Show Me Where It Hurts (part 1)

Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker.  I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You think Miguel is avoiding you. 

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point. 

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 

"I don't have time for this-" 

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 

"What happened?" He strains. 

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?" 

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

_

_

_

thinking about lyla hiring you as miguel's in-person assistant because as good as she is, she can't stop miguel from throwing chairs across the room. she introduces you to miguel on your first day and he immediately tries to fire you, insistent he doesn't need someone to "babysit" him, let alone someone with half the muscle mass and twice the mortality. except lyla's the one paying you, and even if it's miguel's money, lyla has made sure he can't stop the checks from clearing. so you're here to stay.

he does his best to ignore you at first and for the most part, you rarely get in his way. he goes about his duties and you shadow him, only ever speaking when spoken to if ever at all. but then one day, he's had a particularly difficult time with an anomaly and suddenly his fangs are splitting his lip, his claws are punching holes into his desk, he's snarling and the rage is taking over him again.

he grabs the thing and flings it across the room-

and you catch it. you set it down, calmly, safely, and it's so shocking to miguel because he's never seen you exert more force than needed to open a door, and you caught it.

miguel's anger melts away just like that. he watches you exhale, watches you drag the heavy thing back over to him where he stands dumbfounded and feeling. silly. he didn't think- "instead of throwing things, you can take your anger out on me."

miguel goes blank. he sounds so pathetic when he fumbles for a "w-what?"

you smile, the first time he's ever seen you do so, "I'm a good partner."

this had to be a. prank, right? lyla had put you up to this? he knows it's been a while, and she'd made the joke plenty of times before, but. were you. really? miguel clears his throat, ready to rebuff you, but he thinks about it and...

I mean, it has been a while. "you work for me." he reasons. it's not a refusal, you notice.

"it's okay," you assure him, stepping closer, "this kind of thing's in the job description."

and god. miguel doesn't know, is it actually? had lyla really. done that? he'd muster up the embarrassment if you weren't standing right in front of him and smelling so good and this whole time he'd been convinced that if he even dared to touch you he might break you but you'd caught it without breaking a sweat. what else could you handle? what were you offering to take?

you step even closer and then-

your fists are up. you're crouching and your fists are up. miguel stares.

"come on, then," you taunt, smiling wider, "I've fought bigger."

sparring partner.

now miguel's really embarrassed. he doesn't even have it in him to actually take you up on your completely innocuous, innocent offer. you wanted to spar. you wanted him to take his anger out on you in a fight. you'd sapped the anger right out of him just from this conversation. maybe it'd be better if he took a nap instead. he hadn't had one of those in a while either.

when he continues to just stand there, staring, red hot in the face, you raise an eyebrow and your smile becomes a little... mischievous. "what? did you have something else in mind?"

part two

Nothing Stays the Same Forever: Chapter 4

fContent Warning: fat/body shaming.  Joel and Tommy aren’t having any of it, but proceed with some caution it is pretty mean. Also, Joel might be a wee bit ooc but I can’t help it.  I’m weak thinking about that gruff man being soft and sweet.

previous

It had been about two weeks since he had last seen her.  According to Ellie she had been by the house a few times to visit.  He wanted to tell the girl not to wear out her welcome, but it sounded like Y/N was happy to sit and listen to whatever the teenager had to say.  And Joel knew she had a lot to say.  So he figured that if it got to be too much Y/N would nudge her along.  It did make him happy to see Ellie had a woman she trusted, though he kept that thought to himself.  Not that she didn’t have a good relationship with Maria, but it was different.  

He might have gone longer, until the next “family” dinner, but that morning he realized there was a large tear in his most worn jacket.  The lining flapped open exposing the fibrous filling, and for the life of him he couldn’t remember when or how it happened.  He asked Ellie and the teen had just shrugged and said something sarcastic before going off with a group of kids.  So after helping out with some of the livestock he cleaned up and headed over to the building Tommy told him Y/N worked out of.  

He heard the sewing machine going when he stepped through the doorway, and she was hunched over, all her focus on the stitches.  An old tape deck played what he thought was an old Patsy Cline ballad from a corner.  There were neat stacks of clothing on shelves and boxes labeled ‘scraps’.  He didn’t want to startle her so he waited patiently until the machine stopped and she pulled her project away, neatly snipping a thread.  She held it up and he saw it was a sweet little quilt, the squares sewn into a heart pattern.  He tapped his knuckles on the door frame to get her attention and she turned sharply, her expression wide eyed.  When she realized it was only him she relaxed a fraction.  

“Oh, hello Joel.  I was a little worried you were Maria or Tommy.  This is a surprise for them.”  She gently set the material aside.  “Is there something I can help you with?”  He nodded and walked over to hand her his jacket.

“I saw this big rip this morning.”  She took the garment from him to examine, a little furrow between her brows.  

“Huh, it almost  looks like the seam was cut.  Maybe the thread came loose and you snagged it on something.”  She looked up with a soft smile.  “It’s a quick and simple fix.”  

“I can wait.”  He said.  Y/N blinked a few times and her hands fumbled a bit.  

“That’s fine,” she finally replied.  “There’s um, an extra chair right there.”  She got up to look through her supply of thread to see if she could match the original color.  “This isn’t an exact match, but it should blend in and it won’t be noticeable.”  She heard the chair scrape across the floor.

“That’s fine.  As long as it’s fixed.”  She was a bit surprised when she turned back to see he had moved the chair to sit more or less directly across from her at her work table.  Refusing to let him see that she was even a little bit rattled she quickly regained her composure and sat back down.  He carefully pulled the little quilt closer to him so he could look at the pattern.  Watching his dark eyes take in the details of something she had worked so hard on was nerve wracking.  He traced his calloused fingertips over the heart that made up the center of the blanket.  

“It’s for the baby.”  She told him in a quiet voice.  “I have a little teddy bear at home too.  Tommy came back from patrol one morning with his flannel all torn up after he stumbled into a pricker bush.  I salvaged enough to use so the baby has something made at least partly from something that belonged to their daddy.”  

“Very thoughtful of you.”  He told her.  “This looks nice.”  He tapped the unfinished quilt.  She ducked her head, but he saw the pleased grin on her face.  

“It’s not much, but sometimes I have a lot of down time.  I never made many blankets or quilts before…well, just before.  But I hate to see anything go to waste so I try to recycle any ruined clothing and stuff and turn it back into something useful.”

“Gets cold.”  Joel wanted to smack himself for his stilted small talk but she didn’t seem to mind.  

“It’s nice to give people something new, even if it’s made up of old parts.  There isn’t much that exists anymore that didn’t belong to a whole lot of other people first.”  He followed her nimble fingers with his eyes, watching her quickly and carefully stitch the lining back together.  Every once in a while she would pause and coax the fiber fill back in.  All too soon, she was finished, and if Joel hadn’t seen the damage himself it would have been impossible to tell that it had ripped at all in the first place.  

“You do good work.”  He said after inspecting it.  

“It ripped along a seam, really no trouble.”  She looked down and away again and he frowned.  

“Don’t sell yourself short.  I don’t see anyone else in here doing the work.”  She shook her head.  

“There’s lots of people in Jackson doing a lot more than I can.”  She wrung her hands together.  “Keeping us all safe, hunting for food…I’m just here with my needle and thread.”  

“I hunt.  I patrol.  I definitely can’t pick up a needle and thread and do this,”  he held up his jacket.  “Or take scraps of fabric and turn it into that.”  He gestured at the baby quilt.  “Jackson doesn’t only need hunters and guards.  It needs people like you that keep us all clothed.  That are thoughtful enough to make a blanket and teddy bear for a friend’s baby.  Or a quilt to keep someone warm at night.”  

“That’s kind of you to say, thank you.”  She replied after a few moments.  

“Thank you for the repair job.”  He said, putting the jacket on.  “Seems it’s about quittin’ time, buy you a drink?”  The invitation surprised him as much as it did Y/N.  

“Oh, that’s not necessary…” She began.

“Maybe not.  Still offerin’.”  He could see the struggle in her face, and he wondered why he wanted her to accept so badly.  

“Well, okay.  Thanks, that sounds nice.”  She finally answered.  “Just um, let me tidy up everything real quick.”  She hoped that setting her work space back to a clean slate would calm her frazzled nerves but she was no calmer when she finished putting things away.  She carefully folded the tiny quilt and tucked it into a box with spools of thread.  Taking a moment to press a hand to her chest to soothe her thumping heart, she steeled herself and turned to leave with Joel.  

…

She hadn’t stepped foot into The Tipsy Bison before then.  Alcohol tended to erode away people’s filters, and in Y/N’s experience that led to her needing to dodge insults and cruel critiques.  But Joel’s presence gave her a slight feeling of security.  He wasn’t the type of person people went after, he was the type of person that cleared a pathway through a crowd with an air of intimidation.  He was however, still a southern gentleman at his core and pulled out a bar stool for her.  She awkwardly climbed and slid onto the seat.  Joel sat next to her, his arm nearly touching hers.  It made the side of her body closest to him tingle just from his proximity.  She was happy to see Tommy behind the bar.  Seeing another familiar face was comforting in a place where she was more or less completely out of her element.  

“What can I get you two?”  He asked them with an open smile.  

“Usual.”  Joel grunted.  Y/N hesitated.

“I’m not much of a drinker…”  

“How about a glass of mead?”  Tommy suggested, pouring whiskey into a glass for his brother.  “They use honey from our own hives to make it.”  

“Sounds good, I’ll give it a try.”  

“Didn’t know people still made mead,” Joel said.  “Guess when the world ends you figure out how to keep getting drunk.”  He took a sip from his glass, savoring the smokey flavor of the whiskey.  

“Guess so.”  Y/N replied.  He sensed her tense up beside him when a few men wandered up to the bar.  Tommy set a glass of golden liquid in front of her and turned his attention to the new arrivals.  She was silent, her left hand clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white, but she took a sip.  “Pretty good.” She muttered.  Joel turned his head when a table across the room erupted into raucous laughter leaving his bad ear facing her.  So he didn’t hear what was said that had Tommy furious and yelling; and Y/N looking like she had been slapped.  

“The fuck is wrong with you?”  Tommy demanded, pulling the drink he was about to serve back from a man with a smug grin on his face.  

“I’m sorry, I just haven’t seen a land whale since the world ended.  Figured with it being the fucking apocalypse they would have all gone extinct with nothing to eat.”  His buddy beside him laughed.

“Didn’t know Jackson let bloaters move in.”  Joel’s vision went red and hot with anger and he suddenly found himself with his hand wrapped around the first man’s throat.  

“Excuse me?”  He hissed through gritted teeth.  Tommy started to make his way around the bar.  “The fuck did you say?”  The man swallowed nervously but refused to back down even in his precarious position.  

“Hey man, I get it.  Chubby chasing was fun back in the day, but she’ll eat you out of house and home before the novelty wears off.”  Joel’s fingers constricted and the man’s face started turning red.  

“Joel, Joel!”  Tommy gripped his forearm and tugged.  “Let ‘im go.  He’s not worth it.” 

“Imagine getting so worked up over the little piggy that went to market.”  The buddy laughed, the sound sharp and cruel.  Joel threw the first man aside.  He hit an empty table hard, landing on the bar floor.  He pushed past Tommy and caught the other man by the shirt and watched his expression turn downright afraid with a decent amount of satisfaction.  

“If either of you ever dares to even breathe in her vicinity I will break all the bones in your hands.  If she offends you so much, don’t fucking look at her.”  He shoved the man away and shook his head, looking around to see where Y/N had gone.  

“Guess the fat bitch has a guard dog.”  The first man muttered as he picked himself up.  

“Joel…”   Tommy started, reaching out to try and hold his brother back.  But the older man was far quicker and the sound of snapping bone reached his ears before he could pull Joel away.  The man let out a shrill scream and fell back clutching his arm.  

“You broke my fucking wrist!”  He shrieked, and Tommy saw his hand hanging at an unnatural angle.

“You’re lucky he didn’t break more than that,” Tommy sighed and signaled for some of the other residents to come pick the man up.  “Take him to get patched up.”  He told them.  He knew the headache wasn’t over, but he couldn’t honestly fault his brother for his reaction.  Joel’s chest was heaving, the fury beginning to leave him.  He turned a few times, looking for Y/N.  “She left, Joel.”  His brother shoved past him, the door slamming closed behind him.  He let out another sigh and got to doing his best at damage control.  

She was nowhere to be seen in the town but he figured she would most likely head to her home, her safe place.  His pulse rushed in his ears, the adrenaline of anger still pulsing through his veins.  It shouldn’t have shocked him, to see that people still had the capability to be so vicious to a person that had never harmed them or anyone else.  His only worry right then was that he had frightened her, but in the moment he couldn’t help the violent rage that had bloomed in his chest.  Y/N was one of the kindest people he had ever met, even before cordyceps had plummeted the world into chaos and catastrophe.  

The further he walked with no sign of her the more frantic he found himself getting.  He broke into a quick jog, not stopping until he was on her porch and banging on her door.  He continued until it was wrenched open and his heart twisted to see her tear stained face. 

“What is it, Joel?  I’ve had enough of this night.” 

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” he said, out of breath.  “But I guess that’s pretty foolish, you clearly aren’t.”  

“I’m fine.”  Her voice was tight, she was trying not to start crying again.  “I’m used to it.  Everyone always has something to say about my body, how I look.  The end of the fucking world didn’t change that.”  She turned and stomped further into her house, leaving Joel to follow.  

“Those things they said, they’re fucking idiots.”  

“You think saying that changes anything?”  She cried.  “I’m the fucking idiot, Joel! I

always think it’s gonna be different, that I’ll find some place that just lets me exist in goddamn peace but I’ve finally learned I’m never going to.  But at least here I won’t be turned into a fungus zombie or be forced to-”  She broke off and looked up at him, shocked at what she was about to say out loud.  He took a step towards her.  

“Forced to what?”  He said quietly, his soft tone dangerous.  She shook her head violently and her face crumpled, fresh tears spilling from her eyes.  “Shh, it’s okay, darlin’ you don’t need to talk about it.”  He stepped closer, and laid his hand on her shoulder.  “Come on, now, you don’t need to cry.”  Tears had always been his weakness.  Moving slowly so he didn’t upset her more, he gently pulled her closer, holding Y/N’s trembling form.  She gripped at his shirt like it was a life line.  “Let it out, it’s gonna be alright.”  He tried to soothe her as she cried herself out.  When she quieted back down he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping her face back.  The pure misery in her eyes was like a gut punch.  “You didn’t deserve that tonight, and you didn’t deserve all that shit in the past either.”  Her eyes closed and another tear slipped down her cheek.  

“I’m so tired.”  She whispered.  Joel wiped the tear away with his thumb. 

“You’re so beautiful.”  He murmured, taking them both by surprise.  Y/N’s eyes opened again in shock.  “I wish you could see it.”  

“Don’t.”  He could feel her trying to pull away from him.  

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Y/N.”  He cupped her cheek.  The way she looked at him with her big, sad eyes had his stomach twisting in knots.  “Prettiest lady in this whole damn place.”  She closed her fingers around his wrist, her fingers sliding across his pulse point made his knees feel weak.  

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”  

“I’m not a particularly nice man.”  

“No, you’re not.”  She dropped her arms.  “But you aren’t mean.” Joel chuckled lightly with a sort of grim smile. 

“I can be, but not to folks that don’t deserve it.”  When her bottom lip trembled again he soothed his thumb over it.  “And you don’t deserve mean from anybody.”  The gentle kiss he pressed to her forehead made her heart ache.  “You go on and mop yourself up and get some sleep, Y/N.  If you need anything you know where I am.”  She nodded, looking mildly dazed.  He turned to leave.  

“Joel?  I heard some commotion before I got too far away.”  He made a sound of affirmation.  “Did you fight that man?”  He paused in the doorway.  

“Wasn’t nothing he didn’t deserve.”  He said finally.  “Goodnight, Y/N.”

next

taglist: @boofy1998 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

Tiny Spider

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Your daughter has a few questions, and you suspect Miguel might just open a portal to another dimension.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O'hara x spider-woman!reader

FLUFF. No warnings. Just ‘how are babies made’ and 'where do babies come from’ with Miguel and his daughter :)

"I can sense you, tiny spider."

Your eyes darted upwards only to find your daughter of six dangling from the celining by a single thread, wobbling slightly from side to side.

She stuck out her tongue, visibly distraught that she got caught.

"It's time to eat something. Come down now," you urged, pointing to the empty seat at the table.

As stubborn as her father, she wasn't easily convinced and merely dropped a little lower until she eye-leveled with both of you.

"I think Mayday is a terrible influence," you said. "Don't you think, Miguel?"

He was giving her the glare, but it wasn't enough. "No webs at the table."

"But, papá—”

Miguel remained unmoved. She wouldn't win this battle, but he wouldn't either unless you interveened.

"Eat your breakfast," you told her once again, sipping your herbal tea.

She was getting the hang of physics and motion, but it would take her a while to do so effortlessly and gracefully.

Swinging lightly, she managed to flip her feet down and land on the chair nearby.

Now the three of you could finally enjoy breakfast peacefully.

"Where did I come from?"

Miguel instantly frozen and you nearly dropped your cup of tea.

You offered her an understanding look, unsure of how to approach the topic. It's a topic that is bound to be brought up sooner or later, but one that both you and Miguel would rather have to touch later rather than sooner.

"What do you think?" you asked, exchanging a glance with Miguel who looked like he was one second away from imploding.

"Uncle Hobie said a big spider brought me here," she said excitedly. "That mamá and papá wanted me, so a big, big spider came here!," she gesticulated enthusiastically, arms up in the air to emphasise the proportions of said creature.

Miguel grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Uncle Hobie... of course."

"Well..."

Her eyes darted from you to Miguel, waiting for confirmation.

You went first. "That's not what happened. Uncle Hobie isn't to be trusted with stuff like this, little spider."

"Or trusted at all," you heard Miguel mumble more to himself.

The thing with children is that they tend to be very expressive and transparent, so the moment you watched her smile drop, you knew something was wrong.

"You... didn't want me?" she whispered, bottom lip quivering into a pout.

"No! I mean - we did!" Miguel promptly rectified. "No big spider brought you here..." his eyes met yours seeking reassurance. "We did."

"That's it?" she asked, resring her elbows on the table and placing her jaw on both palms of her hands.

She looked... unimpressed.

Miguel nodded, chopping an apple into slices with one of his talons so she could have a bite.

"Pffff," she groaned. "Boring!"

Miguel O'hara wasn't one to be left speechless very often, so you figured this had definitely caught him off guard.

"Sometimes the truth can be boring," you said with a chuckle. "But we both really wanted you and that's what matters."

Your daughter didn't seem to care much about that and, in that moment, the flash of defiance and arms crossed in front of her chest reminded you of Miguel.

"So how did you bring me here?"

"Huh..."

Miguel glanced out the window as he cleared his throat.

Did he expect you to tackle this by yourself? He should have known better.

"Your father will be more than glad to explain," you said, leaning back in your seat, earning a death glare from him.

She was growing impatient by the second, eyes fixed on him as if awaiting a bedtime story.

"Go on, Miguel," you teased with a devious smile.

"Tell me, papá!" she suddenly banged both hands on the table. "I want to know!"

Miguel frowned. Deeply. If looks could kill, you reckoned you'd be six feet under by now.

But he wasn't getting off the hook easily.

"When two people like each other very much... that can happen," he said, not bothering with details.

"But how? How?" she was bouncing in her seat at this point.

You gave him an encouraging smile.

He sighed in defeat. "Hmm... I placed a tiny seed inside your mother one day," his voice was gentle and he seemed more confident now. "You grew and grew and, many months later, you were here with us."

It was an easy enough explanation.

But...

"Inside mama?"

"Yes. Like an egg," he said warmly, wrapping his large hand around her tiny one.

"A chicken egg?" she gasped, turning to you and you immediately noticed a front tooth missing already. Kids. "But... I'm not a chicken."

Her genuine innocence was so endearing that you couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Miguel..."

"Maybe I should have said spider egg?"

"Woah! Now that's cool!" she beamed and her eyes widened like a kid who had just been told they could have unlimited supply of candy. "So I'm really a spider!"

"A tiny spider, yes," he said with a faint smile.

Warmth filled your insides at once. Miguel was always meant to be a father. He was just a natural when it came to children.

He suddenly shot a single string of red web to land on the chair where your daughter sat, sliding it closer to him. She burst into laughter from the motion before putting on a forced serious face.

"No webs at the table!" she tried to mimic his tone, her index finger in front of her face.

He planted a soft kiss on it before bringing her into a tight embrance.

"No more hanging around Uncle Hobie unsupervised," he whispered into her ear.

Masterlist

Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending

A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.

–

A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger.  For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.

He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.

Continuar lendo

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count:  4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun. You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere. When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late. 

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward. Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange. The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens. Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off. “That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected. “You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened. “You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned. “Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive. He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!” He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.” You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.” He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end. 

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself. Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

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