Nothing Stays The Same Forever: Chapter 4

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

Deserve It - Part 1

Pairing: Joel Miller x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 620, sorry chapters will get longer!

Warnings: Weight insecurity, anxiety, angst, age gap, loss, eventual smut. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: There is nothing wrong with being plus sized. As a plus sized woman I’ve dealt with and am still dealing with insecurities and this is pretty therapeutic for me. This is my first time writing any of my ideas down. Helpful criticism is always welcomed just please be kind because I will cry lol.

Continuar lendo

CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara

☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.

☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader

☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing

☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."

"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.

"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."

"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.

"Miguel!"

And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.

His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.

Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.

He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.

"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.

Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.

You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.

"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"

Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.

"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."

You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."

Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."

"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.

"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."

He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.

"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."

Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."

With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.

But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.

Pls do one where The reader is like chubby and self conscience about her stomach and miguel convinces her that its okay and like fucks her 😋

I may have gotten carried away lol

Word Count: 1205

NSFW below the cut.

...

"Amor," Miguel called from the bed, "c'mere."

You ignored him, staring at yourself in the full-length mirror in your bedroom. You frowned, poking and prodding at your stomach, grabbing the soft skin in your hands and squeezing.

You hated it. You hated the plumpness of your body, the roundness of your hips, the thickness of your thighs.

Something about the day made you more self-conscious than usual, your eyes searching for every detail of your body to detest.

"Hey," Miguel called out again, "you coming or what?" You didn't turn around to acknowledge him, choosing to look at him through the mirror. His thick brows were raised, and his body relaxed as he lay comfortably on your bed with nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. He patted the empty space beside him, ready for the movie night you promised him.

“¿Qué te pasa, hm?" He stood, stretching his limbs before padding over to stand behind you, pressing his chiseled body against your back. His hands fell on your shoulders as he towered over you. You couldn't see his face, the mirror not long enough to reveal anything above the middle of his chest. 

You leaned back against his warmth, feeling tears prick your eyes. You couldn't really explain where all these emotions were coming from. You felt ugly, even more so with Miguel's perfect form standing behind you. 

His large hand skimmed your chest, fingers dancing over your collarbone and up your neck, gripping it gently before tipping your chin up, forcing you to look up at him. Your watery eyes met his determined ones, and he could see the uncertainty within. 

"¿Qué pasó, amor?" He asked again, stroking the delicate skin of your throat. You sniffled, a few traitorous tears slipping down the sides of your face. 

You hated crying—and over something so trivial, too. You felt ridiculous, ripping yourself from his grip to furiously wipe your face free of the salty streaks. 

"You gonna talk to me?" He pursed his lips, arms now crossed over his broad chest. 

"Look at me, Miguel!" You cried, pointing at the mirror with an open hand. He grunted, bending down comically to be at your level, gazing at you through the mirror.

"What am I supposed to be seeing?" He asked, his eyes raking over your form. You were in your sports bra and panties, skin bare and glowing from your recent shower. 

"Ugh!" You dropped your face in your hands, almost in hysterics. Your words were muffled, and Miguel sucked his teeth, standing to his full height again, yanking your hands away from your face. 

"Hablame claro." 

You sighed, biting your lip. Your hands went back to your stomach and down the sides of your hips, sniffling. “Look at me,” you repeated softly, your fingers pressing into your skin, “I look…”

“Beautiful?” Miguel offered, pulling you flush against his chest again, wrapping his arms around you. You scoffed, turning your head away when he tried to place a kiss on your temple. “Hey, basta,” he warned, pinching the meat of your thigh. You yelped, slapping his hand away.

“But, my stomach,” you continued, almost whining, more tears beading at the corners of your eyes.

“What about it?” Miguel tightened his hold on you, one of his hands laying over the plumpness of your abdomen. He brushed his thumb back and forth over your soft skin, finally able to place a kiss on your temple like he’d been wanting to. Your shoulders sagged and you looked away from your reflection, laying your cheek against the warm skin of his arm.

Miguel wrapped his fingers around your jaw, forcing you to look back toward the mirror.

“Look at you,” he whispered, holding you close, “look at how beautiful you are. Hermosa.” His hands moved down the sides, gently groping along the way, “And all this for me, hm?” One of his hands snaked down your front and past the waistband of your panties. With two skillful fingers, he parts your lips, swirling them against your clit before swiping down toward your entrance. He tapped his fingers there, once, then twice, before slipping them inside.

“M-Miguel,” your voice hitched, hands gripping his forearms. You whined when he began thrusting his fingers, holding your squirming form by your stomach, “w-wait, what are you—”

“Showing you how beautiful you are,” he growled, spreading your juices over your clit and your lips, “Look at yourself, look how fucking beautiful you look like this,” again he forced your head to face the mirror, “abre los ojos, amor.” 

By that point you had your eyes screwed shut, but he repeated his command, and you opened your blurry eyes, focusing them on your face, flushed and with a sheen of sweat. Your panties had a large wet spot from Miguel working you, his hand digging deep into the meat of your belly, gripping you firmly as he worked to bring you pleasure. 

“Mira,” he marveled at you, watching your body move against his fingers, grinding your hips as he circled your clit, “you see what I see?” You whimpered when he shoved his thick fingers inside you again, moaning as you threw your head back.

“Uh-uh,” Miguel chastised, “don’t you dare look away, keep looking—mhm, that’s it, feels good, right?”

“M-mhm.” You were mewling now, Miguel’s fingers stretching you deliciously. Your eyes were glued to the mirror, and you watched his hand move under your panties, noting how the wet splotch grew larger, your slick spreading between your thighs. You looked so good in Miguel’s hands, your body seemingly made just for him to hold and play with. You felt his length pressed against your ass, large and hot, ready for attention. That aroused you more than anything, knowing that he enjoyed you just the way you are. 

He was going faster now, an unrelenting pace that had moan after moan pulled from your throat, until finally, you released a moan that informed Miguel you were coming undone, and seconds later, you were gushing all over his fingers and palm. 

“Damn, mama, never made you do that before, huh?” Miguel chuckled, smooching your sweat-slicked hair. 

“Huh?” You pant, finally dragging your eyes away from your reflection in favor of glancing down between your legs. You were absolutely soaked. Your panties were soaked through, your juices running down your trembling thighs. That’s never happened before. 

Miguel pulled out his hand from between your heated legs. He was coated with your slick up to the wrist, his digits and palm shiny with it. 

“You’re a squirter,” he grinned when you attempted to elbow him in the stomach, “that’s my girl.” 

He released you, using his dry hand to pull down his briefs while the other coated his cock with your slick. He pumped himself a few times, pulling back the skin to reveal his large tip, weeping with anticipation. 

“You ready for me?” He muttered with a tilt of his head, eyes heavy with arousal. 

You attempted to get on the bed but he stopped you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you against his chest once again. 

“Not the bed,” he said hotly, “in front of the mirror. I want you to watch.”

....

Amor- Love

Qué te pasa- What's the matter

Qué pasó- What happened

Hablame claro- Speak clearly

Basta- Stop it

Hermosa- Beautiful

Abre los ojos- Open your eyes

Mira- Look

and i want it back, i want the old me.

Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1072

A/N: Prequel to this. Angst, implied!established relationship, argument. Will not be doing another part so please don’t ask.

You storm into Miguel’s office, furious after having caught wind from Peter B. and Gwen about the chase with Miles. You were away on a separate mission at the time and weren’t there for the whole ordeal but you heard the general gist from your two friends. It’s dark in Miguel’s office as he stands atop his platform, staring at his monitors with his back turned as usual. “Miguel!” You yell, anger spilling out of every pore of your body.

Miguel simply sighs in annoyance at hearing your voice, turning around in obvious frustration. “Whatever you’re going to say…just don’t,” he threatens, his voice bitter and exhausted.

“Don’t?! DON’T?!” you laugh, outraged at his words and the audacity to dismiss you. “Tell me Miguel…what exactly went through your mind as you violently chased a 15 year old boy and told him he was a mistake?!” You were shaking at this point, voice trembling as you let out all your rage towards the man above you.

“He’s not supposed to be Spider-Man, he’s an anomaly! A threat to his universe!” Miguel raises his voice, dripping with anger.

“And you think he asked for this? You think he asked to be bitten by some spider that was never supposed to be in his universe? There has got to be a better way of handling this than by treating him like some monster.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” Miguel bursts, jumping off his platform to loom over your form. He gets close to your face, baring his fangs and eyes red with fury. “Don’t lecture me when I’m the only one keeping things together. I’ll be damned if I let some stupid kid ruin it all.”

You flinch slightly, his large stature appearing very threatening. Nonetheless, you glare back at Miguel, refusing to step down. “I understand how important your job is but this is not the way to do it,” you say, clenching your jaw. “I know you’re angry at Miles but of course he’s going to want to save his dad. He shouldn’t be punished for that.”

“Being Spider-Man is about making sacrifices.” Miguel begins to lecture. “And if he can’t accept that then he puts his whole universe at risk.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, looking around in disbelief at his words. You cross your arms and tilt your head at him. “Is that all you think being Spider-Man is about? Deal with sacrifices and just accept that?! Have you really forgotten why we do what we’re supposed to do?” You yell, waving your finger back and forth between him and yourself.

“Save me your useless lecture and just stay out of the way (Y/n),” Miguel rolls his eyes, moving to turn away from you.

“No Miguel, I’m sick and tired of you never taking me seriously,” you quip, webbing his feet to the ground. You move to stand in front of him again, maintaining eye contact. “None of us chose to be Spider-Man, okay? Yes our lives are hard and yes we lose so many people but the point of us is that we keep going. We keep fighting and keep helping as many people as we can because we have the power to do so. Miles believes he can save his father and his universe so of course he’s going to try to do that. Of course he’s going to go against all odds that it doesn’t work because despite it all, he knows that if there’s even the slightest chance he can save both then he has to try.”

Miguel glares at you with a pointed glare before moving his face close to yours. “And that’s what’s going to get him and everyone in his world killed. You can either help me stop him or get out of my way,” he threatens, voice barely above a whisper. You don’t say anything, maintaining eye contact. You can feel his breath on your face with how close he is and part of you can’t help but flicker your gaze to his lips. Miguel notices this and smirks, standing up straight and breaking out of your webs with ease. He goes to wrap his arms around you. “Come on (Y/n), let’s go-”

You move out his grasp and shake your head in frustration. Miguel is slightly surprised, you’ve never rejected his affections before. “You're not going to change your mind, are you?” you ask, looking down at the ground. You already know his answer but you’re struggling with the decision you now have to make.

“I can't.” Miguel replies curtly, observing your body language. He sees how tense your shoulders are and how you turn away from him after his answer.

“Then I quit,” you sigh, looking over your shoulder at him. You can’t see him but you can hear the fabric of his suit as he clenches his fists and his small grunt of frustration.

“Are you serious?” Miguel growls, eyes red as he looks at you. You two have known each other for years and the last thing he needs is your betrayal.

You turn and face him, nodding your head. You look at Miguel up and down and frown. He barely even looks like a hero with the way he’s looking at you, as though you were some horrible villain. “I can’t support what you’re doing.”

Miguel sneers at you and his breathing gets heavier with frustration as he grumbles. “I should have never wasted my time on you.” 

You feel your heart break as he says this, memories of all the time you’ve spent together flooding your head. The times where he used to look at you with so much love and now you can't find a trace of that in him. You feel tears of both anger and sorrow build up as you watch him go back to his platform. 

You open a portal with the device on your wrist, preparing to go in before you look at him one last time. “Goodbye Miguel,” you spoke, one last time.

Miguel grimaces and doesn’t even look back at you as he scoffs. “I don’t ever want to see your face again.”

You feel a tear fall down your cheek as you sigh. You take the device off your wrist and throw it to the ground, hearing it clatter as you walk through the portal.

The portal closes. Miguel is left alone in silence, the smallest mix of doubt and regret planted in his chest.

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Tags: @anidiotwhoreads

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.

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