#yandere spider man across the spider verse

[dearest-painter]

Oooo Yandere platonic Batfam x neglected and abused batsib reader with spider powers x Yandere platonic Miguel, Jess, Peter B and spider-society!?! Reader finally done with the abuse runs away and gets found by Miguel all beaten and bruised and takes them in and him and the others raise them? (Batsib is 12 at this point when Miguel takes them in). Years later Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian find reader with Gwen, Miles and Hobie fighting an anomaly when things get out of hand and Reader calls Miguel, Jess and Peter B for back up!?! Oh the chaos!!

Yeah, they call Miguel dad when they become 14. Miguel is so happy to be called dad, Lyla is Titi Lyla, Jessica is Auntie Jess, and Peter B is Uncle Pet. When the batfam sees Spider-Bat!Reader(aka abused and neglected reader bc it helps sort my stuff) fighting with three other teenagers they feel so happy to see them…until Bruce hears “TITI LYLA! PLEASE GET DAD AND THE OTHERS! SHITS GOING SOUTH!” You..replaced him…Jason is happy you replaced him as your in a good happy family. He knows he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness as he didn’t help you but it’s good to see you happy.

Soon Miguel and Jessica and Peter B arrive, they help you all out. Once it’s done you see your family…bio family, you grabbed Miguel’s hand scared, your supposed to be tough but seeing your bio family scares you. Miguel saw your family and immediately hands you to Jessica so she can calm you down. Bruce and Miguel get into a screaming match, your Bio brothers are blocked by Gwen, Hobie, and Miles as they know all about your history with them. Only Alfred is allowed to see yoy. Bruce wants you back but Miguel is plotting to murder him.

[lwolfcat429]

when miles goes to the spiderman society he sees a variant of his dead cousin *y/n*, they do grew close and she does help him escape but she never wants to go to his universe because she already has him in her universe.

But at last minute, Miles forces her to join him back to his universe

But! It's not his universe it's earths 42 universe, where she is also dead, where earth 42 starts becoming platonic yandere, 42 Aaron is both hurt and relieved to see his daughter again but he knows it's not her, he just doesn't want to let go again. 42 Miles is the same,

42 Miles and his cousin were close, like people thought they were crazy weird close But Miles was the obsessed one. Then she died in a car accident.... Seeing his dead cousin alive *but from another universe* gave him back hope that maybe he could be happy again, he was also hurt because he knows this new cousin will never be like the old cousin but like his uncle, he doesn't want to let go again

So 42 miles is fighting earth Earth-1610 miles to keep her

[soullessdianthus]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚

Warnings: yandere themes (manipulation, kidnapping, imprisonment), smut (overstimulation, dubcon/noncon, breeding kink if you want to interpret like so)

Word count: 1.6k

A sound of pouring rain tapping over the window kept you awake. You glanced over the glass and saw the same image as for the days before - dense, forest line cutting the grassy, wild meadow off. The temperature inside and out was warm and it almost felt like summer in the countryside of your homeland. But it was all an illusion.

A high-tech screens had been put inside the window frames to imitate your well known surroundings. He put an effort to make this place look like a decent place. Somewhere you would feel comfortable. But this wasn’t even a real home, it was your prison. 

After you interfered a little too much with the canon events in one of the spider-verses, Miguel O’Hara visited your world in person. He demanded an explanations from Peter Parker, a friend from college, about your doings. 

Because you two learned lately about the up-coming death of uncle Ben and tried to avoid it by all means. And you almost succeed. Almost.

Miguel, a tall man with a dark look on his face, threatened Peter about the consequences of avoiding such occurrences. Parker appeared to be frightened of the stranger as Miguel’s eyes seemed to glow brightly red from frustration. 

Those piercing eyes finally found your form, standing still behind your Spiderman and only then you processed what you just heard. 

━ Wh-What? It was OUR idea to save your uncle! ━ You interrupted those two men, gesturing with your hands. But Peter didn’t even bother to look at you, he didn’t have enough courage to do so. He tried to frame you and put all the guilt on you. Which in the end, somehow worked out. 

He agreed to that mysterious spidey-guy from another universe that someone had to bear the consequences of messing up with the timeline. And Parker pointed at you. An ultimate betrayal, ripped your heart apart. 

Soon after you found yourself in that damn prison with a bracelet over your wrist to “stop you from glitching”. Whatever that was supposed to mean. 

Miguel was some kind of boss around the place you found yourself in. At least that's what Lyla told you, a artificial intelligence present in the technology around you. It was him who was responsible for you from now on as he visited you every day. 

At first, each time you saw him, you tried throwing things at him purely out of rage - a book, a small picture frame or a chair, but each time he managed to catch or turn down anything you tossed. He kept trying to explain to you what was happening and why he couldn’t let you go back into your world. Miguel stated that it was dangerous enough when a non-variant person was messing up with the timeline. 

But was this all true? There was no one else you could ask for a second opinion, you had to believe, everything Miguel told you was the truth. Obviously, you questioned everything about him and this place. It felt like you were losing your sanity and a part of yourself. 

The well-built man with brown, combed hair was very patient and understable with your rage and sorrow. Until he was not. 

O’Hara had enough of your tantrums and one time he scared you truly. Eyes turning bloody red, his veins popping out and his teeth turning into long fangs. He charged at you, shoving your whole body to the wall behind. When your eyes were filled with fear and lungs emptied themself due to the force he pushed you, Miguel contained himself and moved away quickly. 

You rarely saw him in this form, but when you finally did - you kept behaving well, not wanting to anger him again. Because you knew nothing about him. What if he was able to hurt you? Or even murder you? 

Since then, you tried to suppress any anger and try to figure out how to return to your world, your life. And the brunette kept coming back, each day just to visit you. In the end he was your only company. 

Miguel brought you new books or art supplies if you asked Lyla or him directly. The man would spend some time with you - cooking, watching movies, anything you liked to do. But it was months ago. 

For the last couple of weeks, you were practically silent and apathetic. Curling inside the armchair near the “window”, napping or sobbing quietly. You’ve been in this prison for too long and it began to crush your spirit. 

He acknowledged the change in you and tried talking about it. He kept assuring that he has to keep you here for the world’s sake and balance. Because if someone messes up with the canon again, the universe will collapse. You reprimanded yourself for leaning into his chest when he offered you a comforting hug. Because how could you ever want solace from your captor? 

That evening was no different. Miguel visited you after work and found you sitting in silence on that damn armchair. When he crouched down, trying to catch your sight, you scooted backwards in the seat. 

━ What’s wrong, cariño?

━ I want to go home. ━ Your voice full with sorrow gained his attention. Where was your spirit he adored so much? The pain in your voice almost made him feel bad. Almost.

Miguel reached towards your exposed calf and started rubbing it with his pointing finger. 

━ This is your home, tú lo sabes. [sp.: you know it] ━ His voice sounded peaceful when he reached both of his arms in your direction. His embrace was welcoming, but you knew better. It was like a sweet flavored poison, spreading slowly under your skin, killing you slowly. ━ Come here.

You pushed firmly against his shoulders as you jumped out of the chair and took a few steps back. 

━ Miguel ━ you said his name loudly, gaining his full attention. You were being hysterical again. ━ I’ve been here FOR MONTHS. I had life before, I had A PURPOSE. You took it from me!

He tried, he really tried holding himself back this time you talked back. But your whining became annoying and Miguel just knew what would make you feel better. 

He stood up to his full height, easily towering over you. Brunette came closer, taking each step slowly, like he was giving you time to calm yourself or at least apologize. But you didn’t even back out. 

Miguel was leaning to look into your glimmering eyes and he saw how much you hated him at that moment. “We need to work on that temper”, he once told you, but you thought nothing of it. 

His little, feisty nymph. That’s what he liked to think of you. 

━ Fine ━ he growled right in your face, before grabbing your arm. ━ I’ll give you a purpose. 

The sound of your heavy panting echoed through the room. You tried straightening your hands again, but unsuccessfully as your muscles gave up a long time ago. Only his strong hands kept your ass higher than your head, by the tightening grip over your already bruised hips. 

Miguel kept thrusting into your tight cunt until you were a sobbing mess. He already pushed you over the edge at least three times, devouring the little noises you made and how your pussy clenched around his swollen shaft. 

Brunette kept one of his palms spread between your shoulder blades, keeping your upper half down, making your spine arch better. 

The sweat covered the back of your bent knees, him sliding in and out of you with ease, because of your wetness. Miguel certainly knew where to touch you to make you break into pieces between his fingers. 

━ See, doesn't that feel good to be by my side, cariño? ━ He leaned over your puffing frame, cheek dipped in the sheets while he kept fucking you stupid. 

━ Mig-Miguel… I can’t… n-no more…. ━ You whispered to him, feeling as each thrust of his hips pushed his cock deeper inside of you. The coiling sensation started to build up again between your trembling legs and in stomach. ━ Please!

━ Just one more, darling. ━ He heard you clearly, but yet he kept sliding in and out of you violently, chasing his own sweet release. 

Miguel took his hand away from your back and sneaked between your puffy lips. He spreaded them, opening you up and making it easier for him to find your clit. And when he finally did so, the brunette started rubbing it in a rhythm that quickly made you reach your another orgasm that night. 

Your body tensed suddenly and then collapsed into his pelvis, sinking his swollen cock deeper. When your cunt fluttered around him uncontrollably and your eyes rolled backwards, he came inside you, clenching his teeth. 

He tilted forward and placed both of his strong hands on each side of you, while coming down from his high. He noticed your grip tightening over bed sheets and smiled, before giving you a tender kiss on the temple. 

━ Mi pequeña ninfa. Do you understand now, that only I can protect you? [sp.: My little nymph]

Miguel loved his girl no matter if she had a bad day or not. He was going to make sure, no one will ever take you from him. You’re his precious troublemaker, aren’t you?

━ You belong with me. ━ He growled into your ear.

[kinkandkreep]

♡︎ 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎!𝙼𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝙾'𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

♡︎ 𝙲𝚆: 𝙺𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜)

♡︎ "__" 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎

♡︎ 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 2 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎

Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ ɪs ᴘᴏssᴇssɪᴠᴇ, sʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ sᴀᴅɪsᴛɪᴄ, ᴅᴇʟᴜsɪᴏɴᴀʟ (ᴜɴsᴛᴀʙʟᴇ) ᴀɴᴅ, ᴀs I ᴘᴏʀᴛʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ, ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴡʜᴇʟᴍɪɴɢ ᴍɪx ᴏғ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ, sᴜʙᴍɪssɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇʟɪᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪɴɢ

Tᴏ sᴜᴍ ᴜᴘ, ᴀs ᴀ Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴡᴀɴᴛs ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴀɴᴅ ɪs sᴏ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴏᴡɴ ᴅᴇʟᴜsɪᴏɴs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ

Hᴇ ᴀᴅᴍɪᴛᴛᴇᴅʟʏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴜʀᴇ ɪɴ ʜᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʜʏsɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ, ᴡʜᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙʟᴜɴᴛ ɴᴀɪʟs ᴅɪɢɢɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ sɪᴅᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪɢʜs ᴏʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴛɪɢʜᴛ ɢʀɪᴘs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴀʙʟᴇ ʙʀᴜɪsɪɴɢ

Hᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴅᴏᴇs ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ/sᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ, ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴀ ʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴅᴇsɪʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ sᴏ, ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴀʟᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀs ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴇʀᴘᴇᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ʙᴏɴᴇs ᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏʀᴛ

As ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴀɪᴛs, Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇʟᴜsɪᴏɴᴀʟ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ’s sᴛɪʟʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ᴜᴛɪʟɪᴢᴇ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴀᴄᴛɪᴄs ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ʜɪs ᴡᴀʏ

Hᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ, ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏɴsᴛɪᴛᴜᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴀʏ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʙᴇ sᴜᴄᴄᴇssғᴜʟ ɪɴ ᴄᴀᴜsɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴠᴇʟᴏᴘ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ Sᴛᴏᴄᴋʜᴏʟᴍ Sʏɴᴅʀᴏᴍᴇ

Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ, ᴡʜᴇᴛʜᴇʀ Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛ, ɪs ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄɪɴɢ sᴘᴇᴀᴋᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇsᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ sᴏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ʜɪs ᴡᴀʏ

Hᴇ’s ᴀʟsᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏғ (ᴘᴇʀᴍᴀɴᴇɴᴛʟʏ) ʀɪᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏғ ᴀɴʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴏᴘᴘᴏsᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ “ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ” ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ ʜɪs ʟᴏᴠᴇ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ

Yᴇs, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs

Dᴇsᴘɪᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ, Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ᴅᴏᴇs ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ, ɪɴ ғᴀᴄᴛ, ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʜᴇ’s ᴅᴇʟᴜsɪᴏɴᴀʟ, ʜᴇ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴅᴏ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇs ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ɪs ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴘᴀʀ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ ᴏғ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇɢʀᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇs ʏᴏu

Hᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ sᴜʙᴍɪssɪᴠᴇ, ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇɴsᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ’ʟʟ ᴅᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪғ ɪᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴs ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

Being in a relationship with Miguel is…blissful. 

Or, it was anyway. 

It was, until he started showing Signs™.

At first, you just assumed that as he naturally became more comfortable in the relationship, he also naturally became a little more possessive and handsy. 

Initially, you didn’t have a problem with it, seeing as it wasn’t so severe and so noticeable. You actually thought it was cute, if not a little silly. 

…….

But then, it started to get worse.

You’d told Miguel towards the beginning of your relationship that you wanted to take things slow, and pace yourself. He seemed understanding at the time, if not a little bit agitated. That struck you as odd, but he quickly recovered and even agreed, so you overlooked it for the time being. 

After some time though, he started trying to speed things along, going against what you’d initially agreed upon. 

He started talking of moving in together and getting married, neither of which were things you were necessarily opposed to, but just not so soon.

When you tried to explain this to Miguel, he seemed agitated again, trying, and ultimately failing, to get you to agree to his new terms. 

You did still love him, and wanted to make things work however, so you decided to compromise and start spending some nights over at his place. This seemed to sate him for the time being, and he treated you very well, so you saw no harm in it.

That is until he started not wanting to let you leave. 

At first, he would gently convince you to extend your stays from a night or two, to three and four at a time. 

That would’ve been fine, had you not needed to work.

When you brought this up to him, he frowned, jokingly saying that you should quit because, since you belonged to him, he was more than capable of taking care of you. 

At least, you thought he was joking.

You of course knew that Miguel was very well-off, and absolutely could provide all your wants and needs. 

But you thought it dangerous to be entirely dependent on someone else for your livelihood, and thus declined, laughing awkwardly. 

Miguel? He wasn’t laughing. 

“You should really consider my words, cariño.” He’d spoken with an odd tone, expression unnervingly flat. 

You nodded, even while knowing you wouldn’t be quitting in the foreseeable future. 

Not voluntarily anyway. 

After that encounter, things seemed to return to some semblance of normalcy. You were still spending an increasing amount of time at Miguel’s, but otherwise you went to work and went on dates with Miguel and everything was fine. 

Then the gifting started. 

Miguel began to lavish you in ridiculously expensive presents, things that were beautiful, but that you personally had no need or desire for. 

“Gigi, this is simply too much,” you’d told him once, after he’d presented to you a diamond and sapphire necklace engraved with his initials that, had you known the price of, you were sure would have made you gag. 

“Nonsense,” he’d said, holding your gaze with an intense one of his own. “Only the best for mi reina.”

With Miguel’s insistence and little other option, you allowed him to put the necklace on you, missing his satisfied little smirk.

You weren’t aware of it at the time, but the necklace was just one of the ways Miguel intended to mark you as his. 

The gift giving continued, and for a moment, you considered that one of Miguel’s love languages was giving/receiving gifts. You weren’t exactly wrong, nor were you too alarmed about the gifts after a while of receiving them.

That was until the nature of the gifts turned a little…odd. 

Miguel began gifting you what were damn near collars instead of simple necklaces, starting with a few that were dainty and lowkey enough to where you wouldn’t get questions about them when wearing them in public, to some that were downright gaudy, large and heavy against your throat. 

Each one had his name or initials somewhere on it, and Miguel seemed to adore seeing you with one on. 

He also eventually gifted you a new cell. 

Which again struck you as odd because you had no need for a new one. 

You knew it would do you no good to try and refuse, as Miguel could be very persistent and persuasive when he wanted to be. 

So, somewhat begrudgingly, you accepted the phone, not thinking too much of it beyond that. 

That changed when one night, as you were scrolling through it and trying to figure out the settings, you noticed that the location feature had been turned on. You turned it off, as you did with all your phones and carried on, this time scrolling through the pre-installed apps and deleting or deactivating the ones you knew you wouldn’t need. 

That was all well and good, and you fiddled around more with the phone until you encountered something that made you sit upright in bed, staring at your new device with pinched brows. 

There was a hidden tracking app embedded deep into the phone's software, and no matter what you tried, you couldn’t delete it or deactivate it. 

Huffing in annoyance, you clicked on the app, only to find that there was a blinking red dot settled right over your current location. 

‘But I thought I turned my location off?’

You went and double checked the settings and sure enough, the location feature was still off. 

You sat perturbed for a minute, before remembering who exactly had given you the phone. 

‘Gigi…’

The next day you stomped up to his apartment door, banging on it obnoxiously. 

The door swung open easily and there stood Miguel, almost as if he had been expecting you. 

“Mi reina, is something the ma-...”

Disregarding Miguel’s words, you pushed past him into the apartment, turning to face him as he closed the door. 

“Why is there some weird tracking app on my phone Miguel?”

Miguel frowned, displeased with your use of his given name instead of the nickname you’d given him. 

“What do you-”

“You know exactly what I mean Miguel. You’re a genius with a ridiculous number of resources at your disposal. I’m sure you were well aware that this phone had a tracking feature and I’m also becoming increasingly sure that you are the one who put it there. Now tell me, why do you feel the need to cross that boundary and track me like I’m your teenage daughter instead of your girlfriend and a grown woman with her own faculties?”

Unbeknownst to you, hearing you talking in such a manner was causing Miguel to become increasingly aroused. He knew that now was a bad time though, as you seemed genuinely upset and probably wouldn’t appreciate having the (non)issue blown off by his horny machinations. 

Instead he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You weren’t supposed to find that.”

You scoffed, eyes and mouth opened wide in shock. “So I was right! You gave me a bugged phone to what? Spy on me? Like some sort of creep?”

“It is not creepy.” Miguel spoke firmly, frown deepening. “It’s only there so that I am always aware of your location. And that in the event something happens I can locate you and keep you out of harm’s way.”

“You may dress it up so that it sounds noble Miguel, but that still doesn’t excuse the fact that you put a tracker in my phone without consulting me first. That’s, again, a boundary crossed. And it’s not ok.”

Now, Miguel was becoming angry, and you could see the emotion swirling in his crimson irises. 

He understood your frustration, to a degree. 

Yes, he had put the tracker on your phone without telling you but it was only so that you wouldn’t be alarmed. And besides, the tracker was there for your benefit and right now, you were being so ungrateful. 

Miguel felt unhappy that you were upset with him, and also mad, because you didn’t appreciate him in his effort to keep you safe. 

“I did that for your benefit, __. Why can’t you just be grateful?”

“Grateful that my boyfriend doesn’t trust me to be able to handle myself and grateful that he crosses my boundaries? Yeah, right. Whatever.” 

You intended to brush past him, but nearly dropped the phone when Miguel tightly grabbed your wrist. As you turned to face him, you could see the red of his glare becoming more intense, and he was breathing a little heavier than before. 

“You will not just come into my home and be ungrateful and disrespectful, then just leave. I believe you owe me an apology.” 

You were too stunned to speak. You’d never seen Miguel this angry and you could feel fear creeping up your spine. 

You winced as his grip on your wrist tightened when you didn’t respond, and you were sure that it would bruise after. 

“Let me go Miguel!”

“Not until you apologize.” He hissed out the words, still maintaining that deadly eye contact.

Becoming genuinely afraid that he would shatter your wrist, you stuttered out a quick apology, trying and failing to yank your arm from Miguel’s grasp. 

“Say it like you mean it. What do you have to be sorry for?”

You struggled a bit longer before finally conceding when his grip became more painful. 

“F-fine! I-...I’m sorry that I disrespected you, and I’m sorry for being ungrateful.”

And just like that, Miguel’s entire demeanor changed. 

He smiled, releasing your wrist and opening his arms for a hug. 

“See cariño? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

As he took a step forward, you quickly turned, rushing out of the front door and ignoring Miguel’s yells for you to stop. 

You continued to ignore Miguel for a few days after that. 

You’d intentionally left the bugged phone at his apartment, and since you’d done that, he instead resorted to blowing up your old phone with calls, messages and voicemails. 

They’d been incessant over the days you spent apart from him, and you left everything unread and unlistened to. 

Deciding to try and take your mind off your relationship troubles, you called up some of your best girl friends and favorite female cousin and asked if they wanted to meet up. 

Everyone enthusiastically agreed and you all gathered for brunch, where you discussed the issues you’d been having with Miguel.

“__, it sounds like this behavior has become serious. He gripped your wrist so tight it bruised! And you say he’s been calling and texting you nonstop over the past few days? None of that is normal, healthy behavior.” Your cousin spoke with authority, watching you with a very concerned expression. 

Your friends readily agreed, and you couldn’t help but feel they were right. 

You and Miguel had been together now for almost a year, and you could recall towards the beginning of your relationship how sweet and kind, albeit a little awkward, he’d been.

Now, he was morphing into a possessive monster in front of your very eyes. 

After brunch and bidding your girls goodbye, you made your way back to your apartment, mind so occupied that you didn’t even notice you were being tailed from up above. 

When you got home, you sighed, putting away your coat and purse and preparing to unwind for the day. You hadn’t paid attention to the fact that you hadn’t received a single call or message from Miguel while you were at brunch. 

Feeling a little tired, you stripped down and hopped into the shower, contemplating your cousin’s words from earlier.

‘She’s right,’ you eventually decided. ‘I hate to say it, but I think it’s time Miguel and I call it quits. He’s become so…different, and it is not a good different.’

Sighing, you finished up your shower, wrapping yourself in a towel and exiting the bathroom. 

Only to scream upon seeing Miguel, shrouded in shadow, standing at his full height in your bedroom. 

His eyes seemed to glow in the dark, his red irises burning with unbridled rage.

“Did you have fun, muñeca? Talking shit about me with your little friends?”

You couldn’t move, so afraid you were of what he might do if you did. 

“M-Miguel, I-...why…h-how-...”

You paused as Miguel began walking closer to you, and with each step he took forward, you took a step back. 

“Imagine how hurt I was, to hear my name be slandered, to be called a monster, and to see you sit there and not defend me?! You’ve been ignoring me for 3 days, __. You refused to answer or return a single one of my calls or messages. What if I had needed you, huh? Are you really that much of a heartless bitch?” He spit the last word, now quickly advancing towards you.

Risking it to turn for just a moment, you bolted out of your room and into the kitchen, scrambling for a knife before screaming again when Miguel wrapped both arms around you, grunting as you struggled and flailed. 

You kept this up for a moment longer before yelling in pain as Miguel sank his fangs into your shoulder, releasing a small dose of the paralytic toxin he produced into your bloodstream. 

It only took a second to take effect, and soon you were limp in his arms. 

“I really didn’t want to have to do that, __, but you left me no choice.” He laid you down on the couch, and you could only watch as he began pacing back and forth. 

‘��Why did you make me do that __?! Aye coño, I had planned to be civil about this.”

He paced more, mumbling to himself as he did. Eventually, he stopped suddenly, kneeling before you and cupping your face as he spoke. 

“I love you so much __. I would do anything for you and you hurt me like this? No���NO! This isn’t you. It’s them. They got into your head and turned you against me. Everything I do is because I love you. And they would have you convinced that I’m a threat.” Miguel's expression darkened scarily. 

“I’ll show them what a true threat looks like.”

Your eyes widened, as much as they could anyway, at Miguel’s words. 

He wouldn’t actually hurt your friends…would he?

You didn’t get much longer to think on it, as Miguel quickly lifted you off of the couch. 

“We’re going home, __. I’m sorry to say, but you can’t be trusted on your own, away from me. I have to keep you safe, keep you away from those who would try to taint our love.”

With that said, and with little other option, you felt a tear trickle down your cheek as Miguel carries you out of the door to your apartment, and away from life as you previously knew it. 

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

Aғᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴇsᴄᴀʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ, Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴅᴏᴇs ɪɴᴅᴇᴇᴅ sᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ғʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs, ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʟᴅ ʜᴏᴍᴇ, ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ɴᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍᴀɴᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴘᴇɴᴛʜᴏᴜsᴇ

Iɴɪᴛɪᴀʟʟʏ, ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ’ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴʏɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ

Iғ ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ ᴡʜʏ, ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ sᴛʀᴇss ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴛʀᴜsᴛᴇᴅ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴇᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ ɪғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ

Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛʏᴘᴇ, Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴀʙsᴏʟᴜᴛᴇʟʏ ғɪɢʜᴛ ғɪʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ғɪʀᴇ

As ᴅᴇʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ ᴀs ʜᴇ ɪs, ʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴋs ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴏʙsᴛɪɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ sʜʏɴᴇss 

Nᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴀsɪɴɢʟʏ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴛ, sᴜᴘᴇʀᴘᴏᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ʙᴏʏғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴡʜᴏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀʀᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ʜᴀs ɴᴏᴡ ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ɪs, ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇʟʏ, ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴏsᴛᴀɢᴇ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ 🙃

Iғ ʏᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ, ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴠᴇʜᴇᴍᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴅᴇɴʏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏ

Hᴇ’s ɴᴏᴛ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴛ, ᴊᴜsᴛ ғɪʀᴍ

Hᴇ’s sᴜᴘᴇʀᴘᴏᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ʏᴇs, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀʀᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴɴᴇᴄᴇssᴀʀɪʟʏ 

Hᴇ’s ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀs ᴀʀʙɪᴛʀᴀʀʏ ᴀs ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ “ʙᴏʏғʀɪᴇɴᴅ”, ʜᴇ’s ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜɪs ᴡɪғᴇ

Yᴇᴀʜ, ʜᴇ sᴏʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴀɪᴅ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀʀᴍ ᴛʜᴇᴍ (ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜsʟʏ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ʜᴇᴀᴠɪʟʏ ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ)

Aɴᴅ ʜᴇ’s ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ “ʜᴏsᴛᴀɢᴇ,” ʜᴇ’s ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ sᴀғᴇ

Aʟʟ ᴏғ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍs ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴏᴜsʟʏ ʀᴇғᴜᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍs Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴏᴜsʟʏ ʀᴇᴀғғɪʀᴍ

Sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʜʏsɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ғɪɢʜᴛ Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ, ʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴇsɪᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ

Iᴛ sᴏʀᴛ ᴏғ ɢɪᴠᴇs ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴ ᴇxᴄᴜsᴇ- ᴀ, ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀsᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴍɪɴᴅ, ᴠᴀʟɪᴅ ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʀᴜɪsᴇᴅ

Nᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴇɴsᴇʟᴇssʟʏ ʙᴇᴀᴛ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ!

Hᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇs ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇɴ

Hᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴅᴏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ sᴏ ɴᴇᴇᴅʟᴇssʟʏ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ

Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴋ ᴛʏᴘᴇ, ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴡɪʟʟ ғᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ

Hᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ sᴏ ᴅᴏᴄɪʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɢʀᴇᴇᴀʙʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ, ʜᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴛʜɪs ᴀs ᴀ sɪɢɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʜᴇ “ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇsᴄᴜᴇ”

As ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀs ɪᴛ ᴘᴀɪɴs ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴀʏ, ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴇɴᴅ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ, ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴘʜʏsɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴘᴀɪɴғᴜʟ ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇsᴛ ʙᴇᴛ ɪs ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴋ ʀᴏʟᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ʜɪs ᴛʀᴜsᴛ, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴡᴏɴ’ᴛ ɴᴇᴄᴇssᴀʀɪʟʏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇsᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴘᴏʀᴛᴜɴɪᴛʏ, sᴇᴇᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ Sᴘɪᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀɪᴅᴇ

Mɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴡᴏɴ’ᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ᴀɢʀᴇᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ, sᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴀɴɪᴛʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴏᴘᴇғᴜʟʟʏ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ɪɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ 

Pʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴋ ʀᴏʟᴇ ᴀʟsᴏ ᴍᴇᴀɴs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴄᴀɴ ɢᴏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ғɪʀsᴛ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

Buy me a Kofi?

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

■□▪︎The Viewer, The Liar▪︎■□

{Yandere Miguel O'hara/Reader}

《When self-awareness becomes self-loathing.》

-

The Spider-Man of 2099 didn't expect to see.. Well. You appear in the monitor. An attractive human sitting on a simple couch reading through a comic book.

What world was this?

It was different than the worlds he had traveled to, the people from those worlds.

Comparing it to you, it didn't feel right.

So he watched you, saving your current coordinates on one of the monitors as he focused back on his work.

Lyla, when noticing this, questions Miguel as he shrugs at her absent-mindedly. (Mostly ignoring.)

The A.I. notices that.. You don't have a location. Much less one to travel to if needed.

"I don't even think they're a Spider, Miguel?" Lyla states in confusion, watching you as well curiously. As if seeing an endangered animal.

Days go bye, and Miguel notices that he started to watch you more often than reflecting on his past memories or a life he could have had.

It was if he was tuning in a late-day show, wanting to see where the main character, (You), would do next.

He'd watch you laugh, cry, sing, dance, anything with you in it.

"Oh God, why!" You screamed at the burnt meal you brought out of the oven, hurriedly placing it down on the table.

It became less of a routine as it was now borderline obsession.

His mind started to drift off into what your life would be like with him in it.

Would he look like he belonged there? Would you smile at him so sweetly when you see something you enjoy. Or would you look at him in terror, believing he was a creature from a T.V show?

He didn't know, he didn't care, knowing it could only be a fantasy as he saw more of your story play out before him.

"Lyla, any new news on the -" "Aghhh!" Miguel gave the A.I. a confused glare as he looked away from the report he was typing. " "It's always, "any location on the other anomaly this" or "try to track coordinates"! Miguel, I got no clue! Zero!"

-

[Yes, I wrote something for spiderverse. Couldn't help it! Let me know if I did good! Maybe I'll male more in the future! Comments, reblogs and hearts appreciated! Image is from the movie poster which goes to sonny! Love that he's falling lol♡]

[selfmessages]

Whipped Miguel who worships the ground you walk on—literally, this man is completely enamored by your existence. I mean, how could someone so perfect, so divine, even be real? Miguel constantly reminds you of how perfect he thinks you are. Praise for you is always at the tip of his tongue. Even if you don’t think you’re perfect, you could do absolutely no wrong in his eyes.

Whipped Miguel who vows to protect you til his very last breath. He doesn’t make any effort to hide how protective he is of you either. Pretty much all of Spider Society knows of his possessiveness over you. If so much as a hair on your head is out of place- (just imagine what he did to miles and times it by 10) Most of his free time is spent following you around under the guise of him needing to protect you. (It’s true, he wants to protect you from danger but he mostly just wants to spend time with you… and scare off any people who might try to take you from him.) You sometimes joke that he acts like a little puppy with separation anxiety. He’ll roll his eyes and cross his arms with a huff in a typical Miguel fashion, but we all know he doesn’t mind.

Whipped Miguel who stops at nothing to please you, including in bed. His favorite position is missionary. Simply because he loves seeing your face and all the expressions you make while he hits your sweet spot dead on, over and over again. He also loves hearing your sweet moans, maybe a little too much to the point where he constantly overstimulates you. He’ll have you shaking and twitching uncontrollably from the mind-bending orgasms he gives you. His aftercare is top tier so you don’t mind. He will clean you, change the bedsheets, get you food/water, and whatever else you need.

Whipped Miguel who loves having you in his arms. Fall asleep while he’s holding you and he could die a happy man right then and there. If you’re having any self-doubts he will plant you firmly in his lap with his arms around you while whispering sweet nothings and praises into your ear. He just loves you so much.

We ❤️ whipped Miguel

[appleblueberry-pie]

vampire miguel kissing you awake in the middle of the night. you can't breathe, his hand is nearly choking you around your throat, and his tongue in your mouth has a lingering copper taste on it. you groan, bringing your hands to his piercing cold and shirtless chest. the skin is soft, but the body has no running blood to give the telltale signs of functionality on the inside.

he got in through the window, mindlessly crawling on top of your bed and covering your sheets with the dirt all over his shoes from when he ran here. his fangs keep scraping and scraping at your bottom lip, threatening to pierce the sensitive, delicate, and warm skin.

he fucking loves that about you. you smell so good, so much good blood underneath that warm and delicious flesh. but the last thing he wants is your face twisting downward because of him. you immediately start fixing your lips to talk instead of kiss him and it makes him want to tell you to shut up.

he carefully takes his hand from around your throat and gets off your bed to close the window. you watch his shirtless form from the bed, still in a daze from sleep. he continues tracking your floor with dirt. you don't know how to tell him you wouldn't mind doing this a little more often.

[multifariousqueer]

Hello girl! how are you? doing well?

Can I request a E 42 yandere miles X reader? Am yes, E 42 reader is dead, omg how original XD

But the E 42 reader had this "church girl" or "flower girl" innocent type persona. And when E 1610 reader arrived with miles, she is a loud, cusses out a lot and has a hammer with her at all times.

E 42 miles sees her and while stunned to see such drastic personality change, he still sees his beloved in her and wants to keep her in his world and in his life? Add flashbacks if ya like! you can change it if you want! whatever makes it be awesome! luv you! <3

Hey, love!! I can totally do this

Suerte- Miles G x Reader

A/n: I hope y’all enjoy this!!

Warnings: strong language, angst, suggestiveness, reader being a spider person, descriptions of blood and yandere behavior, kidnapping, lmk if I missed anymore

You were falling off of a building, it seemed your screams would never end as you looked up into the endless sky waiting for someone, anyone to save you. Miles watched as he tried to run and save you but by then it was too late, the sound of your skull hitting the pavement and the crimson blood that flowed from your nose was enough to indicate that you were gone and there was no saving you. Miles cradled your softer skull as the police and ambulance arrived.

Suddenly, Miles woke up in a cold sweat. It was Sunday now, and he had to get ready for church the only reason he was going was because you convinced him too

You managed to convince Miles to do just about anything; he just couldn’t say no to your adorable face and he hated disappointing you. You two seemed like an odd couple at first, with Miles being tough, cold and closed off whereas you were bright, happy, innocent and it seemed like you could do no wrong. You went to church every Sunday, you prayed all the time, you helped everyone and everything and Miles fell for your soft innocence and your warmth. He fell for your simplicity, your poise, your patience and how you felt like a piece of heaven.

The day he lost you was the day he lost himself. Miles was never the same after you left; he closed himself off completely and adopted the Prowler moniker. He felt like he failed you and that you would be so dissapointed if you saw him now. Miles would have flashbacks to you telling him how much you loved him and how you would always love him in every universe, so he decided to pray and beg God for you back and eventually, he got that.

“MILES WHERE THE FLYING FUCK ARE WE??” you shouted

“I’M TRYING TO FIGURE THAT OUT, Y/N” Miles shouted back

You and your Miles were best friends since you both came to Visions. He found out you had powers the same as him and you two clicked immediately. It seemed you two were fated to be together; same music taste, fashion choices and morals its just you were a bit more harsh than him

“I think we’re home?” Miles questioned

“I don’t remember Brooklyn looking this shitty” you said

“It’s just dark, come on, we can go to my house. My mom loves you” you said

Mrs. Morales loved you because not only were you quick on your feet, you also made Miles happy and you made a great first impression. She thought you were exactly like Miles, just more abrasive and she thought you were sweet.

You went to Miles room and it looked different, almost more grown. Your spider-sense went off and just as you went to tell Miles, Rio was there and greeting him. She looked at you like she had seen a ghost, tears spilling from her...green eyes??

“Y/n?” she whispered

“Yeah? Hi Mrs. Morales” you went, going to give her a hug which she reciprocated just more eagerly

“Oh Mija, I thought you were dead. Gracias Dios, you answered my prayers” she said, sobbing and looking up at the sky

Her and Miles had a conversation and you both revealed your identities in which she was indifferent about. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal an Uncle Aaron.

He saw you and his eyes went wide. He stalked closer to you before grabbing your shoulders and shaking his head

“Is it really you, y/n?” he said

“uhh yeah last time I checked” you chuckled, grabbing your body as a joke

“Where did you go? How are you here?” he asked in disbelief

“Well interesting story actually, we used something called our legs and walked here” you joked, usually Aaron could appreciate your humor because it was one of the things he told Miles before he died

“Miles, you won’t find another girl like her. Girls like y/n don’t come around like that so I’d advise you to keep her"

“Got it” Miles would say

It was like you were looking into a portal of dead people, your entire body clenched when his gaze suddenly went cold.

He lead Miles and you to the roof when suddenly, you felt a strong stinging in your neck and just as you were about to hit the floor, a strong pair of arms grabbed you and you heard voices

“She’s not your, y/n man. She’s meaner”

“I don’t care"

You awoke with a splitting headache on a couch. Your limbs were handcuffed together and it was dark; your eyes immediately went to search for your Miles when you saw him tied to a bag

“He won’t be up for a bit, hes out cold. Maybe we can keep him that way” a voice said

“He’s not the only one who’s gonna be out cold. Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” you snapped

“Hm. So hostile, my Y/n would never speak like that” a man said approaching you

“Dawg are you smoking crack? Speed? Bath Salts? Because you gotta be fucked up if you think-“ you started

“la muchacha sucia(dirty girl), I should’ve put that gag on you while you were out” he said, taking off his mask to reveal your boyfriend just more gaunt

“Listen here you Rick and Morty knockoff, if you try that, I will bite your finger off, comprende?” you said

“Si. Eres muy bonita pero tu boca es tan asquerosa. I can tell you aren’t from here” he smirked

“Just so you know, just because you called me pretty doesn’t mean I won’t crush your nuts the second I get out of these chains. Listen, your knockoff prowler suit doesn’t scare me and neither do these chains, I could break out right now but I’m intrigued” you said

You heard groaning and saw your Miles move

“MILES” you screamed into the other Miles’ ear

“Y/N. GET AWAY FROM HER” your Miles shouted

The other Miles ignored him but he grabbed your throat and forced you to look up at him

“It’s not a knockoff mami and unless you want to find out just how powerful this suit can be, I suggest you pipe down. It’s gonna take a bit of work, maybe force” he tightened his grip at force, causing your eyes to water and your tongue to come out

“But I think I can make it work. You may not be exactly like her, but you’ll be close enough” Miles said, lowly

If the circumstances weren’t what they were, Miles would’ve found your position hot, you were tied up, tongue hanging out a bit and your eyes looked so pretty; in his mind, you were giving him the “fuck me” eyes but in reality, you were using this as a way to escape

The idea of playing along until he got his wish came to mind but you realized this was deeper than that, he wanted you in every form and if it wasn’t you, what’s to stop him from taking another version of you that may accidentally come by.

“What happened, mami? You had so much to say, say it.” Miles taunted, hand still flush against your throat

“Yeah its kinda hard when you’re choking the life outta me” you said

He took his hand off your throat and you coughed.

“Dude just leave her alone, okay? You can have me, kill me just please let her go” your Miles said, his voice faltering at the end

“Oh but where’s the fun in that? Plus cabron, I don’t want you at all, its not about you. It’s about her and her making a promise

“What promise did I make?” you asked

Miles got a flashback of you laying next to him, playing with his braids and giggling

“I’ll love you in every universe, Miles Morales” you said sweetly

Miles teared up and explained this to you

“Okay well bud, I’m not her and in a way, I do love you in every universe, I love my Miles but” you said before he slammed his fist next to you, causing you to yelp

“I am your Miles, mi amor. At least, I will be. I’m never letting you go again” he said close to your face, hovering above your lips before getting up and striding over to your Miles

[yandereaffections]

LITERALLY NO CLUE IF I’M PAST THE DEADLINE IT’S LIKE 1AM HERE FUCK IT WE BALL

Miguel with a reader who is the polar opposite of him?? Like he’s all dark and broody and serious and reader’s just like “okay lol I made cookies!” Him trying to pretend to be annoyed by reader but ends up failing when reader huge him? He would cease to function watch me OOC is the best kind :3

As much as Miguel complains about you distracting him from saving the multiverse, he never actually does anything about you unlike other spiders that might hit a nerve. If you point his 'acception' out he'll actually push you out of his monitor filled room after denying any comment you made with record speed, even Layla gets snapped at when daring to laugh at the scene

There will be times where you genuinely begin to think Miguel wants nothing to do with how you behave, how he's so distant and reserved, only having deeper conversations when you ease him into it, begin to think maybe you shouldn't be bothering him anymore. Watch his attention to detail crumble cause he doesn't have his buddy by his side, Layla will tease him about it consistently until Miguel finally goes out of his way to search for you, needing your company to continue with his work

The most stone hearted spiderman can be completely corroded, unbenounced to him of course. Miguel wouldn't even notice it happening when you get all giddy, seeing him coming after you gladly throwing yourself in his arms, everyone else can though.

[dilfartist]

Model 2099

Pairing; Yandere Android Miguel O’hara x reader

Synopsis; You always thought of your android Miguel as a loveable companion. Little did you know he had an unhealthy obsession with you. And it even went as far as hurting someone who hurt you.

Word count; 3.3k

Tw; yandere theme, dark themes, dead dove don’t eat (maybe).

Reader description; Female/GN

Your skin felt frigid. Your fingertips, ears, and nose all numb despite your body being clad head to toe in warm apparel.

In Nueva York, the snow descended in great, unforeseen amounts. On the first day of the predicted cold weather, the snow reached from the street to the concrete. It was narrow enough for a child to build a snowman. However the next day, the snow reached higher, enough to cover the doorsteps of some apartments on your block and blanket the roads in ice.

Now your street felt lifeless. The only cars seen were the ones parked on the sidewalks. None of your neighbors left the warmth of their homes.

You dig your left boot into the hill of rampant snow, then bring the right one to propel yourself further. Unlucky you, having to fight your way home through the snow just because you needed a few necessities. The weather forecast predicted the snow would last for at least two days, so you went out to retrieve toilet paper, soup cans, microwaveable dinners, and a flashlight in case of power outs.

Grasping the handle of the front door, you pressed it forward, enough for you to enter. Swiftly, you shut the door behind you to sponge in the warmth coming from the heater. Once your numb fingers began to absorb the heat, you peeled off your gloves - well these gloves weren't yours; they belonged to a co-worker nice enough to lend them to you- and threw them inside your purse. You let out a pleased sigh. The house had a tidied aroma, smelling like someone had used enough bleach for it to still be identified hours later despite drying. Still, the apple cider fragrance spray claimed the house, if only slightly. Disrobing yourself off your coat, you call out to your Android. "Miguel! I'm home!"

Usually, your android - Miguel O’Hara, model 2099- waited beside the door to greet you after a hard day's work. Helping you disrobe your jacket and asking you about your day. And even when slightly off-timing, he'd let you know of his presence with a "welcome back!" from wherever he was in the moment. Oddly enough, there was no reply. You look up, puzzled by the lack of response. "Miguel?!" You call out, voice more audible for the other side of the house this time. Again, no reply.

You don't think much of his absence, presuming he had forgotten to grab an ingredient for tonight's dinner and would be back home in no time. Sometimes he'd be so focused on one task that the other errands would be forgotten. Miguel could handle himself.

The majority of lights in the house were turned off; furthering your conclusion about your Android’s whereabouts. You stepped into your kitchen, examining the room. Aside from the pots on the stove, nothing had changed in the kitchen. The kitchen was spick and span, per usual. You'd remember to thank him when you saw him.

Approaching the stove, you took note of the two pots simmering on the stovetop. One sat on the front burner, the other on the back burner. You lifted the lid, allowing the steam to escape. Your stomach rumbles, craving the smell. I groan, feeling impatient, placing the lid back on the pot.

The aroma of dinner leaked out of the slightly ajar pot, alluring you closer for a taste. You entered the kitchen, following the scent of the meal simmering on the stove.

Raising the lid off the pot, you dip the ladle into the soup, scooping as much as you can. You took a small sip, savoring the creamy-rich taste. The taste is addicting and you can’t get enough. You dip the ladle in once again, drinking the soup until the ladle is empty. Then again you repeated the action.

“Don't worry, dinner will be ready in just a minute.” The abrupt sound of a person’s voice states. You flinch in surprise, A hand is placed on your chest, dropping the ladle, and your heart thumps quicker than before. “Miguel!” You gasp, “You scared me.” You whirl around to meet his eyes.

Miguel gives a small apologetic smile, setting the basket of clothes he was carrying onto the table. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Miguel says softly, accent getting heavier at the end. “Didn't hear you come in.”

“No, it’s fine.” You reassured. “Thank you for cleaning.”

Even if Miguel was programmed to clean, you always felt the need to thank him for his labor. No matter the times he reminded you that he was a machine designed for that very chore.

“I should also apologize for not greeting you at the door; My clothes were in the dryer.”

“It's fine, Miguel, really. You don't have to greet me at the door every day.”

Once again, Miguel provides you with a small smile; however, his smile does not reach his eyes. If the guilty smile Miguel sported wasn't enough evidence of his guilt, the flashing red LED on Miguel's right temple certainly accomplished the job.

The LED’s scarlet color quickly transitioned into a light blue color, indicating Miguel had gotten over his negative feelings.

It was terrifying knowing the sole dissimilarity between the two of you was the LED. Without the LED, you wouldn't have thought Miguel to be an Android. Knowing the sole difference between the two of you was the LED was in a way terrifying. Without the LED installed in the right temple of Androids, no one would be able to tell who was a robot and who wasn't.

Dragging the box cutter down swiftly, the tape splits open. You take a step back examining the package. The package is light brown, standing up vertically against the wall. “What the hell is this thing?” you ask, amused. A good friend of yours shipped you a gift out of the blue, so you called her up to catch your reaction.

“Open it and see,” she replies sarcastically.

You roll your eyes and spread the folds of the box open. Package peanuts spill all over the floor, and you grumble at the mess that piles on the floor. “Goddamn it,” you’re just about to complain some more when you catch something out of the corner of your eye. You freeze in place, you raise your head in an unhurried motion, the dread in your abdomen expanding.

You holler with fright, falling on your ass. “Did you send me a dead body?!” you exclaim into the speaker of your phone.

Your friend on the other side of the line enjoys your reaction, laughing so hard she begins to have a coughing fit. “Oh my god,” she hums in satisfaction, “you’re too funny, (Name).” After a while she settles down, no longer laughing but her tone still caries the puerile amusement she once had a moment ago, “It’s not a dead body. It's an Android.”

You were familiar with the concept of an android. Androids have been ubiquitous since their first release, and you’ve encountered many, but the majority of the time they were owned by establishments due to their overwhelming expense. Which is why the thought of you owning an Android was mind-boggling.

You stutter out a response, not sure how to approach the profound surprise, “You- I- why did you give it to me? Not that I’m complaining. It's just- this had to be about 8,000 dollars!” Then it hits you; you and she are in the same boat when it comes to funds, “Wait- how the hell did get this?!” you rub your temple, examining the face of the bot through the blurred glass that contains it.

She responds nonchalantly, “Aaron is wealthy remember? He bought me it.”

Aaron was her new boyfriend, he came from a wealthy background and she took advantage of that fact every moment she could. And he didn't seem to mind. Buying this bot would be like buying a box of cereal for him; not something to think twice and a regular ordeal.

You lift a brow, perplexed by the fact she gave you such an expensive gift. Not that you were complaining, of course, just simply curious “And you gave it to me? Why?” you question.

“He got jealous because the Android is literally breathtaking and I just couldn't keep my eyes off him. So being how he always is, he requested for me to throw it out. I mean his voice, Jesus,” she suppresses a squeal, “and not only that, he’s 6’9 and muscular!” she continues to gush about him, you unconsciously tune her out, your focus too busy on analyzing his blurred features.

You hum in acknowledgment. “Well, let me take it out, I’ll have to research it. Thanks for the gift, I'll talk to you later. Bye.”

You take a seat at the dining table. Miguel saunters to the stove, opens the lid, and takes a portion of the soup out to pour into a porcelain bowl. You cock your head to the side, curious to know the reason two respective pots were brewing their own soups. “What’s the other pot have in it?” you question.

Miguel glances at you for a moment then continues to prepare your bowl. “Mrs. Peterson is sick,” he carries the bowl over and sets it gently in front of you. “She asked me to prepare her some soup. I offered her the soup I made for tonight’s dinner, but you know how she can be.”

Mrs. Peterson lived next door, and she adored Miguel. She was sixty-three years old, childless, and had no family members in general. She always required his assistance and Miguel always obliged.

A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, concern morphing your face. “She’s sick? That's too bad. That’s sweet of you to help her.”

Mindlessly, you use your soup spoon to stir the steaming liquid in the bowl. Anxious of the answer he’ll reply to you with, you take a breath of courage. “Did David come by today?” you question, voice low and meek

Miguel is quiet for a beat until he decides to speak up. “No, and if he did, I’d deal with him,” he states carefully, touching on the subject to convey his understanding. “You haven't called him, have you?” his tone is identical to a nagging best friend who is tired of seeing you whine over a boy.

“No.” you shake your head, eyes shifting to meet his, “no,” you say once again to reassure him. Miguel appears satisfied with the answer he received, “Good. Don't go contacting him after what he did to you.” you let out an exasperated exhale. Leaning back in your chair, setting down the soup spoon in your hand, “I- Miguel, I think I might have deserved it.”

Miguel snaps his head in your direction, wearing a stern mug, “He had no right to put his hands on you, no matter the reason.” he chides. He leans his massive body against the counter, folding his arms, fully engaged in the conversation.

“I brought up his ex!” you argue on his behalf. Why? You’re unsure.

“Oh, so he should act the same way she did, to you?” Miguel is a tad bit galled, being sardonic with his retorts. Now he’s fully engrossed in the discussion, leaning his massive body against the counter, giving you his undivided attention. “Slapping you so hard you hit the wall.”

It hurts how factual his words are. It’s enough for you to look down in chagrin, a lump forming in your throat making it hard to swallow. Let anyone else be in your situation, you’d chastise them for such a weak mindset. Make sure they knew there was no good reason to blame themselves for someone else's wrongdoing. But being that person who feels empathy for the person who hurt you, feels so much more embarrassing than having a friend be that person.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you say lowly, speaking any louder would make you cry.

“It’s fine, (Name).” Miguel consoles, moving from the counter to rub a comforting hand on your back. You sigh, feeling soothed by the little gesture. Miguel leans down, tilting his body slightly to face-to-face with you. Miguel looks at you with such tenderness a shover travels down your spine. “He won’t hurt you again, I’ll make sure of it” His expression as a whole is soft and full of fondness, though his red eyes pierce your soul.

“Miguel bot 2099,” you mutter the title of the YouTube video on your TV screen. You click play and the video loads for a second before finally playing.

A woman appears in a pitch-black void background. Her whole body is a golden color and she sports an elegant white dress that fits her figure. “Hello, I am Lyla.” she greets sounding welcoming, “I am the mascot of the company LYLA. We are the ones responsible for Androids and Ai’s. You must have clicked on this video because you must have purchased a Miguel bot or you’re just curious.”

Lyla presents a Miguel bot that emerges on the screen out of nowhere. “Miguel O bot is one of LYLA’s number one selling Androids. And there’s a reason for that.”

“Miguel is used for three sole reasons.”

Three Miguels appear on the screen, all in diverse outfits. One is in a business suit, another in a red and blue apron covering a white t-shirt, and the last one is shirtless with leather pants.

Lyla puts her hand out, motioning to the first one in a suit. “Here we have Workbot Miguel. Miguel’s hardworking nature mends well with a work environment, which is why he is mainly purchased to be a working android. Miguel has a variety of skills that companies yearn for in employees. Barriestabot Miguel, Assistant Managerbot Miguel, Firefighterbot Miguel, and Nursebot Miguel are just a few Androids listed in this category of the bot.

Lyla moves on and the camera pans to the second Miguel clad in the apron and white shirt. “Household Miguel: with household Miguel, you’ll never have to worry your head about cleaning or cooking, that’s his job! He pays necessities and bills if you have no time. And he is great with children!”

She moves on for the last time. “And here we have the Miguel meant for adults eighteen and above. This is sexbot Miguel, mostly found in male strip clubs or can be purchased online. We assure you, that you’ll feel pleasure you’ve never felt before. He comes with a remote control, which switches from hardcore dominant to soft dominant to submissive. We’ve created his intimate parts to the point numerous test participants felt like it was the real deal, and probably even better. He’s crafted to seem real so he includes fluids. The fluids are not real, they are simply there for it to seem real or by the user's choice. The fluid can be bought in stores near you or online. There are fruit flavors as well as desserts.”

The Miguel Androids disappear and Lyla is left by herself. “If any malfunctions occur with the bots, we have programmed the Miguel to have a Lyla AI to sit on his shoulder and help the user repair the issue. Lyla’s are never the same. They don’t appear like I do. Lyla’s come in all shapes, sizes, and ethnicities.”

Lyla gives a smile, a smile that you can’t help but feel uncomfortable by. It’s like she's staring right at you. In you.

“We hope you enjoy your Android. Your friends at LYLA.” the video concludes.

You sit there mentally processing the information for a minute, rubbing your chin. Your gaze moves to the Android, now propped up on the wall, and outside it’s containment. Miguel is definitely tall and extremely muscular as he was claimed to be. You can see why Aaron demanded she throw him out; he couldn't compete with him in the slightest.

Miguel had tanned skin, dark brown hair pushed back, two thick bushy eyebrows, and old wrinkles. Why did they choose to make him aged? They never explain. Maybe it’s to target families and people with daddy issues, you think. You walk over, looking up at his face. His eyes are shut.

“Didn't explain how to turn you on,” you grumble. Your hands explore the skin of his neck until your fingertips brush against a button on the back, you press down until a humming sound emits from the Android. You take two steps back and watch as the Android powers on. On his left temple appears a blue swirling light. His eyes flutter open.

...Are they red? That's...not right.

Your brows crease at the sight. You take out your phone, glancing at the original model once again. Yeah...Miguel should definitely have brown eyes. “What the hell..?” you whisper.

Putting your phone away to be polite to him, you greet him. He looks down at you, “Hello. My name is Miguel O’Hara.” he states casually.

His red eyes are piercing into you, but still, you find yourself bewitched.

“Thanks, Miggy,” you smile slightly at him, not yet recovering after the hard topic. Miguel was right, David’s vitriolic behavior towards you was inexcusable. Miguel would be there for you. He’s been your support more than your own boyfriend has been for months. Granted one is a robot, but sometimes you don’t even realize it with how human he acts.

A high-pitched beeping sound echoes from the left side of the house. “The washer is done. I put in another load when you came in. I’ll be back.” Miguel saunters off.

You stand up, walking over to the stove holding your empty bowl. You reach for the first pot but then decide against it. Mrs. Peterson wouldn’t die if you had one bowl of the soup. You reach over and open the second pot. You scoop as much soup as you can onto the ladle and pour it into the bowl. Once filled nearly to the brim, you place it down on the counter. You grab the lid, placing it back onto the pot.

You turn your attention back to the bowl.

“What the hell?” you mumble, squinting to guarantee yourself you weren’t crazy.

Poking out of the soup was something white. Nothing you could identify from just one look. You take your spoon and pick up the white thing with it.

It was...an eyeball! A human eyeball!

You scream in terror, dropping to the floor, your fall causing the entirety of the pot to plunge with you to the ground, reverberating a clank. You crawl away, from the dark liquid puddling the floor. More and more body parts are revealed; a big white toe, fingers of all sizes, another eyeball, and you can only assume the chunks of meat are the entire body. You shake like a leaf in the wind, looking around for something to do! What were you going to do now?!

Your panic is interrupted by a creak in the floorboards outside the kitchen. You snap your head in the detection of the sound to see Miguel standing in the doorway, taking up the whole door with his body. You cower in fear at his physiognomy. His expression is indistinct, bloodshot eyes watching you like a lion catching its prey attempting to sneak off. You stare at each other, both unmoving from your spots. You’re the first to speak, though if it weren’t for the pregnant silence and the motion of your lips, “I’m sorry,” your voice cracks, the lump in your throat making a comeback. “Please don't hurt me.” you whimper.

Miguel saunters towards you, you scoot back still on edge. Miguel knees down, taking your face into his hands. They feel warm. Why? He hushes your cries with such tender you nearly overlook the situation. “I had to,” he spoke up factually. “He came in here, threatening you for telling his mother about the fight. I couldn't let him hurt you again.”

You let out a muffled cry, looking into his crazed eyes bloodstained eyes. He presses a kiss to your forehead and whispers, “I made sure he’d never hurt you again.”

[dearest-painter]

We need a oneshot of Miguel finding out baby!reader backstory. Imagine everyone's shock and sadness when it revealed baby! reader dad was Miguel and he died while reader was with him on a stroll and the reason why they don't like gunshots and cover their ears

(he got shot with a gun forgot to mention that)

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship, abusive behavior, abusive relationship, Mentions of being killed, mentions of guns, No one is safe from angst, tell me if I need to add anything

Summary:Everyone was so confused on why you were confused why you were clingy to Miguel until they learnt your life before them…they realize the truth of you being clingy to Miguel

Miguel held you close as he was sitting in his chair, he was humming as it was close to your nap time. Everyone and including him was very confused on why you were clingy to Miguel so he got Lyla to see why. “Miguel…I found out their past…” Miguel saw and heard the sadness in Lyla’s voice and face. “Show me” she sighed and showed him an article from your universe. ‘FATHER SHOT TO DEATH IN STARLIGHT PARK IN BRAD DAYLIGHT’ then he read the the first few words. ‘Miguel O’Hara was with his child, Y/N O’Hara, in the park when he was shot five times. Police are still looking for the suspect, a funeral and a fundraiser will start in the name of Miguel O’Hara July 5’

He looked down at you…he died in your universe with you near him during it..that explains why you hate Webslinger and Noir’s guns…your afraid they’ll take him away from you again. “Thank you Lyla…” she nodded her head and played the white noise again for you, they both looked at you very upset face. “Tell Jessica and the others about it…they have a right to know at least.” Lyla nodded and went to send it out. “Daddy loves you and he’ll always be with you, no one will take me away from you” he kissed your forehead and nose as he rested his forehead against yours smiling slightly as in your sleep, put your hand on his cheek.

[miguelswifey04]

okay idea, so let’s say Miguel has a crush on Spider!reader, or regular reader which ever you prefer. And he steals reader underwear and he used it to Jack off

Basically Miguel being a pervert , sorry if this is isn’t what you write

yandere! miguel o’hara x fem! reader

cw: perverted! miguel, stalking, stealing reader’s underwear, masturbation, nsfw 18+, smut; no plot, miguel has a corruption kink (?), dub-con

a/n: in no way i condone this at all. this is purely fiction.

miguel’s admiration for you goes beyond the realms of simple desire, evolving into a deeper fondness and adoration. he becomes infatuated with you, wanting to possess a piece of you to satisfy his longing. he wanders through your room, his heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and guilt. his eyes land on your panty drawer, and he can't resist the temptation to have something even more personal to satiate his forbidden desires.

in an act of mischief, miguel secretly takes hold of a pair of your panties, relishing in the scent of your essence that clings to the fabric. he locks himself in his room, his mind consumed with thoughts of you as he indulges in his personal fantasy.

with your panties in hand, he wraps them around his throbbing length, using them as a makeshift masturbatory aid. the silkiness of the fabric against his skin drives him wild, intensifying the pleasure coursing throughout his body. “your scent, your touch... it drives me crazy," he moans, lost in the intoxication of his desires. "having a piece of you like this... it's almost like having you right here with me."

he strokes himself with fervor, picturing your enticing curves and sultry gaze. with each movement, he can feel you in his imagination, the pleasure building to an overwhelming peak. finally, he releases a deep, guttural groan of satisfaction, his hot release shooting onto the stolen panties. the stolen panties are now stained with his release, a haunting symbol of his obsession and the depths he has sunk to.

as he catches his breath, the weight of his actions washes over him, a bitter mix of shame and regret. he quickly gathers himself and slips out of your home, leaving with a heavy heart and a haunted conscience, vowing to confront the turmoil consuming him.

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @obi-mom-kenobi @emiemiemiii @meeom @astro1bloom @meeom

[yamamasjumpercables]

At The Bodega

Miles!Morales!1610 x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word 🍒

a/n: I have left this in my drafts for too long

Miles wakes up to the sound of his late alarm blaring in his ears. Already being 10 minutes late for school Miles quickly puts his school uniform on, tucking his spider suit underneath textbooks. Miles rushes down the steps of the building where he lives, zipping up his backpack and texting Ganke that he will be late for first period. An ache in miles starts to arise. What’s 5 more minutes anyway, plus it’s study hall no one actually gets work done in there. Miles opens the door to the bodega, saying hi to the owner of the store before he gets his food. Miles goes to the back of the store looking for his favorite drink. Miles hears grunts coming from the left of him, and there you were. When miles laid his eyes on you it was like he was dreaming. Even though you were so concentrated on getting the drink from the higher shelf, he can still see the beauty in your face. “Um hey do you think you can help me get this” You say taking Miles out of his thoughts. Miles mouth quickly dries up. He didn’t know what to say. He can’t embarrass himself because first impressions are everything. He wonders what school you go to. He looks at your bookbag and see all the pins it has on it. Has he been staring too long at you. All these thoughts running through his poor overcrowded head. “Hello, can you help me” You ask waving your hand in Miles face. “Oh um yea I can help you” Miles says snapping out of his overwhelming thoughts. Miles goes to grab the drink that you wanted and hands it to you, giving you a soft smile. “Thank you” You say smiling back. Miles is so focused on your smile, he blocked out all the sounds around him. “I’m gonna go” You say awkwardly. “Oh yea I’m sorry if I was staring” Miles says embarrassed, scratching his neck. “I mean is there something on my face” You ask him confused, touching your face. “no I just think you’re very pretty- wait no I didn’t mean that- well I did mean that because you are very beautiful, and I’m here telling a stranger that they’re beautiful” Miles rambles on. “Hey it’s ok, if it makes you feel any better I think you’re pretty as well” You say with a soft smile on your face. “You do” Miles says a little shocked. You nodded. You finally hear the microwave beep, letting you know your food is ready. You go to the counter to pay for your food, but remembered you forgot your cash at home. “I’ll pay for you” Miles says taking out a few bucks from his pocket. “You don’t have to” You say putting miles money back in his pocket. “No I insist” Miles says giving the cashier the money. “Thank you, how can I make it up to you” You say putting your food in your tote for later. “Well for starters you can give me your name” Miles says confidently. “My name is Y/“ You were cut off by your alarm going off for school. “Shit I have to go, maybe I’ll see you here again pretty boy” You say smiling, waking out the bodega. It’s definitely safe to say miles was left with and 3 dollars and blooming crush on you.

First time writing for Miles Morales, I wanted to expand my writing just a smidge. So hopefully you guys like it<3

[rotting--melody]

Crazy in Love . . .

Yandere!Miguel O'Hara x Gn!Human!Reader

Hello everyone! Just a heads up, this is part one of a two-part fic that I was requested to do! Well, technically, I was only asked to do part 2, but I just can't pass up an opportunity to write a cringe good yandere fic! Definitely not because I couldn't figure out how to write a good one-part Yandere fic.

wc-> 2.2k (holy shit)

cw-> yandere behavior, possessive behavior, stalker behavior, not smut yet, but trust me it will be MESSY in part 2

(fic directly below the cut)

Working for the Miguel O’Hara was not what you expected it to be.

It was worse.

Ungodly hours, strict rules, and no room for error. Working for him was what you imagined being the right hand for the devil was like. Not to mention that it seemed like he had a personal vendetta against you. Whatever you did, it was never good enough -working overtime, filing his mission reports, making sure his ‘spider cave’ was spotless- nothing was enough for the man monitoring the multiverse.

And yeah, sure, the pay was good, and you did get dental and health care (he might be a monster, but he's not a villain), but god, Miguel ran you fucking ragged. Since the day you were hired, he’d been nothing but a douchebag to you.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad. You’d made many great friends, the closest being Peter B, Gwen, and Hobie. You four were practically inseparable, and everyone knew it. You and Gwen were especially close, with you taking an older-sibling role in her life. Unfortunately, there was very little free time to just hang out with them while you were at the Spider-Society headquarters. For whatever reason, Miguel never let you spend longer than your (generous) ninety-minute lunch break outside of the dark little cave he called his office. And usually, that time was interrupted by none other than Mr.O’Hara himself. You knew that in being his personal secretary you’d be expected to run around and do things for him, but at this point, you felt like Andrea Sachs in The Devil Wears Prada, constantly running your ass off for an ungrateful and spectacularly moody boss. To be entirely honest, compared to Miguel O’Hara, Miranda Priestly looked like a fucking angel.

You quietly chuckled to yourself, conjuring up the image of Miguel strutting around in a pair of violently red Prada heels.

“What's so funny, Y/n?” Gwen asks, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“Nothing,” you dismissed, “Just thought of something funny.” You lightly cleared your throat and took a sip from the water bottle in front of you.

A sudden beeping erupted from your pocket, and you gave a loud groan.

“Lunch break over already?” Gwen says with a small sigh.

“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” you say, checking the message on your phone. Of course, it’s Miguel, probably wanting you to do something he could easily do himself. “You want to swing by my place after I get off? We could watch some cheesy flick and gossip like high-schoolers.”

Gwen excitedly nods her head, and you give her a soft smile. Giving her a parting hug, you quickly make your way back to your and Miguel's shared ‘office’. There, you’re met with the annoyingly attractive back of your boss.

“You’re late.” He grumbles.

You make a sound of exasperation. “I literally came here as soon as you called. Sorry that this place- that you designed, by the way- is built like a fucking labyrinth!” God, did he get on your nerves.

Miguel's only response is a grunt as you roll your eyes and sit down in your chair in the corner of his office. You quickly start pulling up mission logs on one monitor, and live footage of ongoing missions on the other. Your fingers fly fast across your keyboard, filling out what you’re able to on the logs, while your eyes quickly scan the many videos of Spider-people currently engaged in battle. You had always been fairly good at multitasking, so the work you did for Miguel had never been overly complicated. Truth be told. You really had no idea why he chose you for the position of his secretary. You’d think with Lyla, he’d have everything he’d ever need right at his fingertips.

After a few hours of mindless paperwork and watching battles, you decided to call it quits. Your eyes had started to burn, and your fingers were cramping. Finishing up the last few lines of what was (hopefully) your last log of the night, you stood up and stretched your sore muscles, and cracked a few bones.

"I'm leaving for the night, O'Hara. You have my number if anything happens."

Miguel didn't even so much as spare you a glance before you walked out of the room, already dialing Gwen's number.

《♡》

It was well into the early hours of the morning when you and Gwen finally said goodbye. After a long night of greasy food, bad films, and riveting workplace gossip (you would not believe how much drama happens in a place where everyone is fundamentally the same), you wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a comfortable rest on your newly cleaned sheets.

You stretched your muscles a bit, popping a few joints in your shoulders and back for a little extra relief.

You yawn slightly and absentmindedly scratched at your arm while you pick out what to wear to bed. Deciding on a simple pair of black booty shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you throw them into your bed, grab your towel, and quickly make your way into the bathroom.

After letting the water heat up for a couple seconds, you put on your favorite playlist and step in. Despite being thoroughly exhausted, your sheets are new, which means it's time to shave.

After shaving, shampooing, conditioning, and washing yourself, you step out of the shower. You towel dry your hair and then wrap the plush fabric around your body.

Making your way into your bed room, something is immediately wrong. Your instincts are telling you to run, get out, hide, but for some reason, you don't listen. You do, however, go into the top drawer of your nightstand and pull out an incredibly sharp knife (which you had stored for just this reason).

You swiftly make your way around your room, checking in the closet, under the bed, and behind the door. Nothing and no one is there.

"Maybe I'm finally going crazy for real. . ." you say to yourself, shaking your head slightly. You return the knife to it's drawer, and go to get into your pajamas.

You glace over to your bed, slightly confused.

"I could have sworn I grabbed my shorts out?"

《♡》

It's been several months since you lost your shorts, and things only seem to be getting weirder. You've been losing stuff more regularly. First your shorts, then one of your favorite jackets, then your favorite necklace, your perfume, nail polish, and most recent, your body wash (which you had just bought).

What's more, Miguel has also been acting different. Not nicer, but also not meaner. More. . . protective? But not in a good way. Your lunch break was cut from ninety minutes to fifty, and you were no longer allowed to eat in the cafeteria or common spaces.

"What the fuck do you mean I can eat lunch in the café anymore?" You angrily question Miguel.

"You're distracting the others. From now on, you'll have twenty minutes to get your food, and thirty minutes to eat. Which you will be doing in here, with me." Miguel states monotonously, not even bothering to glance at you.

You let out a scoff and roll your eyes. "At this point, why don't you just put me in a cage and chain me to the desk?"

Miguel lets out a breathy chuckle, turning around to look you dead in the eyes. "Don't tempt me, pequiña."

The pit that formed in your stomach after hearing those words was most certainly not one of fear.

You get angry just thinking about that interaction. It had been a couple weeks since it was implemented, and while you had adjusted rather fast, you still didn't like it in the slightest.

Miguel has also been giving you more work, forcing you to stay later and later. You swore that if he wasn't such good eye-candy, you would have throttled him.

Speaking of eye-candy. . . You glace over to Miguel's work station to snoop. If he's going to keep you cooped up in here, you should be allowed to spy on what he's doing.

He's standing hunched over his over-the-top computer set up, watching his many screens and muttering quietly to himself. He calls Lyla up and asks her something quietly. You swear you heard your name, but you were so far away it was hard to discern anything he was saying.

You shake your head and turn back to your work.

《♡》

It was nearly midnight now, and you were still in this wretched place. You let out a loud groan and run your eyes.

“Hey, O’Hara? I'm leaving. Don't call me in tomorrow either, I need the day off.”

Your statement seems to pique Miguel's interest, as he finally moved from the position he's been standing in for hours. He turns around, leaning onto his desk and placing his hands on his incredibly tiny waste (seriously, how is that even fair??).

“Oh really?” he askes, voice laced with something you can't quite pick up on “And why is that?”

You groan again, fed up with your man-child boss.

“Because I just need a day to myself, okay? You've been working me to the bone, and I just need a massage and probably a visit to the chiropractor.” You emphasize your statement by harshly cracking your back on your chair.

He chuckles softly to himself and lightly licks his lips. “You could always ask me for help with that pequiña.”

You flush red at his statement and cough a little. Damn him for being so sexy. . .

“I uh. . . I think I'm okay. Thanks for the offer though, boss.” You can feel yourself practically sweating and you jump up from your seat and begin packing your bag.

Miguel lets out a soft hum and turns back to his computer, smiling ever so slightly.

You glace back up at your boss before you head out of the room, grabbing the little trash bag sitting in the corner of the room to dispose of on your way out. You leave with one final glace back at his broad shoulders.

The walk through Headquarters is silent. Despite being a hub for all spider folk, the halls are quiet, leaving the small click of your shoes on the tile as the only noise.

Lugging the trash bag through the halls, you reach a large dumpster and begin to haul it inside. As you swing the bag above your head, the shitty plastic gives and the contents spill out over the ground.

“Fuck! Eww that's so nasty oh my god!” You yell in disgust at the trash flies everywhere, covering you in the mysterious liquid every bag of trash seems to have.

You quickly wipe your hands off on your pants as you being to (begrudgingly) pick up the garbage from the floor. Crumpled papers, some broken cables, a couple of water bottles, a bottle of your bodywash, some rotting-

Wait.

“What the hell?”

There, sitting innocently on the ground, is a bottle of the bodywash you use. How the hell did this get here?

The bottle is mostly empty, but sloshes slightly when you pick it up, like someone has filled it with water or something in an attempt to prolong its use. You're a little creeped out.

Okay, you're a lot creeped out.

The only people who use the bin in Miguel's ‘office’ are you and him. And you certainly don't remember bringing a used bottle of soap into work to throw out.

Maybe me and Miguel just use the same soap? I mean, I'm pretty sure he lives here so. . .

A chill runs down your back as you hear a voice from the darkness.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

You quickly hide the bottle behind your back as you spin around to face him.

“Miguel! Hi! Yeah, everything is okay, I just spilled the trash, sorry to bother you.” You speak fast and nervously, inching closer to the trash bin to toss the hidden bottle inside.

Miguel raises an eyebrow at you, clearly questioning your suspicious actions.

“Ah. Okay then. Do you need any help?” He asks. It feels like he's testing you.

You nervously chuckle. “Nope! I'm all good! Sorry again for bothering you, I'll be leaving now!” In one quick motion, you throw the bottle into the trash behind you and speed walk out of the building and away from your boss.

《♡》

You lay in your bed, unblinking at the ceiling. The soap had been keeping you up. You know it's probably nothing, but with all the weird shit that's been happening to you recently, everything has been putting you on edge.

You toss and turn, your mind both racing with thoughts and completely empty. You don't even realize you're falling asleep until your eyes shut, and you succumb to the darkness.

《♡》

You awake with a start, and a horrible sensation of dread courses through your entire body. You sit up in bed, blinking the sleep from your eyes and scanning your room.

You see nothing.

Until you don't.

A large, shadowy figure stands unmoving in the corner of your room. Two glowing red eyes stare at you from the darkness.

“Oh pequiña. . . I really wish you hadn't seen that earlier. . .”

TO BE CONTINUED‼️‼️

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

■□▪︎COURTING▪︎□■ Part 1

{Miguel O'hara/Reader}

《You decided to screw around with biology/Your attempts at trying to wooTHEE Miguel O'hara.》

-

"Pav, Hobbie, Gwen! Hiya!" Your enthusiastic voice calls out to the younger Spiderlings. Jess, who sees you happily taking the teens in a group hug. It catches Miles off guard but reciprocates the hug. Gwen flinches, but relaxes in your hold. While Pav snuggles into your warmth, Hobbie groans playfully, patting you on the back.

You chuckle and let them go, before smiling brightly at Jess and waving at her stomach. "Hi little buggy! Your mom is doing an amazing job! Don't make it hard for her!" You tease, causing Jess to lightly chuckle at your antics.

˚Female Wolf Spiders have a strong attachment to their children since they (unlike most spiders) carry them around in their egg sac and do not abandon them. They even protect their newborns after they hatch."

"So... How did the first mission go?" You said warmly, gazing at the teens pridefully. Miles smiles, chatting excitedly. Even pulling out a small art book he had brought with him, drawing a small doodle of what the villain looked like.

"Oh, oh!" Pav excitedly raises his hand, taking your attention.

"Yes?"

"How's it been going with getting the bossmans attention?" Hobbie interrupts with a playful smile directed at Pavitr. "I wanted to ask that!" Pavitr whines as all the young Spiderlings gaze at you.

Jess laughs as you smile happily.

"It's been going well! I think-" You pause as a small noise alerts you.

"I'll have to tell ya'll later, I was assigned another mission, see you soon!"

As soon as you left, Miles turns the page of the paper as little notes and comments are written all over the place. A small doodle of Miguel in his spider suit glaring at you in your own spider suit.

"It oddly feels like bingo.." Gwen remarks. Laughing slightly at her own set of notes, she added.

"I mean, you can't blame us! (Y/N) is literally pulling out all the tricks to get Miguel!" Pavitr says, adding a small heart between the two doodles of you and Miguel.

-

■ Attempt one!■

Males in a few species locate a female and unceremoniously run to her and mate, others court by rhythmically plucking the threads of a web. After the female approaches, he pats and strokes her before mating.

After a long and stressful mission and capturing another anomaly. Your team follows behind you, groaning tiredly and a bit slow to your up-beat pace.

"Miguel~!"

The futuristic Spider-Man eyes your group, nodding to them for their job well done.

Miguel then growls when feeling you pounce on his unmoving body. You hug his waist tightly as Lyla snidely. Your group, afraid of your well-being, beg you to let go. Fearing that he'd kill you, or the more plausible idea, throw you into a wall.

Miguel scoffs as your grip becomes tighter, struggling to get you off of him as you squeal happily.

-

■Attempt two!■

Wolf Spiders perform a mating ritual that are a combination of visual display and vibrations akin to a courtship song. IF the female denies, she may eat the male.

You twirl and swing beautifully in the air, singing to the song playing in the background as you and Miguel track down a music themed Vulture.

When a male jumping spider encounters a female—literally any female—he launches into an elaborate courtship dance, including rhythmic flailing of limbs and complex vibrations.

Miguel rolls his eyes at your small movements that look like you were dancing. Your groove, not being thrown off as you manage to pull Miguel into a clumsy one-sided waltz as you kick the (finally) tied down Vulture.

His mean comments not helping your dancing as Miguel quietly chuckles at your actions.

-

[Part two will be released soon! This is gonna be probably one of my best series yet! Taglist is open for ONE HOUR. Comments are highly appreciated and need to keep this series going! Thank you guys so much!]

(Also, (Y/N) is GN! Miggy is male.)

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

⌗︙・⚠︎ miguel o'hara unable to keep his desperation and urges at bay ⚠︎ ♡⸝⸝

Whenever a difficult and unsavory situation was to be presented before you, you would play dumb. With a confused expression on your face, and eyes filled with naivety like a lost puppy, you'd play dumb.

Not all the time of course, since this sort of act sometimes just wasn't enough to keep some situations from blowing up right in your face. Your feigned ignorance would be an acting catalyst for a much bigger problem, and it was only then that you'd drop the act and find a safe way to diffuse the issue before it coagulated into something worse. The number of times when you were just so aware—so hyper-aware of what could be yet another hot mess or a blessing in disguise—yet gave nothing but a sweet clueless smile, was countless.

The less you knew, the less you'd be hurt. Yeah, it's a terrible way of dealing with your problems, but you're self-aware enough to know that. It feels awful to act like a fool when you so badly want to say what's on your mind, to have to pent up your feelings and thoughts just because you don't want to ruin what you've worked so hard to build up. But you're a coward—a sniveling, pathetic little coward that can't even properly face their own problems like an adult—first and foremost, even if your cowardice provided but a temporary safety.

But by god, this strange little coping mechanism was probably the only thing that keeps you away from his touch, his twisted affections, and just everything about him. Miguel O'Hara is someone who is testing your ability, making it so hard to keep a calm face when all you want to do is fight your way out of his obsessive hold and run far away. His temper is far from pleasant, flaring red like hellfire and fangs bared as if he were ready to tear you to pieces, and it's clear he has the strength to do it if he so easily wanted to.

But he doesn't—he wouldn't—ever direct his animalistic anger at you, not physically. No matter how much you beg or try to bargain with him to please just let you go or try your hand at escaping his futuristically clean apartment, he never lets his physical prowess loose upon you, never raising a clawed hand to wrap around your fragile neck. No, the most he's ever done was grab onto your shoulders with a painful squeeze, voice raising more and more until you swear you felt a faint ringing in your ears. Upon seeing your pained expression, he loosened his grip but still didn’t release you. He coaxed you—forced you—into promising that you wouldn't try that again, his voice and face bordering on desperation as he sucks in deep breaths, cooling down his explosive temper.

It's not like you have much of a choice either. Especially when Miguel's affectionate touches and embraces become more intimate, dipping closer and closer into unwanted territory that leaves your heart racing. And not in a good way.

It's so hard to pretend, hard to play dumb when Miguel tries so hard to make his inconspicuous touches seem so innocent, so loving, as his hands draw close to areas he shouldn't even have permission to touch. When he forces you upon his lap, face buried in the side of your neck—you're even sure he inhales your scent—the feeling of something hot and stiff prodding at you from below is far from lost on you. It's a bit hard to be able to hold a conversation with what is essentially your kidnapper, whom you know retreats to the privacy of the bathroom to relieve himself when your supposed obliviousness becomes too much for him.

You know it's only a matter of time before Miguel's patience runs thin, and the touches that you always squirm away from will devolve and become even more obvious and more desperate. You know that Miguel is fighting every urge to just take you against whatever surface happens to be nearest, fighting the urge to leave your lower half numb until you could hardly walk anymore. You know that he wants nothing more than to fill you with him, your bodies clinging onto one another as you fill up and overwhelm each other's senses.

You're proven right when Miguel corners you against the wall, eyes red with carnal need and body so warm that it is more akin to flames about to burn uncontrollably. You're proven right when Miguel seizes you by the shoulders and hunches over to force his lips onto yours, swallowing up the sounds you make and using his strength to still you amidst all of your squirming. You're proven right when he begins to carry you to that disgustingly pristine bedroom of his, ignoring your attempts at escape while his touches and kisses begin to become more feverish and desperate.

Playing dumb did not make Miguel's pent-up desires magically go away. It only simply stalled the inevitable.

"Se siente muy bien—muy apretado.." Miguel pants above you as his hips buck against your skin, rendering you unable to bite back the warbled moans you'd been trying so hard to swallow down. He becomes excited upon hearing your cries, barely able to suppress himself from smothering his body against yours. But he seems to remember that he doesn't have to hold himself back anymore, doesn't have to keep his desire for you at bay.

The last words he whispers before pushing his lips to yours are, "Te amo tanto mi cariño." Miguel moans into your mouth, already drunk on your lips like the lovesick fool he is. Not even a few seconds pass before he's deepening the kiss, furiously invading and exploring every single last inch he could humanly reach. There is no room for oxygen—Miguel is barely even breathing in the kiss, too focused on feeling your lips upon his—and you struggle to take even the simplest of breaths. Even if you try to yank yourself away from the overwhelming kiss, Miguel would just find a way to meld his mouth to yours again.

Your arms are stuck together above your head—laser-red webbing holds them tight together and sturdily to the headboard—and no amount of struggling would do good in loosening your limbs. Miguel keeps your legs spread with his waist, leaving no room for you to kick him away or curl your legs up defensively. It also provides him with the perfect angle in with to animalistically pound into you, burying himself as deep as he can possibly can. When he pulls his hips back, he's quick to push his cock back inside, unwilling to leave your insides for even a second.

Miguel is too big, forcing your insides to accommodate his throbbing shaft as it stretched you far wider than you'd thought to be possible. Even if he had so lovingly spread you out, thick fingers rubbing against your velvet-soft walls, it still wasn't enough to prepare you when he pushed just the swollen tip past sensitive muscles. He tried his best to be gentle and patient, he really did, but the sight of your sniveling expression effortlessly tore his restraint into shreds. He couldn't bring himself to stop the rapid movements of his hips, unable to bite back his desperation to feel your fluttering walls around his thick shaft.

And now he's like a parasite, trying to worm his way into your body, desperate to feel your warmth around him. Relentlessly, he unravels your body bit by bit, not caring for the damage that he leaves behind. He only cares to carve himself into your very soul, merge himself with you until you and him are all but one.

You feel like you're going to die; you can hear your own heartbeat pounding violently inside your head, and your face feels like someone lit it on fire. You're sure that you look like an absolute mess. The worst part is, you can feel ebbs of pleasure eating away at your nerves, leaving you feeling utterly humiliated at how Miguel is forcing your body to so easily surrender to his touch and twisted love. This is the absolute worst.

A shriek escapes from your lips and into the kiss as Miguel drops nearly the entirety of his weight on your body, pushing his fat cock right up into a sensitive spot. On reflex you jerk your head away, breaking the kiss as you let out a broken moan. It takes you a few seconds to realize that you came. You orgasmed. Miguel made you come undone just like that. And you know that he knows. He moans and wheezes, hips moving like a jackhammer as the sudden tightening of your walls forces his own orgasm to come forth quicker.

"Te amo--teamoteamoteamoteamo—" Miguel chants it over and over, endlessly pouring out his love for you in the only way he can before he finally cums. He can feel the way your walls flutter and pulse as they milk him for his worth, and he can see how you snivel and whine from overstimulation. You truly have no idea as to how much you truly affect, how even the simplest action on your part sends his mind and heart into overdrive. You drive him crazy.

Exhausted—no, you know that he's using it as a cover just to shower you in postcoital affections—, he nuzzles himself into the base of your neck, pressing lazy kisses near where your pulse beats rapidly. You shudder against him, the sensations feeling like death clawing against your body, but you're too out of it to even try and push him away, so you're forced to lay there beneath him. He whispers sweet nothings, surely about his endless love for you, but you don't want to hear that. Anything but hearing him spout nonsense about his obsessive love for you.

"Otra vez," he murmurs against your skin, fangs just barely coming close to pressing down on your neck. His cock twitches back to life inside your overstimulated walls, ignoring the pleasurable pain of his own body trying to come down from its high just so he could fuck you senseless again. Miguel pulls away, to drink up the sight of his cariño once more beneath him, your form shivering so adorably—he can feel himself shiver from pure arousal alone. Miguel thinks that you're the most gorgeous person he's ever seen in his damn life.

"Let's go again mi amor."

© latimeriafellfromheaven