Miguel OHara

You wish you had known how hard it would be to be a part of The Spider Society. It wasn’t the job itself, but having to be surrounded by a bunch of Alphas and Betas. You noticed it the first time you visited HQ, a bunch of Alphas and Betas, no Omegas. You quickly learned that Spidermen were usually Alpha or Beta, caused by a dominant gene that suppresses Omega traits in Spidermen. But you weren’t born with that gene. Had it not been for the scent blocker you wore during that first visit, everyone would’ve known the truth: you were The Spider Society’s only Omega.

You chose to keep your Omega status hidden. Every time you stepped into HQ, scent blockers were on, doused in fake Beta scent to keep people from questioning you. And it seemed to work—no one suspected that an Omega had slipped into their ranks. But you could only play pretend for so long..

You’d just returned to HQ after handling a mission when you noticed it, your scent bleeding through your scent blocker. You slipped away to a quiet corner, quickly replacing the blocker and reapplying the pseudo-Beta scent. You took two, maybe three minutes, then it was back to work. But that was all it took.

Miguel O’Hara, the fierce Alpha leader of The Spider Society, had been making his rounds, patrolling HQ when he picked up on Omega scent—your Omega scent. He quietly watched as you changed out your scent blocker and sprayed on the artificial Beta musk that replaced your sweet Omega scent, and it made his jaw tighten. He hated it. Hated how it clung to your skin, buried your natural scent. Because what lay beneath it? That raw, unfiltered trace of you? It was intoxicating. And now that he knew, now that he’d really scented you, there wasn’t a force in the multiverse that could make him forget it.

He began to watch you more closely. While usually he stayed tucked away in his office, you now saw him in HQ’s common areas, the training rooms, even by the cafeteria, leaning against the wall like he had a reason to be there. You tried to convince yourself it was just a coincidence. He didn’t have time to stalk one Spiderperson. He didn’t have time to watch you. And yet..every time you looked up, his eyes were already on you. It was like he was waiting for something..but what?

The answer became clear during another mission, a group assignment, one Miguel had personally organized. At first, everything was fine. But then your head started to fog, a thick, dizzy haze settling behind your eyes, your body unbearably warm under your suit, your breathing turned shallow, like you couldn’t quite get enough air—pre-heat symptoms. You tried to get a hold of yourself, your brain commanding your body to listen, to hold off on going into heat for just long enough to get home, but the symptoms only persisted as the mission went on.

You looked up and met Miguel’s gaze from across the battlefield. He wasn’t yelling orders, he wasn’t even focused on the anomaly. His attention was fixed entirely on you. His expression darkened, controlled and calculated, something burning just beneath it. Suddenly, he was moving, landing beside you and pulling you against his chest. You try to protest, but he cuts you off.

“You’re done. You’re coming with me.”

The world shifted as you fell through a portal that opened beneath you. Cool air wraps around you find yourself in a dark, quiet space, a private apartment tucked away in some corner of HQ. Not sterile or impersonal like the barracks, this space was lived-in, Miguel’s scent overnight everything in sight. He crowded you against the wall, pulling off his mask as he growled at you.

“You really thought you could keep pretending? Hiding behind blockers, acting like you’re not an Omega? Well, I’ve had enough. I’ve watched you lie to everyone, push yourself to the edge just to keep the secret. But I’m not them. I know what you are. I’ve always known. You can’t hide from me. Not anymore. So stop pretending..and let me take care of you.”