V.17.10.23 Day Nine: Primal ( Nsfw )

v.17.10.23 day nine: primal ( nsfw )

RUN, BABY, RUN — miguel o’hara: you’re on the run. running from a man with claws and fangs. you didn’t mean to trespass, it was your friends’ idea. too bad you’ve now found yourself alone in the woods.

marks predator/prey dynamic. dubcon. sex in the woods. claws and fangs kink. reflecting on old slasher vibe. finger sucking. nipple play. fear play. slight blood kink. slight monster kink.

it was far too dark, and far too cold. you didn’t mean for your feet to stumble against the uprooted trees, in fact you didn’t mean for any of this. it was an innocent night out with friends. but god you shouldn’t have gone to that stupid cabin. you really shouldn't have followed your friends into the woods.

now you’re here, forced to run. you aren’t sure if you can even call this running. what, with your tripping toes, and hair array in front of your face. you were barely making it past the trees, your breathing, one out of a horror movie. then a twig snaps. no. please no. you try to quicken. there’s ruffles of fallen leaves.

he wants you to hear him. that much is clear. you don’t mean for your hands to shake, but at this point your body is on it's own path. you stumble, palms hitting against the ground as you groan, chest still heaving. you’re covered in dirt, clothes far from a quick wash. you try to stand, hopefully run again, but you know it’s too late.

reaching a large tree, you hit back against it, pressing your fist against your cracked lips to drown out the sounds of pain threatening to spill. then it’s silent. the only sounds being the whispering wind, and a possible rush of a faraway lake. the bark scratches at your back but you stay still. scared probably isn’t the best suited word here. you were terrified.

you pressed further against the tree, hoping that it’ll just swallow you whole. “you don’t have to run...” you freeze at the voice. because you had been running from a monster, something that had claws and fangs, and distinct red eyes. not a man. your brows furrow, as your hand fists the dirt. “you’re probably scared.” his voice is…comforting, and you can’t help but let your breathing slow.

could he possibly help you? does he know about the monster in these woods? you swallow down saliva, your throat dry. “who…who are you?” you ask almost a fraction too quiet. but he catches it, his steps nearing you now. “miguel…” he answers softly. closer, closer, closer. still fisting the dirt you manage to stand up against the tree. “are you running from the monster too?”

“i think the monster might have gone in the other direction.” he says. and oh now he’s close, his low voice reverberating through you. “i think…” he continues, and your breathing catches as his breath tickles your ear. you swiftly spin to face him, and your heart stops. because in the moonlit woods his most prominent features stand out. red eyes. he smiles. fangs… “i think that you are far too trusting for your own good, mi querida.”

you begin to shake your head. “no…”

he steps closer. you stumble back. he’s grabbing your shirt and tugging you forward. you try to escape. his arm loops around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his lips hitting your ear. “shh shh…you’re okay.”

“please, i—“ you choke out the words as you try to get your hands free. hit him. anywhere. but he has you trapped, arms locked tight against your body like a vice. his hand moves to stroke at your hair, his mouth open against your ear. a shiver runs down your spine at the claws you feel. he chuckles, low and mocking, as he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “i’m quite a offended actually. you think i’m a monster?” but his words don’t show sadness they show taunting.

“you are.” you try to hiss out the words, but they do you no good. “hm…” miguel hums, his tongue poking out against his lower lip, dragging smoothly against his fangs. then he leans closer. “why is that? is it my claws?” he raises his hand higher up your face, the tip of his claw tracing the sensitive skin of your cheek. he drags it down leaving a fading red mark, until he reaches your lips. he pulls on your lower lip, forcing your mouth to open.

your frozen, completely unsure on what to do and how to do it. his eyes seem to be fixated on your mouth now, his claw actually sinking in, past your lips and all you can do is let him. “you know, I’ve never found humans to be…pretty in any sense.” he says, now finding your tongue with his claw, stroking it slowly. “you’re all such a…disappointing species.” you want to gulp, but you can’t with his finger inside your mouth. though your subconscious doesn’t seem notice the intrusion as it forces you to swallow, your lips wrapping around his finger. miguel’s eyes immediately darken.

“but you…you’re at least a little prettier than them.” he keeps his low, taunting tone, as he then inserts another finger. “suck it.” he demands. your eyes slightly widen, and when you don’t immediately obey he pushes his two fingers further into your mouth making you nearly choke, as you wrap your lips back around them. you slowly, hesitantly begin to suck, swirling around his claws with your tongue.

“that’s it...” he murmurs, completely focused on your mouths movements. “yeah…maybe you aren’t so bad. much better than them.” the barely audible hitch in your breath catches his attention as his lips curve up, slightly pulling his now dripping fingers out of your mouth. “my friends—what—what did you do to them?”

miguel, ever so calm, tilts your head up again and with his wet fingers he begins to trace them on your collarbone. “not much.” he replies evenly, as he keeps his gaze on the invisible patterns he's drawing. “no—please tell me they’re alright.”

“they trespassed—“ but you cut him off, ignoring the cold feel of your spit gliding further down your chest. “i trespassed. i was one of the first.”

“oh it was easy to tell who was stickler and who wanted to actually trespass. you, mi querida, are far too innocent to want to invade someone’s home.” he says, tugging you closer, as his hand skips over your shirt to reach the hem, sinking up and underneath, making your back unintentionally arch. you had no bra on. it was late. you were planning to go to bed when your friends had proposed this now awful idea.

"your friends are the ones i dislike." miguel says, grazing a claw along the underside of your breast. you can't help but let your lips quiver, tears welling, as you force them down. "but don't worry, i won't spare the details." he says, still stroking your hair with his other hand. "i wouldn't want to taint what's already so...sweet." at that he engulfs one of your breasts with his hand, large and demanding.

"p-please." you try, still stuck in his grip. "please what?" he taunts, flicking your nipple with his claw making your body jolt. he hums at the reaction pinching and rolling the sensitive part of you between his fingers. "how sweet are you, i wonder..." he leans closer, now licking at where the wet trail, from his fingers still lingers. "ay, cariño...you taste lovely."

you're shaking, body already exhausted from the running. "are you going to...to kill me?" you ask shakily. for some reason that seemed like the only plausible outcome right now. your adrenaline is running out, and all you can feel is his touch and fear. you don't mean to sound so weak, but in this position it's clear who takes the role as prey. "aw." he coos, now pulling at your hair to force your head higher up, as his mouth nears yours. he’s switched to your other breast, pulling, pinching, rolling. fondling almost tenderly, experimentally. "kill you? now why would i do that?"

his breath is now practically in your own open mouth, as you try to hold down unwanted sounds threatening to surface. "why would i kill someone so sweet...so pretty." he says in an almost low whisper. then as his lips graze yours. "i've already had that kind of fun with your friends." you gasp as he suddenly lifts you up by your thighs, your back now pressed against the tree you were seeking shelter from, as he forcefully widens your legs, his groin pressed right up against you finally making a small sound leave your lips.

he chuckles, his claws digging into your skin. you were wearing stupid loose shorts. again, thinking it was only a small night walk, and that you'd be heading to bed soon. he easily bypasses your shorts, his claw pulling your panties to the side. you didn't hear the unzip of his pants, until you felt his cock running right up your slit, making you choke a gasp. "what—"

"shh, cariño...“ he hums, not caring for your shock or your pleas. “my my, aren’t you soaked?" he continues to tease your entrance with the head of his cock, forcing mixes of whimpers and whines to fall from your lips. "yeah, look at you, all wet f'me." he whispered this more to himself, as he harshly pushes you further up against the tree, completely sinking into you, stretching you, and making you exclaim in a mix of pain and something else. "mierda..." he mumbles, licking at his lower lip as he thrusts into you.

"oh—" you whine, head hitting back against the tree, as your body moves with his thrusts. animalistic as he groans. "i knew you'd feel so—so tight—carajo..." his grip on your thighs has tightened, most definitely leaving marks. your hands are gripped onto the material of his shirt by his shoulders, your body at complete mercy to him.

then his mouth is on yours. hungry, demanding, and full of authority. with his harsh thrusts, and protruding tongue you can barely think. you have to kiss back, it's all you can do. your lips wrap around his lips as you join his tongue. miguel briefly opens his mouth against yours. "atta girl…mm, what an obedient sweetheart i found."

before he's pushing harder against your mouth, devouring your tongue. then your body jolts against his cock, still working in and out of you. he had bit you. your lower lip now smeared in your own blood, as your breathing stutters. while his claw moves down between you to flick and fiddle with your clit, his tongue drags right across your lower lip, tasting your blood with an audible groan.

he doesn't hold back, ramming up into you, as he widens your legs impossibly until they ache. the pressure building in your stomach is almost taking over your brain, as you moan and whimper. "you're—you're too big—too much—" you manage in chokes. he makes a point to fill you up entirely, nearly making you scream. "come on now, take all of it f'me, dulce chica, that's it...you're doing so well...so well for a so called monster. was that what you called me?" he knows the answer. and as you bounce against his cock, lewd sounds drowning out both your ears, you mutter a "y-yes.”

"hm." he hums, now nipping at the skin on your neck and chest, almost glistening in the moonlight with a mix of spit and sweat. "good." he murmurs into your skin. and as you near the precipice of your release, hands now discolored from how tight you’ve been gripping him, you hear him mutter right into your ear. "don't go looking for your friends now...they won’t help you."

"no—i—" but you can barely speak. "keep bouncing on my cock." he all but demands as you had slowed in fear. and with the help of his grip on your thighs, he ruts into you, his own release now close. and when he reaches his high, muttering curses in spanish, your body is exhausted to the limit. and as he places your shaky legs back down onto the ground, a cruel glint in his eyes, he whispers. "if you don't want me to taste more of you...i’d suggest you run."

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the comments are the perfect touch blue 😭 ahhh you are so creative. this is so perfect

The Love Lab presents:

Boyfriend is to Husband

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: How would Miguel react if you did the “calling my bf my husband” trend? 🤔

content warning: It gets a little suggestive, but other than that, it’s fluff fluff fluff. There are short mentions of food, but nothing too crazy. The Miguel in here is also not Spiderman. Just a little guy.

credit for art and dividers: Me! and @kimjiho1 (plus another person for the gif divider, if this is yours, lmk!)

a/n: This will be apart of a series called The Trendy Couple! This is the first installment ☝🏾😌. I’m not sure how long the series will be, but right now it’s just based off of cute couple's trends. My fyp has suffered trying to do research for this…

word count: 2.2k

I use the word "buggy" in here. Buggy = shopping cart or trolley. I'm southern so buggy just rolls off the tongue. ❤︎ Plus, it sounds cute!

You and Miguel have been out since 8 am running errands and grabbing supplies to fill up the new apartment. 

After a year of your dresser being full of his sweatpants and hoodies and his furniture hosting several of your blankets, his fridge being stocked of your favorite fruits and your shower caddy holding his body care, you both decided it was best to live together. 

Towel sets, bed sheets, comforters, silverware, curtains. This was only the tip of what you and Miguel had managed to stuff inside the car.

After hitting five shops just that morning, you opted to stay in the car while Miguel went and handled a pickup order from the hardware store. It was getting closer to lunchtime and you didn’t want to become irritable because of the long lines. 

To pass the time, you decided to scroll on TikTok, watching video after video, reacting to each accordingly. 

First, it was chatty kitties begging for food. Then, it was edits of hot wrestlers. Next, it was ramen recipes to cook at 2am. There were even a couple of NPC lives even though the trend was nearly dying at this point. 

Finally, you scrolled to a video hosting a girl and her boyfriend huddled together in a car over the console.

She’s leaned up against him, her smile beaming, “Today I’m going to be guessing my husband’s favorite things!”

“I’m not your husband,” are the words that shoot from her boyfriend’s mouth, fast as lightning. Cold. Unkind. Callous. 

You watch as the girl’s smile drops and the video cuts, her laughing out of shock beforehand, evidence of her trying to stamp out her embarrassment. 

You watch more as his grin widens and she gives him this awkward glance. 

“Not yet,” he adds, seeing how quiet she was. 

The video ends with her jumping at him playfully, trying to play the situation of. 

“Jesus,” you sigh, mouth turned sideways as you pause the video and open up the comments. Thousands of people were telling her to dump him, others questioning why he would say what he said in the way that he did. 

Your heart went out to the girl who clearly wanted to do a harmless joke that completely backfired. 

You liked a comment about this being a possible red flag. Although he could have responded that way because he wasn’t ready for marriage, his response was so quick and distant that it was like he was disgusted at the possibility of being with her that long. 

After working yourself up by scrolling through the comments, you decide to go even further by pressing the “calling my boyfriend ‘husband’” search at the top. 

There were so many stitches to the original video with people giving their own thoughts about the situation. Some people were proclaimed dating coaches, others psychologists, and a few influencers. 

You even see a follow up video from the original couple with the guy giving a shitty excuse as to why he was so quick in his response. 

“Yeah right,” you mumble, watching the girl snicker at her boyfriend’s pouts. You agree with the comments that his response makes the original video even worse. 

Still scrolling down, you find another video featuring a new couple. 

They’re at a table eating donut holes out of a hat, and when the girl calls her boyfriend “husband”, the guy’s entire body lights up. He’s grinning, cheeks rosy, and can’t stop staring back at his girlfriend. 

From there, you were able to see countless other couples with cute videos, all of the guys radiating at the word “husband.”

Biting your lip, you wondered how Miguel would react if you called him your husband. 

You loved him with all of your heart and you were sure that he loved you. You guys are literally moving into an apartment together. But the thought of him being unsettled by you calling him your husband weighed on you. 

Just as you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a knock near the trunk of the car startling you. Looking up in the rearview mirror, you see Miguel standing with a few bags and wood planks in his hands. You reach over and press a button to pop open the trunk. 

“Got everything?” you ask, turning to watch as he drops items in the back. 

“Yeah, I think so. Although there was almost a brawl over some potted plants,” he said. “Some older lady just came up to this guy and snatched his monsteras.” 

“What?” you respond, watching as he closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's seat. “Out of his hands or the buggy?”

Miguel laughed, both recalling the scene and finding your terms adorable. “She just came up and snatched it out of the cart while he was waiting at the end of the line. She swore that she saw it first.”

You listened to him retell the story, hand under your chin as you leaned closer. He was cute, lilt in his voice to make an impression of the plant thief. Thinking to yourself that you liked this little moment of playfulness, you take your phone out to record. 

Placing your phone in a case attached to the dashboard, you smile at the camera while Miguel’s still going. 

“‘You youngins think the world owes you everything, and that’s just not the case!’ And the poor guy is standing there going ‘ma’am, I just want my plant back.’ He looked so distressed.”

“I would be too! A random lady just shopped from my buggy. It’s like, why are you this close to me to see what I’m trying to buy?”

Miguel turns the car on and buckles up. “It started to escalate when the lady’s friend came over. Then there were two shrill voices fussing at this guy.”

He started to back the car out of the parking spot, hand behind your seat and head turned towards the back window. 

You slowly glanced at his arm, eyes tracing a vein up his shirt. 

Too bad you were in a car right now or else you’d let his arm wrap around you elsewhere. 

You tune back into his words, silently scolding yourself for letting something so simple get you to fold. 

“Luckily, I was able to calm them both down. All it took was me showing them some dasheen leaves,” he said, driving the car closer to the exit of the parking lot. 

You came to a conclusion. There was no better time than the present. 

“Aw, look at my husband. Saving the day with his genius,” you say, hand reaching out to pat his chest. 

Then you feel your body jerk to the right. The seat belt tightens as the car jerkingly swerves in between two parking spaces. 

You stare in a panic at Miguel who puts the car in park and turns his entire body towards you. 

“What did you just call me?” he asks, eyes searching yours, a little startled but mostly hopeful. 

You decide to keep the charades going, “I was just praising my husband for stopping the creation of another Karen video. Why did you turn the car like that?” You’re still looking at him as if he has two heads. 

“You just-!” Miguel takes your hands into his and places his forehead on his fists. “Baby, you know what you just said.” 

You laugh, a little giddy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Miguel leans back against his seat and closes his eyes, reaching down to take his seatbelt off. His eyebrows scrunch up as he brings your hand to his chest, “Feel my heartbeat.”

Your mouth drops as you feel his heart rattling against his chest. He really wasn’t being dramatic. 

“Baby look at me,” you grab his hands and hold them tight. “You did a good job today.”

His breath stopped, as he looked at you. His face was tinted from the whole fiasco. 

“Husband.”

Miguel’s entire body slumped as he grinned wide. He nearly jumped over the console to sag his body onto yours. 

His shoulders were shaking and you heard his laugh muffled by your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and make a face at the camera. 

“What’s up, Mig?” you say, trying to get him to talk. 

He mumbled into your clothes, shoulders still shaking. 

“I can’t hear you, you gotta sit up.”

He sits up and sniffles, turning his head toward the backseat. 

Looking at his profile you can see a few streaks down his face. 

“Are you crying?” you ask, turning his face towards yours. 

Miguel swipes his wrist across his cheeks, “Stop, this is extremely embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not! I promise it’s not,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his ear. “Talk to me.”

He chuckled, eyes looking down, “It just feels really good to know that you think of me that way. We don’t have to ever cross that line, but one day, if you would like, we can make that title true.”

“Is this a pre-proposal?” you ask, heartbeat in your ears. You went out on a limb to follow a trend, not knowing how it would end. Now you’re staring at Miguel’s flushed face with his heart pouring out into your lap. 

“Maybe,” he whispered, grabbing your hands. “Possibly a promise for what could be.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin, “Can I know what could be right now?”

“And expose my plans? Not a chance,” Miguel smirked. “Besides, a husband knows what’s best for his partner, right?”

“He does,” you quip, rubbing your hand in a circle on his chest. “He also apparently forgets that SUVs can flip very easily.”

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he says, looking sheepishly at the placement of the car. “Did I startle you?”

You just giggle at his concern and give him a quick peck on the mouth. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction.”

“How would you react if I casually called you forever mine? While driving!”

“Go 90 in a 70,” you joke. “Maybe pull over and do a little more than make out.” You rub your hand down his chest, and squeeze playfully at his pec. 

Miguel stared back at you, body instantly reacting to the shift in conversation. “We can actually do that right now.”

He leaned forward and brought your lips to his. You could taste the mint from the gum he had earlier, humming when he pushed further into your mouth. 

He started to reach for your hips, ready to pull you over onto his lap. 

Your stomach let out a loud grumble, making you jump. 

“Ok, let’s try this again after we get you some food,” Miguel says, plastering kisses on your face. 

The day moves on smoothly with Miguel not letting you out of his sight, hands itching to hold you in some way. 

He also never lets the husband thing go. 

As you’re ordering lunch, “One lemonade for my baby. And a water with lemon for me, the husband.”

As you stop in a clothing store at the mall for a small break, “These say boyfriend jeans. Do they have any husband jeans?”

As you’re trying to reach the top shelf to grab the last of your favorite detergent, “No, cariño. Let your husband get it for you.”

As you’re looking for throw pillows and towel sets for the apartment, “You think they have a couple’s set? I want something that says ‘Mr.’ on it.”

As you stop at a gift store, looking for something extra to give to the movers, “Look, this shirt says it’s made of ‘hubby material.’ Should I get it?”

This feeling is only amplified when you post his initial reaction online. The comments were full of people yearning to be in your predicament. 

“If my boyfriend doesn’t crash the car when I call him husband, THROW HIM AWAY. 😒”

“Does he have a brother….asking for a friend”

“I needed this after the “I’m not your husband” he in LOVE”

“If your bf doesn’t cry at the thought of you, what are you doing”

“He was blushing HARRRRD 😭😭😭”

“So when’s the wedding? 🤨”

“He was literally cheesing and crying omg”

“Get you a man that stops the car to declare his love”

“What if I did a five mile marathon on i-55”

“He’s so in love with you that it’s palpable”

“He was ready do a lot more than make out 😭”

Miguel saw most things, a little embarrassed but mostly happy that so many people found him to be genuine. 

You laid on his shoulder as he checked the comments, liking the funny ones as they passed by.

“Do you want to make a response video?” you say, liking a comment going ‘he’s a good man, Savannah.’

“No, I think this is enough,” he replies, handing the phone back to you. “Let me keep a little mystery. At least until I actually propose, of course.”

You looked at him with stars in your eyes.

“A mysterious husband. I kind of like the sound of that,” you say, wrapping your body around his side. “Maybe I can be nosy, find out his secrets.”

“I bet you would, cariño,” he voiced, nuzzling his chin on top of your head. “After, everything is planned and done.”

You laughed and snuggled closer, happy to be with him.

Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading! ❣️

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

I'm excited for the future of this series and I hope you guys are too. When I finish the series masterlist, I'll link it here. If you guys have any trends that you want me to include, then just let me know and I'll see what I can do!

- Lauro ♡

can you do like hobie x reader but miguel is readers father and he finds out that reader is dating hobie

yes. for this though we will have to kind of work around gabriella. we’ll just say she exists and is your older sister || i’m not really sure what ages i should use so i’ll leave that ambiguous.

——

mahogany fluff —- oneshot

(hobie x spanish speaking!reader) —— fem prns

avoidance. a skill you need to learn if you are going to sneak around and evade your parent. especially if that parent is 6’9 and 110% muscle.

————

your origin story with hobie is one that’s messy at best. especially considering the obvious blockade that was your father. him being overprotective and also hobie’s boss are two things that one never wants paired together. yet, love is one thing that can overcome. — i’m just kidding, there wasn’t a powerful we love each other moment, mostly just a lot of laughing.

it was mid july and your father was just as engrossed with work as always. you wanted to spend time together, have fun. he said he would love to but honestly you didnt think it would happen. you began to go to headquarters yourself and drag him from work. like, literally drag him.

this obviously garnered lots of attention, for one, who is this girl yelling at boss? a certain spider also happened to catch wind of the girl. he would join the crowd, laughing, cheering mildly aswell.

“dijiste que vendrías a cenar conmigo y con gabi . ¿y dónde te encuentro? ¡no en la cena! ¡hicimos empanadas, imbécil!”

“¡lo siento, mi princesa! i promise i didn’t mean to miss dinner.”

“yeah well you did, no empanadas for you. we’ll feed them to chester instead.” you say, turning around and walking away. leaving miguel to bask in the shame. you giggled at the thought of your dog getting more empanadas than your own father.

while miguel was busy being questioned about the strange girl who just walked up in here, hobie walks off to go talk to her.

“man you are an ace! that was barmy. who are you?” hobie leads with a compliment, genuinely impressed and a little refreshed at your presence, how not scared you were to yell at miguel. “a new spider recruit?”

you stop, rolling your eyes a little, still fuming at your dad. turning to greet the voice your mood immediately switches. his smooth accent and his sharp features should’ve made you a puddle right there. “n-no i’m not a spider recruit. i’m that pendejo’s daughter.”

“na shot,”

“don’t get your knickers in a twist,” you say mildly mocking his thick cockney.

“how d’you know?”

“i watch a lot television.” a laugh coming from both of you meld together.

“i’m just amazed at how you stood to the boss like tha’,”

“it’s a lot easier when the boss comes home and watches the soaps with you. what’s your name mysterious spider who’s following me home?”

“hobie, hobie brown. you’re a cheeky one, can’t believe you come from ‘im.”

“no, i’m y/n.” he laughs at your stupid joke, making your face heat up.

“i’d be chuffed to hang out with you sometime y/n. maybe visit my earth?”

“papá no me deja ir a diferentes tierras,” you shrug. “says it’s too dangerous.”

hobie nods, pretending he knows what’s you said. “atleast let me get to know you. ya like ackee?”

“mhm,” you say, a little suspicious but also mildly intrigued.

“‘ow bout tomorrow you come ‘ere n i’ll take you to some real jamaican food.”

“alright hobie, i’ll play.” you giggle and continue to your car.

he smiles waving. knowing what he’s getting himself into.

————

sorry no part 2! i’m really sorry to those who are disappointed by this :(

this is truly a work of art, it’s so cute ☺️ i need more of themmmm

Hiii, I’m in love with your writing it’s a comfort for me atp. Could you please do grumpy reader where she doesn’t talk to others a lot. That makes Miguel look like an extrovert (even though we both know that’s not true 😭). Happy Easter 🐣 and or any holiday you celebrate.

Two Peas in a Pod

c.....comfort,,,,, sad hamster meme the highest honor i could ever get omg thank you i really liked this ask because its basically me haha my friend actually told me ive gotten better at being more welcoming and "nice" and another friend would tell me that i could never mask my uncomfortableness if someone was bothering me LMFAO but as alwayyssssss i can rewrite this request for u if ur not satisfied :) Art: nellwhre17 on instagram

Spider-People were supposed to be funny and outgoing. It was in their canon to have some resemblance to the original quippy and humorous Spider-Man. If not outgoing then at least a little endearing and sweet.

So the Spider Society is a little thrown off when you’re introduced to the team by Miguel. Both of your arms are crossed, your face blank and looking over other Spiders with neutrality. 

“Here’s our new recruit. She’ll be working more with Margo and Lyla. Think of her as one of your superiors like myself or Jess or Peter B.” Miguel tilts his head at all the other Spiders. “That’s all. Dismissed.”

He turns to face back to his console, returning to work on new files Lyla had presented to him. Some Spiders stay to chat with you. They don’t notice the slight discomfort and annoyance in your face.

“Hey! My name is Peter M! I think we might be the same age!” One says, his mask squinting to look like he’s smiling.

“Have you gone on a mission yet? What Earth are you from?”

“Has Miguel explained The Canon to you yet? It’s a little overwhelming, I know.”

The commotion irks you a bit, the Spiders coming into your personal space so you shuffle away and your brows instinctively scrunch together. “No, I’m fine.” You mutter curtly. The others finally see the change in your demeanor and they awkwardly step back.

Miguel turns over to see the few Spiders around and barks at them to stop. “She’s still new to all this so don’t go around pestering her.” 

They smile wearily up at him then at you, whose face is still contorted a bit in a way that looks like you’re obviously still being bothered. 

They get the message and wave goodbye to you but not without feeling a chill down their spine at how cold you were. Maybe you were just shy. Everything is and always will be overwhelming around here with different variants of yourself. So, they believed in time you’d come around like the others.

You, in fact, did not come around. After weeks, months even, you still came in and left without a word. Get in and get out. You rarely engaged in conversation and if you were in a group, you’d keep to yourself. If someone tried to include you, you’d just say a few blunt words that didn’t move the conversation at all so there'd be an awkward standstill before moving on.

No matter what, no one knew anything else about you besides your name, you were a Spider-Woman and the name of your Earth.

Even the esteemed group of young SpiderLings couldn’t even get you to open up. Jess and Gwen had just come back from a mission, wanting to eat at the cafeteria before heading home. They had found seats beside Hobie and Pav who were just catching up together.

Pav had mentioned trying to talk to you once but his bright personality pushed you further and further away from him, your responses to his questions becoming more and more short and quick.

“I’ve never met such a complicated individual.” He pouts, crossing his arms on the table.

“Don’ bother me none. I don’ like someone tryin’ to bug me either.” Hobie scratches the back of his neck. 

“Would’ve thought they opened up by now.” Gwen brushed her hair out her face. “It’s like pulling teeth with her.”

“She just seems kinda grumpy sometimes…” Pav sighs resting his head in his arms. “Even more than Miguel which feels wrong.” 

“Yeah, at least Miguel snaps at you but she…kinda just sits there.” Gwen leans back with a weak smile. “Not really sure how to make conversation when she’s so quiet.”

“She just doesn’t feel like talking, guys. Go easy on her.” Jess rubs her temples. 

Their conversation is cut short when Miguel walks through the cafeteria, documents in hand and with you in tow. Speak of the Devil. 

“Jess, Gwen, I misremembered about giving you the reports of your last mission together. I also have the analysis for the next one on Earth—199B.” Miguel hands the reports to Jessica and she immediately skims through it. Gwen looks over her shoulder and gives you a smile.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She asks. 

You respond with a shrug and a nod. “Good.”

Gwen’s smile wavers, laughing nervously as the awkward silence. She expected some sort of greeting back. 

Miguel answers for you. “She’s been with me the whole day since Peter’s been busy at home.” Gwen looks to Miguel.

“And how about you, boss? Doin’—uh—doin’ good?”

Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. “Better now that Margo fixed what Hobie broke in the console room.”

Hobie tsks. “Did not. You’re jus’ blamin’ me ‘cause I’m the scapegoat around ‘ere. Tha’ it?” 

Miguel pulls up camera footage from his Gizmo, of Hobie pulling apart different motherboards and CPUs from the server and tucking them away in his pocket. “Is this not you?!”

Hobie squints at the footage and shrugs. “AI has truly come a long way, mate. Bettah check tha’ out.”

Gwen, Pav and Jessica laugh at the scene, giggling at the sheer anger on Miguel’s face and Hobies indifference. You watch with a soft smile up at Miguel but nothing else.

Miguel feels your hand on his forearm and he looks down at you. You nod your head to the side, signaling it’s time to go. He looks at the time on his watch and collects himself. 

“We’re gonna head out. Don’t bother us unless there’s an emergency and be alert for any sudden messages should I need to contact any of you for anomalies.” He turns and gives a small wave before leaving, you trailing behind him.

You don’t say much other than looking behind to give them a small nod and following beside Miguel.

The group watches as Miguel talks to you, relating information and talking your ear off about missions and the to-do for the day. You listen quietly, eyes held on his and nodding along.

They glance at each other and think they would’ve never seen a person more closed off than Miguel in their lifetime. Even less where it looks like he’s more talkative compared to you. What an odd pair. “I think she has opened up. Maybe just not with us.” Jess leans back with a smile.

Hobie for real strikes me as someone who doesn’t get jealous. I mean, it would go against his whole thing.

jealousy = possessiveness= thinking that thing or person as your own. To dominate and control.

he maybe he does to a extent, get jealous 😏

(This isn’t a request or anything, more of a brain dumping situation lol)

i agree, when he does get jealous it’s definitely an internal battle for him lol. he’d probably show it off in ways that are more subtle.

like if your talking to a guy he’ll snake his arm around your waist —- stuff like that. later you’d probably be like “is hobie jealous?” teasingly of course and he’d go like

“nah’ bruv was proper daft”

“daft how?”

“doesn’ matter how.”

it’d be a moment of weakness for him, and i think would genuinely make him contemplate things for a little. cause how can he be jealous if it goes against everything he stands for??? mental innit

off topic but the word spider, looks wrong idk

need this in my lifeeee

hobie just casually fingering you while smoking a blunt

i just threw up. his eyes are red and low and you’re laying on the couch with him at the end, legs thrown onto his lap while he’s rubbing against that spot with the pads of his fingers, the blunt in his other hand.