It was sickening. The way he became obsessed with the simple feeling of being able to feel. The way he finally feels at peace now that he’s seen the life he was meant to have. Miles had never once felt happiness, not since his father died. Everyday since he spent it resenting who he is all because he could have saved the man that was supposed to help him grow. Now he's relishing in the love and affection his “fake” family is giving him. Who could blame him? Seizing the life he was supposed to have from his alternate self. Going so far as to kidnap the original Miles and locking him away so he could trade places. It was only right, he was meant to have the life the other had. Yet a part of him feels guilty. Seeing the smiles and laughs that are technically fake because they're directed to an idea of him instead of his true self. A part inside of him hurts whenever his other worldly dad pats him on the back or says “good morning” when they first meet at breakfast. He loathes it, loves it. Yet all of that self-hatred doesn’t compare to what he feels when he sees you.
His heart. His love. His beloved loves the other version of him. It’s wrong, he knows it. Yet that doesn’t stop him from leaning into your touch or faltering at your smile whenever you get close. It eats him alive. A million thoughts going through his head when he lays down in the bed late at night with you in his arms. Sleeping soundly against his chest, completely at peace because you don’t know how he isn’t your Miles. The same fake Miles that knows you would come to resent him if you ever figured out what he had done to yours. Yet who can’t bring himself to stop. How could he? No one would blame him for being guilty to have another moment with you. He couldn't go back home, not unless he sat in front of your grave and talked to the air.
It was only supposed to be for a couple of days. That's how much his body could take before completely glitching like he was some virus. Though the more he got a taste of the sweet life that was truly his, the more he got addicted and couldn’t go back. So he got used to it. Figuring out when his body was going to glitch and how to prevent it for some time. Noticing the signs long before it happens so he can duck into somewhere private and glitch. A perfect facade. He had it all played out perfectly. Took out his braids, smiled a bit more, even toned down his spanish accent to seem as if he couldn’t speak it that well. It was all going well, outside. Even though he had everything he wanted he couldn’t shake off that internal feeling of dread when he inevitably had to go home. It was so surreal…
“Miles…,” it was almost as if he was in a dream. “Miles..,” or possibly a nightmare with the way he knows it isn’t real. “Miles..?” Perhaps he should leave before it gets worse. “Miles.” Though that would only make it hurt more. “Miles!” Snapping back to reality, he finally realized who was calling out for him. He shook his head a bit before looking at you. Sweet, oblivious to you. Who's been acting the same as he remembered before the incident back in his world. It was astonishing that you haven’t caught on yet. “Miles?” He finally glanced up at you. Faltering a bit when he heard your sweet little laugh and said your charming smile. “You okay? I’ve been calling you for forever.”
“Huh?” He asked, his Spanish accent slipping a bit before he caught himself. “Oh, sorry. Lost in thought…” He froze as he saw the slight furrow of your brows and the purse of your lips. Noticing the way you held the shirt in your hands a bit tighter, almost wrinkling it. “What was it that you wanted?”
You quickly regain yourself as you look back down at the shirt in your hands. Lifting it up to put it in front of you, you turned to look at Miles. Giving him a small smile before finally speaking up, “What do you think? Should I buy it?”
Miles studied you for a bit with the shirt in between you two. Damn, he was trying to keep it together. Part of him wanted to hold you in his arms forever and the other part wanted to run away. Was this the life he was supposed to have? Being able to go around and shop with you as the half-annoyed boyfriend who always gets dragged around. His biggest worry being how he was going to pay for all your stuff instead of getting caught by the police whenever he went on a prowler mission. “Yeah,” he forced a small smile. A part of it felt somewhat real because of you even though he was tired of having to fake being nice. “Looks good. I like the color.”
You couldn’t see it but he seemed to smile inside as you rolled your eyes at him. How he watched you with a softening demeanor as you turned back to the clothes rack and muttered something about him being the worst for clothes shopping. He was thankful, almost, especially since he felt an involuntary twitch in his right hand. Looking down, he narrowed his eyes as he saw his fingers twitch again. “Shit,” he muttered to himself as he quickly looked around to see if the store had a bathroom or at least a dressing room.
“What was that,” you turned to look at him over your shoulder as you heard him mumble something. Furrowing your brows a bit at his slightly panicked expression before it suddenly disappeared as he turned to look at you. “Nothing,” he half smiled. “Gonna go use the restroom, I’ll be right back.” You nodded hesitantly as he suddenly walked away “okay…”
He practically ran off as soon as he said those words. Sweat formed at his brows and slowly dripped down his face as he quickly looked around. Looking left and right before spotting a private changing room. Muttering a quick sorry as he stole it from a person going to walk in there. Miles let out a small groan once he was alone. Hands against the mirror as his body fully glitched. A sharp pain shooting through his spine as he and his cells fight the different dimensional levels. A faint voice of his actual mother ringing through his ears. His body screams for the need to go back, urging to go back. It all came crashing down onto him as the episode finished. The only sound being his heavy panting as he realized what he needed to do. He slowly lifted his head to look at himself in the mirror. What was it that he saw? Miles didn’t know but there was one thing he could see, a monster. The choices were to either go back and live a long and proper life or to stay and be happy at his own expense. He needed to make a decision, and he needed to make it fast.
Miles stood up and pulled himself together before stepping out of the changing room. Walking past everyone in the store as he headed back towards where you were. Feeling a genuine smile grow onto his face as he saw you in the same area you were before.
“You're back. What are you doing?” You laughed quietly as he wrapped both arms around you. Giggling at the ticklish feeling of his breath against your neck as he buried his face there. Holding you tightly against his chest and basking in your attention and warmth. He didn’t know if this was right, but it felt like it. He didn’t need to go back. Not when he can finally have the life he deserves.
Disparities Between Our Souls
Summary: Introductions are made, reflections are done, progress continues, and an old face haunts you
Disclaimer(s): N/A
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The two groups stared at each other, neither choosing to back down.
“Nightwing. This is my fam- friends. There’s no need for hostility.” You spoke up, attempting to break the tension.
“I did not mean any hostility, I’m just simply curious about who they were. Well… I’m Nightwing! [Name]’s little brother.” You could tell the three spiders near you were tense, but you reluctantly stepped aside, forcing them to introduce themselves to your brother.
“Spider-man 2099, [Name]’s husband.” Dick’s gaze burned as he stared at the two of you, but you ignored him and nudged the other two to introduce themselves as well.
“Spider-man India!”
“Spider-man.”
“Very… creative names,” Tim commented under his breath.
“Well, this’ll get confusing real fast. Do you guys have civilian names that we can call you?” The three looked to you for approval, and you shook your head.
“They won’t be revealing their civilian names unless you guys also reveal yours.” You stated. If the spiders were to reveal their civilian identities, then it was only fair for your family to reveal theirs. You knew you could trust your family, but could they trust you? That you didn’t know.
You could clearly see your family’s hesitation, weighing the cons against the pros of such a decision. You felt kind of satisfied–now they know what it’s like to be kept such a big secret from your family–but you pushed that thought down. Just as you were sure they wouldn’t reveal such a secret, Cass stepped forward.
“If [Name] trusts you, then I might as well. I’m Cassandra Cain, also known as Black Bat.” She held her hand out, and Miles shook it hesitantly.
“I guess knowing will make working together much easier. I’m Tim Drake, alias: Red Robin.”
“Damian Wayne. Robin.”
The last to introduce himself was Dick, who had been staring off into space during everyone’s introductions.
“Oh. I’m Dick Grayson, currently known as Nightwing. Pleased to meet you.” He nodded, and Miguel returned the gesture. Now that your family had introduced themselves, you gave the spiders the okay sign to reveal themselves. The three reintroduced themselves with their civilian identities.
“Great! Now that everyone knows each other, could we head back to the cave? I’d like to fix this gizmo as soon as possible, and preferably go back to our HQ before anything can go wrong.” The others nodded, and you quickly led the way back to the cave, still ignoring the scrutinising gazes of your family–specifically, from one specific person.
Once back, more old faces greeted you, and someone else whom you had never seen before.
“Hello. I’m Duke, you must be the [Name] they talk so much about.”
“Only good things, I hope.” You strongly doubted that the comment was true–in fact, you doubted they even had much to talk about you–but you still joked. “But yes, I’m [Name], also known as Bruce’s eldest child to the public. I assume you're a new sibling of mine?” You knew your father’s habit of randomly adopting orphans, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had found another one in the time you were away.
“Ah, no,” he shook his head. “Well, I guess he used to be my foster dad, but I’m more just his close ally and protege.”
“I see. Well, it’s still nice to meet you.” You held out your hand, and he gladly shook it. You turned ot Jason and Steph, both of whom were awkwardly standing to the side, looking unsure of what to do. “Jason, Steph. How have you two been?” The two finally looked up at you, changing their postures to stand tall.
“Good.” Steph’s answer was curt, just as she was those years ago.
“As well as I can be with this family.” You chuckled at Jason’s side, and you could hear some of your family’s scoffs.
“Glad to hear that. I assume you guys have been filled in on our situation?” The three of them nodded. “Great, let’s get to work on these gizmos then. The sooner we finish, the better.” The other spiders expressed their agreement, following you eagerly while your family hesitated before also making their way to the Batcave.
Jason was at a loss.
He knew you were alive, he had heard the news just a few hours ago, but to see you in person after all these years–years that he had spent slowly losing hope in ever seeking your Face again–it was just so… disorientating. He wanted so badly to run up and hug you, to undo all the mistakes he had only realised after you had disappeared, but his feet felt like they were stuck in place. He couldn’t even gather the courage to look at your face until you acknowledged his presence.
Seeing you with your new group–the way you smiled so easily with them, how you weren’t afraid to touch them, the way you seemed so relaxed around them–it reminded him of the past, the way you two were before he died. After that, it was never the same; he had changed too much, but now, it was you who had changed, and it was he being left behind in the past, and the distance between you two grew ever larger.
Dick was confused.
You and he had never talked a lot. You seemed to harbour some sort of negative feelings towards him, but he never knew what could’ve caused them, nor did he ever choose to comment on them. Perhaps he should’ve, maybe you two could’ve talked it out all these years ago and bonded over the responsibilities of being the eldest Wayne children, but that opportunity had long since passed. Now you had seemingly moved on from this family, having your own chosen one, not bound by blood or legality.
He was at odds with himself–it felt wrong to be so distant with his family, but even clearly, you weren’t desiring to create a relationship with him, even before you had disappeared. All he could do was support you in this moment as much as he could and try not to cross any boundaries that you had set in place.
Tim was conflicted.
This whole situation was just so ironic. You had been the one who tried to persuade him from the life of vigilantism when he had first joined, and yet, here you were, clearly a vigilante, leading your own team. What could have caused this change? He knew your displeasure with the vigilante life came as a result of Jason’s death, which occurred not long after you found out about their double life, but why did your ideals change? In fact, they had changed so much to the point that you had become the very thing you were so against. He knew it was illogical to do so, but he felt sort of insecure–did you just not trust Tim enough to be able to sustain this lifestyle?
Damian was regretful.
Sure, when he first met you, you certainly didn’t meet his expectations, and he had treated you quite harshly, but he’s grown now–physically and mentally. He wasn’t the same 10-year-old kid who had lashed out at you, claiming you were bound to be a weakness for the family. In fact, before you had returned, he envied you in some cases–to be able to live a normal life while your family protected the city you lived in. Many times, he had almost put down the mask, wanting to step away from the vigilante life, just like you had suggested many of the family to do so, but he ended up keeping it, continuing to do so, not for the name, but to protect the weak of Gotham. Unlike how he couldn’t do so for you.
Your return was a relief for him. It gave him solace, gave him the chance to make amends with you, to apologise for his mistreatment of you all those years ago. He had already messed that up in the previous talk, but he was in a state of shock–he wouldn’t make that same mistake again.
Barbara was bewildered.
You two had been friends before, not close, but you two would talk to each other, especially if you two were forced to attend the same gala. But then Joker shot her, and she was left to find herself again. It took her a year to become Oracle, to be the one behind the scenes, and during that year, Jason’s death. She knows she should’ve comforted you, but to her, it was just another problem on top of another problem. Too much was happening all at once, and keeping her relations with a mostly-normal civilian was the lowest of her priorities, especially one that disapproved of her vigilante life, and so the distance between you two grew.
Now you’re back–a vigilante yourself, someone who also apparently worked behind the scenes, even if only at times. Perhaps you two could rekindle that friendship you once had, now that both of you have much more to talk about than the galas or your distaste for vigilantes.
Stephanie was unsure how to feel.
You two were never close, never spoke much to each other. Back when you first met, Steph was on a mission to prove herself, so you two didn’t have many chances to talk to each other. In the manor, you two would nod when you walked by each other, but nothing more.
Duke was much the same.
This was his first time meeting you in person. He knew you as Bruce’s eldest child, but he never knew you personally, with your disappearance occurring before he had come to the mansion.
The two of them felt sort of out of place. Neither had an especially complicated past with you, nor had they ever wronged you. But they could feel the awkwardness lingering in the air between you and the rest of your family.
Cassandra was melancholic.
You two had a budding friendship before you disappeared. In the years you were gone, she spent many moments fantasising about what it could’ve been. Would you end up as someone she could rely on? Would she end up changing your views on her double life? She thought she would never get the answers until she heard of your reappearance. Then you quickly shattered her dream once again, saying you would leave them once again.
She knew this wasn’t because of her; she knew you had a life away from her, from your family–but she couldn’t help but think, if she had done things differently, if she got the rest of your family to understand you and you them, would you choose to stay? But that wasn’t her job to do, and all she could and should do was support your decision.
The group had spread out around the Batcave.
Many of them inspected the gizmos, the spiders taking them off their wrists for a quick inspection before putting them back on to prevent the glitches. In the end, they had Miguel create a replica, in hopes it might work–of course, it didn’t. But now, at least, they had a gizmo they could study without risking a spider glitching out–which your family were still befuddled about. They had gone to other universes themselves and had never witnessed such a thing until now.
Many hours had passed by, and it was night again. It was then that Tim jumped up, a lightbulb seemingly lighting up in his head.
“What if it’s because we’re currently in a different group of universes from yours?” The others looked at him, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to elaborate. “Think about it. We’ve gone to other universes before, and we’ve seen other versions of us, but never any other spiders. [Name], in other universes, have you ever seen another version of us?” You shook your head in reply, although this struck you as odd when you first realised it a few years ago, you were honestly more relieved. “Great! Well, maybe not, but it supports my theory.”
“Huh, so you’re suggesting we’re in a different multiverse? Although this explains a lot of things, it doesn’t really help with finding out how and why we got here, nor how to go back.” Miguel states. Although he didn’t mean for it to sound passive-aggressive, he had been running on just a few hours of sleep for the past day or so, surrounded by people he had just met.
“That would also make my situation even stranger–how could I have been transported to another universe, let alone another multiverse, 5 years ago? I didn’t even have a gizmo back then, so travelling universes should’ve been an impossible feat.” You added on to Miguel’s statement.
“Well, it’s not like the gizmos were the ones that transported you through multiverses, though. Didn’t you guys say a rogue portal was the reason you guys were here, including you two by the way.” Jason pointed to Pav and Miles. Your eyes widened at his words–he was right. You had almost forgotten about those portals.
“So our best bet to get back to our own multiverse is to find one of those rogue portals?” Miles asked, and the others looked in ponder.
“Theoretically. Although we’re not quite exactly sure if it will lead back, it’s our best bet.” Tim stated, and you had to agree. These gizmos most likely weren’t going to be fixed any time soon, and if Miles’ and Pav’s appearance were anything to go by, then there was a chance this portal could come back again.
“Then it’d be best if we split the group into two–one to work on the gizmos and one to find the portals,” Miguel suggested. The group then decided on who would go on what task–you volunteered yourself to find the portals; you were most likely better off in the search team rather than the technical one. The group split into two: Miles, Tim, Babs, Duke and Steph staying with Miguel to fix the gizmos, while Pav, Cass, Damian, Dick and Jason went with you to try and find the portals.
Just as the two groups had been decided, the sounds of a zeta-tube were heard throughout the cave. You all turned to see who it was, and when you did, you were face-to-face once again with the very man you called your father.
We're finally past the original point!! Anything past this is a surprise now (for both you guys and me lmao)
This chapter's title is from an english translation of Multo by Cup of Joe, one of my fav bands <3
I know I said POV changes won't happen in chapters but uhhh let's ignore that
I'm gonna be honest, the next update will take a while as well. I personally am not into DC as much anymore, but I myself hate discontinued stories, so I will not be doing you guys dirty, trust.
He tries not to, really, he does. But he can't help it!! They way your pussy is crying out around him, squeezing his thick length as he thrusts so, so, so deep inside you. His eyes can't help but dart back and forth between your face and the pretty space between your legs. He's got you on your back, your legs spread wide, or maybe thrown over his shoulders as he fucks you from above in the most perverted missionary you've ever seen.
All he knows is that it's hot and wet. Your faces, your bodies, the room itself-fuck-it's just hot and wet. He's breathing heavily, eyebrows pinched as he tries so hard to make you feel as good as he does, his hips stuttering as he fucks the both of you into overstimulation.
Just because you're clawing at his back, screaming out his name, and gushing down his thighs, doesn't mean you feel good in his mind. He's so unsure and willing to please that he convinces himself he won't stop until he knows you're not faking, the poor baby :(
You'll just have to keep looking him in his strained, teary, eyes, convincing him with your own dazed out gaze that "yes, baby-fuck!" you feel good. His eyes keep bouncing back and forth, torn between his two favorite girls: you, and your pussy. He'll just have to wipe away your tears with his thumb, cupping your face in his clammy hands while constantly guaranteeing your pleasure is just as great as his.
-"Fuck, baby-is that good?"
-"There? Is that where you need it?"
-"Please, baby-fuck-please take it, take it, take it!"
~ Peter B. Parker, Peter Parker, Choso Kamo, Yuta Okkotsu, Yuuji Itadori, Ino Takuma
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
The Ones Who Can't Take Their Eyes Off You . . .
So pretty. So, so pretty. They think you're the most gorgeous thing on the fucking planet. Every part of your body is covered in a thin sheen of glossy sweat, your skin absolutely glowing in the low light of your bedroom, or living room, or kitchen, or wherever they decided to take you.
The way you cling to them so tightly, like you don't want them to pull away-even an inch-it's driving them insane. You keep shouting their name, thirr cock/strap driving a cute lil bulge into your tummy, but all they can do is stare at your face.
Has your skin always been this soft? Have you always been this wet and warm? Have you always tasted this sweet? Fuck, they don't know, but they're taking everything in now.
It's almost more perverted, the way they smile sweetly at you while they drive their hips into your, the way they kiss your drool stained cheeks as you soak their thighs, the way they give you the gentlest, most loving praises, whisper them into your ear, all while brushing against your g-spot with Every. Single. Thrust.
Your eyes can't even meet theirs, rolled back into your skull, but it doesn't stop them from acting like you're all there, like you even have the capacity to kiss them back.
-"There you go, sweet girl, nice and deep. You got it."
-"I was waiting all day for this. God, you feel so fucking good."
-"There she is, that's it baby. Fuck, one more? I know you can take it."
~ Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson, Satoru Gojo, Tim Drake, Peter Parker
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
The Ones That Don't Let You Look Away . . .
Maybe there's a mirror in front of you, maybe he's gripping your hair and forcing your head to look where he wants you to, either way, he's got full control over where your bleary eyes land their gaze.
His thrusts, deep and powerful, are almost punishing. They don't have to be fast to turn your brain into pink goo, they just have to hit those special, specific spots. He doesn't need your cute gasps and moans to to tell him where they are, but they're appreciated-don't let his palm covering your mouth or holding you down by the throat fool you.
Even when he's got a handful of your hair, he thinks you're utterly gorgeous, which is why he makes you watch. After all, with how addictive your ass bouncing against his hips? The way your tits bounce with every powerful thrust?
That beauty is meant t be shared, and he's nothing if not a giving lover.
He'll spit on your sweet, messy cunt, spread your legs as wide as they can, and hold your head up by the hair so you can watch his thick cock sink into your folds again, and again, and again. Your back may be in a painful curve, your eyes may be filling with tears, but fuckkk he feels delicious, and you can't pull your eyes away.
He's mean. He's so, so mean, but you can tell with every resounding smack of skin on skin that he reallllllyyyy loves you.
-"Fuck, pretty, takin' me so well . . ."
-"Look. I said fucking look, baby."
-"Huh? Did you say it's too deep? Shut up, I know you can take it, whore."
~ Toji Fushiguro, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne on occasion, Kento Nanami on occasion
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
The Ones Who Like to Watch . . .
Give him a break! He works hard to keep your hair and nails all nice and did! He spends too much time wasting his already limited energy on people too stupid to even exist. By the time he gets home to your warm embrace he's exhausted.
Which is why he lets you lead him t that chair, or press his back to the headboard, and straddle his lap. It's why he lets you wrap those pretty lips around him, just enough to get him sufficiently wet. It why he rests his hands on your hips while you bounce up and down on his fat, fat cock.
He knows it's a stretch, and trust you me, if he wasn't as dead tired as he is, he'd flip you over and stretch you out properly with his fingers and tongue. But where is stands, he's just happy to let you take control of both of your pleasure.
He occasionally thrusts his hips up if he wants to see your tits bounce a little harder, or your ass bounce faster if you're riding him reverse cowgirl, but besides that, he just stares up at you with love. Fuck, you are too cute, with your eyes rolled back and your mouth agape.
Even when your legs start burning and you feel his hands tighten on your hips, ready to take over, you put your hands on his shoulders, shake your head, and force your hips down harder, riding him so deeply you can feel him in your tummy.
Of course, never being one to make his pretty girl hurt when she doesn't want to, he does end up taking over, fucking up into you with a tenderness that can only be brought out of him after a painfully long day.
-"You feel so good, my love."
-"Can you keep going? Tell me if it gets too hard, baby."
-"F-fuck. Just like that, pretty. Just like th-hat."
~ Bruce Wayne, Kento Nanami, Shiu Kong, Hiromi Higuruma, Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Noir, Sugaru Geto
— note; Miles Morales only talked to one person, you
This is a fic made from my old writing account.
It was pretty known that Miles Morales only talked to one person, you. Y/n L/n.
You two were an unusual pair, Miles was known as that cold, closed off quiet kid who never interacted with anybody at school, or the times that he did, he sounded irritated. Meanwhile, you were known for your extroverted exterior. You were friendly and easy going. Which made people take a liking to you, safe to say you were quite popular.
It surprised everyone that out of all the people you chose to stick around with, it was Miles Morales.
You had transferred to Vision’s academy roughly half a year ago. On your first week you were surrounded by tons of people wanting to talk to you, be your friend and of course try to get at you.
On your second week, you walked through the hallways with Miles on your side, the two of you were always interacting. You were giddy and outlandish whiles he still held his nonchalant attitude, but he contributed to speaking with you a lot. Shocking almost everyone in your grade of course, you were walking and talking with one of the most unapproachable person in the school. Only on your second week.
About a month of this and students got used to it, the two of you walking together, talking after class and eating together during lunch it was all normal.
But it was about two to three months in when classmates started speculating about the current relationship between you and Miles.
The subtle hand holding, the random pecks on the cheek you’d give him, when he’d randomly give you piggyback rides when you when you wanted to head to the basketball court, everyone noticed it, they noticed it all.
Rumors had started that you’ve been dating, whether before transferring or not, other rumors stated more risqué ideas, that you were doing stuff on the low. Hooking up in each other’s dorms when no one was around.
About 4 months in and people where still appalled, whenever the two of you were asked, the question was always dodged, left unanswered, causing more rumors and confusion to spread.
It didn’t bother you two though, you kept going on with your current relationship, for it was non of anyone business.
It was you and Miles’s life after all.
“You know no matter what people say, you still my girl you hear?” Miles would randomly say to you when you were hanging out.
“Yeah I know, nothing’s changing that.”
Whatever the issue, whatever the event, it was pretty known. Miles Morales only spoke to one person. Y/n L/n
Aftercare with your boyfriend Hobie - oneshot! (Hobie Brown x gn!reader)
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⚠️ TW: mention of nudity and sex, no use of y/n, hobie's dialogue written in a weird way (trying to make it "look british"), no gender and pronouns specified for reader,
📌 genre: smut-ish fluff.
- AN: this is my first ever one shot, but I still hope that you guys will like it. Also, I'll just give you some little "British slang guide", which I will provide for you in the possible future when I will write more fanfics about Hobie:
Bird: means a girl, a woman.
Enjoy!
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You had just ended your passionate intimacy, just a few minutes ago. While you were covered by blanket, Hobie was in the bathroom, cleaning himself off, brushing his hair with whatever toothpaste he had left, all while he was butt naked, since he had no real intention to dress up, he was too lazy for that. Why would he do that when he had his sweetheart in his bed, also all naked?
All that you could do for now was just staring at the half-closed door of his bathroom, while he was doing whatever else he was doing in there. You could see his shadow moving or walking around, sometimes scratching some spots of his body; his arm, behind his neck, etc.
With a huff, you covered yourself more, since it was a little bit colder without your boyfriend in the bed, without him holding you and giving you kisses that he had promised to you a while ago. "I'll take sum good care o' you after I'm done," he promised before he disappeared into the bathroom, maybe a whole minute ago.
"Hobie, what are you doing in there?" you finally asked him, which caught his attention as he spat the mix of spit and toothpaste out of his mouth and started to wash his mouth with the tap water.
"Hold on, luv, I'm on ma way!" he responded quickly.
Your man then left the bathroom and walked towards you, unbothered by his nakedness, it was nothing you haven't seen before.
Hobie landed on the bed, grunting as he laid down right next to you, rushing to get under the blanket with you. Once he got comfortable, he started getting real cozy with you, wrapping his slender arms around your body, humming with a smile.
The punk started pampering you with kisses all over your skin, anywhere that he could see; your face, down to your neck, then shoulders and chest. The moment between the two of you felt intimate, you couldn't help but shiver at how his warm lips felt against your body and face. He made you feel seen and secure, didn't he?
"You aight, luv?" he murmured to you, his chin on your shoulder, he didn't want to let go of you for a minute. "I didn't go too rough on ya now, did I?"
"It's okay, I'm just a little sore," you replied softly, then placed a gentle kiss to his forehead, to which he sighed at with happiness.
He didn't respond this time, Hobie only let his legs tangle with yours under the sheets, just for extra comfort and warmth that he could provide for you. Hobie then smiled at you and started caressing your waist with his fingers, just to comfort you a bit more. Your boyfriend yawned, stretching a bit, then relaxed again when he was done.
"I 'on wanna go to sleep jus' yet," he mumbled out to you, complaining. "I hate mornings."
Yeah, yeah, he hated the AM, he hated the PM, he hated labels, he hated the government and the fascists, how many times have you heard that already? Not that you minded, of course, since it was a big part of who Hobie was.
"You don't have work tomorrow, no?" he decided to double check, just to be sure. "I 'on wanna see you out of this bed at all, you hear me?"
"I'm on my week off," you whispered back in a sleepy tone, clearly ready to go to sleep already. "I'll be right here when you wake up."
"Awh, how cute. You're cute."
You rolled your eyes at his cheesy lines, but then jumped in surprise as you felt his fingers in between your ribs. That punk bastard was tickling you!
When you started to wiggle and giggle, he did not stop, overpowering you, hovering over you, even pushing his fingers deeper in your ribs, which made you squeal laughter out like a piglet.
"You rollin' your eyes at me, luvie?" he asked with his eyebrow raised, grinning widely. "You not gonna say anything back, ye? Not even gunna agree with your man?"
"Hobie, it tickles!" you tired to muffle your screams and laugh with your hand, but he quickly stopped you from doing so by pinning it down to the pillow. "Hobie!!"
"Chill out, it's just sum lil' ticklin', it never killed anybody. Just admit that you're the cutest bird around."
You wanted to deny him at first again, but when he started blowing raspberries into your neck, you just had to give up. Hobie sure know what he was doing to make you give in.
"Fine, fine," you finally managed to laugh it out. "I'm the cutest girl around. You happy now?"
"The happiest," he murmured back, then buried his face in your neck. "Aight, I'll leave you be, luvie. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Hobie. I love you."
"I love you too, darlin'."
And after some time, you guys fell asleep in each other's arms, with him making sure that you fell asleep before he did it himself.
this is a draft from a couple years ago I edited. I hope you guys enjoy!
You lay in your bed with tears running down your face you had been holding them in since the moment you found out your boyfriend cheated on you. You didn't want to be sad over such a stupid thing, you sat up and wiped your face before going to sit at your desk.
Sitting at your desk, writing in your journal, and listening to music when the tapping at your window begins. Thinking it’s the branches of the oak tree outside your window, you ignores it. You curl your shoulders over and rests a palm on your cheek, scribbling down words and thoughts and trying to make sense of all of them. Then the tree branch is tapping again, taking you out of your thoughts and you groan. Getting up to turn up your volume , you don’t take notice of the man sitting outside your window, tapping on the glass. Though, when you look up after twisting the knob, you scream and grabs your chest. His laugh carries over the music and you frown angrily. Stomping over to the window she unlatches it and lifts it. “What the fuck,You scared me!”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologizes and you crosses your arms in front of your chest. The cold, night breeze comes in through the open window and makes the hairs on her arm stand up.
“Will you let me in? I’ve been knocking for ages and I’m freezing.”
You step back to let him scramble into your bedroom and closes the window once he’s inside. “What are you even doing here?”
“Well, we haven't hung in a while and I noticed the absence of cars in the driveway.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, a shit-eating grin across his face. “Alone tonight, hmm?” He takes her by the waist and pulls her into him. His grey jacket is cold from the wind and the tip of his nose is bitten and red.
“I just saw you the other day” You exclaim, fighting off his wandering hands. Trailing to the sensitive parts of her waist where he knew you was ticklish. “My parents are gone for the night. They’re going to this reunion thing, I don’t know, I forgot.”
He reaches up his hand and plays with the satin ribbon at the neckline of her nightgown. His eyes are hazy and he smells faintly of weed and cologne. His fingers are like ice against her warm skin and she watches with glossy eyes as he licks his bottom lip. It makes her heart race and butterflies swirl in her belly. The truth is, you and him had an on-and-off thing going on because the both of you had gotten high and wanted to get rid of your sexual tension. “You should’ve called me. I would’ve kept you company.” He flips the little bow over in his ringed fingers and meets your eyes. “Good thing I’m here now, right?”
He slinks off into your room, looking at the framed photos on her walls and dresses. He picks up your jewelry and hair barrettes. Then he sniffs the delicate bottles of perfume at your vanity, trying to find the one that smells like you. You watch as his eyes settle on the journal sitting there. A pen still holds the page where you were writing. You run for it before he can but he’s faster and stretches his arm far above your head which you can’t reach. He looks down at you smugly while you rise on your tiptoes and scrambles to get it back from him.
“ Stop it! Give it back!” You whine and he laughs.
“What are you hiding in here, girl? Your secret? dirty thoughts?” He taunts and your face heats up. His other hand comes up to pinch at your cheeks and the rings sting against your hot skin. “Aww, you’re flustered! That’s so cute.” “Stop it!” You huff, jumping for the journal but he just moves it away again.
“Beg for it,” he says and you stop jumping. “If you want it so bad then beg for it.”
“You’re such a bully.” You pout and he smirks again, cracking open one of the random pages and beginning to read it.
“I finally finished my school work, it took me four hours to get it to a place where I was happy- awe, you finished your essay?” He croons and you yelp, jumping for the journal again.
“Don’t read anymore!”
“I don’t hear you begging.” His thumb holds the page in place and he’s about to turn his head up to read more when you groan, caving into him.
With her bottom lip jutting out, she softens her eyes and tugs on the bottom of his shirt. “can you pleaseeeeee give me my journal back.”
“Mmm, tell me how much you need it.”
Your shoulders fall and you feel yourself shrink in front of him from all the teasing. “I need it, please? Please give it back to me.” He lowers his arm and pops you on your head with it before returning it to you. You tugs it into your chest and glares at him.
“I think you like being bullied. You always cave so easily.” He kisses you on the cheek before flopping down on her bed, picking up your stuffed kitty, and resting it on his chest. “Now come over here and cuddle me Ms.Kitty”
After shoving your journal into a drawer you make your way over to your bed slowly, drinking at the sight of him against her pastel bedding. He’s wearing a Show No Mercy t-shirt that’s faded from many washing. His denim jeans are low around his hips, held to them with a black belt. His buckle glitters in the yellow light of her bedroom and settles against the soft skin of his tummy. It makes her feel warm.
“Seeing something you like?” He asks, petting down the cotton on her stuffed kitty. You roll her eyes and move to climb over his long legs but he grabs you by the hips and pulls you down on top of him. “There, you sit here right where we can see you.” He’s referring to himself and her stuffie which makes you roll your eyes again. “You’re so ridiculous.”
“I know.” He mutters and his hands wander over her nighty again and play with the lace hem. “This is cute, you should wear it more often.” You can feel the coolness of his fingers through the flimsy fabric. One holds your waist and steadies you against him. Your legs are bare underneath the dress so the backs of your thighs are touching his jeans, the friction against them making your legs hot. You wiggled around trying to get comfortable and he watched, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “What are you doing there?”
You stop and rise on your knees about to move off his hips. “Sorry it’s just-“ He squeezes you around your hips, keeping you sat on him, and raises an eyebrow to encourage you to finish. You feel the tips of your ears heating up, unsure how to explain to him that the reason you’re so wiggly is that the friction his jeans are putting on you is just too good. “Your jeans are rubbing me.”
A devious smile turns up at the corner of his lips. “They are?” You swat at his shoulder “Well, what do you want to do about that, princess?”
Your eyes flick to his swollen lips and you lean forward slowly, searching for hesitation in his eyes before pushing your lips against his. This is not the first time you’ve kissed. He likes fooling around with you, sitting you on his lap, and kissing you until your lips are swollen. You enjoy it too. It’s a feeling you chase when you touch yourself at night, thinking of both of your friend's lips wandering all over your body. A part of you feels pathetic for it, daydreaming about your best friends kissing you again even though they’ve both agreed that it will stop this year because of their schedules. Except, recently, you’ve been doing things with other guys they were doing more than just kissing. He was your first kiss. You’d barely even experienced anything before him.
He slips his tongue into your mouth.You mewl on top of him and curls your hands up in his shirt. Something is hardening beneath you and you feel yourself growing wet. Then you realize what it is. He’s hard. You made him hard. When he pulls away there’s a line of spit connecting their mouths and it snaps back against your chin. He thumbs the spit away and licks it off his thumb.
“You’re going to kill me, baby.” He groans, throwing his head back on your headboard. His hands fall to your legs and he blinks heavily at you while his fingers squeeze at your thighs. “Can I touch you?” Your heart is hammering in your ears. Thoughts swirl around in her head and he gets her attention by pinching your thigh. “Baby?”
“Hmm?” You say distracted and the pad of his thumb sweetly runs over the spot he pinched.
“I asked if I could touch you. Like under your dress?”
Your voice gets caught up in your throat and plays with his t-shirt. “Nobody’s ever-“ She lets out a strained breath.
“Can’t stop thinking about you.” You turn your head up to look at him, finding his glossy eyes staring back at you. You giggle and the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. We’ll take everything at your pace. I can be happy just kissing you or looking at you, whatever you decide, m’lady.”
You push yourself up off his chest, sitting back against his hips. “I still want to do stuff with you.”
His eyes brighten up and he cups your cheeks, stroking them adoringly. “Of course that’s okay. That-“ He takes a breath to steady himself. “That would be great.”
You smile shyly and look down at where your body meets his. He’s grown even harder now and it’s pressing against your panties. You can feel yourself growing warmer down there and an ache is starting to throb. “Is that from me?” You peep and his eyes follow yours.
“Yeah, yeah it is. I can go take care of that-“
“No!” You blurts, cheeks growing warmer when you hear it come out of your mouth. “You don’t have to.”
“Yeah?” He murmurs, slipping his hands up your dress to draw circles at your hips. He bucks himself up slightly into you and she whines. “You feel really good too, baby. You’re so warm.” Then they’re both gasping as you slide yourself against him, the friction riding against where you ache. “God.” He groans, hands squeezing on your hips.
“Can you-“ you stutter, trying to catch your breath. “Can we take your jeans off? I wanna feel you.” He almost cums right there, caught up in how sweetly you ask, fingers curling up at his belt.
“Please,” he begins, unlatching the belt and wiggling his jeans down his thighs. His cock throbs in his boxers and when you lower yourself back down he can feel how wet you are already. “Jesus, sweetheart. You’re so wet, aren’t you?”
You nod pitifully and whine, holding onto his shoulders as you rock yourself against him, spreading your mess around your panties. “Feels so good…..”
“Mmm, I bet it does. You’ve done this before, huh?” You nod, picking up the bottom of your dress so it doesn’t get caught up between them. His eyes fall to where you're grinding on his cock and sucks his lip into his mouth. “Fuck, baby. Can see how wet you are through these little panties.” He thumbs at the waistband of her panties, eyes glittering at the pink bow that sits in the middle. It makes him want to devour her. “Making a wet spot and everything, sweet girl. Getting so ready for me, so ready for me.”
You whine again, grinding down even harder at the name and he smiles triumphantly. “Awe, did you like that?” You hum in agreement and feel his cock twitch beneath you. “I’m yours now, huh?” Your stomach bubbles pleasantly and the familiar feeling of an orgasm creeps in. One of his hands reaches up and tucks your hair behind your ear, stroking at the soft skin of your cheek. He calls you pretty names and holds you gently. You feel so good, feel good all over, everything is tingling and you can only think of him.
Your orgasm washes over you pleasantly and rivets down your body where you pulses in your cunt. You let out a long moan and he smiles once he realizes what’s happening to you. “Aww, that’s it, baby. What a good girl coming just for me.” You’re still rocking yourself against him as you come down and he’s still petting at you, lips so kissable it's making you ache. “You’re so cute when you cum, makes me want to give it to you forever.”
When you come down from your high she falls against his chest, sweaty and breathing raggedly as you press kisses into his jaw. “Jesus.” He curses and rolls them over so you’re laying against your pillows looking at him with dazed, fucked-out eyes and he’s barely touched you yet. “You’re so pretty.” He runs a hand down your cheek and presses soft kisses to your lips and cheeks and all around your mouth. “Will you let me clean you up with my mouth?” He asks and you nod, practically begging him. “Maybe if you’re good and give me another orgasm I’ll show you my cock, how does that sound?” You shiver and your fingers dig into his biceps, feeling the strong muscle there. It sounds like the greatest idea you’ve ever heard.
Summary ➳ Miguel attempts to fix a dimension where a canon event failed to happen again, and takes matter into his own hands.
(A/n) ➳ A day later than I expected but I am proud of what I got. It’s been awhile since I wrote something. I will try to be consistent but make no promises!!
Word Count ➳ 4k
Content Warnings ➳ Female reader/Spider-Woman, mentions of death, description of violence, alternate timeline Miguel, reader kinda absent mother, not knowing how the canon works, divorce/separation/custody…
Now let’s start this from the beginning.
My name is (Y/n) O’Hara, I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for the past ten years, I’ve been the one and only Spider-Woman. I will admit, being Spider-Woman isn’t always so fun. Add being the breadwinner of the family and you got an absent mother. I know I’m not always there for my darling Gabriella. My husband’s and I marriage was already on the rocks, and I guess after my uncle died, it was clear what was going to happen.
But that doesn’t stop me from doing my job as Spider-Woman. If I cannot be there for my daughter, then the least I could do is give her a safe city where she can grow without fear.
You stood in your bathroom, panning your phone’s flashlight over a fresh black eye a villain gave you. Of course, you covered it with makeup, but you were testing other lighting. Your husband Miguel always knew something was up, or ex husband. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the old left overs in your kitchen, laundry piling up… He believed work was getting to you. And that’s what you wanted him to believe.
Maybe you shouldn’t call him your ex husband yet. It was only a trial separation, to see how things go. He didn’t want to divorce, he wanted to get you help but how could you tell him all of this? For some random reason, villains were getting stronger and gaining in numbers. You wouldn’t come home for days, usually lying on a rooftop in pain.
You were lucky it was winter, a perfect excuse to cover yourself up. Head to tone. If Miguel caught a simple glance, you knew your cover would be blown.
You never liked hiding your other half. There were countless times where Miguel knew you were hiding something, he always encouraged you to speak your mind but you always held back. Making it into a joke or simply saying nothing.
You sighed and left the bathroom, you glanced at the time. Miguel should be arriving any minute. You knocked a couple times on Gabi’s door. “Got your bags ready?” You said, but you didn’t stay. You were getting ready for work at the same time, not realizing how long you spent in the bathroom.
“Yeah mamá!” Gabi giggled. Oh your little girl, somehow she never hated you for not coming around so much. Maybe the new schedule is working for her. Maybe… It was better this way.
“Mamá!” She shouted again. “Have you seen my sneakers?”
“I thought you left them by the door!” You replied, unable to help her look as you were putting on your earrings. “Think they might be in your closet?!”
“No, I checked.”
You rushed out your bedroom door, snatching your coat and messenger bag from your bed. “Your dad just brought those.” You began to panic. God, you were already a mess.
“I know it’s around here mamá!”
“Dammit.” You cursed, you wanted to pull out your hair. One moment everything is going as planned the next everything is just fucked. You began looking under couches, bathrooms, hallways until you heard the door bell ring.
Miguel was here.
“Gabi, keep looking please.” You whispered to her.
The girl gave a nod and a thumbs up before rushing back to her room. God she was adorable.
You took a deep breath and smoothed out your appearance, hoping not to look like you were just panicking and then, you opened the door. “Hey.” Miguel smiled. “Is Gabi ready?”
“Yes, she’s just grabbing the rest of her things.”
Miguel chuckled, the kind that made your heart skip. “Have some coffee to spare?”
“Uh yeah.” You stepped to the side to let him in.
You could feel it with your senses somehow. Though the house was in both your names, he was the one who decided to rent, not too far. You could feel him looking around the house, you knew he was trying not to snoop, a bad habit he gained when you continuously came home late or not at all.
You still weren’t sure how he didn’t divorce you earlier.
“How are you feeling?” Miguel suddenly said, his back was turned to you but you saw he was already in the kitchen, pouring himself coffee leftover.
“I’ve been fine Miguel.” You spoke, having a rather annoyed tone in your voice. He always questioned how you felt whenever he came around. “You know that better-”
“Better than anyone.” He finished before you. “I know you (Y/n).” He huffed, not angry or annoyed like you were, he sounded tired.
“I know you do.”
“Do you?” He questioned. “Your clothes don’t seem to fit you anymore. The house is rather warm but you’re wearing a jacket, and I keep finding bandages… If someone is hurting you-”
“No! It’s not like that!” You raised your hands, your heart began to race. You liked and hated how good he was at noticing things. You always forgot that.
“Then tell me.” He set his coffee down, he quickly stood in front of you, his hands on your shoulders. He gave them a light squeeze, his eyes observing you closely. “Mi amor, I don’t want to see you like this, we promised never to keep secrets.”
“Miguel-”
“And you know I don’t like giving you ultimatums.”
“But-”
“I found them!” Gabi suddenly popped in front of your both, holding her shoes in her hands and proudly showing them off. Her smile was wide and pure, full of joy. “They were under my bed.”
Miguel laughed, taking the shoes from her hands. “And that will be the last time I let you take new shoes.” He smoothed out her crazy hair and looked at you. “I’ll text you.”
“Yeah.” And tried to smile and looked at Gabi. “Behave would you?” You jokingly asked her.
Gabi snickered, nodding obediently. “Yes, mama!” Miguel then picked her up, she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. “I always do.”
“Sure, mija. Just like your mother remembers to eat.” He teased, shooting you a look, though for once, you’re unable to read his expressions. “Speaking off, you got food in the fridge?”
“Papá says regret tastes like that green juice you made him!”
“Dios mio, kid, you’re never letting me live that down, are you?” He met your eyes once more. “I meant what I said.”
“I know, anyways, you should get going. Don’t want to keep you here long… And I got work.”
This time, you could see his expression flicker. But he just exhaled through his nose, and adjusted Gabi in his arms. “Right. Work.”
Gabi, oblivious, she waved excitedly at you. “Bye mama! I love you from the moon and back!” She threw her arms back for emphasis, nearly smacking Miguel in the face, luckily he dodged just in time.
“Ten cuidado, hija.” He muttered, he began walking away, he opened the door but stopped, looking back. “Please, just call me.”
And then he turned. Gabi was already chatting about a zoo you all went to once, hoping to go again but not before catching the way his shoulder tensed, like he was stopping himself from looking back.
“Just stay still!” You shouted at the newest villain, a rather large scorpion mutant.
From what bystanders and scientists said, it was an experiment gone wrong. The scorpion suddenly was growing in size for the past month and went out of control, breaking out of its cell which had its own floor. The scientists had begged you to not kill the project, hoping that they could prove to the world about something, something…
They totally pissed you off, not caring about the thing purposely striking people running or destroying everything in your path. But you took a deep breath when you landed on another rooftop. You felt like you were losing it already, everything happening all at once.
Normally you were good at blocking sound out, especially with your spider senses but now, everything was heard. People screaming and crying out for help, car alarms going off or honking, a helicopter on a news channel… Everything was getting to you.
“Okay, okay.” You murmured, looking at your surroundings to come up with a plan. Then you jumped, and with a flick of your wrist, your web attached to another building to catch up with the mutant.
You noticed the cops blocking roads and attempting to get people off the streets, and luckily, the road ahead was completely empty.
You grinned under your mask and used both of your web shots to launch yourself further in the air and while in the air, you began attaching webs in between in the buildings.
The mutant seemed to have terrible vision or something, and it quickly fell in your webs, but it began thrashing around. And when the cops began pulling away, and some in cars, people took that as their sign to drive right by and into danger.
The mutant was still in place though, giving you the chance to roughly crash into a cop’s car. You groaned but shouted. “Get these people off the streets! I’ll keep this thing still.” You huffed. Luckily, it was a cop you somewhat knew and although hated taking orders from a masked vigilante, followed.
You went back into the air, circling the mutant with your webs that tied its limbs together, but its tail slipped past your webbing, thrashing all around, making it difficult to get around.
And that’s when you felt it.
The sensation throughout your head, making your head snap right around. You found Miguel’s car among those stuck. You could see him reach over to Gabi, trying to sooth her cries.
But your distraction cost you, its tail landed a hit on you, and threw you onto the ground. You took a couple of rolls before hitting your back against a torn wall. The breast screeched, its talons began ripping away the webbing and slowly made its way towards the crowd of cars.
“Get out of the road!” You cried out, attempting to stand but your last fight weakened one of your legs. Though you hissed and cried, you still gathered strength to get back up. Without thinking, you attached your webs to a loose piece of a building and pulled with your strength.
It toppled over and landed right on the beast. Its screeching stopped and twitched a couple times before coming to a complete halt. You didn’t care about those stupid scientists anymore, you’d deal with the effect later.
You took a moment to catch your breath before walking out of the dust to see the sight in front of you.
Your husband’s car flipped over.
“No, no, no, no.” You ran right over, Gabi’s cries were loud, crying for her dad, for you. Miguel was unconscious though, blood was trickling from a cut from his forehead. You reached over to check for a pulse, you felt it but it didn’t soothe your own pain.
You stood up and put your hands on the car, though it was never recommended, you flipped the car over and waved down an ambulance. You raced over to Gabi’s side and ripped the door open. “It’s okay.” You whispered, concealing your voice. “It’s going to be okay.”
A pan sizzled on the stove, sending up little curls of steam that blurred the kitchen light. Miguel… The Miguel, who had been in the hospital two days before, who had walked out with a steady walk and an apologetic smile, stood at the counter with an apron tied around his waist and a concentration that made you want to laugh and then punch something.
You had noticed something was wrong. He looked the same. Same broad shoulders, same tired eyes, same posture that carried too many responsibilities that he shouldn’t have too. The doctors had released him a few days after with a concussion, cracked ribs, and strict instructions to rest.
You replayed the moment Gabi finally got to hug her father, she launched herself at him and he caught her with ease. You had frozen during that moment. When Miguel first woke up, he had struggled to lift his arm and the nurse said he took the brunt of the force on that side, it would be a couple weeks before the pain and soreness went away.
Now he was able to lift Gabi with that same arm… Like she was nothing. She didn’t notice, she was laughing, arms around his neck and Miguel was holding her like he may never see him again.
They spoke, sounding like any other father and daughter, his voice was the same but the way he just seemed to be wasn’t.
Gabi was on the floor by the coffee table, building a tower out of plastic dinosaurs, stopping only to poke your ankle and asking. “Mamá, do you want to build another one with me?” You crouched, took a dinosaur and offered it to her.
“If you finish your dinner and homework-” Gabi groaned which made you snicker. “We’ll build as many as you like.” She then beamed for a second, snatching the dinosaur and continued on.
You sat back on the couch and looked at Miguel. “You shouldn’t be-” You started, but he cut you off with the shake of his head.
“I want to.” He said. His voice had the same calmness, the same low warmth you’d memorized over the years but there was a hint in it. He plated the vegetables with efficiency.
“You shouldn’t be the one doing everything.” You replied but still let him.
You let Gabi drape herself over him like a blanket, let Miguel laugh and chase her hands away when she tried to hide some of his utensils to get his attention. And you took a couple photos as well, and felt like it was normal.
You should’ve felt relieved. Instead, it was like a pit in your stomach. You kept thinking of the way the air had tasted that day the car flipped, like rusted pennies and ozone. How you had Gabi and Miguel’s names in your mouth when you ran towards Gabi’s screams. The memory made your hands go cold.
When Miguel set two plates at the table, he didn’t sit. He leaned against the counter and watched you like a scientist cataloguing an experiment. “You look like you’re going to faint.” He said, not unkindly. “Come. Sit.”
“I’m fine.” You lied. You took the chair, and folded your hands under the table to stop them from trembling. Gabi passed her a plastic dinosaur and you accepted it with a smile.
Miguel watched you. He watched the way you ate. Almost ravenous, not because you hadn’t eaten, but because you’ve been surviving on adrenaline for months. He also watched the way your sleeve clung to the wrist where your costume’s fabric pressed under your clothes. Noticing the faint seam at your collarbone. You couldn’t see it, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
“Take it off.” He said suddenly.
You froze, a fork halfway to your mouth. “I’m sorry?”
“You’ve got…” He pointed with the pronged end of his fork, like he was indicating an injury to Gabi’s eyes. “You can’t let it go untreated. Let me help you.”
You laughed nervously. “Miguel, no. I can-”
For a moment, he looked like he wanted to question further, to reach for the hem of her shirt and find the answer. His hands remained close around his fork. “Let me help.”
You’d meant to tell him, the moment he woke up. You rehearsed it in the grocery store lines and red lights and on the rooftop between jumps.
“I’m Spider-Woman. I’m the one leaving everything to you because I thought I could keep us safe.”
You opened your mouth but suddenly slammed it back shut. Her skin prickled like static. The room’s edges sharpened. A high, distant ringing threaded through the air. You swallowed your words instead.
Miguel watched the change cross your face, he moved before you could. “You’re tense.” He sounded softer. He set his fork down. “You don’t have to-” His eyes flickered to her collar and then lifted, as if to check something. “You should change out of that before you sleep.”
“Yeah.” You whispered. “I’ll remember that.”
“Talk to me, (Y/n).”
You could’ve told him you were Spider-Woman and wanted to stop, or that you couldn’t stop, or that you didn’t know how to be or do both. But your senses were a leash, continuously tugging your mind, making you hear everything.
“Now’s not the best time.”
Miguel’s jaw tightened, he set his mouth in a hard line and exhaled through his nose. “Eat, then.” He said. “You’re not going to get anywhere if you faint at the table.”
You then scooped up your plate, all of it, and walked out of the dining room. Gabi peeked up from her plate. “Mamá?”
“I’m okay, bug.” You said too bright, too fast. She meant it for her daughter but aimed it at Miguel too. You didn’t want the answers he was trying to pry from you. You never intended to leave in the middle of dinner, especially not in front of her daughter. But you had rules.
Always listen to your spider senses.
You tried to work. You told yourself it would take your mind off of things. You clicked through a file and the police scanner that was thrown under some clothes chirped to life in a voice she knew by heart.
“-All units responding, possible enhanced individual, report of a structural collapse at Fourth and Harrow. Multiple civilian injuries.”
An argument with Miguel could wait, playing with Gabi could wait, the city needed her. It always needed her.
You slipped out of your clothing that hid your costume and jumped out the window. You swung past, harder than you needed to, tension burning in your muscles. The route was burned into your hands from muscle memory, swing, release, catch.
The sight of the city passed beneath you in a blur until you dropped three blocks from the scene. Cop cars ringed the block in a circle, blue and red gleamed off of glasses. A half collapsed storefront leaned into the street like a bleeding animal.
People were held back by the tape, faces lit with cameras and phones. You dropped to the fire escape, and kept low, away from the lights the cops were flashing.
What pulled at you immediately wasn’t the crowd but some of the rubble away from prying eyes glitched. It wouldn’t be the first time seeing it but you forgot about it when you couldn’t explain it.
You slipped over the edge, using the rooftops and shadows as cover, and snuck between two squad cards. You swung inside, ready to strike only to see a villain shaped figure slam into the far wall, and yanked backward by red, laser like webs that pinned them there like a bug in a display case.
“What the-?”
You dropped to the ground and leaned up against a boulder, watching the villain struggling against the restraints as a blue and red suit approached. His suit seemed to be digital by the way it glowed. You didn’t think that was possible.
He seemed to be unaware of your presence, too busy talking to the air until he addressed it personally. “LYLA.” The man said. “Reduce inflow at grid node six.”
LYLA had appeared from his wrist with her own screens. “Rerouting additional vectors. Probability stabilization at forty two percent.”
He moved in large strides, two steps and he was beside the pinned attacker. He grabbed them off the wall and dropped them with annoyance. When he clicked a couple of things on his wrist, for a beat, you saw the face beneath the mask.
Miguel. Miguel O’Hara.
Part of you refused to believe it was him when you heard his voice. But you were enraged because you were not only right when you saw him leave the hospital, you knew that wasn’t your Miguel.
“You’re causing this.” You said before you could top yourself, the sound of your voice echoed as well.
Miguel had turned towards her and closed all his open tabs. “Hello (Y/n).”
“What did you do?”
Miguel glanced at LYLA as if he expected her to explain everything. LYLA hummed. “External interference detected. Estimating cause: artificial insertion of cross variant entities.”
“What?”
He lifted a hand to stop her. “I thought I could fix it from afar. Your dimension had to be corrected, your Miguel was supposed to die at a canonical point. It was a problem when he didn’t, and your dimension compensated by getting messy.”
You took a step back but began circling him like prey. “I presume your solution was to throw monsters into New York in hopes of getting it back on its path?”
He let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh or sob. “I started this to fix an inconsistency. You’re the first universe to have this happen. I tried the obvious, I pushed more anomalies through, thinking your world would demand the event to happen. It didn’t. I had to escalate.”
Silence grew… Your world tilted when he was taken. And it was worse when you were right all along. The man that sat across from you hours ago was the man in front of you, not your husband.
“And you thought murdering my husband was going to fix it all?”
“I did what I assessed that would bring back stability.” Miguel sounded disturbingly calm. “I didn’t like it. But it was necessary.”
“You didn’t?” You felt the scream build in your chest, rage and grief woven together. “You don’t get to say you didn’t like it! You made him die!”
“I didn’t like watching you.” He interrupted. “I didn’t like that watching the screens, watching you and her, and the way you adored him. It was the only time I allowed myself to feel whole. I… I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the way you made a real family.”
It came out like an apology and a confession tangled together, like a man who watched from the sidelines and decided he deserved a piece.
“You watched my family. And you-!”
“And grew attached.” He finished for you. “I did it for stabilization. But I didn’t calculate stepping in after his death. And then I watched you. I didn’t mean to feel the way I did, but I did. I loved the way you moved through chaos. I loved your stubborn, stupid care for everyone. I loved the way you glared at him across the kitchen. Loving you isn’t my excuse. It doesn’t absolve me.”
Miguel folded his arms. “I don’t want your forgiveness.”
You let out a sharp laugh with an edge. “Then what do you want?”
“I believe your universe will go back to normal if you retire. Step away from being Spider-Woman. You’ve been breaking yourself for a decade and your universe is unwinding because of anomalies. You could live a normal life, be there or Gabi, have Miguel.”
“He was my Miguel.” You countered.
“He’s not dead in the way that matters to me. I can keep him alive, figuratively, if you let me. If you step away from being the cause, the canon is reacting to. I can at least stabilize it.”
“Then who’s going to be Spider-Woman?”
“I have a couple possibilities. But that doesn’t need to be talked about. The math is simple.”
Sounds of radios and flashlights come into view. LYLA’s voice chimed low. “Miguel, two units are closing in.” She warned.
“...And you expect me to trust you? How will I keep Gabi safe?”
“Harm will not come towards any of you. All I can offer is truth and an admission. I did what I did. I will do what I say. Choose.”
Your mouth went dry. The voices were louder, orders and commands were heard. He was offering a silent life, you could finally be there for your little girl but your reminder will always have a hand on your shoulder.
