls as he thinks about your words. “i think you know why.”

you press your lips together, a sardonic huff of a laugh escaping you. did you really think you’d get sympathy from him?

“but it’s not fair,” matthew continues. “it’s not fair that they treat you that way.”

you’re afraid to look up at him, eyes remaining fixed on the tear at your plushy’s neck. “i didn’t even think you’d noticed.”

“i’ll admit, i didn’t see it at first. it’s not like i’m here that often,” he replies with a sigh. “and i guess i did think you were the problem. and i do still think you’re part of the problem, don’t get me wrong.”

you roll your eyes, looking down at the floor.

“but maybe you’ve forgotten that no one knows what my dad can be like more than i do,” matthew says, wrapping his hand gently around your upperarm. “i thought maybe he’d finally changed for the better after marrying your mom, but i know now that’s far from the truth. and i can try my best to help you from now on, if you’ll let me.”

“thanks,” you say quietly as your eyes meet his. he smiles softly at you before you promptly brush his hand off your arm. “but i still don’t like you.”

your hostility just widens his smile. “i thought you’d say that.”

you turn, walking back to your bed and placing baby foxworth by your pillows. you think about what your family must still be saying about you around the dinner table. your thoughts are halted, however, when a warm, muscular chest is soon pressed against your back.

“i was just wondering,” he says softly against your ear, arm snaking around your waist. “there has to be something about me that you like, right? i mean, you're the one who wanted my face in your cunt. and don't think i haven't heard you call me perfect a few times now.”

“i meant it as an insult,” you breathe as a hand reaches underneath your skirt— fingers beginning to pad delicate circles over your panties.

“was screaming my name while cumming all over my fingers also supposed to be taken as an insult?” he asks, knee against the back of yours until you tumble gently onto your bed— his arms catching you and flipping you on your back to face him. “you must’ve really been trying to offend me.”

matthew shimmies your skirt and panties down your legs and you find yourself assisting to kick it off with your foot onto the floor. he laughs much too smugly as he unzips his slacks and discards them onto the hardwood. you hover your foot over his groin, brow raising in a threat.

“okay, okay,” he admits in defeat. as a grin stretches across your lips, he bites at your thighs hungrily and sighs. “god, i wish i wasn’t your brother.”

“matt!” you screech in horror and he takes the opportunity to sink himself inside you. you gasp at the sudden stretch, a protest turning to a whimper as he smirks at you. “matt...”

“no need to worry, baby,” he coos, tip of his cock reaching your backmost wall. “it’s pretty obvious there’s a divorce on the way. my dad’s already let it slip to me about how he secretly blew all the money in their joint savings on a third yacht.”

“my mom’s been fucking her tennis instructor for two months,” you reply, trying to hold yourself together as matthew increases his pace. “and her golf instructor. and her pilates instructor. and her business lawyer. and her—.”

matthew’s lips meet yours. “you’re so fucking hot.”

you run your hand up his chest, tugging at his shirt until he pulls it off over his head. it’s a shame to admit it, but... he is perfect.

“but if our parents get divorced, we’ll never see each other,” you say with a pout. you shake your head quickly, realizing what you just said. “which i’m totally fine with. but you’d probably be really upset.”

a particularly rough thrust sends you reeling— crying out in pleasure and totally blowing your act. 

“yeah, it’d be really hard for me,” matthew patronizes, mimicking your pout. “g’nna cum for me, pretty girl? hm?”

“fuck,” you whine, nearly at your peak. you honestly had no idea how good at dancing matthew was, but if he was half as good at dancing as he was at fucking, then even goddamn dick van dyke would be proud. your walls flutter around him, a chorus of moans as he pushes you over the edge.

“oh my god,” matthew rasps as you reach your climax, his thrusts growing more desperate and sporadic. “pussy’s so fucking perfect, baby. made me want you so bad, i—.”

he pulls out quickly, a few pumps before painting your cunt with his cum as he moans under his breath. he stares at the sight for a few moments before his head tilts thoughtfully and a smirk upturns a corner of his lips.

“something to share with the class?” you ask, one eyebrow piquing.

he laughs, shrugging at your prodding. “i was just thinking about how i definitely wouldn’t be the golden child anymore if anyone knew about this.”

“i dunno. i think somehow you’d still come out unscathed,” you say, shaking your head. “i must’ve tempted you. coerced you. blackmailed you.”

he smiles at you sadly. “listen, i know that... i know things must suck for you right now and—... i mean it when i say i’m gonna try my best to fix—.”

“matthew!”

you both freeze as the sound of your stepfather’s voice rings from downstairs. matthew clears his throat, calling back, “yeah?”

“come downstairs! aunt bethany wants to talk to you about visiting seoul.”

“okay!” matthew answers. he rolls his eyes. “i hate your aunt bethany.”

“you and me both, kid,” you reply, sitting up on your hands as matthew hurriedly gets dressed. “have fun.”

“come with me,” he requests, picking up your skirt from off the floor and holding it out to you. 

you consider it, but shake your head. “tell me if you hear any good gossip about me. i have to get ready for my shift anyway.”

“really? you’re gonna go strip after this?” matthew asks, lips parted in surprise.

“dance,” you correct. “i’m gonna go dance.”

he smiles. “when do you get back?”

“around one,” you answer, standing up and walking over to your vanity. “why?”

“my flight’s at midnight,” he says, biting his lip. your mascara clatters to the table as a tiny, annoying ball of disappointment forms in your chest. “so i guess i’ll catch you another time.”

you don’t say anything— just continue doing your makeup as you try to ignore that growing ball. 

“okay then,” matthew says finally, opening your door. “bye, (y/n).”

“my mom’s birthday is next month.”

the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. you don’t regret it.

“she likes you more than me, so,” you continue with as much nonchalance as you can feign. “she’d probably want to see you.”

matthew catches your eye through your mirror. he just smiles.

~ EPILOGUE ~

you clamber through your bedroom door in the dark, stilettos still on as you stumble into bed and flop onto it in exhaustion. you clap your hands— bedside light turning on as you reach for baby foxworth. you cradle him under your chin, squeezing him tight. suddenly, you remember the tear in his neck from when matthew had ripped him after dinner. 

you feel around for the hole, but are surprised when you find a crinkly, purple sticky note instead. on it, is written: 

told you i’m gonna try to fix everything.  — your favorite brother ;)

“disgusting,” you mutter under your breath, turning your attention back to baby foxworth’s neck hole. except...

there is no hole.

okay, matty, you think with a smile. let’s see what you’ve got.

#zb1 smut #zerobaseone smut #zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 fics #zb1 imagines #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone fics #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone x reader #seok matthew #seok matthew smut #seok matthew fics #seok matthew imagines #seok matthew x reader #zb1 matthew smut #zb1 matthew #zerobaseone matthew #zb1 mtthew x reader #iwnfyshb

[bit-dodgy-innit]

We're Not Here to F*ck Spiders

Summary: You were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel took a special interest in you. He wanted to know if your life would correspond with his and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. After an offhanded comment about reviewing your canon with Miguel outside of headquarters, your relationship with Spider-Man 2099 is forever changed.

Set in between ITSV and ATSV.

Pairing: Marc x OC Female!Reader

For context, Reader is an alternate, grown-up version of Mayday due to personal reasons (personal reasons being I’ve been obsessed with Mayday Parker since I was baby child)! No real use of Y/N, though Miguel does refer to the reader as "May" twice and Peter Parker nicknamed her Mayhem. Peter B.'s daughter is Mayday.

Word Count: 10.2k words (see why this took me forever?!)

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI!!

CW/TW: An obscene amount of world-building, parents and kids fighting, mentions of a loss of a child, everyone being hot for Miguel, rough-ish sex (both partners are superheroes, come on), our boy is HUNG, dirty talk, a bit of cocky dom!Miguel, oral f!receiving, a lil bit of both m and f!receiving nipple play, PIV sex, riding, a quick spank, creampie, felching, and perhaps most intense of all, Miguel’s fear of commitment.

A/N: hahahahahaha this movie is nearly a year old and I FINALLY got around to writing a fic for it! Trust that I've been working on this on and off for a while now, but life has been nuts and writing more and more for work (yay!) but wanted to get this out while I had a slow week for everyone to enjoy!

Also, due to more personal reasons, my HC for Reader's parents are Peter and Mary Jane from Sam Raimi's masterpiece in 2002. But no presh if that doesn't jibe with ya!

I MADE A PLAYLIST FOR THIS FIC AND I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE PROUD OF ANYTHING

“Careful, Mayday!” you fondly called after the child who was literally bouncing off the cavernous walls of HQ. Yeesh, were you this energetic when you were her age? Probably. It never ceased to be weird, hanging out with an alternate baby version of yourself, but you could manage if you pretended she was your little niece, or sister, or something like that. 

The alternate baby version of Mayday Parker in question didn’t heed your admonishment at all (which tracked), so you called again, “Oh noooo…I’m gonna have to come up there and get ya!”

Mayday squealed in delight at your “threat” and only zipped around quicker. However, you had a couple decades on her, so your reflexes were more attuned. It didn’t take long for you to capture her in your grasp and tickle her. However, little Mayday wasn’t going to give up that easily. She squirmed out of your hold and began scaling the nearby wall at a dizzying pace. 

“Okay, missy, let’s settle down,” you announced, shooting a web to meet the infant on the platform she’d crawled onto. You continued to speak as you swung, “you know how Miguel is, we can’t get too carried…away.”

You nearly threw yourself back off the platform when you were met with the sight of Miguel himself standing before you holding May. 

“Oh, hi,” you gestured to the squirming girl in his hands, “thanks. I was right behind her.” 

“What am I like?” He asked, an inquisitive arch in his brow. 

“You’re…you run a tight ship that’s all,” you wished a portal would swallow you whole. “And it’s great! We need it.”

“Are you supposed to be anywhere?” Miguel prodded further as he passed you May. 

“Me? No, it's my day off.”

“Then why are you here?” 

“Because you put Peter B. on a mission and it gives me anxiety when he takes her.” 

“You and me both,” he huffed. 

“That being said, anything I can help you with?”

“Yeah actually, I have new sequencing to go over with you.” 

Though the multiverse was ever-expanding, you were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel had taken a special interest in you. Since you were a second generation Spider, Miguel wanted to know if your life would correspond with his, your dad’s, and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. You initially found the whole concept fascinating, yet that interest waned pretty quickly when Miguel informed you that he was going to have Lyla analyze your entire life and have you expound on your experiences so he could compare you to the other Spiders. 

Not that there was anything you were particularly ashamed of, but some of this stuff was embarrassing. Unlike baby Mayday, whose powers had already emerged, yours didn’t make an appearance until puberty. Reviewing your awkward teen years wasn’t exactly your ideal way of spending time with an unfairly hot guy, let alone the head of Spider Society.  

“Oh okay, yeah,” you replied. “When Peter gets ba—“

“MAYDAY! WHERE’S MY PUMPKIN?” Peter’s voice echoed across the room. 

No sooner had Peter spoken did Mayday websling herself off of the platform and into her father’s arms. 

Shit, there went your excuse. A nervous chuckle escaped you, “Convenient.” 

“Sí. Follow me.”

You did as Miguel said and trailed behind him to his…office didn’t quite describe it. Work station? Lair? You lasted all of forty-five seconds before your gaze dropped to his sculpted backside, a new record for you. 

It really was unfair that the intense, ornery leader of the Spider Society had to be so damn fine. You were a superhero and a consummate professional, but at the end of the day, you were a mostly heterosexual human woman with eyes. Miguel was stupidly sexy. His shoulder-to-waist ratio, that chiseled face, and of course, perfectly round ass had been the topic of a few hushed, giggly conversations between you and the other Spiders that liked boys. 

It was only ever cheeky whispers however. All of you knew better than to catch any real feelings for Miguel. One, it was majorly inappropriate. And two, he’d built emotional walls higher than the tallest skyscrapers in Nueva York. 

Still, your mind couldn’t help but wander every now and then…you blamed it on your latest breakup. Spider-Girl duties had yet again claimed another potential partner. You suspected that was the reason it was more and more difficult not to fantasize about Miguel lately. Like sure, he was probably an animal in bed in the best way, but it was the prospect of not having to hide anything from him that appealed to you even more. 

“Lyla, bring up the latest sequencing,” Miguel ordered. 

If it weren’t for your spider-senses, you would’ve collided with his impossibly cut back, you were so deep into your thirsty thoughts. 

Suddenly, you were back on Earth-982A in your childhood bedroom. Or at least, that’s where you appeared to be. The virtual surroundings would’ve been comforting if it weren’t for the particular event that Miguel had wanted to revisit. 

Your father was forbidding you to use your powers. Again. You gazed at the rendering of your teenage self with compassion. Now, your father was fully supportive of you following in his footsteps, but the journey there had been rough. 

“You know, most parents would be happy if their kid wanted to do something to help the world!” 

Your dad scoffed. “That doesn’t matter - I’m not most parents and you’re not most kids!”

“Yeah and whose fault is that?!” Virtual you fired back. “I was born like this because of you! Dad, you’re always telling me that ‘with great power, comes great responsibility’ and now when I discover I inherited that great power, I can’t use it!?” 

“Pause,” Miguel’s voice spooked you back into the present. When you finally shook yourself from the memory that was playing before you, you found his eyes on yours. “Okay, there. Define ‘always’.”

“Quantitatively?” 

“Preferably.” 

“That’s impossible.” 

“Qualitatively, then.” 

“I mean, it's one of those things he said so much that I can’t remember the first time I heard it.” 

“When did your dad first hear it?” 

“His Uncle Ben told him during their last conversation together.” 

“Checks out. And how old was he?” 

“He was a senior in high school, so like seventeen, eighteen?” 

Miguel nodded. Even though x-ray vision nor telepathy weren’t in your powerset, you could practically see all the comparisons and calculations he was making in his head. 

“So using your powers to help people, that was your instinct when you inherited your abilities.”

“Yeah.” 

Miguel nodded again. 

“It’s different, isn’t it?” you asked him. He didn’t reply. “My dad told me he entered some god awful cage-match-wrestling-thing to get enough money to buy a car and impress my mom before he officially became Spider-Man.” 

Miguel was seemingly too busy with entering his latest data to respond. Instead, he barked at Lyla, “Resume sequence.” 

The holographic version of your dad lurched back to life to argue, “May, you are my great responsibility! So if I say no powers, no powers! I did this a lot longer than you! ” 

Tears streamed down your adolescent face. Thankfully, you’d lost some of the baby fat since.  “I hate you! I HATE YOU DAD!!” 

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. This wasn’t easy to live, let alone re-live. So, as a Spider, naturally you made a jaunty, off-handed comment. “Wow, you really know how to show a girl a good time.” 

“Qué?” 

“Nothing.” He fixed you with his signature scowl so you elaborated, “Seriously, nothing. Though, maybe if we did this in an environment where I had access to alcohol and carbs, this would be less um…less unsettling for me.”

Miguel stared at you blankly. “But the simulator is here.”

“Right, of course.” Ughhhh, why was he so damn pretty?! “Forget I said anything, Miguel.” 

He dropped it, but before the simulation could start again, your gizmo beeped. Benji’s basketball game started in twenty. 

“Actually, sorry, I have to go.” 

“But we just got started.” 

“I know, but I haven’t been able to catch one of my little brother’s games yet this season, and it’s almost the playoffs.”

“Won’t he under–”

You interrupted Miguel. “You realize spider-stuff is not a viable excuse with my family, right? Besides, it’s my day off. I’m only here out of the goodness of my own heart and my commitment to the Spider-Society.” 

He rolled his eyes at your remark, but couldn’t help a little half - nay, quarter - smile from forming across the lips you had fantasized about kissing one too many times. “Things are quiet for once. We should knock this out now.” 

“We should,” you conceded as you created a portal, “but trying to have some semblance of work-life balance is Spider-Girl canon.”

And with that, you hopped back into your world, before you could change your mind or say anything else stupid and/or unintentionally flirty to Miguel. 

You re-appeared in your apartment with just enough time to throw on clothes and swing over to the middle school. Your mom was waiting as you hurried into the gym right as Benji and the other players were taking the court. 

“Look who made it,” MJ observed wryly. 

“Ha ha,” you fired back humorlessly, but pulled your mom into a hug all the same. “Where’s Dad?”

The ref’s whistle signaled tip off and the beginning of the game, momentarily distracting you two. You were thrilled to see Benji starting – he really wanted to make JV when he started high school next year, and this was a step in the right direction. 

“Go Benji!!” MJ cheered before answering your question, “He hit traffic coming from the station. He’ll be here soon.” 

Your collective attention was pulled to the game unfolding in front of you, then MJ asked, “What have you been up to today?” 

“Me? I was at the society for a bit, helping with the baby.”

You didn’t need to see your mother to know that she tensed at the mention of the Spider-Society and Peter B.’s Mayday. It, understandably, weirded her out. 

“How can it not be strange to care for–”

“It would be if we were closer in age,” you pointed out. “But it’s just like babysitting with Mayday right now. And trust me, after all the versions of Dad I’ve met, hanging out with little me is nothing.” 

Despite being weirded out, your mom always tried to empathize, so she switched gears. “Anything interesting happen?” 

“Ugh, just more sequencing with Miguel - today was a tough one.”

“Why?”

“Fights with Dad from years ago that I know we’ve moved past, but still suck to watch.” 

Your mom took your hand in hers, a much-needed grounding gesture. “Well, you’re back in the present, in your corner of the universe now, sweetie.” 

You gave her hand an appreciative squeeze and took her words to heart, focusing on the basketball game in front of you. It didn’t take too long to put the earlier events from headquarters behind you – Benji scored a couple baskets and you took it upon yourself to meticulously document the game on your phone for memories and possible future blackmail. 

When your Dad did join you and MJ, you couldn’t help but hug him tightly. You buried your face into his coat, which smelled like a mix of smoke from the streets and his aftershave. 

It was Peter’s mix of spider and paternal instincts that prompted him to ask, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” you assured him, giving him some space. “I just–I love you, Dad.” 

“Love you too, Mayhem.” Where Mayday was Peter B’s moniker for his daughter, Mayhem was your dad’s nickname for you.

The game ended in victory for Benji’s team, the Midtown Mavericks, and you three waited for the youngest member of the Parker family to emerge from the locker room. 

Benji’s face when he saw you made any lingering discomfort you had leaving Miguel one thousand percent worth it. “You made it!” 

“Wouldn’t miss it!” you pulled Benji into a hug - however reluctant he was to it since he was a ~teenager~ now. “Dude, you put up points tonight!” 

But Benji had gotten distracted, so instead of responding to you, he murmured “Woah, that guy is swole.” 

You turned around to see who he was talking about and your jaw nearly hit the floor. 

It was Miguel. 

Even more incredibly, he was in civilian clothes. It wasn’t until you witnessed him in dark wash jeans, a henley, and a well-worn bomber jacket that you realized that you’d actually never seen Miguel in anything other than his spider suit. 

He called your name and you acknowledged him with a wave, flabbergasted. Even more astonished that you knew this very attractive hunk of man was your brother, “Wait, you know him?!”

“We work together,” you said quietly. 

“At the paper?” Benji was confused. 

“No, at my other job.” 

“Oh,” it clicked for him. “That makes sense. Man, I hope I get that jacked when I get my powers.” 

“Shhhh, be cool Benji,” you urged him. 

“Um, I’m not the one you have to worry about,” he harrumphed. “Oh shit, you like him.”

Though there was more than a decade between you and Benji, your little brother was still your little brother.  “No! He’s the head of the Spider-Society and he’s–you’ll see.” 

You took a step forward to greet Miguel before anyone else from your family could get to him. “Hey! What’re you doing here?” 

“I wanted to finish our work today, and since it’s your day off, I decided to come to you.” 

“Miguel O’Hara making a compromise? How not canon. Wonder how big of a hole that’s gonna tear in the multiverse.” 

“Shut up,” he ordered you playfully. 

“Miguel, good to see you!” Your dad strode over and pulled the younger spider-man into a handshake. 

“You too, Dr. Parker.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how oddly deferential Miguel was with your dad. He’d met Peter first, when he was establishing the Arachnohumanoid Polymultiverse. Miguel was stunned to discover that this Peter was not only retired, but had a full-grown daughter who’d taken up his crime-fighting mantle. Apparently your dad’s canon was particularly important and central to the greater Spiderverse, which meant Miguel would pester you with questions about him constantly. 

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked, “You don’t usually make house calls.” 

Before Miguel could explain, an elbow nearly sent you into careening into his broad chest. Mom. 

“Miguel, this is my mom, Mary Jane.” 

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker,” Miguel dutifully offered his hand to her. 

“The pleasure is mine,” your mom gushed, “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Benji was right. He was not the person you had to be worried about. A rip in the multiverse to swallow you whole would be rather convenient right about now. 

Miguel’s brow creased. “You have?”

“She hasn’t,” you intervened. “Like two or three things in passing, max. Promise I haven’t broken my NDA or you know, the superhero code of secrecy or anything.” 

Mercifully, Miguel let it slide for the time being. He turned to your brother. “And you must be Benji.” 

“Yeah,” Benji confirmed, doing a terrible job of pitching his voice lower. “‘Sup, bro.” 

Jesus Christ. At this point, you were ready to rip the fabric of reality yourself to end this. 

“Congrats on the win. Hate to do this, but I need to steal your sister for a bit.” 

“No problem, I know she’s fine with it.” Perhaps Benji needed a reminder regarding which sibling had the super powers. “Also, what’s your workout–”

“Well, as fun as this all is, we should probably get back to work.”

Your family didn’t put up much of a fight – thank God – as pleasantries were exchanged and you and Miguel took off. You hoped Miguel didn’t catch when your mother mouthed “So handsome!!” to you as everyone said their goodbyes. Finally, it was just the two of you walking down East 36th Street. 

“Sorry about them,” you began. 

He looked at you, puzzled. “Why?” 

“My family. Embarrassing.” 

“They’re not embarrassing. They’re…they’re nice,” there was pain behind Miguel’s eyes. “It’s interesting. Your brother hasn’t experienced any spider-abilities, has he?” 

“No,” you confirmed. “Not yet.”

You two slowed to stop on the corner. Miguel looked at you expectantly. “So, where to?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You said you wanted to do this in an environment where you ‘had access to alcohol and carbs’.” 

“Oh! Right. Hmmm, where are we?” you looked up at the cross streets above you. “36th and 3rd? I know a place.” 

You took Miguel to a little hole-in-the-wall Italian spot nearby. Since it was so close to Benji’s school and your old middle and high school, you had spent many a week night at their tables, either working on homework or chowing down after basketball practice. 

Therefore, the staff knew you – it was a family owned spot, you’d basically grown up with the owner’s children, Maria and Chris. Though you graduated from Midtown Charter a looong time ago, they still took care of you. Maria had even let you use their first aid kit once, no questions asked, after a nasty Spider-Girl skirmish nearby. You didn’t suspect she knew anything, but even if she did, you could trust Maria to be discreet. 

At least, you thought you could trust Maria, but when she showed you and Miguel to your table, and Miguel made a pit stop at the restroom, she very indiscreetly asked, “Daaaamn, girl. He your boyfriend? Because you–”

“No!”

“You getting dicked down by him?” 

“No!” 

“Can I get dicked down by him? He single? Does he like the ladies?” 

“Maria, he’s a colleague. Actually, he’s my superior. So no…unfortunately, no.” 

Maria cackled with delight. “That’s a pen worth sticking in your company ink. I’ll bring you some garlic bread.”

“And a glass of red wine,” you added. “no, a bottle.”

“That’s my girl!” 

In theory, you had thought that reviewing sequencing outside of headquarters would’ve been less awkward, but in reality, it was more so. You couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of Miguel in normal clothes, the intimacy of having a meal together when usually your interactions were so sterile and professional, plus there was a little voice in your head screaming that THIS WAS BASICALLY A DATE on repeat.

“So should we pick up where we left off?” Miguel asked. The question brought you back down to Earth. Despite that little persistent voice in your head oohing and ahhing at him, it was clear that Miguel didn’t think this was a date. This dinner was a means to end, nothing more. 

“Let me get a little wine drunk first,” you bargained. 

“Yeah, but you have sped-up metabolism, so that’ll take at least–” 

“That was a joke. Miguel, when was the last time you went out to dinner?” 

He seemed to truly consider the question, then, “I don’t know.” 

You’d never heard Miguel say those three words in that order before. 

“I promise you I will go over my cringe teen years with you, but can we eat some garlic bread and not get drunk off this very nice bottle of wine first?” 

“You’re worse than Lyla,” his eyes narrowed. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“She’s always trying to get me to take breaks.”

“You should! There’s only so much self-flagellation a human can take, even if they’re a superhero.” 

Miguel’s response was a very inarticulate grumble. Maria dropped off the wine, bread, and took your order. You didn’t know what was more insane – the amount of food Miguel ordered or how unabashedly Maria was ogling him. 

“Let me guess, Lyla’s the one who suggested the field trip to my home dimension?”

Another grumble, this one in the affirmative. 

“Classic,” you remarked with a snort before taking a gulp from your glass. “I love that your AI is smarter than you.” 

“Of course she is, she can access all of the multiverse’s knowledge in a nano-second.’

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?” 

“Can we not talk about me for a second?” 

“Why?” 

“Because…because, I don't know, I was hoping doing this in a more casual environment would–it’d make it feel more like a conversation.” 

“We are having a conversation.” 

“Jeez, Miguel,” you took another sip of wine. “It’s not easy digging through my past like this. A lot of the time it feels more like an interrogation.” 

“Ah.” 

“Yeah. And don’t get me wrong, I want to help you, help the Spider-Society, but the one-sidedness of this is exhausting.”

“Exhausting.” He sounded dubious. 

“You know what? Forget it. I’ll take care of the bill and see you tomorrow, and we can go back to reviewing the sequencing like we normally do. I should know better than to complain to you.” 

Miguel looked at you if your words had stung him. “You can complain to me.” 

“No, I can’t,” you disputed. “You’re the most self-sacrificing Spider out of any of us–which is really saying something, by the way–and I feel lame talking about my feelings with you.”

“And that’s why our reviews feel like interrogations,” he was putting it together. 

“Yeah. Sorry to drag you out of HQ.”

Miguel scrutinized you with a long, unreadable look before announcing, “I’m not leaving before I have my bolognese.”

You didn’t know whether to smile or scream. Miguel may have lacked the traditional spidey precognitive sense, and the signature spider sense of humor, but he definitely had the stubbornness you all seemed to possess. 

You shot him a sidelong glare. “Why did you come here?” 

“I told you - I wanted to finish sequencing and Lyla suggested coming to you.” 

“But you didn’t have to take her suggestion.”

Miguel’s large frame shifted in the chair that suddenly appeared too small for him. “Like you said, she’s smarter than me, so I did. And yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve gone out to dinner.”

You didn’t know how to react to that. Right before the silence became intolerable, Miguel spoke again, “You still with that gu–’

“No.” The last thing you wanted to talk about with Miguel was your failed relationship with Gene, and you’d once discussed the correlation of getting your first period could’ve had with your powers emerging with him.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I mean, you get it.”

Miguel at last took a sip from his glass. “All too well.” 

“The price of being a hero, right?” you sent him a small, sympathetic smile across the table. “Or at least that’s what I tell myself.” 

“Your parents seemed to have figured it out,” he pointed out. 

“Well, that took like decades, and according to you, they’re canon, right? So it was meant to be. I guess that’s one of the comforts of having a canon-confirmed soulmate.” 

“Yeah, if you're Peter Parker.” 

Your heart sank at the implication. “So that means if a Spider isn’t Peter we’re meant to die alone?” 

“I don’t know,” Miguel’s eyes were averted. “Maybe only if you’re a Miguel O’Hara.” 

“Stop, you could get anyone in this restaurant to sleep with you,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Our waitress has to resist climbing on top of you whenever she passes the table.”

He swatted away the implication as if it were a pest. “That’s different.”

“You know, it might help with the stress.”

“What?”

“Letting someone climb on top of you.”

Miguel glared at you, “Don’t.”

“See? It’s not fun being on the other side of the questions,” you smirked. Your conversation was briefly suspended when Maria returned with your entrees. After thanking her, you refocused back on Miguel, “Can I ask you something else?”

“No.”

“DADA!” A child, who couldn’t have been more than three, screeched happily from a neighboring table. 

Miguel froze. For the first time in the several months that you’d known him, you saw his face soften. The warmth that filled his eyes at the sight of the toddler was undeniable. The fond expression hardened back into his stoic facade within an instant, yet Miguel couldn’t fully conceal the anguish that clearly still haunted him. He never could. 

“Sorry,” you said softly. 

He shook off your condolences. “What’d you want to ask me?” 

“Have you tried seeing anyone after…” it felt forbidden to say Gabriella’s name out loud. 

“What’s the point?” Miguel shrugged. “I don’t have the time, even if I wanted to.” 

“Right,” you hedged. 

Eventually, you and Miguel were able to find things to talk about outside of work and your respective traumas. You compared notes on the lamest villain you’d each encountered rounding up anomalies, discussed the idea of a nursery for spider-babies, or as Miguel insisted on calling them, “second-generation Spiders” – Peter couldn’t keep taking his kid on missions, plus Jessica Drew had just learned she was expecting – you even got Miguel to open up about his teenage days some. 

“Makes sense you were a rebel,” you chuckled, taking one last bite of the tiramisu Maria insisted was on the house.  

“Yeah? Why?” Miguel prodded.

“Because you-re so uptigh–upstanding now.” 

You were treated to another rare grin from Miguel, this time a half smile rather than a quarter. “Nice save.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you contended with put-on innocence. 

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t always like what I have to do, you know.” 

Your gaze locked directly with his for a breath-taking second, his eyes garnets in the low light of the dining room. “We should get going, I've taken you away from headquarters for long enough.” 

“You act like I’ve never left HQ before, and if anything, I took you away from your family,” Miguel parried, yet stood up nonetheless. You followed suit, only mildly disappointed he didn’t argue with you about leaving. As awkward as this dinner initially was, you’d actually ended up enjoying it. “I’ll take you home.”

Miguel’s words stopped you in your tracks, “You know I’m the protector of this city, right?” 

“Obviously, I—” he huffed as you waved goodbye to Maria and exited back onto the street. “Mierda May, I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

Oh. Oh. Did Miguel think this was a date too? Date was too strong of a word – did Miguel think this was a not-entirely-work-related-hang too? 

You struggled to keep your face blasé. “Ah, okay. We taking the subway or are we swinging?” 

Miguel shot you a look as if the choice was obvious, which is how you found yourself traipsing across the city with Spider-Man 2099. You’d traveled by web plenty of times with Miguel before on missions, but there was something about it being the two of you, in your city, that made it feel just a little bit special. 

And to be honest, you’d never get enough of watching Miguel’s body hurtle through the air – despite his bulk and brawn, he was agile and lithe as he swung from building to building with you. You nearly plunged into traffic on Sixth Avenue after your thoughts had wandered to what those bulging muscles looked like unencumbered by that skin-tight suit of his. 

When you arrived at your apartment in Morningside Heights, you were suddenly self-conscious. You’d never brought a Spider to your residence, and Miguel was likely the hardest to impress of them all. 

He studied your modest one-bedroom with the same intensity as he did his screens at the Spider-Society. 

“It’s not much, I know,” you began, “and with Spider-Girl stuff, I don’t have the time to keep it as tidy as I'd like to.”

“It’s perfect,” he mumbled before catching himself. “I mean, it’s perfect for you.” 

“Yeah, I don’t need much, but it gets good light during the day and was the highest floor I could afford at my price point,” you removed your mask as you babbled on. 

“Makes sense,” Miguel nodded. 

You had no idea where to go from there – what on Earth was the man playing at? Should you offer him water, another drink, the best spot to portal back to HQ? He was lingering in your space, seemingly fascinated by the framed prints on your walls, the photos on the coffee table and credenza. 

“Um, do you need to use the restroom or something? Because it’s right through there,” you motioned to the appropriate door. 

“I’m good for now.”

THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE? You hollered in your head. Externally, you kept playing hostess, “Let me get you a glass of water then–”

Yet Miguel caught your wrist before you could retreat into your tiny, galley kitchen. You weren’t proud of how your heart leapt and your breath hitched at the contact. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting back?” 

He shrugged, “I should, but–”

“But what?” 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said…about letting someone climb on top of me.” 

You gulped, “Sorry, that was so inappropriate of me–”

“It was. Inappropriate, that is, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea,” he tugged you closer to him. You could barely stand to meet his eyes, alight with desire, while your heart was pounding embarrassingly fast. 

“Um, judging by the–uh, do you want me to climb on top of you, Miguel?” you were always so much smoother in your daydreams about him. 

His lips hovered dangerously near yours. “Do you want to climb on top of me?” 

The closer you got to Miguel, the faster your brain turned to scrambled eggs. His large, sure hands had settled on your hips. 

“Uh huh,” was the best you could muster before he crashed your lips together. 

Miguel’s kiss was searing and all-consuming – it felt as if the longer your mouths moved against each other, the more your body melted into his. He was tall, so tall, and even for a superhero like yourself, it was difficult to keep yourself perched on the balls of your feet to reach his skilled, hungry mouth. 

He seemed to sense your struggle, and without breaking your liplock, he scooped you up into his arms. It was foreign but not unwelcome – you were so used to being the strongest, the person who held others, the hero. Therefore, being held so effortlessly in Miguel’s arms was nothing short of exhilarating. You weren’t the strongest person in the room anymore, you could surrender. You loved it.

Miguel pressed your back into the nearest wall, causing an emphatic moan to leave you when your hips became flush with his. You could already feel him – hot, hard, and big – between the flimsy fabric of your spider-suits. Instinctually, you canted your heat against his, delighting in the way he seemed to grow hotter, harder, not to mention unbelievably bigger, when you did. 

“Bedroom?” he gasped between harsh, ardent kisses. 

You managed to fling a hand in the correct direction, and next thing you knew, Miguel was depositing you onto your bed. You propped yourself up, leaning back on your palms to take in the man towering over you at the edge of your bed. In a flash of color and light, his suit disappeared from his strapping physique, and the sight of Miguel naked intoxicated you more than alcohol ever could. 

His shoulders seemed even broader without the unstable particles of his suit covering them. His pecs were massive, which made a delectable ratio when his chest tapered down to a chiseled abdomen and slim hips. Slim hips that framed the biggest cock you’d seen outside of porn – hell, maybe even including porn. He was long and thick – it made a dark thrill race down your spine when you contemplated how the hell that was going to fit inside of you. 

Miguel noticed you marveling at his package, misinterpreting the rapacious glint in your eye as unease, “I’ll prep you, I won’t hurt you.” 

“Oh, I’m not worried” you glanced back up at his face coquettishly. 

“No?” Miguel cocked an eyebrow and advanced toward you on the bed, a jaguar stalking its prey. He nudged you onto your back and pinned your wrists to your comforter, “maybe you should be.” 

You muscled out of Miguel’s grip and switched positions so you were straddling him. Only then did you lean closer and whisper into his ear, “I can take it.” 

Miguel growled, and within an instant, you were on your back once again as he pawed at your suit. Unlike his costume, your spider-suit was made of plain old fabric, so there was a bit of fumbling, cursing in Spanish, nervous giggling, and a mumbled comment about ‘making you a suit like mine’ from Miguel before you were nude as well. 

He splayed you out against your mattress as if you were a feast before him. Your first instinct was to try and cover yourself but Miguel’s dark gaze froze you. A pleased groan rumbled from his chest and then his large hands flew to your breasts. “Such full, perky tits.”

You moaned in response to his ministrations. How was this real? You and Miguel were touching each other – naked – and you hadn’t woken up yet. 

“It’s all for you,” you mewled, relishing his hot palms on your sensitive buds. 

Another growl ripped from his chest before he swooped down and sucked one of your nipples into his warm, wanting mouth. You keened, a pathetic, high-pitched sound, and you wove your fingers into his dark locks as he gorged himself on your tits. 

The pull of Miguel’s mouth on your peaks was made only better when he snaked a hand between your legs and ran a finger along the seam of your sex. You bucked at the touch, your reaction causing Miguel to lift his head from your bosom. 

“Mmmm, you like it when I play with your pussy, cariño?”

At this point words had all but left you so you nodded and whined in the affirmative. Miguel’s digit parted your folds, tracing up and down, then found your clit and rubbed slow, tortuous circles into the nub. 

“So wet for me, bebita,” he observed, maddeningly casually, while he played you like an instrument. “This is all for me, huh?”

Your head thrashed back and forth on your comforter with a sob, both from pleasure and bashfulness. Now there was no downplaying how horny Miguel made you. 

“Shhh,” he cooed at you, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his groin, “feel what you do to me.”

This time your moan was unabashed as your hand circled around his girth. “Fuck, you’re so big.” 

“I know,” he grunted. Normally, such braggadocio from a man would be an immediate turn off to you. But Miguel wasn’t being arrogant, not when he was referring to the thick, pulsing hardness you were currently caressing. “Gotta get you ready for me.”  

He guided your hand away from his member, even despite your protests, to wrench your thighs wider and bury his head between them. The realization alone that Miguel O’Hara was about to eat you out almost made you come, yet actually feeling his tongue on your needy cunt was infinitely better. He licked a stripe from your perineum to your clit, tearing another ragged moan from you when his tongue focused in on the bundle of nerves. 

Miguel chuckled against your folds at your enthusiastic praise and redoubled his efforts. Your fingers reflexively tangled in his inky locks once again as he continued his delectable assault on your pussy. The way Miguel tasted you matched with how he seemed to approach everything – he was vehement and determined to bring you pleasure like how he was when he worked. He managed to just stay on the right side of rough as he slurped at you..though perhaps that was a bit different than how he fought.

He speared his tongue into your hole, affording you the opportunity to grind your clit against his prominent nose. In your pleasure-filled haze, you briefly fretted that you were suffocating Miguel, but when you tried to scooch away and give him some air, the man grunted and pulled your hips closer to him.

You keened again when one of his thick fingers joined the fray as he prepped you. After all the sexual tension, all the self-denial, and all the excitement the night had held, it felt so good to clench around something. He was again methodical with his preparation, allowing you to adjust to one digit before adding another, and another. It couldn’t have made a starker contrast with how he was devouring your sex. Even in the bedroom, Miguel O’Hara was full of contradictions. It didn’t take long for your breaths to become more shallow, for your cries to reach a higher pitch as you climaxed around his hefty fingers. The combination of the penetration and the stimulation of your clit with his mouth was too good to resist. 

You were slightly relieved that Miguel remained nestled between your legs while you rode out your peak. The orgasm he’d given you was much too good to be able to control your facial expressions. 

He at last came up for air once you’d begun floating down from your peak. A primal pride surged through you at the sight of your juices smeared all over his lips and chin. You couldn’t help but smash your mouths together, eager to sample the combination you two made. It was all too easy to get lost in a kiss with Miguel, yet as you plundered his mouth with your tongue, your hand crept back down his groin. 

This time it was Miguel who moaned into your mouth as you returned him to full mast with feather-light, teasing touches. 

“I need to fuck you,” he gasped between kisses. 

“Finally,” you bantered back. 

A growl from Miguel and then he tackled you back flat on the bed. You couldn’t help the giggle – partly from nerves, partly from anticipation – that escaped you at his actions, despite the visage of a hulking, intimidating man hovering over you could be frightening in another context. 

“Do you have protection?” 

You hesitated. You kept a box of condoms in your bedside drawer, but given Miguel’s size, they’d be inadequate. 

“None that would fit you,” you confessed, stealing another glance at his large erection. It was truly a sight to behold. Miguel deflated slightly, fearing penetration was off the table, and usually it would be. You were firmly a two methods of contraception girl, but there was no way you were going to pass up this chance to have sex with Miguel. “Don’t worry Spidey, I’m on the pill.” 

“Gracias a Dios,” he muttered, then wasted no time situating himself between your hips. He drew yet another mewl from you when he slapped the tip of his cock a few times on your clit before lining himself up with your entrance. 

He found you looking at him expectantly. And though Miguel mostly saw desire in your eyes, he could see the glimpse of unease too. He assured you, “I’ll go slow.” 

You nodded, you trusted him after all, but nothing could prepare you for the stretch of when Miguel finally pushed into you. Just the tip was already splitting you apart more than Gene, or any former lover for that matter, ever had. 

“Breathe,” Miguel rasped. You couldn’t tell if he was advising you or himself though. It struck you then that you’d perhaps achieved the damn-near impossible – disarming the notoriously closed-off Miguel O’Hara. He looked beautiful, biting his plush lower lip as he slowly rocked more and more of his huge cock inside of you. 

Your back arched off the mattress of the sensation of being progressively speared on the monster that Miguel called a dick. It was too much and not enough all at once, and your fingers dug into your comforter below you. He tried to distract you from any potential pain, Miguel’s index finger returning to your barely-recovered clit. 

“That’s it, open up for me,” he husked. Your head swam at the mix of his enormous manhood stretching you to your limit and his tender, in-control tone. The realization hit you harder than a punch from an anomaly. In that moment, fear skittered down your throat and pooled into your stomach, resting right above where you two were joined. He’s going to ruin me for other men, isn’t he? 

You couldn’t think any further since not only was Miguel fully seated within you, he had asked you a question. Your eyes glassy and pupils blown, found his, and he repeated himself. “You okay? Can-can I move?”

“Yes,” you gasped. In case your breath affirmation left any room for doubt, you added, “please.”

Another grunt from your lover and Miguel at last began to thrust into you. Your arms flew from the bed to his impossibly wide shoulders, your nails digging into the caramel, taut skin there. You couldn’t tell exactly when it’d happened, lost in the deliciously lewd sounds you were making between the slap of your bodies, your labored breaths, and his determined staccato grunts while Miguel railed you, but your hips had begun to meet his. 

“M-more Miguel,” you urged him as you dragged your fingertips down the expanse of his back. Each of your hands grabbed a fistful of that glorious ass and squeezed to drive home your point. 

“You sure?” 

You moaned. It was as if he couldn’t give it to you hard or faster enough. You used your grip on the globes of his perfect rear to try and force him to increase to the pace and force you needed him to fuck you at. 

Miguel laughed. A dark and stirring sound that made you involuntarily tighten around his girthy length. “Alright bebita, but remember…you asked for this.” 

His words ignited something defiant within you. You pulled Miguel’s head from where it had fallen into the crook of your neck so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I’m not some pillow princess from Nueva. I’m just as strong as you are, I can go just as hard you can, and I want you to fuck me.” 

Your lover’s eyes darkened at your demand. The growl that ripped from his throat was your only warning before Miguel unleashed the full force of his strength on you. You keened in pleasure as he all but drove you through your bedframe and the wall behind it. Miguel captured your wrists once more and restrained you against the mattress as he absolutely pounded into your pussy. 

His drilling drew another ecstatic cry from your mouth. Miguel glared down at you, his eyes nearly crazed, his face barely lit in the ambient light from the street. It truly was infuriating to you how beautiful this man was. You watched his brow furrowed in concentration – not on his stupid screens for once – and his dark hair shift in time with his thrusts.  Your features contorted in pleasure when Miguel switched from drilling into you to swiveling his hips to stuff you with his cock. His movements were deliberate and slow, he was trying to get as deep inside of you as he could. You almost went cross-eyed at the feel of his bulbous cockhead punching against your cervix. 

The criminal undulations of his hips extracted a little yip from you each time he pistoned into you. He grinned down at you wolfishly. Equal parts indignation and arousal bloomed within you. Also, was the first time you'd ever seen Miguel smile? Not a little half-smirk or a humorless quirk of his lips, but an unabashed smile?

“Want me to back off?” 

Oh, there was no way you were going to take that lying down. Even if Miguel’s pubic bone was perfectly grinding into your clit. 

You let out a growl of your own and summoned all the power in your core muscles to wrestle Miguel back and claim the high ground. Out of breath when you found yourself seated on Miguel’s dick, his large, muscled body prone beneath you, you braced yourself on his rippled abdomen.

“Is the itsy-bitsy Spider-Girl gonna ride my cock?” he taunted you. If Miguel didn’t wear that arrogant, playful smirk so well, you would’ve wiped it from his lips. 

You slid your hands up the length of his chest and leaned over, your face hovering over his. “That depends. Can 2099 handle it?” 

Miguel answered you with an impatient buck of his hips up into your sex. You giggled as you straightened up again, tweaking one of Miguel's nipples as you went. You relished the little shudder it sent through him. “Alright, but remember baby, you asked for this.”

He snorted out a laugh, which you quickly silenced once you began riding Miguel like the stud he was. “Hnnn–shock, bebita.”

“Ah,” you sighed as you bounced on his prick. Before sleeping with Miguel, you had assumed the term “feeling him in your guts” was hyperbole. Not with him. “Fuck, you’re even bigger like this.” 

A large hand traced its way up one of your thighs, now lightly covered with a sheen of sweat, past your sex, split apart by his shaft, to where Miguel’s manhood made the slightest bulge in your lower belly. His smile became wider and even cockier. “It’s good, no?”

You gave him a nonverbal, but enthusiastic, reply. He smacked your ass in satisfaction, “Yeah c’mon, cariño, ride me. Wanna watch your tits bounce.” 

You officially hated Miguel and his big, thick, perfectly sized cock. Where as with other partners you’d smack them right back with a zinger, all you could do was moan again. His naughty, domineering words did nothing but excite you. There was something about him and the way he fucked that made you incapable of doing little else than enthusiastically submitting to him. You leaned back, your fingers clutching onto Miguel’s thick thighs to stability as you changed angles and gave him a better view of your breasts jiggling in time with your motions. 

“Ay, s�� bebita,” Miguel’s hands flew to your hips to intensify the frantic mashing of your bodies together, “Ven aquí.”

He gathered your torso in his hulking arms and pulled you closer so that he could coax a breast into his mouth again as you rode him. 

“You gonna come for me Miguel?” you panted.  

“No,” he sounded as winded as you were. “Not yet.”

You clenched around him and snickered. “Are you sure?” 

“¡Coño!” Miguel snarled at the feel of your already blistering, tight pussy suffocating his dick further. “¡No más – basta de esto!”

The vision of your bedroom swam when Miguel lifted you off his pulsing member and dropped you back on your stomach onto the mattress facing the foot of the bed.. You could hear him shifting behind you, and you blindly groped for the lower metal railing of your bedframe’s footboard, only vaguely aware what was to come. 

A grunt from Miguel, and the next thing you knew one of your pillows was stuffed under your lower belly and his massive hands were back on either side of your hips. Your lover didn’t give you any notice before shoving his fat erection back inside of your already tender pussy. 

You shouted at the feeling of his cock stuffing you to the brim once again. Miguel’s hands appeared above your head where you held on for dear life as he impaled you on his prick.

“Ahhh!” you clamored, desperately trying to pull enough air in your lungs to function as Miguel squatted behind you. “I’ve never been so full! Oh God, Miguel, it’s so much…so much…”

Miguel responded with a pleased growl, and merely rammed into you harder. You were peripherally aware of the clanging of the pieces of your metal bed frame clanging together in protest at the vigor of your and Miguel’s coupling, but there were too many sensations overwhelming you at once to focus on one in particular. Not even when the metal groaned and the angle Miguel fucked you at changed did you pay attention to what was actually happening. You merely pushed back onto his cock as much as you could, your fingertips scrabbling into the folds of your comforter. 

Your eyes screwed shut at the barrage of stimuli - the unrelenting stretch of Miguel’s hardness,  his harsh but steadying grip on your hips, the light scratch of fabric beneath you on your skin, the little puff of warmth on the back of your neck from Miguel’s labored exhalations. You were sure this was better than any high any drug could provide. You hadn’t tried many, not even Rapture, and but nothing could top being thoroughly fucked into your mattress by Miguel O’Hara.

Miguel’s dogged grunts morphed into shouts when he at last found his release, spurting rope after rope of hot, creamy cum into your welcoming cunt. You found yourself crying out along with him as he emptied his load, your walls bearing down around his length as you both rode out his high. Miguel flooded your pussy with his seed and before you could even try to adjust to the feeling, he withdrew his cock from you, tearing a quite pathetic-sounding whimper from your mouth. 

Miguel pulled your ass cheeks apart to examine your stretched, puffy pussy leaking his cum. His chest rumbled with primal delight. “Hermosa.”

You’d barely had a chance to catch your breath when Miguel dove back in for more, this time his eager, demanding tongue again invading your channel. You whimpered again, your pitch jumping an octave at Miguel’s needy tongue not only collecting his spunk from your pussy, but flicking the muscle against your clit. He was a man possessed, he ate you out as if he needed you to orgasm one more time for his survival. 

You gave him what he wanted (how could you not?), and once the crest of your pleasure had subsided, you lightly pushed him away from your gaping, abused cunt. 

The first thing you noticed when your wits returned to you was how much closer the ground had become. 

“Oh my God,” you put it together and turned to face your partner, "we broke the bed.”

Miguel arched a brow from where he leant back into the pillows. “Are you surprised?”

You frowned at him.  

“I’ll fix it,” he promised. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m going to…” you trailed off your gaze floating to the bathroom.

“Do your thing.”

“Can…can I get you anything?” 

Miguel glanced down at his crotch. “A towel?” 

You nodded. “Say no more.” 

You ducked into your en-suite, and once you were sure the door was firmly closed behind you, you proceeded to have a freak out to yourself in the mirror. You scarcely believe your own appearance – lips kiss swollen, hair a veritable bird's nest, your mascara smudged into rings around your eyes. Miguel had destroyed you in the best of ways. 

The thought sent a little aftershock of pleasure through you. You didn’t dally any longer — you relieved yourself, washed your hands, ran a brush through your hair and splashed water on your face. After dampening a washcloth for Miguel, you returned to the bedroom, where your bed frame was properly vertical again. 

You glimpsed the glow of Miguel’s distinctive red webs holding the broken metal rods together. The other Spider was reclining on your mattress, a sheet haphazardly tossed over his groin to preserve his modesty. Even so, the sight of him made you go weak in the knees. He really did remind you of some sort of a large cat given the odd grace in which he lounged with, the evidence of his power and strength so poorly hidden under the surface of his skin. 

“Get a new frame and expense it to Spider-HQ,” Miguel's baritone snapped you out of your reverie. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” You tossed him the towel. 

His eyes raked over your naked form. But instead of the desire you’d found there earlier, his gaze was full of concern. “You okay?”

“Yes. Very okay. A little sore but good sore, ya know?” 

“Good,” Miguel busied himself with cleaning up. 

“I mean, what’s the point of having superpowers if you can’t enjoy extra rough sex?” you joked. 

“Yeah, about that,” Miguel refused to meet your eyes. “As um…great as all this was…I think we–it should be a one-time thing.” 

“Um, duh.” He looked up at you hastily and you continued, “Miguel, neither of us are anywhere close to ready or in the right place for a relationship.” 

Your heart disagreed with your words, but you uttered them anyway. Not because it was how you truly felt, but you knew it was what he wanted to hear. Miguel associated any sense of closeness or vulnerability with weakness and danger. Trying to get him to see otherwise was a fool's errand, and it was easier on your heart to convince yourself into concurring with him. 

Oddly, Miguel didn’t seem to relax at your assurances. He looked dubious. “Are you sure?” 

“Oh my God, you are so cocky!” you accused him with a playful slap to the broad, tan chest. “Spare me the fake worry 2099, you may be amazing at sex, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to be professional with you at HQ.” 

“Amazing at sex?” Mirguel parroted you with a smirk. 

You slapped him again. “Of course that’s the only part you heard.”

“Sorry but those are very distracting,” he claimed, his gaze focused on your exposed breasts. 

You scoffed and grabbed a pillow to temporarily cover yourself. “Hang on there, Spider-Man. Yes, you are…not terrible at showing a lady a good time, no, you don’t have to worry about me being clingy at work, and yes, I’m sure so stop looking at me like that!” 

You tossed the pillow away and straddled him. “Now I don’t know about you, but it’s only midnight. If this is indeed a one-time thing, I say we make the most of the night and the fact that no one has bothered us with some multiversal emergency yet.” 

Miguel finally let it go, choosing to focus on your very nude body on top of his. His hips moved on their own accord, grinding his cock, already stiffening back up to full mast, against where you were still so nice and stretched for him. 

“Vamos, bebita,” he whispered into your ear. His fingers dug into your sides possessively in a way that almost let you believe he was doing it because you were his. “Wanna fuck you on the ceiling.” 

***

You shouldn't have been surprised that Miguel didn’t stay the night. You were honestly shocked when he collapsed beside you after the hours you’d spent vehemently fucking. Your bed was now held together by a mix of both his and your webs, one of your framed photos on the wall lay shattered on the floor to be dealt with later, and the ceiling now sported a dent that was going to be very difficult to explain to your landlord. 

The memory of Miguel leaving was hazy at best. After so many rounds of deeply satisfying, intensely athletic sex, you felt like you could sleep for a week. Yet the shift and dip of Miguel’s large frame exiting the bed was enough to wake you. You could sort of recall a small flash of light and chirpy voice which must have been Lyla…and you also had a vague memory of him replying in a hushed rumble as if not to wake you up. Or was he telling you he was heading out? Everything jumbled together under the fog of sleep. 

Either way, you had to tell yourself that the sensation of a large hand caressing your face and then tenderly stroking down the sleep-warm skin of your back was a dream. Not for Miguel’s sake, but yours. 

Thanks to super-spider stamina, you only really needed a couple extra shots of espresso to function somewhat normally the following day at headquarters. You were angry at your instinct to avoid Miguel. You both were adults that had an adult, mature conversation that last night’s activities were merely a form of stress release that didn’t mean anything. It was hard to believe however, when you could still feel the phantom shape of him inside of you. 

Besides, it’s not even like you could avoid him if you wanted to. You were scheduled to go over more sequencing today with Miguel, and you were dead set on not blinking first in the post-sex-awkwardness stand-off. 

“Hey, Miguel!” your voice reverberated in the vast space. 

Several agonizing moments later, his platform lowered enough for you two to start conversing. If he was at all bashful about seeing you, the man didn’t show it. 

“Good. You’re here.”

“Yep.” 

Miguel was all business. “I want to go back to the fight you had with your father. Lyla, take us to timestamp 46:90:45.”

Damn, and here you thought you were good at compartmentalizing. You did your best to hide any disappointment from reaching your face, playing along as if he hadn’t seen every crevice of your body the night before. 

***

Days turned into weeks, and you eventually, reluctantly accepted that Miguel had told you the truth that night. What you two had shared was really just a one-time lapse of his frighteningly strong self-restraint. 

You were enjoying a rare night in, parked on the couch, takeout boxes strewn about the coffee table, your favorite trashy reality show playing on your TV. You’d gotten injured taking down a Doc Ock variant a few days ago, and Miguel benched you to recuperate. You were all too happy to take a break, from him and Spider-Girling. Despite your complicated feelings for the man, he assigned a recently displaced Spider, Spider-Woman 1357, to pinch hit for you in your dimension while you healed up. It was the first time since you became a hero you had a day off with peace of mind. 

Just as you started another episode, a tingle raced down your spine. Your spider-sense. Something was about to happen. Out of all the possibilities of what could have followed, a portal opening in your living room and Miguel walking through was the last thing you would’ve guessed. You leapt up from the sofa. 

You instantly regretted your appearance - messy bun, no makeup, and ratty sweatpants. Miguel, as usual, looked immaculate in his skintight spider-suit. 

“Hey.” 

“Is this a booty call?”

“No.” 

“Don’t bullshit me–”

“It’s not, I swear! Coño, I came to check on you.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Why not?”

“Because you could have messaged me on my gizmo. It’s your preferred method of communication after all, ever since the last time you were in my apartment.” 

“May–”

Lyla appeared over his shoulder. “He missed you, that’s all.”

Miguel growled at his AI. “I’m going to sentence you to robot death via spreadsheets.” 

Lyla wasn’t threatened in the slightest. “Thank me later.” She disappeared before Miguel could try and make another retort. 

“You missed me?”

“No,” his denial was instant. “I just…I–”

“This is a booty call!” you crumpled up a napkin and chucked it at his large form. “Go home, Miguel!” 

He didn’t budge. “It’s not a booty call. I…what are you watching?”

“The Realest Housewives of Manhattan. What, don’t judge me!”

Miguel couldn't keep his face straight. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Seeing his eyes crinkle with amusement was infectious. You threw another napkin ball at him and then composed yourself. He wasn’t getting off the hook this easily. “Why are you here? Be honest with me. It’s the very least I deserve.”

“I wanted to see the shocking expensive bed frame you expensed to HQ for myself.” 

“You said I could and you didn't set a spending limit.” A wicked little grin pulled at the corners of your mouth. The bed frame from Restoration Hardware had been your own private form of revenge. “And I’m supposed to believe you wanting to see my bed – my bed that you broke–”

“Hey! We broke the bed–”

“--is not your thinly veiled excuse for seeking another roll in the hay? Enough with goddamn mind games Miguel.” He tried to speak but you pushed on, “I’m tired and this is the last thing I need.”

Miguel sobered. He hung his head. His mouth seemed to fight the words as they left his lips.  “Alright, fine. I missed you.” 

You ignored your heartbeat’s sharp increase and schooled your features to maintain a neutral appearance. “I have some extra Pad Thai if you want.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“So this may not be a booty call, but does anyone other than Lyla know you’re here?”

“No.” 

You nodded. “Come. Sit. I just started the episode where Beverly throws her poodle a forty thousand dollar birthday party.” 

“Nothing you said just now made sense,” Miguel protested, but took a seat on your couch anyway. 

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed!! Miguel has fully rotted my brain so I thought it only fair to share the horniness. Of course I have more imagined in this AU, fingers crossed I can find more time to write (comments and reblogs and likes help!)

Translations:

Mierda - Shit 

cariño - dear

bebita - baby

Gracias a Dios - Thank God

Ven aquí - Come here

¡Coño! - Damnit!

¡No más – basta de esto! -No more, enough of this!

Hermosa - beautiful

Vamos, bebita - Come on, baby

Taglist: @plethora-of-imagines, @itdobe-liza @absolutelybloodyhopeless @ninebluehearts, @oscarissac2099

#miguel smut #miguel x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfic #we're not here to f*ck spiders

[campbyler]

okay i need y’all to know that i stretched out reading this fic for as long as i emotionally could and it’s been 3ish weeks since i caught up and i have NOT stopped thinking about it. i feel like i’m reading a new favorite book and someone forced me to stop halfway!! lol so this is an appreciation ask <33 you’re such talented writers!!

also! how is it co-writing a fic? do you try to match writing styles or are you just naturally similar in that regard? i’m impressed that even with the distinctly different perspectives and multiple authors, it all feels so cohesive and seamless.

do you think you’ll continue writing together in the future once you’re done with this fic and its spinoffs?

((ps. i’m wishing i wasn’t a kid who got easily homesick because this story is making me nostalgic for experiences i didn’t really get to have (i tried and failed and sleep-away camps multiple times lol). i wanna live in this wholesome summer camp environment. ))

AHHH YAY i'm glad that you've been enjoying!! we wish more than anything it was done so that everyone could have the full story, but appreciate everyone's patience and kindness while we make sure to take the time to tell the story the right way! so thank YOU for your appreciation ask <3

we've had a really great time co-writing! when it was three of us, we would all go in and edit the current chapter to make sure that tone and vibes were the same, and i'd say we also all adapted our writing styles a bit to make sure that it flowed easily between the three of us! before we even started writing acswy, suni and i have always said that we have very similar writing styles with a few notable identifying quirks, so that's definitely been helpful in terms of having a consistent vibe, and something that makes us excited to work together in the future, too! we actually have written in the same doc before and it all flows really seamlessly which is very cool to see and be a part of :o) also we very recently talked about continuing to work together on collabs outside of acswy, and though it probably won't be for a while, i am excited for it!

if we could make camp whiteman a real place and invite you all we absolutely would so that we could all have the experience together!! tho i fear suni and i would have to live in the isolation cabin locked away from everyone else for our own protection 😗

#asks #^since people would KILL US STRAIGHT TO DEAD #also no we will not be sharing what our shared doc is. mind your business everyone <3 #howeverrr TY FOR THE ASK THIS WAS SO SWEET #our favorite kind of comments to get fr

[ssreeder]

Hey!! I just wanted to say thanks for all your hard work <3<3

I had been a little down when it came to creating more content or being involved in Zukka side of the fandom but seeing your update reminded me to just have fun. And okay this is going to sound bad but I swear I mean this as a compliment; I thought I was wasting my time working for months and years on the stuff I made, but then I realized your fic series brings me so much joy and I'd never, ever judge you for the amount of effort you put into your writing. Seeing it's actually inspiring, to see that someone holds that much passion and creativity and you are sharing it all for FREE. That a person could take all this time to intricately weave together a story, create memorable OCs, breathe new life and make the ATLA world so much bigger than it ever was in canon.

So thanks for accidentally giving me a kick in the butt to stop being judgy about my own work and making me realize you and every fan creator is AWESOME.

I hope you have a wonderful day, your writing is a blessing.

awwww I wanted to say thank you for sending me this ask! I know it’s not easy to put yourself out there, even on anon, so I think it’s cool you felt confident enough to come here and tell me about how you’re feeling.

I don;t think what you’re saying is bad at all haha, because honestly, I feel the same way. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wondered why the fuck am I still doing this? What’s the point? Do people even still care? What if it’s not good enough? What if people discover I have no fucking idea what I’m doing? Why am i spending so much of my time and effort doing this?? I mean… the self doubt is super real, and shiiiiiit let me discover one person that feeds into my self doubt and I’m full on spiraling haha. (Be nice to creators damn it! we are doing our damn best lol)

I’m really glad you think my fic is awesome, and if it weren’t people like you reminding me, I probably would have given up a long time ago haha. I do give my fic a lot of effort, and I hope you continue to give your creations the same amount of love and effort! I’m sure you’re amazing, and seriously don’t give up! I care about your creations and if I don’t get to stop neither do you! WOHOOO!!

Thanks for the ask anon sorry it took me so long to answer

#I am the kind of person who is like AWWWW NO ASKS… #then I get an ask and I’m like YAY ASK!!! #& then I;m like OH NO HOW DO I ANSWER THIS ASK!?!?!? #but then if I don’t get an ask in a while I assume everyone hates me and then the cycle starts over again when I get another ask #but seriously anon DON’T STOP CREATING!!!!! #I wish the voices in our head weren’t constantly trying to discredit us #I also think the pressure we put on ourselves to be good enough is fucking dumb #like who cares if people like reblog comment kudo all that stuff #but ugh we all care so much #I love that you see all my passion and creativity in LIAB because I do put a lot of effort into that stupid fic #and yeah it stresses me out but when I see that it brings people joy and its worth it #& its not even that it’s stressful to write #I fucking love writing it #but yeah don’t think you’re alone with the ‘what’s the point’ thoughts #I’m sure we’ve all been there #at least I know I have been there #and kind of still am in there hahaha #thanks for this ask anon I hope I didn’t ramble too much #I hope you show me when you create something new! I’d love to see it #LIAB #ask

[crossbackpoke-check]

9 people I'd like to get to know better

tagged by @coutoffoli 🥰 thank you!!

last song: boy by ra ra riot!! so many albums just came out though and i haven’t had time to listen to them all the way through (new mt. joy/rks/bleachers has been on a loop!!)

fav color: turquoise

currently watching: i am very bad about watching tv if someone else doesn’t sit down with me so… roommate & i are watching will trent, tracker, and we just finished gravity falls (i had never seen)

spicy/savory/sweet: savory for sure but i will admit to a sweet tooth sometimes

relationship status: carly jackson if you’re free on wednesday i’m free on wednesday you know. if you were free

current obsessions: hockey, ofc, and i just downloaded a bunch of library books i’ve been trying to work my way through including a memory called empire!

tagging @whitenikes, @gordiemeow, @songsandswords, @hiding-from-reality-56, @husshow, @beforewecame, @acheronist, @catboy-mahura and @love-leah, plus anyone else who wants to play!! (sorry if you’ve already done it and i didn’t see)

#yes I’m counting reading as an obsession because i never usually get to read & i’m actively making an effort lol #liv in the replies #thank you!!! getting over the anxiety of doing these through exposure therapy (doing them) #i feel like i didn’t take eight million years to answer and also did not word vomit as much so we are improving!!!! yay!!!! #couttoffoli #ask game

[boomerang109]

.

#i really don’t mind that im the kind of aspec where idk if a relationship is in the cards for me #but it’s so hard trying to figure out my life and just knowing I’m no one’s first choice #and so much of that is just the societal bullshit around independence #but like. it would just be so much easier if i could just get in a relationship and then be like okay now you’re stuck with me #cause rn everything feels so much and so overwhelming and there’s absolutely no one there who has to deal with it other than me and that’s #so unfair. humans aren’t built to go through this life alone #but all I know is that im a burden and I can’t ask for more #I truly have yet to come up with a post graduation plan that doesn’t sound like it’ll make me wanna off myself and isn’t that just great #like oh yay the freedom of being out of school #so I can do anything I want except I don’t want to do anything I just want to disappear forever krjfjfjejsjeje #to delete

[tomatoart]

YOUR LEON ART MEANS THE ENTIRE WORLD TO ME!!!!! The way you draw him and him being openly trans is how he lives in my brain forever and ever

AAACCKK THANK YOU SO MUCH.. I’m so so so so so happy my Leons can be tht for u!!!! He is just so trans to me I can’t see him any other way than being truely his transest self :] we need more openly trans beautiful ass male characters in our brains... 💙 I love yew 4 this it made me giggle teehee

#asks #not tomaart #ever art I’ve drawn of him I’ve put a trans flag in because it’s just sooo important to my little brain #it’s always so nice to see a character w trans characteristics openly in art imo so I love putting them there! #it’s like yay something I love is like me.. and they do it with so much love in their hearts for it! does that make sense sorry I know thts #not the main point of this but I’m stuck on that because I rlly feel sm love abt the trans community I’m like YAHHH U GET IT #:) so cool we r shaking hands

[mielgf]

besties…… i just completely impulse came out to my parents and it actually went very well given how abrupt it was

#my mom is like… a little more taken off guard than my dad but she still took it really well #she cried and i was like… please no but she was just glad that i finally told them #cause i told her i’ve known since i was like 12 that i like girls #wowza what the fuck!! #like okay?? idk how to go about my day now that was insane?? #i was disassociating for half of the conversation but like oh my god wow that happened #my sister also came out cause she was there and my mom asked her directly and she was just like… yeah i like girls too #and my parents were like 👁️👄👁️ TWO gay bitches in this house? that’s crazy #not actually but they were just like… oh okay they didn’t expect both 😭 #that’s what they get for asking directly though i guess #yeah holy shit wow okay in a bit of a state of shock but like… cool?? yay?? now they know?? #my mom asked if i had experimented and i was like lady i’m a virgin i haven’t touched ANYONE 😭 #did not actually say that but in my head it’s what i was thinking ajxisjjx #no mom i only know bc when i was 12 i watched britney spears’ toxic mv and now here i am still liking women #talk time

[inkykeiji]

today’s rainy day harvest (´∀｀)♡

they’re cucumbers!! i’m going to have some with hummus for lunch c:

#the rain is making me soooooooo sleepy #but yay cucumbers!!! :D #we got some tomatoes too so we’re gonna make a nice cucumber tomato salad #an italian staple haha #i’m gonna answer asks later today #hopefully i’m not to tired after i get all my work done ha ha ._. #have a fab wednesday everyone <3 #i wish i could share my cucumbers with u!!! #i know they kinda look like wonky dildos #but it’s okay #they’re organic~ #hahaha #clari chatters

[nyandela-catalogue]

Alt!Jonah, why do you and the other “counterparts” look so different and animal-like? It’s so fascinating to me.

We’re from the darkness, from the shadows. Familiar shapes at first until you look closer.

Is that your childhood rocking horse in the corner? No, that’s Brutus. It is always hungry.

Is that your toy pull-along alligator on the floor? No, that’s Adamned. He is becoming impatient.

Is that your old toy marionette slumped over against the wall? No, that’s the Actor. It is just pretending.

Is that your best friend Jonah, waving at you through the window, beckoning you closer, giving you the hope he was still alive after all that went wrong?

No. It’s just me. And I’m waiting for you.

-Alt!Jonah⚠️

(“general” you, btw. i like to be mysterious.)

#og #ask #anonymous #counterpart (nyandela catalogue) #alt!jonah post #plurality #system lore #! yay! #btw the whole ESWoD thing is a joke. i make those sometimes #it’s a fun little nickname for sure! #but i think ‘False Friend’ is better suited for me. #‘omg you guys make this sound so dramatic’ coping via art is encouraged #if i choose to be extra I Will Be Extra #i’m not mean- i swear! i am just serious. and self-important. 🤷 #yeah i’ll admit that. rarely are any of us that kind of way but considering we’ve been stepped all over like a doormat #i am here to be a counterbalance #anyway. whatever #time for a shower and then get high #< weed mention

[noburden]

the urge to make a face reveal after taking an above average picture of yourself

#and i also feel closer to the mutuals that i know what they look like #cause it’s like oh you’re a real person!!! yay!!!! #and i want u guys to know that i’m a real person #but also what if in a few years when my brain is fully developed i’m like damn i shouldn’t have posted #that picture to tumblr that was a bad idea #face reveal if u get me to 10k followers 😜😜😜 #like i’m a tik toker or smth #nobody asked and it’s totally irrelevant but the prettiest girl gave me attention today #so i’m giggling kicking my feet #honestly only evan deserves a face reveal :// #the goat of my ask box

[pet-cemetery-emotes]

Hey man. Don’t send me requests off anon if your blog is about or makes heavy reference to syscourse. It’s way too 2014 aphobia for me and I will block you

#notices #not emojis #u can use anon for free and then I’ll never know u’ll bully anyone u think no one will stand up for lolz #life hackkkk for insufferable bastards bigots the meek and those who are worried about spamming alike #if ur the latter 2 tho… haiii 💖🥺💕🪦 #I don’t care if we have different lived experiences btw u don’t have to agree with me on shit #but if I’m like YAY an ask. oh boy new friend! I wonder who you are- #and get flavorblasted by discourse #umm. my mom said I have to come home ._. #u can just use anon tho. the perfect crime. I don’t think ur evil I just don’t wanna look at dat shit #I will not post about this again. I’ll just block. but warning shot feels fair? #🎃 #🍂

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

Same person who sent the AF ask. Doctors (specifically cardiologists) almost NEVER catch the heart going wacky when they’re monitoring it. I’m not kidding, it is so rare for them to actually see something while you’re at an appointment that when they do they get excited cause they can diagnose it.

Source: close family had their heart condition caught during a monitoring appointment and the cardiologist lost their shit in excitement and explained how rare it was. Just cause they didn’t see something doesnt mean theres nothing.

As for the sharp pain thing, it’s possible to be a physical symptom of anxiety since I had that. A couple of times in my life when I was really stressed I felt my chest like seize and thought I was having a heart attack but I was fine. I never got any testing done, my doctor called it anxiety but said if it continued it would definitely need to be checked. But the human body is weird. It could be a number of things, just stay vigilant and good luck!

that makes sense, the heart is very finicky. i’ll try to record it myself because i’m genuinely concerned about it even if they said it looks fine. and i plan on meeting with a cardiologist when i can

personally i don’t think it was from anxiety because i was very calm before it happened (was discussing serial killers in my favorite class, so not a stressful environment). but i have been stressed over school and not getting enough sleep so i wouldn’t be surprised. ig we’ll see when i can get an appointment w a cardiologist

thank you!

#ask #this whole thing is kinda scary because i’ve never really had heart issues until that pain and then everything else has been coming and #going since then like that pain kickstarted something #i’m definitely going to monitor things bc data and charts calm me and this is not a very calm thing #i had actually convinced myself that i was going to die and had started writing a will and made a complex system that would help record #my tod if needed and if not it would cancel delivering my will #until i had a sudden realization that that’s an overreaction and i was being paranoid again lmao #i was moving shit around and preparing to stay up all night to listen to my own heart just in case but that was wayyy uncalled for lol #it is my job in life to catastrophize and go to unreasonable lengths for something that’s not real #but boy oh boy am i skilled at getting out of touch with reality #if it weren’t for the fact that i can corroborate the chest pain thing w someone else i would believe u if u told me it’s all in my head #but it is not and i know it’s not so yay for me ig #man i’m so tired rn sorry if nothing i say is coherent

[dumb-doll-lips]

I’ve def gotten so much worse at decisions. Def isn’t fun when you don’t have someone around to make them for you.

#spent some of today like planning for a little trip w my mom and sister #supposed to be for me like yay getting a divorce #how many questions I’m getting asked has me feeling like the whole idea is a mistake #I def used to be able to plan little trips #it’s makinf me worry about the trip some #like earlier this year I cried in a restaurant bc my mom and sister wanted me to decide if we were going to do wine or cocktails #I tbink maybe I need to try to come up w more like default options #like w dinner I tend to always go for seafood and then have defaults within that whenever that’s possible #at least most meals will be reservations so I can figure it out earlier #Idk what my standard drink is #like out of wine beer and cocktails I have go tos in each bjt which of those is a better default #personal