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underoossss · 5 days

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Tell me – Miguel O’Hara

pairing: jealous!miguel ohara x f!reader

warnings: none

an: had a lot of fun writing this, pls laugh with me when you see the little crossover I included lol. anyway, have some pining!miguel that gets jealous when he learns something from your mission and a pining spiderwoman who gets on his nerves

masterlist

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“So, there you have it guys, another fun adventure for Spider-Sting.” You say as you step back into the Society, a rogue Scorpion trapped next to you and your phone help up high to frame the two of you. The displeased villain rolls his eyes and you laugh. “Bye!”

A frustrated groan comes from your watch a second later, and you smile knowing who it belongs to. You shoot a web towards the trap and hold it over your shoulder, dragging the Scorpion behind you on your way to Miguel’s lab. “Let me guess,” You say, pocketing your phone and knowing what Miguel’s going to say next.

“No social media use while on duty.”

“Live a little, babe.” You smile, taking your mask off and waving at Webslinger when you spot him dropping off a villain of his own. “Hosting a live while working won’t hurt anybody.”

The Scorpion is taken away by Margo to be sent back home when Miguel speaks again. “It can hurt you.”

“Aw, Miguelito. You do care about me!” You smile at one of his cameras, hand over your heart, as you pass by on your way to his lab. “Anyway, I gotta tell you something. You’re not busy, are you?”

“When has that ever stopped you?” Miguel’s voice gives away the likely eyeroll he’s giving you through one of his glowing orange screens. “You need to file your report anyway.”

“Say, here’s a suggestion,” You start, grinning widely when Miguel’s no comes from both your watch and above you once you’re in his office. Feigning being upset you mutter, “You didn’t let me finish.”

“I’m not filing your report, pulguita.” Miguel says, not looking at you but lowering his platform so you can step on it. As always the yellow and orange glow of the screens bathe him in their light, making it hard not to stare at his handsome features. The bridge of his nose, his bottom lip, the sharp edge of his cheekbones.

“Worth a shot.” You tell him as you stand next to him and sit on a free spot over his desk. Your friend turns slightly towards you, sending an amused look your way before he goes back to typing away on a keyboard. It’s his way of saying go on, so you do.

“Anyway! The mission started off alright, the bastard almost got me –can you believe he wasn’t amused by my jokes? I mean what are odds he has a stinger and he’s fighting someone calling herself the Spider-Sting– whatever, the thing is I had it like 70%–”

“Seventy huh?”

“Hush! 70% under control and this dude shows up out of nowhere, white suit with like gold moons what worked just like boomerangs? He tries to kill my villain!” You throw your hands up in exasperation at the memory.

“Uh-huh, so what did you do? You brought the Scorpion back with you, so you must have won.” Miguel is still looking at whatever he’s messing with on the computer, tsk-ing every time he messes something up. His tone holds something like fondness mixed with pride, it makes your whole body warm.

“So, I had to tell him, I have to take this guy with me, and he goes I can’t let you do that.” You continue, hopping off the desk and walking to Miguel’s other side. When you lean over to look at his face he looks down, eyes meeting yours briefly, waiting for whatever you’re going to say next. “Babe, he sounded just like you! I’m not even joking; I got it on video ‘cause I was live –as you reprimanded me for– but Lyla can tell you!”

“It’s true.” Lyla blinks into existence over Miguel’s shoulder, messing around with her phone for a moment before smiling teasingly at her boss. “He was all: sweetheart, I don’t care if I sound like your boyfriend, and Sting went–”

“What?” Miguel pauses his typing and turns to look at you. “What did he say?”

“I didn’t tell him you’re my boyfriend.” You wave him off, crossing your arms and looking away; your defenses go up immediately. Despite all your teasing and flirting, the last thing you want is for Miguel to find out about your dumb crush on him. Dumb in the sense that he’s never going to feel the same. “He just assumed you were–”

“He called you sweetheart?” Miguel asks, voice low and turning back to his screens.

“Well yeah, I–” You stop yourself short, glancing over at the tall man in front of you and taking in his stance.

Miguel’s hands are clenched into fists on either side of him, his neck muscles tense from whatever he’s feeling. Both his brows are pressed together in the middle of his forehead and his full lips are pulled down in an upset frown. In a moment, your body lights up as hope settles on your chest. Is he?

“Are you jealous?” You ask slowly, dragging out the word as you tilt your head.

“I think he is.” Lyla blinks in front of Miguel’s face, laying on her stomach, chin on her palm.

“Lyla.” Miguel grumbles which causes her to go away, out of mercy you’re sure. “I’m not jealous.”

“Hmm.” You scoot closer to him, letting your hands fall to your sides. Curious to see where this goes, and because you can’t help yourself, you exaggerate the end of your story. “Anyway, he was really flirty, but I distracted him enough that I captured the Scorpion and came back here before he could give me his number.”

“What?” Miguel’s eyes betray his emotions when he meets your gaze. He’s incredulous at your retelling of your adventure, but even more so outraged at your last words. His mouth is still twisted in a sneer, though at what you don’t know.

“What’s the problem? The fact that he called me sweetheart or something else?” You place your hands on your hips, done teasing and very curious. “You call me nicknames all the time.”

“They’re not nicknames.” Miguel tells you before he can stop himself and looks away when he realizes his mistake. “I’m busy. Go file your report.”

“Oh, not nicknames, then what are they?” You don’t back down, rolling your eyes when he turns his back to you. “That’s it you’re going to be annoyed out of jealousy? I flirt with you all the time.”

“That’s different and you know it.” Miguel says turning around, eyes scanning your face and the surprise that you actually got a reaction out of him.

“I don’t think I do. Why is it different?” You don’t back down walking into his space and looking up at him — damn him for being so tall. If he’s going to act like being hit on (which didn’t really happen, bless his heart) is such a problem for him he has to tell you why. For selfish reasons, you hope it’s because he likes you. “Tell me.”

Miguel looks down at you, his eyes boring into yours in a way that makes your next breath stutter. They’re still guarded but less so than before, and the sliver of emotion he lets through when he’s with you, grows the tiniest bit to show hesitation and nerves. The easy smile you were sporting falters, and your lips drop open slightly when you realize how close your faces are. When did Miguel lean so close to you? Miguel’s eyes drop to your mouth, and you panic.

“Or don’t.” You back down, shaking your head as you wonder if this was a good idea after all. You decide to lie through your nerves. “I’m just teasing you.”

As you begin to turn your face to put some space between you, Miguel’s hand goes up to your cheek to keep your gaze on him. “They’re not nicknames. I’ve been calling you endearments.” He murmurs, voice low as he looks down at you. “Just like you.”

“You mean, you’ve been flirting with me?” You ask breathlessly, your mind trying to compute what the man in front of you —who you never imagined liking you back— is saying. When he nods in an almost reluctant confession, you roll your eyes. “Then that’s the worst flirt—”

You’re cut short by Miguel’s lips pressing onto yours, effectively shutting you up with a world altering brush of lips. Then as if that wasn’t clear enough for you, he murmurs Shut up before leaning in and kissing you again, a real kiss this time. His hand on your cheek goes to the back of your head and your sighs are exchanged into each other’s mouths when they leave you in a rush. You’re surprised to find the same painful yearning you’ve been harboring for months in Miguel. It’s obvious in the way he deepens the kiss, the way he gathers you into his arms and pulls you closer, in the way his tongue tastes your mouth and leaves you dizzy.

“You were jealous then.” You say when you part momentarily, brushing the tip of your nose against Miguel’s.

“Yes.” Miguel confesses begrudgingly, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“A waste of time.” You shake your head fondly, looking at him with a healthy dose of unrestrained adoration and attraction. “The guy assumed you were my boyfriend, and you know why?”

Miguel kisses the corner of your mouth and lingers there like he doesn’t want to part. His affection is hitting your system like a shot of adrenaline to the chest, you feel drunk on it. “Dime.”

“I couldn’t stop talking about you.” You smile, leaning in to kiss him again. “I think half the audience in my live already guessed I like you.”

“Half the society too.” Lyla pops up next to you, holding up a phone and taking a selfie with you. “Some of which are coming to your lab right now, so…”

You take a step back from Miguel, beaming at the conflicted look on his face. “Do you mind if I file my report here? I assume you’re not busy.”

“Wouldn’t matter if I was, princesa.” Is all he says before he pulls up some feed on his computers, getting ready to brief the Spider People on a new mission. You move to sit on the desk next to him, and smile when his hand squeezes your thigh affectionately.

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Let me know if you liked this! Reblogs are appreciated 🥹 motivate an unmotivated writer ✨

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pulguita - ok taken literally it's a flea, but it's an endearment like lovebug for those who are short hence why miguel uses it.

dime - tell me

princesa - princess

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#I POSTED THIS A YEAR AGO?!?!#whattttttt #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099

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underoossss · 5 days

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my plan is part 5 of the way you move this weekend and a Miguel fic

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underoossss · 6 days

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underoossss · 7 days

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Let me help – Miguel O'hara

pairing: miguel ohara x fem!reader

warnings: tw homelife problems mention, some angst

words: ~3k

masterlist

an: they're good friends in this but feelings are hinted at from both of them. this is definitely not me projecting not at all. but sometimes you just need someone to offer comfort when you're feeling down, which is how i have been feeling for weeks. anyway, have some hurt comfort on this tuesday i guess. we're so back.

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“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Miguel’s voice reaches your ears just as you’re about to leave his lab.

There was a mission with Hobbie and Gwen that needed to be reported, and you stood silently in the back until Gwen was done and the three of you dismissed. Or at least the two of them were.

“No I haven’t.” You say, closing your eyes and chiding yourself for not leaving faster.

You have been avoiding him, leaving before he can speak to you, only spending time with him when a mission is involved and not answering his calls. It’s killing you –there’s nothing you want more than just to spend your time with him like you always do– but if you didn’t avoid him, you’d be in trouble. He would notice something’s wrong; he’d know you’ve been crying. He’d figure out something’s wrong the moment you tear up again, because you can’t stop feeling so sad. Miguel is your friend, and unbeknownst to him, the object of your affections, he knows you and he can’t know you’re not doing well. You can’t be another burden.

“Mentira.” You don’t have to turn around to know he’s shaking his head, but you do anyway. He gestures towards his platform and because you can’t deny him, you go. This is why you avoided him. “Did I do something?” Miguel asks you once you’re standing in front of where he’s sitting.

“What? No, of course not.” You shake your head. “I’m fine, just feeling a little off today. Sorry if I’m ruining the vibe for the team.”

“Come on, you know you light up the room anywhere you go.” He says casually, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms. The orange glow of the screen highlights his facial features, from the top of his cheekbone to his lips. His eyes meet your masked ones and you look away.

“But I don’t anymore?” You ask, knowing the answer is yes. You half expect him to say it, ‘Your mood is bringing everyone down’.

“You do. But I know you, and there’s something off.” Miguel sighs and gestures towards your face. “You won’t take off your mask anymore for starters.”

“I have a pimple, many.” You lie, sitting on one of his desks opposite him, crisscrossing your legs.

“Uh huh.” The look Miguel gives you is enough for you to know he doesn’t believe you one bit. “You know you can tell me anything” He breathes out again. “I won’t insist on you doing so, if you don’t want to.”

You bite your bottom lip under your mask and shake your head. “I can’t tell you. It’s stupid.”

“Doubtful.” Miguel stands up and walks towards you. Once he’s close enough and looking down at you one of his hands reaches for your mask, asking for permission.

This is why you avoided him, you think again, you can never say no to him.

The most imperceptible nod from you, and a moment later your teary eyes are meeting his brown ones. When his face falls with concern you can’t do anything but wrap your arms around his middle and hug him. Miguel wastes no time returning the hug, arms secure around your shoulders as he holds you.

“What’s going on, mi pulguita, huh?” He says, voice quiet, gentler than it’s ever been. “It’s not stupid if it’s got you like this.”

“Things back home aren’t… good.” You whisper, finding comfort on his warmth and relaxing with his touch. When was the last time you got a hug like this? “God I shouldn’t be complaining, sorry.”

“You’re not complaining.” Miguel pushes you back so you’re looking at him, his eyebrows are furrowed. “Stop apologizing.”

You nod even as your lip trembles. It’s wrong in your mind to say how you feel –not about him, you’ll never tell him, but about your home life. Others have it worse, why can’t you just grow up and put up with your situation. It should be easy, getting through the day despite the chaos and heaviness that seems to plague you. If others have it worse, you have to be strong no matter how much you’re hurting right?

“Whatever you’re thinking about right now is probably wrong.” Miguel frowns as his hand moves up to cup your cheek. “If you want to talk about what’s going on back home, if you don’t like it, that’s okay. Stop thinking it makes you a bad person.”

You shake your head and look away. “Complaining won’t solve anything, Miguel. I just have to get over it.”

“It’s eating you alive; nothing good can come from bottling it up.” Miguel’s frustrated tone shines through but only momentarily.

“You’re one to talk.” You huff, leaning your forehead on his torso, avoiding his eyes.

“That was before.” His hands move to your shoulders and push you back gently. “I’m getting better at that because of you. Let me help.”

Your eyes tear up again and you bite your lip; this goes against every instinct you have. When you’re like this you retreat into yourself, talking about what’s making you so sad is the complete opposite. Yet you find comfort in the concerned gaze that meets yours when you look up again. “I hate living at home.” You confess softly.

“There’s yelling and fighting, and an environment that’s so toxic, every single day. It gives me so much anxiety I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. Then there’s this feeling when we’re all together –right before an argument breaks out– that I’m letting everyone down, that I’m not the person they thought I would be, and it kills me because I can’t be that person.” You pause to gesture at your suit in a way of explaining what you mean. “And-

With another shake head you cut yourself off and wipe at your tears harshly, falling silent once more.

Miguel’s warm touch in on you again, wiping a rogue tear more gently than how you did before. His other hand shoots his red webs and brings his chair over, letting him sit I front of you until you’re in the same eye level.

“And?” He says, prompting you to keep going, mostly likely wanting to know everything so he can find a way to solve it.

It shouldn’t be his problem. You tell him that.

He rolls his eyes at you, not annoyed, but frustrated. “It’s not a problem. No entiendes que…” With a deep breath he looks at you again. “I care about you, and I hate seeing you cry so let’s see if we can at least make it better.”

You fiddle with your fingers until Miguel gives you one of his hands and you hold it tightly instead. “And I feel so lonely, Miguel.” You whisper as you squeeze his hand. “I feel lonely and then I feel selfish for even wanting anything to change in the first place. Other people are going through worse situations, so why do I cry because I feel so alone in that universe...

“Sometimes I feel like… like I’m such a problem that if–”

“No.” Miguel’s gaze hardens but not unkindly. This is protective Miguel and he’s trying to save you from your own train of thought. “I know what you’re going to say and it’s not true.”

“But what if it is?” You whisper, letting go of his hand to wipe away your tears again.

“Lyla, bring up file 7200” Miguel says in lieu of an answer. He nods towards the screens and stands up.

You follow him wordlessly, wondering what this is all about until you’re standing right next to him and see yourself on the various screens. They’re all different missions, some of them with Miguel fighting alongside you, some of them with your spider friends. There’s footage of you wiping the floor with the Scorpion until you capture him; you, trapping a Doc Oc for Miguel to cage inside his high-tech cells; you, being Gwen and Jess’ backup when their mission with a Sandman got out of control; and finally, you, comforting a little girl that got hurt in a fire back in your home world as you bring her over to an ambulance. The girl looks at you with teary eyes but a growing smile, then giggles at something you say until you put her down on a stretcher.

Next to you, Miguel lets out a breathy chuckle as he looks at the same footage as you –you and that little girl. “‘Want some smores?’ I can’t believe you said that.”

“I knew it would make her laugh.” You whisper, the corner of your mouth lifting.

“Do you see the positive impact you have?” Miguel asks, his voice is low as his hand gestures to the screen. “None of this would have happened without you. So you’re wrong.”

“Miguel…”

“Everyone would feel your absence, so don’t think the opposite is true.” Miguel closes his eyes and turns to you. “Who’s going to visit me at the oddest hours if not you?”

The fondness in his voice makes you look away. “Probably another variant of me.”

“They all hate me.” Miguel reminds you, then brings your gaze back to his with his thumb and index finger on your chin. And I love you, you think, fighting so hard not to show it as you look at him. “We can fix this.” He nods.

“How?” You ask him, heart beating louder, anxiously, at whatever he’s going to suggest.

“You, are going to move out of your house.” He says decidedly, walking to a smaller monitor. “It’s not doing you any good.”

“No.” You shake your head. That’s selfish, that’s–

“That’s putting yourself first for once.” Miguel says, making you realize you were thinking out loud. “You need to be yourself in your own world, and not just here. You can’t do that if you’re frozen with anxiety by living at home. What’s something you want to do?”

“Ballet.” You mumble, knowing deep down he’s right. “Ever since I got bitten, I haven’t been to the studio once.” It feels like a selfish act to do something for you instead of patrolling the city, no matter how joy it would bring you.

Miguel sighs and walks over to you, a glance over to the screen confirms he was searching for apartments in your home world. His hands find you face, and he shakes his head. “I know all I do is work and go on missions, but that’s me. That’s not you, and the world is not going to end if you have a hobby.”

“I like being here.” Your voice is a whisper as you look at him, calming down the thrumming of your heart so he doesn’t notice it. With you. “I like the society.”

“Then do ballet here, the Gwens would love that.” He insists.

“Miguel, I don’t think I can.” You shake your head as much as you can manage with his hold on your face. “It feels wrong, doing something just for me feels impossible. I always feel like I should be doing more.”

“Is that you talking? Or your family asking more and more from you?” His hands move down to his hips as he looks at you, a quizzical eyebrow raised.

When your eyes tear up again, they wordlessly answer his question.

“Look at all the things you’ve done.” Miguel motions to the screens behind him where the footage still plays on a loop. “You’ve never been one to back down from a fight, no matter how dangerous it is, and I don’t think you’re starting now.”

This is another battle entirely, internal with your negative thoughts and external with all the triggers and stressors in your home world. Fighting variants is never scary, not even the Goblin, but why does your stomach sink at the thought of freeing yourself from your torment, of opening up to something new and hope. Yet letting things stay how they are scares you more.

Eyes glassy, and breath shaky you look up at your friend –the man you’re secretly oh so in love with– and nod once in determination. He doesn’t smile, yet his eyes light up with relief and pride before pulling you close again. “There she is. You’re not alone, you’ve got us… me.”

“My mind hates me sometimes.” You murmur as your eyes close at the physical touch– at his words.

“Tell me when it happens.” Miguel says, voice low. “I’ll listen.”

Lyla pops up next to you. “Hm, words of affirmation seem to be your preferred love language, as well as physical touch.” She looks at some data on her phone before she addresses Miguel. “I’ll add it to her file.”

“I can’t believe you actually have a file on me.” With a shake of your head, you reluctantly step away from his embrace to look up at him. A weight has lifted from your shoulders, so much you can genuinely grin at him this time.

His expression doesn’t change, though his brown eyes give away how pleased he is. “Are you surprised?”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” This time you do smile, maintaining eye contact even as his thumb caresses your chin gently one last time.

“Come on, we’re finding you an apartment and you’re getting out of that house.” He turns away from you and walks towards the screens, closing your file and opening multiple real state webpages.

“Can I stay in a spare room until we find it?” You ask, sitting on his abandoned chair.

Miguel’s already focused on his task, but he pauses long enough to reply. “You don’t have to ask, pulguita.”

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reblogs are super appreciated, let me know what you think!

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mentira: lies

pulguita: term of endearment for someone short (literally it would mean little flee)

mi pulguita: the same as before but calling her his

no entiendes que: don't you understand that

#self reblog #morning reblog #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader

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underoossss · 8 days

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its so scary to put yourself out there but a SINGLE message saying "hi i loved what you made it touched me in some way" makes it all worth it 10000%

#THIS

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underoossss · 8 days

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Just posted my first fic in MONTHS

GUYS NEW FIC TODAY

#I feel so happy. I had the fear that I would never be able to write again lmao (dramatic I know) but I did!!!#and that makes me so happy !!!!#Miguel girlies who are dying for a hug this is for you

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underoossss · 8 days

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Let me help – Miguel O'Hara