Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
I wish the same amount of energy yâall put into talking down Flowerbyte shippers would be directed towards âMiles x Milesâ, âMiguel x Milesâ, etc.
Gwen: What's the most extreme thing you and Miguel have done in the bedroom?
Hobie: I do not need to know this!
Miles: Okay, so I'm not avoiding the question, I just genuinely don't know how to answer that. Because like...to who? Or like. In what sense? And like. How strict are the definitions of 'in the bedroom' and 'me and Miguel'?
Pavitr: Do we want to know what you mean by that? Those are terrifying answers.
jealous!miguel seized my mind and wouldnât let go. i wrote this to get it out of my system (itâs 1.5k) but then i went âhmm this could be a 5+1 wouldnât that be funny hahahha.â said me, who has negative free time.
anyway.Â
this is vaguely post-canon somewhere. rated T at most. jealous!miguel. oblivious!miles. posting this here because i donât know for sure that iâll write more, and i donât like leaving a WIP up in the air on ao3. hope you enjoy it <3
-
-
Miles is at a backyard party talking to a girlâan older girl he recognizes from his schoolâs robotics club, who just won State this yearâand sheâs laughing at his jokes, touching his arm as he speaks, tilting her head to the side as she listens to Miles fumble through an anecdote from his physics class.
And Miles dares to think⊠she might be into him? In the back of his mind he hears his uncle saying, I cannot have a nephew of mine on the streets with no game.
He looks at her shoulder, right there within reach. He lifts his hand and readies a, Hey, on his tongueâ
The watch on his arm flares to life.
âWhoa,â the girl says, blinking. âCool watch. What brand is that?â
âUhâ!â Miles claps a hand over the screen, which doesnât stop the orange light from spilling through his fingers. âItâs, like, some foreign brand, you probably donât know it.â
âYou hit your steps goal or something?â she jokes as the watch continues to buzz.
Miles laughs weakly. âYeah, something like that.â
Cupping his hand over the screen, he takes a glance to see what the alert is.
ANOMALY DETECTED. LOCATION: EARTH-1610. INCOMING ASSISTANCE: MIGUEL OâHARA.
âYou gotta be kidding me,â Miles says.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âNothing!â Miles tugs his jacket sleeve over the watch. The girl looks at him with a hint of concern, head tilted, earrings shining from the lights strung up all around the backyard. Sheâs really pretty. âNothingâs wrong, I just, uhâŠâ He sighs, drags a hand over his face. âI⊠have to go. Iâm really sorryâitâs, like, an emergency, and I wouldnât go if it wasnât really important.â
âItâs okay. I get it.â She looks a little disappointed.
âNo, I mean it,â Miles says. Mentally, heâs screaming at himself to rein it in because itâs not that serious, but he just hates the idea of her thinking heâs running away because sheâs somehow less than. âYouâre like, really cool and I like talking to you and if youâre still around when Iâm done and want to hang out, Iâd be down for that, but if youâre not around or just donât want to, thatâs cool tooââ
A pair of lips press against his cheek.
Miles shuts his mouth.
He can feel the waxiness of lipstick imprinting on his skin, and hears the gentle smack when the lips pull away.
âIâd like that,â the girl says, grinning now. âBut right now, relax and go deal with your emergency.â
The earth is spinning. Miles canât tell up from down.
âOkay,â he says dumbly, fingers touching his cheek. âCool.â
âCool.â She gives him a little wave.
Miles stumbles on his shoes on the way out, waving back at her like an idiot.
Heâs so high on cloud nine that he nearly forgot what the emergency was in the first place.
âMiguel,â he says, tapping on the watch. âIâm here, where you at?â
âOh so now Spider-Man is open for business?â Miguel grouches, voice tinny over the speakers. His projection flares up from the watch. His mask is on, the red outline of his eyes bunched up in annoyance.
âNot my fault I have a life here!â
Miguel shakes his head. âIâm in Queens. Sending coordinates. ApĂșrate.â
The call ends.
âNice to see you too,â Miles mutters and pulls his mask over his face.
He and Miguel have worked together on a handful of occasions, with Miguel sounding greatly put upon each time. Itâs not really fairâMiles likes to think heâs gotten pretty good at this Spider-Man stuff by nowâbut from what heâs heard through the gossip at HQ, Miguel is just kind of like that with everyone. Blunt. Snappish. Open in his preference for working alone.
If Miles had any say in it, heâd leave Miguel well alone. But their paths keep crossing somehow, and truth be told, there are far worse partners to have in a fight than the ninja vampire Miguel OâHara.
âAbout time you showed up!â Miguel says when Miles finally makes it to the coordinates he sent.
Miles is about to respond when a blast of electricity snaps through the air, and Miguel leaps out of the way, catching the next building with his clawed hands. Miles swings after him.
âYou know New York is big, right?â Miles says, following Miguel as he bounds over walls and rooftops. âAnd that we donât have the same technology as, oh I donât know, Nueva York eight decades in the future.â
âYeah, well, while you were taking your sweet time, this guyâs been blasting through the neighborhood.â
Said guy possesses the power of electricity, it looks like. Kind of cool, Miles has to admit, until he throws an arc of lightning Milesâs way and Miles has to yelp and duck.
âOkay, I can see why you needed me,â Miles admits.
Miguel scoffs. âRight. Follow my lead, then do your thing.â
His thing. As if Miles hadnât used it in the not-so-distant past to leech the very suit Miguel is wearing.
âYouâre the boss,â Miles sighs.
Miguel doesnât respond, just heads towards todayâs villain with a powerful leap and a blur of red webs.
Miguel draws the fight away from the residential buildings and into a factory yard by the waterfront, arcs of lightning following him all the while. Electro, Miles learns from a handful of villain monologues later, doesnât go down easily, especially after siphoning energy from the nearby power lines to make himself faster and more agile. But his fatal flaw seems to be his egoâMiles latches onto him mid-rant about some company called Oscorp, and in the ensuing tussle, Miles lays his hands on Electroâs shoulders and starts to drain him.
âWhat are you doing?â Electro demands, watching in horror as all the energy he gathered flows out of him and into Miles.
âSorry, man,â Miles says. âNothing personal.â
The ensuing venom blast is the strongest Miles has ever done. It leaves a smoking crater in the ground, Electro lying unconscious in the center of it.
Miles shakes out his hands, jittery from residual static.
âFinally,â Miguel says, landing on the ground next to him. He drops his mask, and Miles can see the disgruntled look on his face. âThought heâd never shut up.â
âYouâre welcome,â Miles says.
Miguel shoots him a glance before bending down to wrap Electro in webs. âDonât get cocky.â
âJust saying, youâre lucky he ended up in my dimension.â
Miguel rolls his eyes, but it isnât with quite as much annoyance as Miles has seen in the past. Or maybe thatâs just wishful thinking.
âYou want a gold star or something?â Miguel says.
Miles shrugs. âJust a âthank youâ would be nice. Or even âgood work.ââ The smell of charred villain is cloying in Milesâs nose, so he tugs his mask off for some fresh air.
Miguel straightens, looking down at his watch to type in coordinates, and he says offhandedly, âAlright, alright.â He turns to Miles. âGood workââ
He stops.
Miles raises an eyebrow when a few seconds pass and Miguel doesnât say anything. âWhat?â
Miguel points to his cheek. âYour mom kiss you before you left?â
âWhat?â
And then Miles remembers.
The lipstick.
âOh!â he says, face turning so hot. âNo, âcourse not. Thatâs just, uhââ
âa girl he was trying to get lucky with. But thereâs no way Miles is going to admit that to anyone, let alone Miguel.
âI told you I have a life, man. I do see people outside of Spider-Man stuff.â He brings a hand up to wipe the lipstick away.
A warm hand takes his chin.
Milesâs breath stops in his lungs.
He didnât notice Miguel had gotten so close. His grip is firm, but not ungentle. He turns Milesâs head to look at him, and his face is⊠Miles doesnât even know how to characterize his expression. Miguel has gone very still, his breath coming in and out of him in deep, even exhales. Heâs staring fixedly at the kiss. His eyes are dark.
He rubs his thumb along Milesâs cheek in a slow, heavy drag. Wiping the kiss away. Replacing it with the burn of his own touch.
Milesâs stomach jolts, and his skin goes hot all over.
What is happening?
âM-Miguel?â he says hoarsely.
Miguel doesnât hear him. Heâs still looking at Milesâs cheek, and his lip curls slightly in disdain, enough for Miles to see the hint of a pointed canine. The grip on Milesâs chin digs in a little deeper.
âMiguel,â Miles says again, louder.
Miguel blinks. Clarity comes back to his eyes.
He drops Miles as if burned.
âShit,â he says, stepping away. Milesâs skin feels cold without his touch. âIâ Sorry.â
Miles opens his mouth to say itâs okay but the words get stuck in his throat.
âAre you okay?â Miles asks instead. His heart is hammering in his chest, hard and loud enough that surely Miguel can hear it.
âFine,â Miguel snaps. He has one hand on his head like heâs fighting off a headache. âI justâ I gotta go.â
He calls a portal. It bursts open in a familiar cacophony of orange light.
âOkay,â Miles says faintly, watching Miguel grab Electro with a handful of webs.
Miguel spares him one last look. Again, Miles canât tell what emotion to read from his face. Heâs struck by the urge to move closer, to find what Miguel keeps from him.
But then Miguel says quietly, âGood work today,â turns around, and disappears through the portal.
Miles is left alone in the cold night air, the silence heavy all around him.
He brings his fingers to his cheek, where his skin still throbs from the memory of Miguelâs touch. His stomach squirms.