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redfoxwritesstuff · 1 month

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A Misdemeanor Of The Heart, Chapter 11 (Alastor x Married!Reader)

Chapter Trigger Warnings: Domestic violence

AN: I reward you for surviving the trauma with fluff.

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The floor in front of your closet was cold and hard under you, but you didn’t mind it. It felt soothing to your aching muscles. In your lap, you held a hatbox, covered in a generous layer of grainy dust.

Bright morning sunlight washed over your back from the bedroom window, warming you in stark contrast. It would be a few hours, if that, until the house was once again warmed by the furnace and spring’s pleasant weather.

After brushing the dust off, you opened the box to the nicest hat you owned, making sure it was just as you remembered it being when you had last stored it away. It wasn’t something you wore often. Laurence wanted it kept nice for special occasions.

Nodding to yourself, you replaced the lid and cleaned the dust from the box better with a damp rag. It wasn’t likely that Laurence would notice it had been cleaned. He wasn’t one to get into your closet, but the risk was there.

You tucked it into your bag along with the bright orange shawl you hated. It was too big, too bright and drew attention. It had to be clean to keep the dust off the shawl. Risks had to be taken.

That’s why you brought it. You didn’t draw attention. You didn’t like to be noticed. That was your disguise. No one would realize it was you, bright and drawing attention to yourself as you walked down the street. They would convince themselves it was someone else.

You felt like a mischievous child as you crept down the stairs. The house was empty, but you still crept for fear Laurence may have snuck back in. It was silly; you knew you would have heard his car, but the fear was there just the same. The floorboards creaked under your weight every few steps as you crossed the living room and opened the door.

Bright sunlight washed the street and birds sung. It was a perfectly normal day outside of your home while you were preparing to do something so very not perfectly normal.

You took a deep breath as you closed and locked the door. Laurence had left exactly an hour ago, and you had spent most of that time covering the fading bruise on your face with makeup. Joints and muscles still ached, screaming at times in pain, but that was nothing compared to how your ribs felt when you moved wrong.

“I’m not doing anything wrong.”

You whispered it again and again, trying to convince yourself as you locked the door. The words were a silent prayer as you walked down the sidewalk, words accented by the soft click clacking of your heels.

You’d duck into the first alleyway and add the hat and flashy shawl. you told yourself. It helped to replay the plan you had concocted. Then you’d walk to where you would meet Alastor and get into his car, alone.

Alone with a man who wasn’t your husband.

You would go help him pick curtains. That was fine. There was nothing wrong with that. It was innocent.

So why did it feel like the start of an affair?

It surprised Alastor that he was actually looking forward to spending a few hours of the day in your company. Turning the idea over in his head, he couldn’t pull apart why he was looking forward to it. Finally, he settled on that it would do him good to have someone other than Mimzy to pass some time with.

He couldn’t kill Laurence, Alastor knew that, but taking his wife right out from under his nose would feel like death to the clearly possessive man. It was clear as day, Laurence cared about the potential of losing his wife, feared it even. He’ll gamble her, barter her, give her away, but he feared actually losing her.

Learning this bit of information came at a terrible cost, but Alastor was determined to make that up to you. Killing your husband to grant you your freedom wasn’t an option. Doing so would be sloppy, but Alastor could convince you to run away with him.

He could hide you in his home for a few weeks or months. It’s not like Mimzy couldn’t help hook you up with some new identification. Sure, in the end he would break her heart, but she wouldn’t spend your nights getting beaten anymore.

That was how he could save you.

Maybe if he brought Mimzy in on the plan, she’d get off his ass about not having a partner for a while. He could even let her believe the game, too.

Alastor leaned against the hood of his car, tucked deep in the dark alley with a simple white daisy twirling between his fingers. The flower spun this way and that as he ran his fingers back and forth. A white blur danced to the left. Then a white blur danced to the right. Then it went back again.

It had caught his eye as he got into the car, off in his yard, growing all alone but standing proud in the patch of grass. Alastor remembered how tears gathered in your eyes when you admitted Laurence replaced the flowers he picked for her with the large over priced florist display.

It had touched him that you preferred the flowers he had picked for you. The display your husband had brought was nothing less than impressive, yet you were left wanting the simplicity of a home picked arrangement.

Absentmindedly, he spun the flower between his fingers as he waited until you turned the corner. He couldn’t help but laugh as he got sight of you, shawl high around your neck and shoulders, draped over you like you were trying to fight off a chill. You walked slunched, shoulders pulled high.

“You look like you’re 80,” Alastor chuckled as you peeked up at him from under the most out-of-place bowl hat he had seen.

“Good, no one will tell Laurence.” You gave him a tense smile as you slipped the shawl from your shoulders and stuffed it into your bag.

Alastor reached out and plucked the hat from your head and held it out to you. “The current hat trends are ridiculous.”

“They are,” you agreed and marveled at the fact that you didn’t feel like you had to. “Thankfully, I don’t have to wear them often.”

“This is for you,” Alastor held out the single white flower for you. “Since my last floral offering was lost, this is easier to hide. A token of thanks for allowing me to patch you up.”

You hesitated, hand longing to reach out for the flower for a moment. Alastor had worded it as if you had just misplaced the flowers, let them on a bench and forgotten to pick them up again. You knew he knew what had happened to them. You had told him yourself, tears running down your face as he wrapped bandages around your ribs.

“I thought this outing was in exchange for that?” You gathered the courage to take the pretty little flower from him just the same.

Alastor walked around the front of his car, making his way to the passenger side before looking at the building next to him. “I’ll get the door for you, but you’ll have to come around to this side to get in. The fit is a bit tight.”

You made your way past him, trying to ignore the way his hand grazed your lower back, acting as a barrier between you and the dirty wall though you had plenty of room. You held your breath as he opened the door for you, arm reaching out and boxing you in.

There was nowhere to go but into the seat, Alastor was behind you and the door in front of you. It was the car or the wall and his arm stretched to the door, long fingers wrapped around the steel.

“Where are we going?” You look over at him, lingering in the car’s door instead of getting in.

“Next town over. About an hour to get there, but I’ll get you back home well before the clock strikes midnight, and the carriage turns into a pumpkin.”

You lingered for a moment longer, eyes scanning over the surrounding darkness. Dim sunlight filtered in between the buildings and people passed by on the sidewalks. Going with Alastor was a dangerous decision, but you had already put yourself in a dangerous situation.

One last deep breath and you decided to trust Alastor.

It was very much a decision you made as you slipped into the car. It wasn’t lost on you the danger you were placing yourself in as he closed the door behind you. Each choice you were making was putting you in more and more danger, but as you looked back at his kind smile and warm eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel the amount of fear you should.

He could hurt you. He could rape you. He could kill you. He could be the butcher killer, responsible for all the partial bodies found in the bayou and in the alleyways. He could tell the world that he got you alone and disparage your honor.

He could end your life in so many different senses of the word.

But you trusted him, though you had little reason to.

The car came to life with a roar after he settled into the driver’s seat, and he slowly pulled out of the alley. It was safer to keep your head down as he navigated his way out of the city, but you struggled to do that. Instead, you looked at him, stealing glances more often than you should.

The sun was out and lit up his skin. It looked like he was glowing, bathed in the warm light. His hair looked like melted chocolate or perhaps a warm cup of coffee. You couldn’t decide. There were no words you could find to describe the way his eyes shone in the sun.

Feeling your eyes on him, Alastor looked over and your breath locked in your chest. It felt like your heart was beating hard enough to re-break your ribs and, as his smile flashed just a bit wider; you didn’t think your heart could pound harder.

You tore your eyes away from his, cursing the way you felt your blood rush through your body. Instead, you focused on his hands. They were large, clean but littered with little scars here and there, telling a story of manual labor at some point. Was it work prior to his career? When he was a boy? Or marks left from a hobby?

What did he do with his free time? Did he still do whatever had left those scars? Or were they from less relaxed employments in the past? You wanted to know more about this man. Rather than bravely asking, you swallowed every question on the tip of your tongue.

Soft music filled the car as he switched on the radio, fingers moving confidently while with no need to take his eyes off the road. You admired how long his fingers were as he wrapped them around the steering wheel, grip shifting and tightening as he drove.

“We’re just about out of the city,” Alastor said softly, breaking you out of your trance. How long had you been watching his hands work? Did he know you had been watching?

As foot traffic grew lighter and houses fewer, you relaxed back into your seat. There was no reason to keep your head down or look at Alastor, so you looked at the world speeding past. You told yourself that you had just had been limited to where you could put your eyes and how you could face in the city, but you feared it wasn’t true.

This wasn’t the first time you had left the city, but it had been a long time since you had last done so. You were fairly sure that you hadn’t left the city since your honeymoon. Had it really been years?

“Does…” your eyes flicked to him as Alastor trailed off for a moment before choosing his word, “he work a lot typically?”

“He?”

“Your husband.” The growl that crawled into Alastor’s voice at the word made you raise your eyebrows, but you did not point it out or question it. It wasn’t a woman’s place to question such things.

“Fairly,” you shrugged, “He works hard to provide for us.”

“Not hard enough, evidently.” Alastor’s rich laugh filled your ears. His words should have offended you on behalf of your husband. You struggled to feel offense when the man who spoke the words was the same man who had cared for you in the aftermath of one of the worst beatings of your life. It felt like he had earned the right to say such things, purchased it with his kindness.

“What do you mean?” You tried to laugh it off. It shocked you that it didn’t feel as forced as it should have been.

“He needed a loan, didn’t he?” Alastor glanced your way again. “What’s he even do?”

“You don’t know? I thought you were business associates?” You turned to look at him more fully, taking your eyes off the passing world outside.

“Not really.” Alastor shrugged, “A friend asked me to help her associate out with a loan, said he was in a pinch. I entertained the offer and found his charming wife to be an entertaining hostess.”

“Marketing,” you said, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to understand what he was saying. “His family has owned a marketing firm for generations. He inherited it when his father passed.”

“Comes from money?” Alastor’s hand twitched tighter around the steering wheel before it relaxed. “I could smell it on him.”

“Is that a problem?” you asked, but Alastor simply waves the question away with a flick of his long hand.

“He is away from the house much?”

“Why do you want to know?” You leaned away from him, pulling your lip between your teeth as he glanced at you, eyebrow raised.

“Because, my dear, I’d like to know when I can call on you. Clearly, he isn’t seeing to the care and keeping of his lovely wife. Someone has to make sure you’re not left hobbled with a dislocated finger, or worse. I don’t exactly get the impression you’ve got other friends calling on you to check after your wellbeing. Men like that rarely take kindly to women who might gossip in the shops fluttering around.”

You hated the fact that he was right.

Alastor looked back to the road after watching the way you flinched at his words. He hadn’t been sure of it, not totally, but now he was. You were alone, trapped with a brute, with no one to confide in or help you out. It was amazing what light was left in your eyes hadn’t already been snuffed out.

“Does he watch you?” Alastor asked softly.

“I don’t understand?”

“We’re almost there,” Alastor said first, before clarifying. “Does he keep an eye on what you do? How you pass your days?”

“To a degree,” you didn’t want to admit how you feared the eyes of strangers and acquaintances alike. “But doesn’t every husband?”

“No.” Alastor answered flatly.

“Oh? And how would you know that? Are you someone’s husband?”

Alastor laughed, “I don’t have to be to know that a marriage should be rooted in safety, trust, and love.

The conversation stalled as Alastor parked the car; the engine dying with a swift turn of the key. Alastor glanced at her, an ever present calm smile twitching a bit wider as he opened the door. You sat for a moment as his door closed, puzzled.

He had a lovely smile. It was one that dazzled in his eyes when he let it grow. He was always smiling, and it seemed to grow just a little when he looked at you. With a shake of your head, you forced the thought out of your head. It was just the silly thoughts of a silly woman who needed to get her head out of the clouds.

Regardless of what your heart tried to whisper, this was nothing more than a slightly scandalous budding friendship. He was a friend, and he was only asking questions because he wanted to grow the friendship. That was all it was. Nothing more in the slightest.

Alastor opened the passenger door, derailing your train of thought. Had you been sitting there in the car thinking for so long that he had enough time to make it around? You must have been, but it didn’t feel like you had. He was so tall and quick, surely he just covered the distance faster than you expected.

“Shall we?” Alastor held his hand out to you, bent slightly at his waist as he peered inside the car.

After a moment of thought, you nodded and slipped your hand into his. He steadied you as you stepped out of the car, body sore still from the beating and stiff from the drive. It felt good to lean on his strength, to have someone offer you support as he tucked your hand to rest on his arm.

His arm was strong and steady, offering you both as your steps occasionally faltered. With your hand tucked in the crook of his arm, you walked into the store together, almost smoothly.

It felt good to have a friend; you told yourself, even if that’s all he could ever be. It felt good to have someone other than Laurence and your family’s letters in your life. It felt good to have Alastor’s time and attention, even if just for a little while.

You felt good with Alastor, safe with him. You allowed yourself to enjoy that feeling, forced yourself to relax with the one man who had never raised his hand to you.

Alastor sat, legs stretched out along the thick branch of the apple tree he had perched himself in. Crickets sang in the night air as he watched, large knife in hand and stars glittering overhead. He wasn’t sure why he was there, but it was where he ended up after stuffing the body in the trunk of his car.

Running his tongue over his lips, he marveled at the coppery taste of the blood splatter drying on his lips. It paired nicely with the cigarette held between his fingers, its ember glowing softly in the darkness.

Did you know how easy this tree was to climb? He doubted it. You didn’t seem to give such things much thought.

Did you know that someone sitting in this tree could see into your bedroom easily? He doubted that even more. You had been so hurt and yet you were so trusting still.

Not that peeping in women’s windows was his typical way to spend the post kill come down.

With the window closed and the distance, he couldn’t hear what was being said, but it was clear Laurence wasn’t happy with you. Alastor’s jaw clenched as he watched the man’s hand sail through the air, sending you to the floor.

It wasn’t right, in his opinion, to strike out at the fairer sex, but society didn’t agree. It was dreadfully normal. What wasn’t normal was the way Laurence dragged you up from the ground by your hair, screaming in your face.

Alastor thought the man’s head looked strangely like a tomato. If he stepped on the man’s head and ground his heel in hard enough, perhaps Alastor could burst it like a tomato too. That would be oh so satisfying.

With a sigh, Alastor resumed cleaning the blood from the large hunting knife in his hand, running the black cloth over the antler hilt, carefully cleaning the blood from every dip in the textured surface.

As Alastor watched Laurence throw you to the ground and pull his leg back to kick at you, Alastor imagined how satisfying it would feel to plunge his knife into Laurence’s soft side.

Would Laurence look at him with the same fear Alastor caught a flash in your eyes countless times when he moved too quickly, or his hand settled on you before you relaxed again? Oh, how delicious fear would look in his eyes.

With a sigh, Alastor put the thought away. As fun as that would be, he couldn’t fit a second body in the back of his car. If Laurence went missing, his associates would be looked into. Alastor couldn’t afford the potential attention of being close to a victim either. The fewer eyes on him, the better.

Don’t hunt those you can be tied to. That was one of his rules. It didn’t matter how disgusting they were; they were safe to protect himself.

His head thumped back against the tree as he tore his eyes from the sight of you pulling yourself up with the foot of the bed while your husband stormed out of the room.

As Alastor slipped his favored knife into the well-worn leather sheath, he couldn’t help but think of what Mimzy had said. He didn’t have to be alone. If a man like Laurence could have a companion as meek and easy to control as you, was there really a reason Alastor couldn’t?

It wasn’t that he wanted a wife. Far from it, really. But having one would put an end to performing the courting of the occasional dame. She could provide a cover, simple and easy.

It’s not like he needed genuine love. He doubted that was a thing he would ever find for himself, anyway. Alastor didn’t know why he was the way he was, but he knew some part of him was broken.

He was sure at this point that he couldn’t love someone beyond the bonds of family, of which he had none left. It simply wasn’t possible for him, or he would have found it by now. Someone would have surely caught his eye, but none had.

And that was alright. It wasn’t in the cards for his way of life. Love could be a liability. The last thing Alastor needed was more liabilities.

#Alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hazbin x you #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x oc #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor #human!alastor #human!alastor x reader

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bitchesgetriches · 1 month

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Hey bitches! Other than a downpayment, whag other money should you have saved before looking to buy a house?

Great question, my little wombat! Depending on where you live, you might be responsible for the closing costs, which for me personally were somewhere around $5k. Or, you'll need to pay the realtor's fees (again, depends on where you live).

Also, you'll want to have some set aside for urgent repairs or renovations. For example, when we bought our house we needed to build a privacy fence around part of the backyard so our dog could frolic without running away.

ALL of these costs can be negotiated with the seller. We got our seller to take on the closing costs and pay to repair two broken windows. In exchange, we didn't ask them to lower the price because the furnace needed to be replaced.

Good luck, my darling wombat! Hope you get a great house! Here's more advice:

Season 2, Episode 2: “I'm Not Ready to Buy a House---But How Do I *Get Ready* to Get Ready?”

Did we just help you out? Join our Patreon!

#down payment #real estate #buying a house #how to buy a house

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chaoticreation · 11 months

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10/29/23

This area is a death sentence without transportation. I'm running out of food, I can't get my prescriptions, can't flee in an emergency, and me and Syd have been freezing for like, a month, aside from the past two days because it's been surprisingly warm out for October. But November is around the corner, and it's gonna get cold. Fast.

I don't have the funds to repair my van, or the furnace.

Eventually, I'm gonna go homeless if the taxes aren't paid, but the van and furnace are extremely pressing matters right now.

If you can afford to donate, I'd appreciate anything you can spare. If you can't, that's okay. You can still help by sharing this campaign! Please don't donate if you can't afford to, but please SHARE no matter what!

OUR SURVIVAL DEPENDS ON IT. YES, I AM BEGGING. I'M TERRIFIED.

Gfm requires at least $5 donation, so if you can't swing that, you can send less to:

ven.mo: https://account.venmo.com/u/rroche90 pay.pal: [email protected]

Edit, 11/7/23: And we also don't have hot water now either. When the plumber came to give me an estimate on the furnace, he found that the hot water heater had a bad leak, so that was turned off to reduce damage.

Edit, 11/12/23: Septic problems now, too. Sinks are backing up. Woo! Still no heat, btw. It's been a month without heat and it's getting colder. Friend bought Syd a bigger hospital cage, but it hasn't arrived yet, so poor girl has to continue to suffer. Still no transportation, either. HEAP has said they'll pay half the furnace bill if I'm on the deed, which I can't and won't do until the taxes are paid off. I'm not about to inherit that debt.

@sydthetiel is being kept in a tiny hospital cage in my office with a space heater. Not ideal, but it's keeping her warm at least.

We're really not okay.

Edit, 11/16/23: Still no heat or hot water. Plumber isn't even actually getting back to us lmao. Mechanic got back to us, though, and they've found that the brake lines are rusted and need to be replaced. They want an extra $3500 for that. So it'd be roughly $6,000 to get my van repaired. Or I can just fix what I can fix at $2,000 and take my chances with rusted brake lines, and be an accident waiting to happen because I'm desperate to not be trapped in a freezing house with no meds or food or water lmao. Or I just don't get to have transportation back. Or I have to buy a new used vehicle, for like, $15,000+. So... mostly there's just no hope left for me. I'm ready to just give up. It's too much to fix, and my odds of survival are at 0 anyway. I won't last the winter here, and I can't even leave.

Edit, 11/22/23: That plumber ghosted us. We got a new plumber. He came out yesterday and got the furnace rigged to work, just in time. As he pulled into the driveway, it started sleeting and snowing. Throughout the night. The problem is, the furnace isn't fixed, so it could crap out at any moment. The water heater is off, but still leaking, so it's time sensitive to have it replaced. But he's pointed out another problem with that; Rex's hoarding. We need to be able to get rid of enough of her crap to get the equipment in and out. He can do it, but it's gonna cost. Additionally, the chimney isn't in great shape so we have to do something about that, or it's going to defeat the purpose of these replacements. Waiting for the quotes on everything.

As for my van, it's ready to be picked up, without the brake lines being finished. We found a new place that said they'd charge between $700-$1000 to replace the brake lines. A lot better than $3,500, but still not money I have. So until I can do that, it's a risk driving it, but I really don't have a choice. I can't stay living like this, trapped in the middle of nowhere. It's defeating me mentally and physically. But there's another problem too, that won't be covered under warranty. A knock sensor. No idea how much it'll cost yet, but it needs to be replaced in order for the van to pass inspection in December.

I'm feeling incredibly hopeless. I can't even run, because I have Syd, and I'm not going to abandon her. She's my kiddo. She's in a bigger cage now, happily. But I'm at such a loss of what to do. We're not going to survive the winter here without these repairs, and fleeing is going to be really difficult, and I may not have a home to come back to in Spring if I did manage to leave for the winter with Syd.

#signal boost #gofundme #donation #fundraiser #help us survive

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copperbadge · 7 months

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Radio Free Monday

Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!

Ways to Give:

cluegirl linked to a fundraiser for deliriumcrow, who lost nearly everything in a house fire two years ago, and was then robbed by the contractor hired to repair the house. They are currently paying a mortgage on a home that is facing condemnation if they can't raise the money for a new contractor; you can read more and reblog here or support the fundraiser here.

savrenim is the sole breadwinner for their disabled partner and two friends living with them; they have had to deal with several financial setbacks including loss of owed back pay, moving and home repair costs, and vet bills; they are fundraising to cover moving costs and to be prepared for when payments come due on a loan they had to take to cover expenses. You can read more and reblog here or give via ko-fi here.

Nik is raising funds for a cross-country move from Oregon to West Virginia, in hopes they can find a home to thrive in after escaping an abusive upbringing; you can read more and support the fundraiser here.

Recurring Needs:

Anon linked to a fundraiser for a friend whose family has not had a working furnace since November; they've been using space heaters to keep warm but January in Chicago has been brutal and the space heaters aren't sufficient. With vulnerable family members including elderly relatives and children in the home, they need to raise $6K to get the furnace replaced. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.

Anon linked to karla-hoshi or Hoshi on TikTok, who is raising funds for cancer treatment for her cat Naku; they caught the cancer early and hope that he can survive it, but can't continue treatment without funding. You can read more and support the fundraiser here, as well as find links to her updates on tiktok.

chingaderita's partner's family house recently caught fire and completely burned, killing his grandmother and causing extensive property loss; he has also recently lost his job due to the fire, and a number of family members have since become ill. They're raising funds to keep food on the table, to try and get a supply of water to keep clean and do laundry, and for various bills until a job opportunity in March comes available. You can read more, reblog, and support the fundraiser here.

And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form. If you're new to fundraising, you may want to check out my guide to fundraising here.

#radio free monday #charity #philanthropy #fannish community

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orenjikaraka · 1 year

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After Dark

Miguel O’hara x reader angst

Summary: Miguel was on a mission with this new villain (well beast) and this beast had parasites killing people and other spiders that would try to stop it, it got so bad that Miguel has to kill the creature, Miguel gets a parasite during the process, everyone from that universe cheered for saving them, but at what cost of a parasite slowly killing him in the process. Miguel tried to not panic and went back home… but when he got “home” (your apartment) a heavy thud was heard, which woke you up from your long day of being a spider-woman.

parasite: this parasite makes you nauseous, you won’t be able to eat regular foods (if ya eat food, you’ll instantly throw up what you eat), your only available to eat is meat, but mostly blood, can’t get up regularly, if ya do, you get dizzy spells and instance migraines (it feels like your head is spitting), it’s hard to breathe, but when you try to sit up it feels like there’s thorns in your lungs, your body trembling with aches…

Warnings: blood, puke, puking blood, anxiety, vulnerability, s/o has nipple piercings, some nudity, drinking blood (from the neck), sick Miguel, and swearing

I have a pain kink, I like seeing men feeling vulnerable…

Also Miguel and s/o are really good friends, like very fondly close to give each other kisses on the neck or cheek, also also s/o can see people’s inner thoughts but not love or lust, that would be cheating if ya can say~

Miguel’s thoughts are red, your’s is violet, but also please leave a comment if I wrote some Spanish words wrong, I don’t speak Spanish… enjoy!

Word count: 7k

A heavy thud was heard in your living room, it was 2 in the morning, your spider senses was telling you it was another spider, so you didn’t freak out as much, you got your cute warm slippers on, and rub your tired eyes to wake yourself up more, your drowsiness was telling you to go back to sleep, until your ears heard a voice.

“Dios mio…” he breathed out

‘Miguel?’ why is Miguel here. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind the leader of the fucking spider society in my living room, but we barely talked, well does he talk to anybody; there’s Peter B. and his cute daughter Mayday, but he always gives annoyance vibes towards Peter, but compared to Mayday, he gives a gruff face but you can see sincerely in his eyes.

She slowly got up and opened her door and saw Miguel, he was panting heavily, like he was struggling to breathe, each time he breathe, he would hic each time, his talons were digging into you carpet but you couldn’t care less. You quietly rush towards him.

“Miguel-“

“Stop-“ his voice was wobbly, his mask was getting hard to breathe through, he unclawed his right talon and tried to peel his masked off, but his hand was shaking tremendously, “Mierda- Mi—“, you notice his struggle and you moved your hands and tarred his mask off, ripped glitches were trying to replace what was being tarred, but Miguel pressed his chest sloppy and and it stopped reforming.

Miguel’s hair was drenched in sweat he was panting like a mess, his chest was rapidly increasing pace, he was staring at your ceiling, clenching his red eyes here and there.

“Miguel… what happened-“

“I— it’s hard to explain…” he panted

She gently put her hand on his cheek, “Miguel! Your like a furnace!” She whispered yelled, “your baking in your suit, let me-“

Miguel shook his head violently and tried to sit up, but stopped mid way, and growled in pain, he clenched his teeth, grinding together like rocks grinding against each other.

“Fuck… this— parasite-“ he pled, he laid back down and looked around his body, you saw something small moving under his suit, or skin. You looked worried, so you moved and put your thighs under his head, while he was panicking to find it, you lightly push his head on your lap, he widened his eyes and look up at you.

“Wa- what the shock are you doin- (Y/n)-“

“Is.. it this…”

You gently touch the small moving bump on his shoulder, it hiss, which made Miguel clenched his eyes shut, he growled in agony, and grabbed your wrist, his hold was tight, his talons slightly digging in your skin,

“sto- stop—“

“Sorry—“

Everything felt silent, only things that made noise was the clicking of your clock over the kitchen fridge, or Miguel’s light panting, before Miguel noticed his grip on you still, the little parasite moved again, he let go and got ready to dig it out of his skin…. Until Lyla appeared in a blink of a eye.

“STOP!”

“Lyla….” Miguel growled

“Hey don’t go off killing yourself just yet!”

Miguel froze up and looked at Lyla like she was delusional.

“Lyla…” he slowly put his right hand to his nose, “if this is one of your sick jokes again I swear-“

“I’m not! If ya kill that thing or even snag it out, it would kill you. They’re like a second heart if you know what I mean.”

“So if he or I kill it or ya know, he would die instantly. How-“

“The parasite would feel threatened and bite him 0.0001 seconds before you can even touch it. The venom runs straight to your heart, you’ll-“

“Die” Miguel spoke

Everyone went silent, Miguel felt his muscles tense which made his body aches more, he felt frustrated, and you felt lost, heh- it’s pathetic actually, someone from the spider society is dying in your very house, someone that never talked to anyone, gets annoyed easily from even being around normal people, isolates himself with his high tech monitors and his little cute ai nagging him, to watch his health and well-being of being a leader. Until… I showed up. Everyone thought of me as the wannabe spider, the spider that wanted to save everyone and every spec around, until they knew that I murdered my first villain, that’s why everyone thinks I’m a wannabe or knew that I would soon become one, each spider looked at me weird or terrified because I murdered a couple of villains, it’s not my fault I wanted to be the very first anti-spider. It wasn’t my fault that people called me a false spider…well Miguel never thought of me like that, some missions he would talk to me, sometimes I would sneak around the vents of the spider society to explore more but fell right into Miguel’s quarters, he wasn’t mad, he was surprised, because how talented I was to be so quiet going through the vents, when we have meetings… he would have sincerity in his eyes on me, like he wanted yell at everyone that would give me a bad glare…

I was a spider-woman in his eyes, even if it was hard to express it, in his own way…

“Miguel…” you spoke

“(Y/n)…” he open his eyes and looked at you, you had a small frown, he thought he just broke your- no- “his”little spider. In little small fragments of shattered crystal shards.

“Your going to be ok- right?!” (Y/n) whispered

Miguel felt like he was being punished, punished for getting hurt, punished for getting sick, punished for slowly dying in your very own fucking house.

“Chica, I’ll be ok…” he put a hand on your cheek, talons already gone, he felt weak, he felt vulnerable, but… you’ll never judge a book by it cover, even if it’s scraped a little.

She gave a soft gentle giggle, “I’m not some chica, Mig. I’m 26.”

He scuffed, even when his lungs burns, “well… I’m 37. So your still just a small spider, chica…”

While Lyla was looking silently through her tiny monitors, she felt like crying because how Miguel is generally happy being around you, you don’t know it… but Miguel loves you, even when he denies it when Lyla questions it; he can’t keep his eye off you, when you two cross paths, when he suddenly talks about you out of nowhere, when— when… he thinks out loud if you would actually like him back, even if it’s a small like, just a smidge, maybe even a mere small spec, he’ll try and try again to make you his, to have you in his arms for comfort, that won’t judge his problems, that won’t think he’s just a weak bastard of how vulnerable he can be around you… he feels… intoxicated around you, like you are some kind of dose that is not his normal routine of taking his weekly dose each week. To keep his mind on check. It hurts to see Miguel in so much pained under your arms…

Your his Star and he’s your moon…

Lyla clears her throat suddenly, which got both of your attentions, “don’t want to be a buzz kill, but… basically that parasite is like a disease with no cure… you get normal sicknesses, but-

“What do you mean there’s no way through this.” You looked at Miguel and he seemed frustrated.

“Miguel! I’m literally the interweb of every universe and I was trying to explain ways to go around it-“

“LYLA! There’s no tries or coulds, I need to get back to my office and check if anyone or everything ok!”

Miguel sit up suddenly; his talons were back and he clutching his scalp in frustration? or was it pain? “Lyla I need this thing out!”

Lyla looked irritated, “…” she glitched or zipped away if you might say.

“LYLA! Coño… Coño- Dios mio…” he clenched his scalp with his hands harshly, he growled in frustration.

‘Oh… mig…’ you were just as worried as him, “Miguel…” you said so lightly, so gentle it cooled his nerves, but he didn’t respond, so you moved a little closer to see his face, you were just concerned about him, so why did he looked away to his left, “Miguel…” you put a hand on his right shoulder, “why are you hiding your face, mig?” She was only concerned, so why is it so hard.

“Mig?”

“I’m sorry— chica…” he then looked at you. Your little worried face just shatters his sore heart. “Miguel! Your nose is bleeding!” She cupped his cheeks and starting rambling how he’s feeling or how if he’s ok. Miguel felt guilt consumed him, why are you so kind to him, why show your kindness and sympathy towards a man is consumed with troubles and doubts that can never be fixed. And only cause more when time passes…

“No Sorry’s, I’m going to give ya a towel, be right back!” She said in a fast sweep. Miguel saw you dashing to your bathroom, he felt nauseous from just looking up and trying to trace your body to you bedroom, when he didn’t saw you a while, he moved his vision back to his hands, he was slightly crisscrossed and his talon hands were trembling, he groaned slightly because he tried to put his talons away, but they were making his muscles tensed, “Por qué no puedo…” he growled in frustration, when tried again, the blood in his nose suddenly dripped more, then he stopped and clenched his eyes again, then put the back of his wrist on his nose to stop the bleeding.

“Miguel!” She came rushing back with some medicine and a small towel, “move your wrist…” she said gently, so he did so. You put the towel under his nose, when the bleeding stopped you removed the towel, “what symptoms do you have so I give ya some medicine.”

“Just… a migraine, I feel nauseous, and my muscles feel tensed and burning like they’re in flames…”

“Ok- I’ll give ya some Ibuprofen and some massages when you get to my bed.”

“Your bed?”

“Ye… there’s no way your going home in your condition, I need to make sure your fine for these couple of days, well… whenever Lyla figures it out, that cool ai of yours got you!” She said with a bubbly smile.

“K…” he felt his heart skipped a beat because how can someone be so there for someone that basically a outsider or you might say a loner, well a workaholic recluse, “thanks… amor…” he said just barely a whisper but she heard, she softly giggled, “your welcome, also I like that nickname more, I aren’t no little girl, Miggy!”

He blushed slightly by your new nickname you gave him. “Ok… amor…”

She softy chuckle, “also-“ she clears her throat, “when you were laying down did you feel better or worse?”

“I felt a lot better when I was laying then now…”

She nods, “ok, also….” she trails off, “could you stand. Well- can ya get up without falling over or feeling dizzy?”

Miguel looked at you unamused and scuffed it off, he moved his right arm to the floor, and his talons pierced through your floor, but you couldn’t care less, he slowly pushed himself up, but faltered, his hand and arm was trembling, so he then he lowered himself, frustration consumed him, so he started muttering angry Spanish, you put your fingers gently through his damped hair, messaging his locks, “Miggy…. It’s ok to have a helping hand…”

His frustration eases, he nods and you stood up, going in front of him, you brought your hands in front of him, he saw and felt hesitant, but brought his hands towards you, when he got close, you brought your hands a little back, which Miguel looked at you questioning.

“Your talons are out.” She said with a uneasy laugh.

“Oh” he felt embarrassed that he didn’t thought of that, so he tried for a second time to close them, but his hands start to tremble again, his frustration was slowly creeping again, so now he forced his hands to stop trembling, but that only made it worse because his arms tensed up more and his finger tips burns, you saw his discomfort; so you grabbed his wrists, Miguel stopped and looked at you.

“Mig don’t force yourself, how about we can just do your wrists.”

He nods again; so you pulled his wrist and he pulled himself up, when he finally got up, he couldn’t control his balance, so you let go his wrist and pressed your body against his for support, Miguel felt nauseous, so he quickly looked to his right and saw your bedroom straight forward, you saw and sensed his inpatients, so you quickly led him to your room, each step you both took, Miguel wheeze for some air, or his panting would get worse, you looked at him, and he was sweating bullets, his eyes clenched in discomfort.

When both of you got to your bed, he settles down, panting like he ran a marathon, you wanted to help, so… you went in your bathroom and grabbed your small trashcan, and placed it next to Miguel, then you speed walked to your living room and grabbed your fan; moved it in your bedroom to face Miguel, Miguel was trying to keep your movement, but just made his migraine worsened, you quickly gave him the Ibuprofen in his hand and rushed to the bathroom again, Miguel swallowed the Ibuprofen, then saw you with a cup of water, “I already swallowed it amor…”

“Oh no- this Is for your hair.” She showed what’s in the cup, it’s water with some soap suds in it, “I’m trying to cool you off. With my fan too but some cold water will help you cool down…” Miguel closed his eyes and try to straighten his back, when he did so, he put his head back a little and you poured water through his brown locks, the water poured down his back, Miguel made sure, his back got the cold water, so his chest of his suit disappeared, you looked at his toned body, and you can see how tensed his muscles are.

“Let me give ya some clothes…” you walked over to your dresser, you found some of you ex’s old clothes there, you only wear them for bed as a nightgown or just stay home clothes, you walked back with grey sweat pants and a white shirt. “How do you have my size?”

“Man I don’t know your size. I just kept some of my ex’s clothes because they never came back…”

Miguel nods, then he messed with his watch and a small portal came next to him, with some boxers that came out, it made you giggled, but then you stepped out so he can get changed. 20 minutes has passed and he called your name, and you came back in, you saw that the shirt fitted him but slightly baggy on him, the sweats fit, “the shirt my size, but it’s not tight fitting,” he muttered.

“Well I wanted to make sure your comfortable.”

“Your kindness always makes me comfortable.”

She smiled, “try laying down, I’m going to get some crackers for you to eat and some massaging oils for your back, be right back…” she trails off at the end. Miguel nods and saw she walked away again, he laid his back on your bed.

Fuck this bed was softer then his own, ‘maybe I need a new mattress’ he thought, his talons were taring your sheets, so he moved his hands and looked at his hands, ‘stupid parasite.’ He laid them back down, facing his talons to the ceiling and moved his arms back to push himself more on the bed, when he got situated, his back was tensing up again, so he moved his body to the left, the parasite was on his left, but it didn’t got alarmed by his movement on the bed. ‘That’s good to know.’ It was more comfortable to be on his side, his breathing wasn’t terrible, but he still had to breathe slowly…

“Oi!” He looked up a little and saw you with a box of crackers and the other had the massaging oil, he looked at the crackers; a slight ting was grumbling in his stomach, well he haven’t ate since morning, he slightly reached out for the crackers, which you understand, you moved the trash can to his side, which was on the right side of your bed, and placed the crackers to the other pillow next to him, so he can see where the crackers were. Then put the oil on the small dresser next to your bed.

“Hey mig. Could you move you body and lay on your stomach, try not to disturb-“

Miguel moved his body fairly quickly, and he got sorted on his stomach, he was laying his head on his wrist, his hands were sideways, so it didn’t do any harm on anything.

“Apparently the little bastard doesn’t get alarmed on beds.”

She giggled, “ok! Wait shoot your shirt.” Miguel sighed and slowly took his shirt off without getting any tars on “his” shirt. And got situated again.

“Ok now… we can start also tell me if I make you uncomfortable…”

“Why would-“

You lightly touch his back and pushed your light self on top of him, he slightly groans because of pressure, which he can hear you say sorry here and there. When you got situated on his back, you were sitting on his lower back, he felt a flush on his cheeks, but he try to brush it off by turning his head to the left and started eating crackers, you on the other hand, got up a little and moved to grabbed the oil.

You got it and put it on your hands and place the oil bottle next to your left foot, so it won’t be a hassle, Miguel stopped eating some crackers and laid on his wrist again, waiting for you, you rubbed your hands, then started on his shoulders.

“Jeez you have terrible knots back here…”

Miguel grumbles. But soon stops when your small hands were easing his pain on his shoulders, he felt his talons detract, which made him stretch his arms upward to get more comfortable to lay down, you found it a good opportunity to put some pressure on the hard knots, which felt luscious in his pores, which made him moan gently with each stoke you did, it made you stopped suddenly.

“Sorry-“ his ears were red from embarrassment.

“No- your ok! I actually get this a lot when I massage someone, it just feels nice in your pores.” She said bubbly

Miguel just nodded and you continued, you finished his shoulders and put your left on his neck and your right on his spinal region, his neck was great, but when you moved from his spine to under his shoulder blades, it felt like heaven, each push caused his hands to clench at the end of your mattress, he was trying to stop a whipper from escaping, it felt intoxicating when you moved and your thighs moved each time you massage with content in your rhythm of massages. You slightly slowed down and you kept pressing one spot under his shoulder blade.

“Rats. There’s another bad knot here…” you moved your hand from his neck, because his neck was fine now, and pressed your hands on the knot, which made Miguel groan, but soon whimpered when you curved your left and slide your right with some pressure, it made his hip twitched slightly, which caught your attention. To see the leader so squeamish in your touch, so you wanted to test something. When you got the knot out of the way, you move your gentle hands under his shoulder blades, Miguel twitched his shoulders back in a quick motion from your oh sweet touch, you happily sighed when you found one of his sensitive spots, so your rubbed gently under the under rims of his blades, his hip instantly buckled, and he purred a groan of feeling vulnerable in your soft touch, melting those heavy tension from his body and leaving him feel embarrassed or tranquil in your touch.

You we’re about to stroke again until.-

“(Y- (Y/n)” his voice was deep, but it whimpered then his usual rhythm.

“Hm?”

“Try-“ he cleared his throat, “try by massaging my lower back…”

It was a simple task, a very simple one, but oh boy how she gently smiles, it made him flushed under your touch, but your smile, took him spiraling into his own black hole, how you touched him, made him crave for more, he needed more, oh why did he drown himself in his work, those countless nights, where his neck cracked here and there, how drinking coffee after coffee, with not even thinking of eating normally until his Ai Lyla has to get Jess or Peter to deliver him some food, he would feel so suffocated in his office, that he felt like drowning in his own agonizing guilt of “his” own deceased daughter that he had to watch die in his arms.

He clenched his eyes shut at the thought, and he felt his stomach curled, but was it really the sheer thought of “his” daughter making him feel nauseous; your fingers were just softly touching his lower back, but they made him felt like he was about to gag each touch. He felt it boiling up his throat, so he panicked. His sudden movements, stopped your trace of thought and your movements halted. You stared at him with concern.

“Miguel-“

He grabbed the small trash can and puked whatever what’s in his stomach, it was only a minute in a half, but it felt like hours, you got off of him, and he moved sideways so you can sat next to him, he was clenching his stomach in discomfort..

You tried to reassure him but-

“(Y/n)…” his voice was raspy

“Hey… don’t sweat… I’ll clean everything up, just try to relax…”

Your voice was calming down his tension, but his upsetting stomach was taking curves and spins like a giant venom ate his inner organs, sweat was dampening his brown locks again and his talons were slowly appearing again. He groaned in annoyance. His breathing was heavy again. He was laying on his left and his eyes were closed with discomfort, he heard you rushing around, mumbling of what ‘can’ he possibly eat, cursing at yourself that ‘what the hell is lighter then crackers’, he laughed lightly because he’s gone not eating for a couple days for the multiverse sake, sometimes. when everything went silent; he realized that you were in your living room talking to Lyla. He slightly opened his eyes to see you through the cracked door, you looked stressed and worried of what to do next.

This is my fault…

If I didn’t get close to that beast, this situation wouldn’t existed, I wouldn’t be here in pain, being so weak around you, being vulnerable is humiliating, you might think of him as a burden, just burdensome to not do anything and having the seer thought to pull this fucking Parásito out with his own bloody talons…

——

When you cooled down, Lyla told you that she’ll figure it out, which gave you in a positive note. Lyla zipped out of existence and you returned to your dim lit bedroom, you saw Miguel, his eyes were closed; but he had discomfort on his face, some of his brown bangs were sticking to his forehead, he was panting, which you slowly got close to him and touched his forehead again, he was heating up like a irrupting volcano, he flinched in your touch and tried to scoot back with discomfort.

“Sorry-“

“It’s ok…”

“Lyla trying to find something that you can eat. Or what that little fucker likes.” You pointed at the small parasite that was moving on his shoulder.

Miguel lightly chuckles but it made him cough and wheeze afterwards. When it stopped, he clears his throat to look at you, your little worried eyes was making his heart clenched. He clenched your sheets slightly, slight scratches starting to form.

He was about to spoke up, but you catch him to it.

“Miggy… your not a burden to me, in any way, don’t ever think of that…”

He unclenched his left hand slightly and move the back of his fingers on your knee, “why must you get cooler powers then me…”

She giggled lightly, “because my little violet bit me and apparently i can see your inner thoughts~” when you said that it made Miguel speechless, your voice had a low growl when you spoke, he grave it, but why…

Why did I need you…

She was about get up…

“(Y/n)…”

“Hm…” she looked back at Miguel, god, he needed you…

“Could you…” he felt hesitant again, like he was stuck, like his lungs couldn’t produce air, of how he wanted to, he suddenly grabbed the end of her shirt, slightly tugging it. You noticed it, so you laid next to him. She was about to speak up, suddenly Miguel put his hands around you, when you around him his talons will always detract, he pulled your small waist closer to him, he hug his huge arms around you, he put his head on your right shoulder, you can hear his inner thoughts, telling him ‘to let go’, screaming at him…

Yelling…

Raging…

Despising…

“Miguel…” your left hand moved to massage his damped scalp, your right was rubbing little circles on his back.

“You must think I’m weak…” he said in a shaky breath

“Mig… being vulnerable is not weak, being sick doesn’t stop you from being stronger, it’s just trying to adapt something new it never experience, showing your most vulnerable point, actually makes you stronger…”

His trembling from his body slowly stops, and he breathes out slowly, he was relaxing his muscles to get more comfortable around you, while he was doing so, you felt the parasite nudged your circling finger on his back, you stop immediately, but nothing happened to Miguel, he’s still just as relaxed before.

Maybe I should.

You wanted to test something, you put your pinky on the little parasite, it slightly flinch, which made Miguel growl in discomfort, but you wanted to continue so you lightly pet it, the little fucker was actually relaxing, it made you giggle a little, because it was purring? She was about to tell Miguel, until small vibrations coming off his chest, the sound of purring, like what a cat would do…

“Miguel? Are you purring?”

The edge of his ears got red, he deepened his head to your shoulder, “no…” his voice was stuttering.

“Didn’t know your half spider, had those purring spider instincts…”

He started to mumble Spanish curse words, so you wouldn’t notice his blushed face on your shoulder…

——-

After a while of calming Miguel down, he fell asleep in your arms, he was sleeping on your chest, and he was hugging your waist, you were hugging his neck and your chin was on the top of his head.

“I’ll protect you Miggy…” you whispered, then you move your face to angle it to kiss his forehead.

A light smooch was all you need to make sure, he’s ok in your arms.

You then fell asleep next to him.

—- (morning) —-

Miguel woke up to a cold side of the bed, you weren’t there, which made him feel lonely once more, he slowly opened his eyes, but flinched because of how bright the room was.

“Maldito…”

The blinds weren’t dark enough, so he pulled the blanket over his head, he opened his strained eyes from under the covers, he sighed because you weren’t here to give him comfort, you weren’t around to tell him, he was going to be ok, you weren’t here to give those negative thoughts roaming around in his head, he plagued for you to come back, to hold him, and give gentle kisses and heavenly words to keep him at least happy, instead of being so gone from the world…

“Lyla…”

“Yeah!”

“Where’s (Y/n).” Why is that my first thought.

“She’s out being her universe’s spider, saving people as we speak.”

Miguel nodded under the soft blanket.

“Do you need help?”

“Blinds” he whispered, he hates how he couldn’t do anything…

“Ok.”

Lyla set a long portal out over the clear blinds, a large black blanket came out and landed perfectly on the blinds, there was little hooks hanging off the racks, and it perfectly blocked the sunlight.

“Ya!” Lyla did a little dance as a reward, Miguel just rolled his eyes under the blanket and moved the blanket back on his shoulders, he looked behind him and saw his blanket dangling off the racks.

“Lyla.. that’s- you know what nevermine it works…” he turned back and lays back down.

“Anything else you need?”

“Just some sleep…” he sighed.

Before Lyla was gonna zip away, Miguel’s stomach growled violently, he groaned in annoyance.

“Oh! Almost forgot! I figured out what you need to eat- or drink I mean.”

“What is it…”

“Blood.”

Miguel just was dumbfounded.

“Wha-“

“I know it sounds insane! But I already told (Y/n), so she’ll help you out, byeeee!”

She zipped away as fast as he could say anything else, Miguel sighed once more, blood- blood! Why the hell is it blood.

Why do I even bother.

He moved on his back, forgetting it’s bringing tension on his muscles, he rather have tension on his muscles then thinking about blood, what was your first thought when you heard how delusional it sounds, ‘hey, (Y/n), I’m apparently a real vampire now, har har’

“Fuckin hell…” he groaned in annoyance. He brought his talons hands again and saw the little parasite on his right palm, he wanted to squish it, right when he saw it, but he couldn’t, what will you do if there was a dead body in your own bedroom, more importantly Miguel’s. He care about you so much, and your the same, he remembers when you asked him out, in his office at 12 midnight, how the stars across the night sky spring lifelessly around Noeva York, it was just right in his eyes and yours, but… he had to put the relationship on pause… he didn’t want to, really didn’t need to… but he told you, the multiverse and how if something happens he didn’t know what he’ll do…

In reality…

He doubted himself to even be with you or with anyone a matter of fact. Why be with someone that’s a workaholic, focuses but himself or “sometimes” on others but himself, getting violet bruises that you sarcastically call them your marks, getting cuts that turn into new scars that you like kissing, that… you…

God… even when he hesitated about himself he can’t get you out of his head, he feels trapped in your violet web, he adores you, loves you with all his beaten heart, so why…

why cant I…

The living room’s door suddenly closed with a slam, and tired sigh came from the living room. You came rushing in your room and totally forgotten Miguel was, because you took your mask off, throwing it at your bed, it landed next to Miguel’s upper arm, so he silently move to the right and started fiddling with it, then you unzipped your suit, which made Miguel silently stared at you, because you weren’t wearing a bra, just underwear. You gave a frustrated sigh and scrambling through your dresser, finding the right comfortable clothes to wear to sleep, you stopped suddenly, and stood up suddenly, “it’s in the other dresser…” you growled, and turned, then froze up, now just remembering that Miguel is here…

Miguel’s face was slowly turning into a deep blush, because your beautiful nips were facing him, you had dark violet piercings on each nip, having a cute small tarantulas dangling like little cute earrings, you on the other hand was surprised, seeing Miguel blush like he never seen something or someone that hot in years, which made you giggled from your head, you just smiled, “I… almost forgot you were here…”

“Almost-!”

You started giggling because how flustered he looked, she just waved off her hand and went in the bathroom, apparently her gray shirt and spar bra was in there, leaving Miguel with a blushful crisis, brain cells storming with your soft delicate tits in his mind, apparently that also declawed his talons, because he started to hide his face from all these thoughts.

Why are you so…

So…

“So what mig…”

Your voice made him flinch, and he looked up at you, “when-“

“You were dazed for about 30 minutes, but… why get so flustered, your not a virgin-“

“Amor- you flashed me- what am I supposed to say- like- ‘Qué tetas más bonitas tienes’” he laughs softly, and you laughed gently back, “Mig… I’ve been in many relationships before, if its throughout dressing rooms with woman, or my past boyfriends, I’m used to people’s eyes looking at me… I’m used to that…” she said with sincerity in her eyes.

“Have you ever been in any relationships before?”

“Only one, her name was Dana, but she was never really there… she was nothing compared to you, you genuinely are the sweetest spider I met…” he sighed afterwards slowly putting his right hand on your left thigh, gently rubbing it. “We broke up after 5 months, I tried doing hookups to drown my thoughts away… but that soon turned into work, then Gabriella… then putting all my thoughts into the multiverse…”

“But Miguel you know, I’m here for you, just like now…” you slowly touched his hand, but he flinched, then moved it away…

“You know… I…”

“I understand, but even if we’re just close… but not dating wise, I still want to help you…”

He was about to prevail until his stomach growled once more and you can see the discomfort in his face, so you laid next to him, he knew what you were about to do…

“I’m not-“

“Just think of it as a flu shot…”

No, I’m not hurting you…

“I’m not doing it, just forget about it… I’m used to not eating long periods of times… so dont-“

“Miguel… I’m not going anywhere, till ya try…”

Stop…

“(Y/n). I’m not doing it… forget it.”

She frowned, “I’m not going to sleep until you do…”

You-

Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist, “(Y/n).”

“Miguel. O’Hara. Please….” You put your hands on his shoulders, slightly pushing him closer slowly… he could’ve easily resist but couldn’t because you intoxicated his pores, he loves you, he wants you, he needs you, but there’s always an itch telling him, he would hurt you, he would treat you like what Dana did to him, it would destroy him, if he ever hurts you…

Mi Amor, I don’t want to do this…

Mig… please…

He sighed through his nose, he knows how stubborn you can be, he knows that you would try anything to make sure he’s ok and not you…

He opens his mouth slightly on your neck, shaky breath of hesitation tares his weak heart, he closes it and gives a soft kiss on your neck, his arms tightly hold you, like he was about to lose you, “I’m sorry, my love…”

His teeth sinks in your neck, the venom sinking in your skin, which was numbing the pain from the bite, you hitched In discomfort, tugging on his brown locks to restrain a cry of how horrendous it felt, his scalp was hurting but that didn’t stopped the terrible thoughts that was swarming in his head.

Monster…

Your hurting her…

Inhumane…

When he felt full he let go from your neck, you were paralyzed but you were crying, he froze up, he didn’t know what to do, seeing how vulnerable you are, made him hate himself more, his voice was shaky, but he cupped your face gently, and whispers sorrys, and sorrys, and more sorrys, until he sounded like a broken record… your body was yelling at you to say something, but all you could do was close your eyes… while the hours go by…

—- night ——

When you woke up, you saw Miguel, he was on his side, sleeping soundly, with puffy eyes. His arms were hugging his body, like he was cold, but his damp sweaty hair, showed how he was overheating again, you slowly sit up, and a numbing pain was on your neck, you slowly touch your neck, you felt soft bandage on your neck, it was on the right side of your neck, it was sore, but not bleeding, you look back at Miguel once more, and he was still fast-asleep…

“Oh Miggy… what am I gonna do with you…” you whispered

You slowly got up out of bed and went into your bathroom, you started a cold bath for Miguel, after it was finished she walked back to Miggy, you nudge Miguel lightly.

“Mmggghh…”

“I made a nice cold bath for you-“

Miguel moved his back further away from your touch…

“Miggy… don’t you want to feel cool and refreshed… your heating up again…

Miguel sits up slowly, he was slouching a little when he was sitting, he was huffing slightly more then normal, you were about to lend a hand-

“I don’t need help. I’m fine.”

“Mig-“

He looked back at you like he didn’t want to repeat himself, you gave a frown of concern, but he ignored it and was about to get up, he stopped suddenly, because his nose started to bleed again, you were about to lead him a hand, but he smack your hand away.

“Miguel-“

“No necesito tu ayuda. ¡Detente!”

“Why are you suddenly so stubborn, Miguel- I’m helping you, I’m not agonizing you-“

“Well. You are. by just spatting at me like a child…”

“Oh. So you want to be so distant now, because you gave me a small bite yesterday…”

Miguel couldn’t say anything back, how can he, you were right, and he was being a asshole about it because he thought he can simply run away with the guilt in his chest, instead of just talking to you about… but no… he just wants to make it a whole lot worse.

“Shut your mouth.”

You gave a dry laugh, “Mr O’Hara… if you so deeply don’t need my help or don’t want to talk your doubts straight up, fine… But at least get your head straight because someone. That at least cares for a asshole like you… because last time I check your always alone in damn office…”

You suddenly got up and walked to the living room. You needed your space as he calls it, when you suddenly have your bubble about to burst… he claws the end of your bed, contemplating if he should just apologize or get up and be the asshole he is. So… he chooses the second choice.

He felt like he got hit by a metal bat through the dome, because his eyes were blurring up, he felt nauseous, so he put hands on the wall next to him, to steady himself from falling, luckily your bed was slightly close to the wall, he would’ve fell and humiliated himself with blood coming out of his nostrils, his body was trembling as he dug his talons through your wall, he swore, when he gets better, he’ll fix everything in your small apartment, but at the moment it’s ether throwing up his insides or fainting from a intense migraine that slowly easing in, but his body already had a mind of his own, his legs that felt like jello, collapsed suddenly, his stomach was itching for him to throw up, he stanched the small trash can next to the bed, then threw up, god why did it felt longer then usual, he clenched his side with his right, and his other hand was holding the trash can, it felt like hours once more from the last time but it was only 10 minutes, he placed the trash can down and unclenched his eyes to see the results…

Blood?!

His body was trembling once more, he saw his vision blurring up with tears, he couldn’t focus on anything but himself… he didn’t hear your rants, when you came walking in, were they rants? because you were suddenly next to him, with panic in your voice, Lyla zipped in again and was analyzing the blood. Even though she was a little glowing blob of light, he noticed the panic in her voice too, it was his blood wasn’t it. I’m going to die, what a asshole of a legend huh…

“Lo siento- Lo— siento… Lo siento…” through sobs I can’t even speak straight, when my hearing was slowly coming back, I heard my sweet Amor…

“Miguel… your going to be ok… Lyla gonna figure it out quicker… ok-“ your voice was trembling, why does it always have to be his fault to make you so scared…

“Voy a morir-“

“No- Miguel everything going to be ok. Don’t say that…” even though you were frantic, you still gave him a kiss on Miguel’s cheek, multiple smooches to be exact, they were soft and loving that was cooling his Terror-stricken thoughts…

“Lo siento…”

“Don’t be… you had a panic attack Amor…” she gave another soft kiss, “want to ease your mind with a bath…”

“Yes… please…” he whispered

—-

The bath was calming his overflowing guilt, but you were there too, massaging his scalp…

his sweet sweet Amor…

“Ok… I’m going to put some more soap in your hair, so it makes you feel more relaxed…”

He saw you move your hands away from him, which gave him longing in his deep velvet eyes, when you got more soap on your hands, you reached over once more, but he softly touched his hands to yours, you gave a cute confused face…

His sweet sweet Amor…

“Miguel… what wrong?” He moved his right hand down your arm to your hip and his left on your left side of your delicate waist… “Mig-?!”

He pulled you gently into the bathtub with him, your black tank top getting soaked with your pajamas shorts, he was wearing just some rubber boxers, but he pulled you close which made your confusion disappear with a fondness that he always craves off you, he gave a soft kiss on your cheek, then your neck…

“I’m sorry…”

He kissed you once more with a sadness with each kiss…

“Miggy…”

He tried to sit himself up a little, but his nose started to bleed again.

“Mig-“

“No. Love…”

He lowered his back back down, and looked at you with that ever so longing of deep sadness, you gave a sad smile, which made him crave you more…

He closed his eyes and sighed, then put his head in the water, and blew all the blood out of his nose, a light crimson flow was in the bottom of the tub…

He suddenly sits up slowly and started kissing your neck and face once more, he doesn’t care if his head is aching, he doesn’t care if his muscles are telling him to relax, he doesn’t care if his thoughts are yelling at him to stop, telling him that he doesn’t deserve you…

“I love you… Amor…” he whispered through each kiss.

You suddenly pulled back, and looked him in the eyes with gentleness, that he desperately needs…

“Miguel… I waited for so long… for you to say those wonderful words~” you softly laughed then softly smiled, “I always craved you, just as much… ever since I was so bold to tell my feelings, that one night…” she got closer to his lips, “your my star… mig…” and kissed him, he deepens the kiss, craving your sweet tongue to lick his fangs, tangle his tongue with yours, his hands were on your hips and he tugged you little closer, his big hands making you shiver because how small you were compared to him, his body was screaming at him to relax; his nose bleeding once more, but you don’t care for a little blood to ruin the moment, neither did he, because he pushed your body against the shower head side of the tiled wall, his moans were so whimpered, it was either the aching pain his body was toiling, or how much he thirst your soft lips on his…

He felt thorns going up his throat, he felt like gagging, it wasn’t you, it was like he was choking, so he let go of you suddenly, for some air, but all that just came out was a coughing fit, he started to panic, so he took his hands off you and moved his right on the side of the tub, and use his left to give some small punches in the middle of his chest.

“Miguel!-“

He couldn’t talk, his eyes were blurring again, dios mio, it felt agonizing, he kept coughing until…

Petals…

Rose petals…

Came out of his mouth, then…

A full rose came out as well, with a full stem on the very end of it still…

The rose had crimson blood dangling on some parts of the rose. The stem was weak, but you can firmly grasp it with three fingers.

You picked it up with ease, analyzing it, and Miguel was eyeing it cautiously, he didn’t notice that his lungs weren’t hurting anymore, because he was taking bigger breaths then usual, you noticed it too… you look up from the rose, then to Miguel, you also notice he straightened up his back more…

“How are you feeling?”

“Not like shit…” he joked

You just laughed, “no- well yes-, but you look better…” you said awkwardly afterwards, “Eres adorable cuando tropiezas con tus propias palabras~”

You had a light blush on your cheeks, but you preceded, “ok… take a big breath.”

He did so. And it surprised both of you, that it didn’t hurt. “Your talons?”

He brought his hands in front of him, and he actually brought them out and in with ease. You found it adorable, he slowly put a gentle smile on his face.

“Try-“

He suddenly stands up, without feeling nauseous or dizzy, he stretched his arms up. Flexed a little, which you lightly giggled, and he sits back down, some water splashed out but never ales, he felt like he was more alive again. Like he was free from any doubts…

You looked back at the rose, “you don’t feel the parasite crawling under your skin, do you?”

“No…” he looked around his body a little. Then looked back at you.

“I think the rose is the parasite.”

“EXACTLY!” Lyla popped up out of no where. Which started you both!

“Lyla…” Miguel groaned

“Hey! It’s not my fault, you two were aggressively making out… didn’t want to interrupt the spice~”

You just laughed, Miguel face started to blush, but settle down, when Lyla spoke up again.

“So…. Apparently you two did the easier way, then the uncomfortable way, that I��m not going to talk about… but yeah! Blah blah blah, love. Blah blah blah parasite turns into the flower that the person loves, and apparently Miguel likes roses, isn’t that adorable~”

You pfft, which made Miguel looked away with embarrassment, “but yeah! I’ll be taking that!” She made little portals and took all the petals and you dropped the bloody rose into one of them. “Thank you!!! Have a cute honeymoon!!!” Lyla made a kiss emoji and lefted…

You looked back Miguel. And brought your hand to his chin, to make him look at you, he proceeded, and you got closer to him…

“My cute little rose boy~”

Which made Miguel blushed even more…

“Oh~ Mi Amor~” and he kissed your soft lips once more…

My sweet sweet Amor~

#miguel o’hara angst #atsv miguel #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader angst #miguel o’hara x reader #Miguel O’Hara x reader angst #atsv lyla #lyla spiderman 2099 #sick Miguel O’Hara #x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse

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furnacerepair7 · 2 days

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superiorheating8 · 3 months

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nico-di-genova · 4 months

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To Be Known, To Be Loved

Summary: Alex is sick, Pato takes care of him. AKA: Palex sickfic

A/N: This originally started as a prompt fill, but then it went off the rails and became its own thing. So the prompt will get filled eventually, but now there is also this. The mortifying ordeal of having to be known to be loved. The horror of having to put your trust in someone in order to let yourself be cared for. Trigger Warning for Emetophobia!

There is vomit on Pato’s shoes, specks of it dotting the toe when he kicks them off at the doorway to his bus. They land on their side, next to Alex’s half-hazardly thrown pair, whose are vomit free because when he’d doubled over behind the truck, after their debrief, it had been Pato who was in the splash zone. He’d just barely managed to step back, and so most of the sick had ended up on the pavement, watery and thin, spreading in a puddle across the cracks in the surface where the weeds had managed to break through. A diet of liquids, that’s what Alex had been operating on apparently, all of it now emptied from his body and left soaking into the track that had delivered him another P4 finish.

How he’d managed to race at all was still beyond Pato. How his entire team had failed to notice the heat roiling off his body, and the glassy-eyed expression he’d worn during the entire debrief meeting was a bigger mystery. Pato had known from the moment he saw the sweat beading on Alex’s forehead, the wince when he tried to talk about the roll bar adjustments they’d made to the car, and his voice came out like it was scraping against rock, physically paining him to speak.

“I’m not sick,” he’d grumbled in annoyance when Pato pressed a hand to his forehead and was met with furnace levels of heat, and then he’d barely made it two steps away from the truck before he lost the little bit of water he’d managed to sip down during the debrief.

Pato had kept a hand on the small of his back, rubbing soothing circles as Alex retched, feeling his body tremble and shake. Thankfully they’d waited inside the truck long enough, Alex insisting he felt fine even though he hadn’t had the energy to pull himself out of where he’d slumped in his chair. There was no one to see him lose the battle with his upset stomach. Pato is sure Alex would have been ten times more mortified if there was anyone else there, he already can’t look at Pato now.

“I’m sorry,” he says, swaying on his feet and leaning against the dining table behind him for support, instead of Pato’s outstretched hand. “About your shoes.”

Pato waves dismissively at the footwear, “Eh, whatever. They weren’t my favorite pair.”

They were, but the vomit can be wiped away, and he doesn’t really care about the cost to replace them if it doesn’t right now. He’s more focused on how Alex is shaking again, all of his energy focused on keeping himself upright, despite the fact that he’s leaning heavily on the table. His skin is pale, other than the red flush on his cheeks, the same flush that had indicated to Pato there was a problem when he first sat down for their meeting. It could have been blamed on the race, the heat of the car, but even as they sat in the airconditioned truck it hadn’t faded. Now it’s impossible to miss.

“Alex-“ he tries, starts to reach out.

“I just- I just need sleep,” Alex waves him off, “’m tired.”

He takes one step away from the table, starting for the bedroom at the back of the bus, before his knees give out. Pato is anticipating it, the way he tips and loses his balance, and so he manages to dart forward quickly enough and steady Alex with one hand on his chest, the other on his hip. He stumbles under Alex’s weight, bangs into the kitchen counter hard enough that he’s sure he’ll be sporting a bruise along his side – he and Alex matching, since Alex took a hit from Ferrucci in turn 3 earlier and has his own budding collection of darkening skin to show for it.

“I got you,” he promises when Alex tries to take another step, finds his knees too weak to do so.

“Fuck.” Alex states in response.

It’s a process to get him stripped out of his clothes and to ease him into bed. Alex on a good day is unwilling to accept help, self-reliant to a fault, but a sick Rossi is a whole other beast. Pato thought the time he’d had to nurse a hungover Alex back to health was bad, when he was hiding under the covers in their hotel room in Mexico because the light hurt his eyes. He rethinks that now. At least then they’d had the crashing waves on the beach and room service to provide some modicum of comfort. And when Pato had traced the bare skin of Alex’s shoulder with his finger, kissing at the back of his sun warmed neck, Alex hadn’t minded the touch – had leaned into it even, because it was a welcome distraction from the pounding of his head.

Now, it’s dark and it’s cold because Alex keeps the bus at an inhuman temperature. When Pato tries to ease Alex out of his hoodie that’s got vomit crusted on the sleeve from where he’d wiped at his mouth, Alex whines and pulls away like the touch hurts him.

“We have to cool you down, babe,” Pato tries, “you’re really warm.”

An understatement, the heat roiling off his skin may as well be visible, coming off of him in waves.

“I’m already cold,” Alex argues, which is another sign everything is wrong. Alex has highjacked Pato’s thermostat, hacked it, so that it can be set to ungodly levels of cold, because he doesn’t like to be warm. He doesn’t like to feel his clothes stick to him with sweat, as the hoodie is so clearly doing, soaked through under the arms and on the back when Alex curls over where he’s sitting on the bed to put his head between his knees and Pato can see the darkened fabric.

Pato reaches for the hem of the hoodie at the small of his back, peels it upward so it’s pooled around his neck. Alex whines again as the cool air hits his skin, but doesn’t pull away, maybe because he’s lost the strength.

“Come on, Alex, work with me here,” Pato pleads.

He manages to work the hoodie over Alex’s head, and then down his arms. It ends up on a puddle at the foot of the bed, along with Alex’s socks and then his race suit. A normal Alex would be peeved by this, make an offhand comment about the laundry basket two feet away from them, nestled beneath the clothes hanging in the closet. A sick Alex doesn’t even seem to notice, just shivers when he’s stripped down to his underwear.

In the lamplight coming from the built-ins along the wall, Pato can see the bruising already forming along Alex’s left side. Splotches of purple along his ribs and down to his thigh. It’s not the worst Pato’s seen on him, minimal and not nearly as dark as it seems in the dim lighting, but it isn’t fun to look at. Not when Alex is breathing so heavily his chest expands with the effort, his ribs visible beneath the bruising.

“You’re going to make yourself dizzy like that,” Pato says, eases him up with a gentle hand on his shoulder so his head isn’t between his knees anymore. Alex goes, lets himself be lifted and then eased back on the bed.

Before leaving this morning, Alex had insisted on making it. Pato, one shoe half-on, already preparing to dart out to the track, had been ready to leave it as it was. Pillows askew, sheets rumpled, and half balled up at the end of the bed. He wasn’t the sort to wake up in the morning and immediately begin to assemble his life, not before he’d gone for a run or had breakfast. Alex, he has learned in the short six month span of their relationship, is the opposite. He wakes up and gathers himself slowly, makes the bed because he hates coming home to an unmade one. If he’d moved slower that morning, tucking the duvet in between the mattress and the box spring with careful movements because his body was beginning to ache with the sickness that had now set in, he was better at hiding it then.

He gets a better look at the bruises once Alex is laying on his back. They’re really not bad, but he can’t help but wonder if Alex had felt like this when he was driving. Eyes watery and body shuddering, hands trembling when he pulls at the duvet he’s tucked in too tightly. He wonders if he’d been alert he maybe might have been able to avoided the contact altogether.

“Here,” he says instead of continuing to think about Alex sick and borderline delirious in his car going 200+ mph, “Let me do it.”

“I’m not useless,” Alex grumbles.

He stalls the man’s fruitless pulling of the duvet with a hand over his. “No. But you’re sick, so let me take care of you. Okay?”

It may be that Alex is foreign with the concept, because he continues to try to pull the blanket free so he can tuck himself under it. Or it may be that the fever has him acting with single minded purpose.

“Rossi.”

“What?”

“Stop.”

Alex stops. He pulls his hand back so Pato can take over, and shivers on the bed until Pato gets him under the blankets. Then he curls onto his side and shakes until Pato crawls under the covers beside him.

“Gonna get you sick,” he mumbles.

Pato shrugs, presses himself along Alex’s back and pulls the man closer to him, letting Alex leech away some of his warmth to maybe help with the chills. He’ll get another blanket for him later, press a cool towel to his forehead and hope it breaks the fever. Right now though he just wants to hold him. He wants to feel the way Alex grabs at his arm when he wraps his arm around him. His hand gripping at Pato’s wrist with a desperate need, like if Pato holds him close enough it will maybe help him feel better.

This morning the roles had been reversed, Pato tucked into Alex’s arms and waking up to find he wished he could stay there. It wasn’t the first time he’d yearned for a place to stay. There was Punta Mita, with the Airbnb he was fond of booking. Texas, where everything was familiar. Indiana even, in the small bits of time he and Alex got to spend there, appreciating the sprawling space of Alex’s house before they had to pack their lives back up into suitcases again. He wonders if maybe this is the travel catching up, the late nights and stress of the championship, all of it building on Alex and taking its toll physically. Or maybe it’s just that he’s caught whatever bug has been floating around the bus lot.

Whatever it is, Pato takes the gamble of catching it. He holds Alex tighter and kisses at the nape of his neck and thinks of Mexico. Sunkissed skin that smelled faintly of aloe-vera and waves crashing on the shore, how Alex had laughed when he was drunk. How his cheeks had flushed pink, not from fever, but from the alcohol. How they’d chased each other along the shoreline, knowing that when they did eventually collide they’d both end up toppling into the water.

How Alex had looked in the moonlight, eyes glinting, shirt soaked through by the waves he’d ended up in first.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay,” he’d warned, seconds before lurching forward and grabbing Pato to pull him into the ocean beside him.

When they’d kissed it had tasted like salt and the Coors Alex had imbibed in heavily at the bar. Pato chased the taste of it, tried to commit it to memory, alongside the feel of Alex’s hand in his hair when he pulled it to tip his head slightly. Their first kiss, messy and uncoordinated and then broken by the waves that crashed against them.

When morning had come Pato had woken to Alex in his arms and sunlight piercing at the headache he was nursing. Alex, who had drank more, had buried his head into the blankets with a groan. The same way he did now. Except now Pato knows the feeling of kissing him sober, knows the feel of Alex’s hand in his hair when he’s not pulling it. He knows Alex likes to make the bed in the morning and will do so even if he’s fighting his own body. Knows he would drive a car in oppressive heat, despite the fever spiking his own temperature.

He knows Alex doesn’t like to be taken care of, but that he’s letting Pato take care of him anyway.

Alex shudders in his arms, and Pato holds him, kisses the nape of his neck and tells him, “I’ve got you.” He finds he means it, fully, finds he can think of home now and it comes in the shape of Alex - familiar, safe, shaking in his arms with a fever he is trying to beat.

“I got you,” he repeats, as Alex presses closer - as he does not pull away.

#ramblings at 2 a.m. and such #meant to write this earlier when it could be cohesive but instead I am going with this #I just think Alex trusting himself to Pato would be a whole thing #(honestly more than this fic goes into)#(this is just the touching upon it)#but point is #Pato knows him intrinsically #scary thought for an introvert who does not wish to be percieved #palex #palex fic #my fic #alexander rossi #pato o'ward #also this is negative research ambiguous sickness #don't expect WebMD over here

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