#spiderman!au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leonrot · 8 months

Text

— Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Summary: You never thought you'd meet the masked vigilante who protects the streets of New York and you certainly never thought you'd almost die from getting run over by weird rhinoceros.

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Spider-Man!Leon Kennedy x Female!Reader

Tags: descriptions of injuries, hurt/comfort, alternate universe (spider-man)

A/N: this is inspired by this leon bot on c.ai and after rewatching the amazing spiderman i couldn't not write something about it. this is proofread by me yet again so apologies for any mistakes that i missed. also,, i don't believe there's anything suggesting the reader for this is female but i put marked as such anyways because if i write more about spiderman!leon i will end up using female terms and such. speaking of which if you want more spiderman!leon let me know, marvel is another one of my big interests so id love to expand on this idea more!!

Sitting at a table in the diner you and Leon frequent you slump down in your chair, huffing in annoyance as Leon’s voicemail greeting hits your ear.

Hi, this is Leon Kennedy, I can’t come to the phone right now so please leave a message after the beep.

This is the third time you’ve tried calling him this past hour alone, your roommate supposed to have been meeting you at the diner you both frequent multiple times each week. You’re used to him being late, but you’ve been waiting for over an hour and by now he would have usually texted or called to explain why he’s running late.

Wrapping your hand around the glass of water sitting before you, you bring the rim of the glass to your lips, taking a sip as you gaze out the diner’s front windows.

Despite nighttime being on the horizon the streets of Queens are as busy as the rest of New York is, people constantly in a hurry to be somewhere. The inside of the diner is peaceful, the sounds of the conversing patrons a quiet murmur alongside the gentle hum of various machines back in the kitchen.

A barely started book lays before you, Leon’s tardiness having drawn your attention from the pages. It’s common that you join him at the diner to read while he catches up on work. You find comfort in being in his presence, even if his attention is focused on editing some of the numerous photos he’s taken recently.

As your mind drifts and you lose focus of your surroundings you don’t realize the mood around you shifting rapidly.

“Holy shit!” A guy sitting a table away from you yells, startling you out of your thoughts.

You glance his way confused, but a loud bang and the sudden surge of shouting has your head snapping back towards the diner’s front windows.

The people outside are running, the fear on their face as clear as day. The table you’re sitting at starts shaking, the ground underneath your feet vibrating in time with the rhythmic BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! that is steadily getting closer and closer. It sets everyone into an explosive panic, people trying to gather their things before darting out of the diner.

You’re quick to shove your book into the bag that hangs off the back of your chair, the force of you standing up nearly knocking the aforementioned piece of furniture over. You squeeze past people as you rush to exit the building, heart racing at everyone else’s fear. Skidding to a halt on the sidewalk outside your gaze is drawn to the left, looking down the street.

Cars are swerving all over the road, desperate to get away from something. Something big.

A huge man in a metal rhinoceros shaped suit comes barreling down the road, everything around him shaking with each heavy step he takes. There’s something — more like someone — hanging onto his back, a flash of red and blue bright against dark gray metal. You immediately recognize the colors belonging to New York’s very own masked vigilante, Spider-Man.

You’re frozen in place, wide eyes watching the scene unfold before you. Spider-Man leaps off the back of the man (if he can still even be called that), shooting web after web towards the rampaging villain. It does very little to slow him down and you realize a moment too soon that the swerving monstrosity of a man is heading straight your way.

Your bag dropping to the concrete sidewalk is the only movement you’re able to make, fear rendering you paralyzed. As he gets closer and closer you can’t help but think that this will be the end of you, death by rhino shaped man.

Luckily for you, Spider-Man is incredibly good at his job.

Lean arms wrap around your waist and lift you off the ground, swinging you away from the quickly approaching danger. The Rhino barrels past, his metal clad shoulder connecting with Spider-Man’s back as he gains momentum with his web swing, sending the two of you flying down the street.

You don’t know if it’s fast reflexes or pure luck that has your red and blue hero curling around your body before the two of you connect with the asphalt road, his back taking the brunt of the fall. The air is ripped from your lungs at the impact, your head swimming with dizziness as you’re quickly yanked to your feet.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Spider-Man franticly asks you, his head lowering as he tries to meet your gaze.

Your muscles are screaming at you from the impact, you’re short of breath and you’re sure you have at least one or two scrapes from the rough road but you’re alive. You glance up at his mask’s white scleras and nod.

You see a slight shift in the fabric of his mask, as if he’s opening his mouth to start speaking up but a thundering roar cuts him off. The Rhino is pulling himself out of the rubble of the diner, his sights quickly settling on the two of you.

“Stay out of the way!” Spider-Man yells to you as he runs straight towards the villain.

The fight picks up once more, Spider-Man getting thrown and tossed around but getting up immediately each time. You’re so enraptured by the fight you don’t even notice the cops arrive until a hand is wrapping around your bicep and pulling you away from the destruction.

“You need to get out of here!” The cop barks at you. “Now!”

“So I can’t get a ride?” You grumble, watching the officer run to join the others in the fight.

As you quickly leave the scene you can’t help but spare a glance over your shoulder, watching Spider-Man swing around from building to building evading dodges like he knows they’re coming. Turning away you pick up the pace, thankful that you only live a handful of blocks away from the now destroyed cafe.

After roughly an hour of walking - although it feels longer due to the dull pain throbbing all over your body - you make it home. You barely remember to close the door before you’re dropping onto the couch, letting sleep pull you under.

You shoot up from where you lay sprawled out on the couch, the sound of the front door slamming shut startling you awake. Disoriented you whip your head around, eyes not yet focused.

“Oh my god, are you okay!?” Leon’s voice is right next to you, his knees hitting the wood floor of the living room with a dull thud.

As your vision sharpens you’re finally able to take in Leon’s appearance. Your eyes widen in surprise and concern at his poor state.

“Are you okay? Jesus Leon, what happened to you?”

His left eye is a mottled mess of dark blues and purples, the black eye stark against his skin. The bruising trails down his cheek and jaw, stopping near his split bottom lip, spots of blood still fresh around the wound.

“You first. Do you need anything? Water? Advil?” He’s standing with a pained wince, limping in the direction of the kitchen.

“Leon! Slow down!” You snap, throwing your legs over the edge of the couch as you get up after him, biting back your own groan of pain.

He’s grabbing a cup out of the cabinet when you make it into the kitchen, filling it up with shaky hands. When you reach his side you grab the cup out of his hand and set it down onto the counter. You grab onto his arm to get his attention. When he finally looks at you his eyes are shiny, wet with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry.”

Your heart breaks at the sadness in his voice.

“If I had been there on time you wouldn’t have been alone in that shit show, probably wouldn’t even be hurt right now.”

Despite the protesting of your muscles you’re quick to pull him into a hug which is immediately reciprocated. His arms wrap around your waist drawing you in tight to his chest. He drops his head to your shoulder, warmth seeping into the fabric of your t-shirt as he sucks in a harsh breath.

“I’m alright, Leon. A little banged up and bruised, but alive. You being late is not the reason I got hurt, it was simply wrong place wrong time.”

Your hand rubs up and down his back in a gesture of comfort, hoping the contact helps ease his misplaced guilt. Your hands trail up his back and over his shoulders, each hand settling on one of his biceps as you pull away.

“Now tell me what happened to you.”

With a sniffle he blinks away stray tears as he meets your eyes. A lapse of silence fills the room before he speaks.

“I was on my way to you. Got caught up in the fight before it reached the diner.”

His words still hold a trace of guilt in them, but you chalk it up to him still feeling like he’s responsible for the state you’re in.

You give him a small smile, hoping to ease the heavy emotions residing in the room with as you say, “Guess you were also in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

It works when Leon rolls his eyes, a smile of his own tugging at his lips. “Guess so.”

Pulling away from him you grab the cup still sitting on the counter and hand it to Leon. Bending down you unearth a med-kit that’s kept underneath the sink. You’ve always found it a little odd how Leon insists on keeping fully stocked first aid kits all over the house — one in the kitchen, one in each bathroom and in each of your rooms — but you’re glad for it in this moment as you open it and pull out the advil.

You open the bottle and pass him two of the pills before grabbing your own cup of water and two pills for yourself.

“As someone who has watched half a season of Grey’s Anatomy, I think we should take these and get some sleep.” Your light-hearted words help ease the tension even more.

After taking the pain relievers you and Leon trudge to your respective rooms to get ready for the night. Cutting your nighttime routine short in favor of getting into bed faster, you make quick but careful work of changing out of your clothes and brushing your teeth. A brush is running through your hair as a knock echoes through the small bathroom you’re standing in.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

Leon’s leaning against the doorway of the bathroom when you finally look up at him.

“Maybe. What’s up?”

He shuffles a bit where he stands and he averts his gaze before he speaks.

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

You can’t help the way your eyes widen a fraction at his request.

It was about a year ago when you found an online ad of someone looking for a roommate. You were hesitant to agree, Leon was of course a stranger at the time, but you were in desperate need of a new place to live so you sent him a message pretty quickly to see if he was still searching for a roommate.

He had warned you the first night after you moved in that he had frequent nightmares. As the two of you got closer and closer overtime you went from waking him up with a gentle shake to his shoulder to crawling into bed with him, holding him close to help him fall back asleep after waking up in fear.

He’s never been the one to seek you out in regards to his nightmares however, and his request leads you to believe he anticipates having one tonight. Sadness squeezes at your heart.

“Of course you can.”

Still not looking at you he nods in acknowledgement before turning and leaving your room, you assume to go finish up getting ready to sleep.

He comes back into your room right as your crawling into bed. No longer wearing the hoodie he was in when he came home you can see even more bruises on his arms. You wouldn’t be surprised if the bruises extend across his torso, leading you to wonder just how caught up he was in the destruction caused by Rhino.

He’s hovering by the doorway as if he’s unsure he’s even allowed in your room despite having your permission. You throw back the comforter, uncovering the spot meant for him.

“C’mon Lee, it’s cold.”

It’s not really that cold in your room but the excuse helps nonetheless.

The mattress dips as he gets into your bed. Reaching up you flip off your bedside lamp, plunging the room in almost total darkness. The world seems to slow down as the two of you find safety in each others presence.

“Goodnight.” You murmur with a soft yawn, squirming around a little bit to find a comfortable way to lay with your aching muscles.

You can’t help but momentarily roll over onto your back as you get no reply from Leon. When your eyes adjust to darkness of your room you see him curled up tightly under the blanket, fast asleep. You smile to yourself as you roll back over and let sleep encompass you as quickly as it did Leon.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil leon kennedy #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy #resident evil #spiderman!au

224 notes · View notes

blossom-hwa · 4 months

Text

memory lane | j.yh

I'm nearly two years late but in my defense I had this written for months already, I was just too lazy to create a graphic for it until now. anyway, this was sparked by the memory lane trip that dr. strange took in multiverse of madness - there are definitely spoilers (check the warnings below) and this story might be confusing if you haven't seen the dr. strange and spiderman movies so keep that in mind!

I made some changes to the plots of both movies, so bear this in mind - y/n instead of mingi (ned's counterpart) is the one with sorcery potential and later joins dr. strange at the sanctum, so y/n is the one who goes universe hopping with america chavez and ends up replaying memories they'd forgotten from when dr. strange erased all memories of spiderman (yunho). this story takes place after they've defeated wanda and returned to the sanctum. this should sum up the biggest changes, hope it helps :)

Pairing: Yunho x gender neutral!reader

Genre: angst (happy ending), Spiderman!au

Warnings: spoilers for the last Dr. Strange and Spiderman movies

Word Count: 5.3k

When you return to the Sanctum, armed with a name and the knowledge of a love you don't remember, you go searching for answers.

Ateez Masterlist

When the dust has cleared at Mount Wungadore and they’ve all made it back to the Sanctum, it takes Strange a few hours to realize that there’s something wrong with his apprentice. Not just the exhaustion, not just the trauma of universe hopping and fighting the most powerful witch in all of the infinite number of universes in existence—that would be normal. This is something different. Something darker.

Something more broken.

“Dr. Strange,” you say later that night when it’s just the two of you, everyone else gone to bed. Flames crackle in the fireplace, glowing weirdly on your face. “Do you remember what happened with Spiderman?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Spiderman?” He knows you were there, remembers that’s how he became aware of your potential for sorcery, but you’ve never really talked about it.

“Yeah.”

He tells you what he remembers. A spell, rips in the universe, a vigilante who wouldn’t let the aberrations die. The mirror dimension, hanging over the Grand Canyon for way too fucking long, and a second spell to right the wrongs of the first.

You take it all in silence, not a single question asked until the end. “Do you remember what the second spell was?”

He looks at you. You don’t look back.

“No.”

“…Okay.”

He ends up leaving first, exhaustion pulling his eyelids down to the point he can barely keep them open as he climbs up the Sanctum’s stairs. He tells you to rest, and you nod, but he’s still not quite certain you heard.

You probably didn’t. Because in the morning when he wakes, you’re gone, only a text left on his phone to give any clue as to where you went.

Gone to visit a friend. I’ll be back. I’m fine.

Please don’t follow me.

. . . . .

Standing in front of the apartment door, an arm raised to knock, you feel like time has been frozen still.

“Memory Lane. Replay your significant memories, now at a discounted price! We remember, so you don’t forget.”

A boy in the spider-suit, face bloodied, eyes broken. A wavering smile on his lips that couldn’t disguise the tears rolling down his face. Hugging you and Mingi with arms so strong but trembling so much you could—you could almost feel them shaking around your shoulders. Eyes zeroing in on the wound on your head, a short gash that left the scar you could never for your life remember where it came from—

He saw it. And asked about it. And heard your babbled reassurances, instinctively steadying you on your bad leg (how did he know? How did he know if you never knew him?) as you and Mingi tried to speak, before saying the words you don’t remember.

“You’re going to forget who I am.”

You swallow hard, trying to reconcile the smiling boy you’d met during your third fight ever with the broken, bloodied man standing before you in that moment. They had the same suit—nearly. Not quite. But they had the same face. The same eyes.

And though you didn’t have a name then, now you do.

“I love you.”

“I love you, Yunho Jeong.”

You loved a boy whose name you don’t know. And he—

He loved you too.

Nausea rolls in your stomach. Your arm has begun to ache from holding it up for so long, but you can’t bring yourself to knock. What if he refuses to hear you? What if he doesn’t want you to remember, doesn’t want you to ask? What if he just isn’t home? You don’t know if you could find the courage to come back again. You can already feel the adrenaline high of the past few days beginning to fade, that initial burst of anger and courage (or was it foolishness? Right now you can’t quite tell) falling away to reveal your confused and broken core.

Your sight blurs, the four numbers marking Spiderman’s door (Yunho’s door, your brain corrects you, and it’s unsettling how easily the name seems to roll off the tongue of your mind though you know you never knew it until the trip down Memory Lane) swimming in your vision. One zero two four. You remember it from the day you walked him back, one of his arms slung around your shoulders, one leg broken and propped up by a cast of your own magic.

The moment had felt—familiar, you remember. Vaguely. At least in the way his tired laughs left his lips, in the way he joked about the villain who had left him in this state, in the way he thanked you as he lay on his bed, the magic cast fizzling out of sight, his reassurance that he’d be healed by morning. It had felt easy, somehow. Like you’d done this before, or something similar.

At the time, you’d brushed it off as Spiderman’s charisma with everybody. The times you interacted with him, watched him fend off villains and help the elderly cross the sidewalk in just two breaths showed you enough. That infectious laugh, the witty barbs, his charming easiness with every person he encountered, villain or no, weren’t special somethings reserved for you, which you reminded yourself in the moments you thought that might be true.

But maybe it was true. That trip down memory lane told you that you knew him even before you did. Knew Spiderman, knew him deeply, knew him well enough to know his name, Yunho Jeong—

Knew him enough that you could kiss him and tell him you loved him, twice, even without the promise of a response.

“Wait. Wait and tell me when you see me again.”

He’d promised. With a nod, and a smile, and words said before that you know from the memory but still don’t remember. He’d said it, sworn it—

“It’s okay. I’m gonna come and find you and—and I’ll explain everything. I’ll make you remember me.” A deep, rattling breath. “And it’ll be like none of this ever happened.”

Yet he never came to find you. For what reason, you don’t know. But you found him. Over and over, you found him—during fights, on trips to the bodega, several times in the Sanctum. And he never said anything.

The ache of a memory that is yours but isn’t thuds dully in your chest. You need to know if it was real. And it if was…

You need to know why he never returned.

Your knuckles rap the door sharply—once, twice, three times. Something clangs and there’s a loud curse in a voice you properly remember, not just know from your trip down memory lane.

Footsteps sound. Something clicks in the door. You have just one moment to prepare yourself before it swings open—

Yunho Jeong’s face stares at you, confused, kind, smiling. If you hadn’t been watching so carefully, you would’ve missed the millisecond of hope and panic that flashed across his eyes that confirms everything you’ve conjectured so far.

You’re not sure how to feel about it.

“Good morning?” He laughs a little, and he’s so good at acting—so damn good, did he take acting classes before? Not that you would’ve known since you only got that one significant memory before you shoved America Chavez on, but you want to grab his shoulders and shake him hard enough to tug those memories loose and plant them back in your own damn head—

“Yunho Jeong.” You take a step forward. “We have a lot to talk about.”

. . . . .

His eyes are guarded when he lets you in the door, but he lets you sit on the couch before he lets loose with a question, more of a statement, of his own. “You know my name.”

You probe his gaze carefully. For once, it flickers as you stare at him, a shard of that steady, easy confidence he’s always had (was there a time he didn’t have it? Were you there when that was the case?) chipped and dropped into somewhere unknown. He doesn’t flinch away, though, not like you originally expected him to.

Maybe it isn’t just paranoia and caution behind those guarded walls, your mind whispers. Maybe there’s a bit of hope, too.

The thought is too much for you to handle, so for all your original bravado you’re the one who looks away first. “I do.”

Spiderman’s—Yunho’s—voice nearly trembles with how carefully he measures his next word. “How?”

You take a deep breath. How do you even start?

“I recently took a…trip, of sorts, with Dr. Strange.” Not really—it was more so just with America, but Spiderman doesn’t know America and you probably shouldn’t be telling anyone about her until Dr. Strange gives the okay. “Went universe hopping. Mostly unintentionally.” Ignoring Spiderman’s—Yunho, Jesus fucking Christ—sharp intake of breath, you continue. “One of them had a curious feature called Memory Lane. For a price, it would replay your most significant memories.” You swallow. “I got a…free trial, of sorts.”

The silence that follows your statement hangs heavily in the air. Never, not once in the time you’ve known him (at least not the second time you knew him, if the first time even existed) did you think Yunho (it’s still strange how not strangely the name flows through your mind) could have let such a tension weigh the conversation—he’s always been so charismatic, so ready to smile and laugh and joke away any heaviness that came. Hell, even when he had a leg snapped into so many pieces only a cast of glowing golden threads was holding it together, he wore a smile on the way back. But in the face of your words, Yunho’s head has fallen, the strong shoulders tensed to snap, his clasped hands trembling underneath his chin…

He looks up, straight at you. His eyes have fragmented and the shards you see in them frightens you—that’s just not a look that belongs on Yunho’s face. He looks ten, twenty, thirty years older than he is (your age, he’d told you with the perfect amount of surprise and warmth on his face the day you’d told him, the first time you’d had more than a few minutes to get to know each other more), with the tortured memories of someone who’s lived through millennia. And, you realize with a pang, there’s a reason for that. Because if you forgot him, if Mingi forgot him, how many others did?

And if you meant so much to him in that life you don’t remember, how much has he had to keep to himself in order to keep you from knowing?

“What did you see?” he asks quietly, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles have turned white. “If it’s okay to tell me, of course.”

Tears bubble in the corners of your eyes. That gentleness, that consideration, feels so warm. So very warm and familiar.

“I was with you. And Mingi. We were hugging.” You swallow. “You looked…beat up, but you still asked about a wound on my head.”

Yunho’s gaze flutters in the direction you knew it’d go, just to the side of your right eyebrow. Your fingers itch to rise, to touch the scarred flesh that’s still there, but you hold your twitching hands still.

“And then you said we were going to forget who you were.”

He goes still at that, still as a statue. It’s funny—there have been a few times where you mused, internally of course, that Yunho’s face—just Spiderman at the time—could have been sculpted by one of the gods, should they exist. A beaming statue of a hero, waiting for thousands to thank and worship him. But now, as he stares at you with no expression on his face, stone still and truly a human statue if there ever was one…

You promise yourself never to make the statue comparison again, because the warm Yunho, the alive Yunho, is the only one you’d ever want to know.

Swallowing hard, you open your mouth. And close it. Not because you don’t know what to say, because you do—it’s just recounting a memory that isn’t yours, basically a scene from a movie, how hard could it be—but because when you try to speak, you can’t. Your voice is gone.

Yunho’s eyes are shiny. A little too shiny. And there’s a little too much hope in them, now, a hope that makes you want to dig yourself into a hole and have someone cover up the dirt behind you. Because—it’s not right, that hope, it’s not right because you know what Yunho wants isn’t what happened.

He speaks first. “You…remember?”

“I—” You dig your fingernails into your palms so hard it hurts. “I don’t.”

His face falls. Crumbles. And this time, unlike all the other times you didn’t understand before when he’d see you and you’d do something—anything—and his face would do something strange for a second before his easy smile came back up—

He doesn’t try to pull it back together.

“I—saw it.” Your mouth moves on autopilot, trying to patch up a situation you’re not sure you can but anything, anything to bring something back to Yunho’s face. Even the terrible hope was better than this. “I saw it—and—I can’t say I remember it, exactly, because I don’t, but it—it felt like it explained things.”

Yunho looks up. Just barely. But he does.

“You—I’m comfortable with you.” Once it’s out in the open, you realize how stupid it sounds, but you barge forward because who the fuck cares anymore. “And I know—I know a lot of people probably say that, but—even at that first fight, it was like…it was like I knew you a little. Somehow. Even though to my knowledge I had never seen you before.” You wince at how that must sound but Yunho doesn’t, his eyes now fixated more firmly on yours. “A lot of things felt…familiar. Just stuff like your laugh. Smile. The way we could banter and talk and I—just—fuck!” Your own vehemence startles you and you slap your palms to your eyes and to your surprise, you find tears meeting your skin.

Damn it, you really hadn’t intended to cry when you came here.

“Y/N?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, scrub at your eyes with the heels of your palms. “I’m sorry,” you say, and wow your voice sounds so much more ragged than you thought it was. “I’m sorry. I—it all sounds stupid. I don’t know how to explain it. I just know that…sometimes, being around you felt like déjà vu. In some weird way.” The lump in your throat seems bent on returning so you swallow hard again. “The memory that I saw. It made some things, like that, make sense. But other things didn’t.”

“…What didn’t?”

It takes everything left in you to meet Yunho’s gaze. The adrenaline rush of yesterday’s fight has finally faded away fully and you think you might collapse soon, but you force your voice to remain steady even as a stray tear makes it cold way down your cheek.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

. . . . .

For a long moment, Yunho doesn’t speak.

“I…was going to tell you,” he finally says. “I was. When you still had your job at the diner, I was going to go in and…tell you everything. Like I’d promised to. I was—” He laughs a little, broken and fragmented. “I was right outside. I could see you. Mingi was at the counter, too.”

There were many days like those. You’re not sure which one this was. “I didn’t see you.”

“No, you didn’t,” Yunho agrees. “But I saw you. And I saw your scar.”

This time, you can’t stop your hand from touching the warped skin on your forehead.

Yunho’s eyes track the movement. “I had a whole speech written out, you know.” That same broken, fragmented laugh from before. “It was on a piece of paper. I was going to read it to you two. But I saw your scar and…you were laughing. You looked so happy. I couldn’t ruin that.” He smiles a little, but it doesn’t reach his eyes at all. “When you knew I was Spiderman, all it did was cause you pain. And harm.”

You open your mouth to refute, but you can’t. Because you don’t remember anything. Not at all.

“Something happened to just about everyone I cared about who knew my secret.” Yunho’s voice drops. “So I thought it would be better if you didn’t know. It would be better if no one knew. Just the way it was after that day.”

“But—Yunho, I—” Words trip over your tongue and for a moment you still can’t speak, not for lack of thought but for too much. “We—you didn’t give us a choice. How did you know we wouldn’t—”

“You were at the battle.” Yunho’s words cut through your own like a knife and you almost flinch. “A battle I caused because I was an idiot. You don’t remember what happened, do you?”

Slowly, you shake your head.

“I went to Dr. Strange with a request. To wipe everyone’s memory of the fact that Yunho Jeong and Spiderman were one and the same. So many shit things had happened to me—and us—because of Mysterio’s stupid fucking video. College admissions, people taking potshots at us across the street…” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “He almost did. But I kept interrupting with exceptions. People I still wanted to remember me. You. Mingi. Aunt Mei. Happy. And that…that messed the spell up.”

You sit silent, quiet as Yunho tells you about the multiverse, about the other villains who knew him but whom he’d never faced—at least not in this world. He tells you about Aunt Mei, how Osborn had found her, how she’d pressed it into him that all of them needed help, not just to be sent back to their respective universes to die, and how he’d decided she was right.

She had been right, Yunho stresses. But she’d paid for it. With her life.

There, Yunho stops talking for a moment. Puts his hands over his face and breathes deeply once, twice. When he finally looks up, his eyes look redder.

“I’m sorry.” You wince as soon as you say the words, how flat they fall in the silence. But the thing is—you knew Mei. Somewhat. You remember her face, her smile, her burned cookies—you remember her, if not necessarily her nephew. She was a good woman, one of the kindest people you’d ever had the luck to meet. “I…remembered her. Somewhat. Probably not as much as I would have…before, but…”

“Yeah,” is all Yunho says. “Yeah.”

He continues. Two Spidermen, two Yunho Jeongs from separate universes. They looked nothing like him and apparently you summoned them with rings stolen from Dr. Strange himself (so maybe some things are best left not remembered, because if Dr. Strange doesn’t remember this you’re not sure you want him to). Back in their own worlds, they’d faced the villains he’d failed to corral here. They worked together and there was a fight at the Statue of Liberty and you and Mingi were tasked with keeping the unbroken spell safe from Norman Osborn and later, Dr. Strange, too.

You failed.

“Osborn freed the spell,” Yunho says, grief and fury etched in every line of his face. “Broke the casing with one of his stupid little toys. And so all these people—villains, friends, I don’t know—from other universes started coming into ours. Dr. Strange couldn’t contain them.”

You’re starting to feel a little faint. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Yunho breathes. “There was only one way to fix it. Everyone had to forget Yunho Jeong.” His eyes bore into yours.

Forget feeling faint. You think you’re about to be sick. “Everyone.”

“Everyone,” he repeats. A little dark laugh falls from his lips. “No exceptions this time.”

For a long moment, you sit in silence. All of this information—your brain was already exhausted from universe hopping and dealing with a crazy, grief-driven witch, and you got maybe three hours of sleep last night before you found your way here—it’s so much. Almost too much. Maybe you should’ve waited to confront Yunho, should’ve given it a couple of days of thinking before coming here all tongue-tied and stupid—

“But—Yunho. You promised to tell us. You promised to tell me and Mingi.” You can feel your face scrunching up like you’re about to cry again and you don’t need that, don’t need that right now at fucking all. “You could’ve told us—you didn’t have to go through this alone—”

“Yes, I did,” Yunho snaps. “It was my fault. All of this was my fault—”

“No, it fucking wasn’t!” you retort. “It was Mysterio’s fault—hell, it was mine and Mingi’s for not protecting the stupid spell enough—”

“No, it was mine, for trying to change something that couldn’t have been changed!” he yells. “I got the villains into our universe because I couldn’t think of anything beyond our fucking college admissions! I did a fuck up job of keeping the villains in line! I got Mei killed, I got you and Mingi injured, I caused so much trouble for Dr. Strange because I wasn’t thinking—”

“You were a kid!” you yell back. “We all were! Barely fucking eighteen! Not even college students, not even legal adults! And—Yunho! I may not remember anything, but I do fucking know that we never would’ve been coerced or something into helping you. You wouldn’t have done that! If we were helping you in that fight, it was because we agreed to, because we wanted to!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Yunho snaps. “It doesn’t matter that you wanted to! Because in the end, this was a fight that I started and that I should have ended myself! Instead, I got a whole bunch of other people involved and people were injured for it, people—people died for it, Y/N.” His face crumples, and he turns away.

All the fight leaves your body. You reach towards him, slowly take his hands in yours. To your surprise, he doesn’t tug them away.

“I wasn’t going to get you and Mingi killed off because I wanted you back,” Yunho whispers. “My fights were going to be on my terms and only mine. I know you fight now, as Dr. Strange’s apprentice—don’t bring that up with me. Those fights are your choices and on your terms.” Teary eyes look into yours and you can barely fight the urge to brush the wetness away. “It kills me to watch it happen, but that’s your choice. And I can’t interfere with that.” He takes a deep breath. “But I can interfere with the stuff that shouldn’t happen because it’s my fault.”

The anger starts to rise up in you once more. “You didn’t give either of us a choice in deciding that—”

“Right before Aunt Mei died, she told me something.” Yunho’s hands tremble in yours. “She said, ‘With great power, there must also come great responsibility.’”

You swallow hard.

“I don’t think I ever understood until then,” he says quietly. “Sure, I’d always known I had power, and I tried to use it well by being the friendly neighborhood Spiderman, you know. Protecting the little guy while others fight the big battles. But the responsibility…my lack of that is what started this whole thing in the first place.” Yunho swallows. “When I saw you and Mingi in the diner, and I made that choice. That was my responsibility. I wasn’t going to purposefully involve anyone else in my fights, my issues. Not now. Not anymore.”

One of his hands releases itself from yours. It rises toward the puckered scar, brushes it with a gentle touch. His fingertips tremble against your skin. “Do you know how you got this?” he asks, whisper soft.

Slowly, you shake your head.

“One of Osborn’s…gadgets, sliced you.” Yunho takes a deep, shaky breath, and you grip his hand harder. “And because of that, you—you fell. Right off the statue.”

You couldn’t speak right now, not even if you tried.

“You fell.” The words seem to rip themselves from Yunho’s throat and he looks away, his free hand covering his face for one, two awful moments before he turns back to you. “You fell, and I tried to catch you but Osborn knocked me out of the way midair, and it—it was only a miracle that one of the other Spidermen caught you. A miracle,” he repeats, almost as though he still doesn’t believe it.

This time you do reach up to brush the tears from his eyes. The movement feels so remarkably natural that you have to wonder how many times you made the same motion in a time before.

“I saw you with the scar. And suddenly I was there, watching you fall with no way to stop it.” Yunho squeezes his eyes shut. “I couldn’t have that happen again. Not to you. Not to anyone.”

His eyes open, and between the tears, all you can see is the certainty of his choice weighing dark in his pupils.

“Not because of me.”

. . . . .

Silence falls in Yunho’s studio apartment. The sun has risen, slats of pale light filtering through his windows, illuminating his face. In the glow of morning, Yunho’s young face only looks older.

And suddenly you feel guilty. So very guilty. You came to his apartment unannounced with a name in one hand, news you were certain he wouldn’t like in the other, and caused him pain. That was it. You forced him to relive all these memories, made him explain things he perhaps wasn’t ready to speak of, and yelled at him for a choice you’re not sure you would’ve made differently had you been in the same situation.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, throat suddenly choked. You drop his hands and step back, desperately trying to swallow your tears. “I—I shouldn’t have come.” Yunho’s eyebrows furrow, but you refuse to look at him. “It wasn’t my place to demand answers of you and I shouldn’t have yelled—”

“Y/N.”

This time it’s his hands that take yours, large and warm and gentle. You look down at your joined fingers, then up at his face. If you had loved each other as much as your memory would have you believe, this must have been a common occurrence.

No wonder it feels so safe.

“I don’t blame you,” he says, and it’s the steadiness of his gaze that convinces you he speaks true. “You had questions, and no one else you knew had answers.”

“Even so.” You blink a tear away. “Even so, Yunho.”

“No.” He grips your hands more tightly. “Do you know how I felt after I saw you the first time after? When you showed up with Dr. Strange in the middle of fighting the drakon?” You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off. “I was terrified, obviously, but watching you…” Yunho looks down at your joined hands and you think he’s going to start crying again, but when he looks back up, there’s a smile on his face despite the faint tears in his eyes. “It was good to see you, Y/N. Just so…good.”

You look down at your hands. Back up at Yunho’s face.

Eyes so soft with tears, so warm they could melt.

“I was happy to see you,” he says quietly, and for all his words are unbelievable you have to believe them because of the way he says them. “So happy. I mean—I’d made the decision. And I’d come to terms with that I probably would never see you again, or at least never be close with you again. But seeing you then, healthy and happy and just—you—”

A choked noise escapes your throat. Something like a laugh. Something like a sob.

“I thought I’d gotten over it, you know.” Yunho smiles and it’s beautiful and broken and brittle, echoes of joy bittersweet on his lips. “Thought that I’d be able to move on. And I did, in a way, but before I thought that I would forget it all. I thought that I could. But that moment just showed me that I’d really never be able to, and that I would be okay with it. Because seeing you like that—it was good, Y/N.” The smile grows. “Even now, seeing you in front of me like this…”

Oh. Oh, damn.

You’d thought that you were all cried out, but your eyes betray you once more. A headache is starting to build up in the back of your head but you force yourself to focus, to decipher Yunho’s words for what they are. “So—” You swallow. Try to speak. “Do—do you—”

“I still love you,” he says quietly. “Every time I see you, it feels like I’m a little more whole.”

Your face burns. “I—”

“You don’t have to say anything right now.” Yunho smiles, and even on his teary face he looks so handsome, so steady, and if it’s true that you were in love with him before it’s not difficult to understand why. “I know it’s a lot, and that you’ve only just begun to figure some things out. I’m not looking for an answer when I tell you this.” He takes a deep breath. “I just wanted you to know.”

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence. You look at your interlaced fingers, think about how natural it feels to have his hands in yours, to have come to him in this hour of answers and need. Briefly you think of Mingi, and it doesn’t surprise you to think that they could’ve been good friends too.

“I’m not…closed off. To anything.” You swallow hard, looking back up at Yunho. “Yet, at least. I can’t say I—that I love you, not now, but I do believe I loved you once, and I could be there again. Someday.”

Yunho’s eyes fill with tears again, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I just.” Tears of your own start to squeeze down your cheeks, past your lips and chin. “I don’t know if I will ever remember everything,” you finally warn, voice wobbly. “I think it’s more likely that I won’t. But if you’re willing, even then…”

“It’s okay.” Yunho’s smile is warm, and it’s what finally sends the rest of the tears spilling out of your eyes. “This is more than I ever could have hoped for in my life.”

“I want to remember,” you choke. “I want to remember, I want to so badly—”

“I do too,” he says, pulling you into his chest. His warm heartbeat thumps quietly against yours and you take comfort in its steady pace, one, two, one, two. “But even if you don’t, I want you to know that’s okay. And it always will be.”

“…How do you know?”

Yunho’s arms, warm around your body. His hold so gentle yet so firm, so safe and steady as he murmurs reassurances in your ear.

“Because,” he says, pulling away. You look up at him with your sticky, aching eyes, feel all of your trust in him only grow as he smiles.

“Because we can always make more memories of our own.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

97 notes · View notes

adellovesrowan · 2 years

Text

"alright, guys, let's do this one last time. my name is adel young. i was bitten by a radioactive spider. and for the last two years, i've been the one — and only — spider-girl. you guys know the rest."

"i work at the diner, go to school, save a buncha people — but i couldn't save my sister. so, i stick to saving everyone else. also, my two best friends want me dead on a flaming stick. crazy, right? guess that's the life of a hero."

alternatively, au where adel is your friendly neighborhood spidergirl.

#hey guys sorry i havent been active first month of college is rly tough #i finally have the time to relax for a bit and draw something for myself as a reward #anyway my friends and i talked abt a spiderverse!au so heres adel #her hero name is icebreaker ! the radioactive spider that bit her either got infused with nitrogen or spent its entire life in a freezer /j #but like her name she has frost powers among common spidey abilities ! she cant rly conjure ice out of nowhere but she manipulates water p #particles to freeze into ice !#i based her design off an ice skater bc i feel like she'd oftentimes glide on water that she frosted and froze #also mentioned sister is kat ! surprise !!!! <3 ( i am so heartbroken over this )#also you would never guess who the two betrayed best friends are. because theyre definitely not rowan and ben #maybe ill draw rowan in all their glory. if i have the time to again dknfmdnd !! but back to college assignments now #adel young #jacob's sibling #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #spiderman!au #spiderverse!au #icebreaker!au #fanart #mine

39 notes · View notes

impscar · 2 years

Text

spideran!!!! spiderman!!!! spiderboo!!!!

/r beeduoo!!!!

#fic promo #ranboo #dsmp #tubbo #c!ranboo #c!tubbo #dream #c!dream #endersmile #c!endersmile #beeduo #c!beeduo #spiderman!au #dsmp au #dsmp fix

22 notes · View notes

meandtheyeehaws · 11 months

Text

they are friends they are friends they are friends

#mikeys fit is from my streetartist!mikey au cuz i thought itd... fit #my art #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt movie #michelangelo #rottmnt mikey #mikey #mikey streetartist au #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman into the spiderverse #miles morales

24K notes · View notes

kaysdenofchaos · 9 months

Text

Across the Turtle-verse

Your honor they’re silly <3

~~~~

COMMISSION INFO

14K notes · View notes

leglessstreetlights · 1 month

Text

peter's great at making friends

#rottmnt #rise leo #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt comic #peter parker #spiderman #spider man fanart #crossover #they're so stupid #i love them #leonardo hamato #spider turtles au

3K notes · View notes

jen-iii · 1 year

Photo

I made a Spiderman!Enid AU thread on Twitter so I drew it lmfao

Her name is WolfSpider (duh) and her costume is BLINDING and she owns her own fan blog where she takes her own pictures ala the OG Peter Parker

Wednesday found out her secret identity the literal first day they became roommates and for the longest time didn’t say anything because she found it fascinating how someone so BAD at keeping their identity a secret could still REMAIN a secret.

Later on when the reveal happened (and subsequent confession) Wednesday would help Enid track down whatever the next villains plan was and they become an unstoppable due

#wednesday #wednesday netflix #wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #spiderman au #wolfspider au #my art #also enid shoegame is peak #but she doesnt know it she just buys what looks cute

29K notes · View notes

tanuki-pyon · 1 year

Text

Spider Enid :)

#my art #fanart #digital art #drawings #wednesday netflix #wednesday #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #spiderman #spiderman au #nyehehehehehe

32K notes · View notes

fansids · 10 months

Text

On their way to go annoy Miguel <3

(Ft. Meows Morales, Guin Stacy, Rabbitr Prabhakar, Margo Kestrel, and Yotie Brown)

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman across the verse #miles morales #gwen stacy #pavitr prabhakar #hobie brown #margo kess #meows morales #spider byte #spider punk #spiderman india #this took an ungodly amount of time to do #Margo especially #speaking of which stop excluding my girl Margo out of the spiderteens #don't know what to call this...universe? ...au?#maybe meows n friends or something like that idk #myart #edit: got rid of some negative space

9K notes · View notes

tarjapearce · 6 months

Text

Dr. Michael Stone

Mad Scientist variant! Miguel O'Hara x Spider!f! Reader

art by @Spiderthingcoo on X

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Smut, Breeding Kink, Mild dub-con, Oral sex (F receiving), possessive behaviors, rough electroplay, Questionable morals, Dark Miguel, manhandling, yandere scientist (I guess?) P in V, isolation, edging, female anatomy, Nipple play, dumbification, Michael Stone is a walking redflag. No proofread, objectification, power play.

Summary: From all the variants of Miguel you could've encountered, you met him.

A|N: Inspired by @Spiderthingcoo and Halloween ✨

Pt. 2

Clink

The sound repetitive and echoing in your hazy mind, luring you out of the slumber you had been forced to. Eyes heavy with something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

A sharp inhale gave you enough courage to part your lids enough to reckon your surroundings. Blurry and wet eyesight slowly came into a focus and clear view of where you were. A lab.

How had you ended up here? Where was Miguel? Why wasn't Lyla making fun of your passing?

The explosion, of course.

A weakened groan escaped past dry and chapped lips, while your mind tried to recollect and organize the memories it created before going on a blackout.

The mission was simple, try and track the anomaly. Rhino. But the villian wasn't up for dialogue and had sent you flying against a wall, damaging your watch. Miguel had promised to fix it once you were back at HQ.

But the damage had been severe enough to not only electrocute you, but to cause an explosion within the already open portal. A boom powerful enough to throw you out of the current timeline and swallow you into another one, much to Miguel's distress. And then, nothing.

Pure black darkness.

Pristine white walls elegantly dressed with technology you had never seen before. The machine whirrings and hummings kept your eyes wandering from one extreme to another, trying to find anything that would be out of place. To your dismay, nothing indicated to be in such state.

Except for one thing.

Sitting in a simple chair, was a man clad in white, blending in with his environment. If it wasn't for his titanium rimmed glasses and their reflection, his tan skin and a very familiar looking face, he'd go undetected under your radar.

But your ever trusting spider senses alerted you of his presence. His red eyes bore into you, stalking, awaiting; preying. Impassiveness and stoicism plastered on his beautiful face.

A glacial chill ran down your spine.

"M-Miguel?" You rasped in the admist of your drowsiness

The man's eye glinted, dangerous and curious as he stood. His hair wavy and silky, graciously slicked back, His smirk deepened as he walked right before you, watching you with such marvel it made your breath hitch.

"Michael." The Boss' doppelganger corrected.

A stupor spreaded through your legs. Your arms had gone numb long ago. Another late realization as you looked at your limbs, expanded and trapped in the metal contraption, like a crucifix. Your legs remained separated, toes barely touching the floor and completely bare before him.

Panic rose as he placed a white gloved and immaculate hand on your cheek. Miguel was always speaking about the variants of the villains that he often forgot to mention about his own.

This one in particular was one to be extremely wary of. Dr. Michael Stone, acknowledged son of Tyler Stone, the CEO of Alchemax. A scientist obsessed with the spider DNA his team had recollected many years ago.

"Dr. Michael Stone, Mike for the friends."

He cupped your face and kissed you deeply. Tongue sweeping on your trembling mouth, taking a taste of you. He let you go with an appreciative hum. His thumbs pressed on your now glistening lips to pry them open, taking a glance on your teeth. Your breath fanned his face as he explored your mouth with his thumbs initially.

"Healthy breath and teeth, no fangs, sadly" the doctor mumbled to himself while catching your tongue in between his thumb and index finger, pulling it enough to examinate it's length.

You whimpered at the pain. Saliva escaping your mouth, which he collected quickly in a little glass vial. His fingers typed in the data in a holo-pad that materialized next to him.

His face was deranged, a soft blush crept on his sharp cheeks. He had stumbled upon a gold mine.

The drowsiness had left your body entirely, fear and nausea replacing it. Modesty or shame weren't in Michael's vocabulary. Nipples perked at the cool air that invaded the lab.

He brought a little table with several pieces of something he had been tinkering with.

"Your little contraption seems something too advanced for people in your world. Sadly the damage is too great to salvage something."

He displayed the now burnt pieces of the watch, pieces you supposed were the core of its functioning.

"For how long have you been a mutant?"

"Years." Voice meek, he nodded as he kept typing away, without looking much your direction, too deep in the screen and the data displaying on it.

"Is there any others like me?"

You gulped. Your brief silence had been enough answer for him.

"I see." His grin turned into a devious chuckle, "I suppose there is one of me that is like you, isn't it?"

Upon hearing no answer of you, he pressed a button, where a sudden electricity jolt coursed through your body. Earning him a pained yelp from you.

"I don't appreciate your silence, cariño. Now, when was the last time your period came?"

Your body lingered in unpleasant waves of the shocking aftermath. Soft breaths turned into short and shallow pants, anger rising again.

"I don't remember" You admitted curtly and uncomfortable by the direction the interrogation was taking course.

"Have you had children before?"

The question made you blink stupidly at him while sneered at your reaction and cleared his throat. Keeping at bay the ominous thoughts already forming in his wicked brain.

"N-No." You mumbled and his lips pursed in a wolfish grin it sent an ill feeling through your chest. Your brain's danger alarms flared, begging you to run away as fast as you could. But how such thing would be achieved when you were nearly T qposing, naked, before a man that had everything but good intentions with you.

"There's always a first." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. The hidden promise in his words had you struggling against your prison but it stopped as he sent another electric jolt through your body.

You groaned both painfully and annoyed in between raged pants.

"Let me go! " He could only cackle at your waning order.

"But why would I do such thing, cariño?" His fingers tracing the slope of your jaw, "Not when I have found the perfect vessel for my lineage to develop."

Heart thumped wildly on your chest, threatening to escape up your throat.

"P-Please, let me go."

Something dern recoiled in his eyes, pleading was futile, even though he loved the way you pronounced such words.

"Can't do. In fact, I think production should start right away."

He beamed and your heart sunk. Hopefully Miguel caught your signal before the gizmo was broken for good. Attention snapping on a pair of eyes that danced around your body. He licked his lips while loosening his tie. His glasses were removed.

Your chest heaved with anxiety, but he kneeled before you, pushing your outer folds away to reach the forbidden prize he was set in devouring, your clit. It twitched and contracted when his thumb stroked it softly. Michael didn't waste time and sunk himself between your thighs.

"N-No!" You panted while trying to squeeze his head away from your thighs, but his grip was steely. His tongue assaulted your cunt with such intensity it had you clenching your jaw and panting within seconds.

Strong and moist muscle dribbled down your pussy, teasing around your quivering hole. His plump lips captured your little nub of nerves in between them, to then apply pressure within strong sucking motions. Your hips bucked, nearly melting at the powerful sensations the scientist dragged you to.

The slick of your labia increased making his motions smoother, vicious and wet. You could feel him resting his head on your lower belly as his mouth ate you like a starved man. A lap here, a dribbling up and down there and it had your mouth gaping open.

"Fuck" You tried to lurch forward but the upper restrictions on your limbs could only allow much movement. Your head heavy with lust blown and fearful thoughts, making it loll side to side, shaking off the pleasure that crawled all the way up, trying to fog your judgment completely.

The goal however was accomplished when his tongue delved in your hole, fucking it with such expertise it had your breath slurred and blown from your lungs.

His moist muscle curled, coiled and slurped at your cunt. Twirling and gathering your juices in his mouth. As dangerous as he was, Michael seemed a connoisseur of the female anatomy. And he ate like a starved man, like his life and investigation depended on it.

Your head was thrown back, just like your eyes in their sockets. Breaths turned erratic when his hands squeezed the round of your breast. Maneuvering your perky nipples a little too rough. He pinched, pulled and slapped them, matching the merciless pace of his assailant lips.

Teeth ground together, jaw clenched and trapping in the moans he rightfully had earned. Your hands managed to fist in the admist of the numbness they had been subdued to.

His tongue ventured deeper with moist and gulping movements, the tip of his nose buried in your pubic mound, keeping you in place from squirming too much, chasing that relief that would bring you a bit of peace to your tortured cunt. Heat pooled in his mouth, pressure tightening, edging you to an endless and dangerous spiral of tempting corruption.

A strangled whine came off your throat as he stopped and looked up at you. Darkened pupils wide, absorbing the red iris upon the sight of you.

Perfect, beatific even.

You were the perfect vessel for him. Lips flushed in need, exhaling the stimulation out of your system. A rapturous expression on your face, like a virgin that had been worshipped, and he was the chosen one to corrupt such grimace. His tie was removed completely and tossed somewhere.

With a tap of the holo-pad, your restrains were loosened, and you fell on the floor with a thud. A little groan as your body made contact with the cold tiles, blood rushing back to your limbs, leaving a prickling sensation all the way down your hands, awakening them.

As much as you hated to admit that you had enjoyed it, the rational side of you took control again, urging you to an attempt of escape while you crawled on your fours. Your suit had been discarded on one of the trash bins.

A strong hand grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you towards him, wobbly and feeble legs trembled at the forced attempt of standing up, only for your torso to be slammed against a nearby metal table. Air knocking out of your lungs with a 'oomph'

"You are going nowhere."

Despite the overall nerd-ish look, he was strong. Strong and big enough to pin your arms effortlessly before you, to then place a pair of metallic hoops on your wrist that instantly adhered at the table. Magnetic handcuffs, of course.

Breast flattened against the metal, unruly strands of hair obscured your sight, his agitated breath fanning over the crook of your neck. Rear was positioned in the perfect pose to expose both your holes. Pussy glistening with a mix of his saliva and your own slick.

"Marvelous. We are about to create the Opus Magna of my investigation. Aren't you excited, bonita?"

Your ears perked ominously at the unbuckling and fumbling of his pants.

"You have no idea how long I've awaited for a chance like this." His flushed tip rubbed between your folds, coating himself before aligning to your drenched hole. He tittered while taking a vice like grip on your hips and with a sudden motion, he buried inch by inch inside your gummy and sticky walls.

"Miguel!" You cried as he sheathed to the hilt, stretching you a bit past your limits. Fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled back with force. Granting him a pathetic yelp from you.

"Michael." He growled into your ear, "I am no bound by weaknesses unlike that defective copy of mines. But don't you worry..."

His tone venomous, "I'll make you learn my name one way or another." He slid a hand around your neck and squeezed a whimper out of you, "You're here to stay after all."

Callous fingers slid back to your hips, groping and grounding himself before he pushed in. A strangled moan came before air was cut short again by his firm and deep thrusting, allowing you to adjust enough to his girth. It was scary how perfect he fit inside, reinforcing his belief you were made specially for him and the explosion had been the catalyst for his plan to build a superior form of being, set in track.

Not only had he been granted a subject he had been chasing for nearly a decade, but now, he couldn't just study you, but also impregnate you. And what a better coincidence when you were reaching your most fertile days. Or so the data had dictated, and data didn't lie.

"With me." A deep cackle erupted from his mouth as an onslaught of merciless thrust were delivered between your supple and plump glutes, making them jiggle at his rutting.

A garbled and shaky moan escaped your lips, eyes wide at the core shaking pace he had settled. Toes curled and your hands fisted against the metallic handcuffs, trying to anchor yourself once more to something as the table creaked violently underneath both. The pressure on your clit increased as his balls slapped it, sending jolts through your body.

Your cunt received him with an obsence slurp, swallowing him whole over and over, hole moulded to his thick shaft, leaving you empty every time he slid out, only to be refilled impossibly deep with a pitiless plow.

You were a mewling and wailing mess underneath his formidable frame. Torso rock hard, just like the throbbing cock inside your snug and drenched pussy.

The room and you were the only witnesses of his borderline animalistic growls and snarls, set into his goal to fill you to the brim the times he saw it fit. After all, no experiment was successful without trial and error.

All you could hear was the rough slapping of your flesh melding together in a rough display of power where he indisputably had the upper hand.

Fire licked at every inch of your skin, tears prickled at the corner of your eyes, blurring your sight with overstimulation. He gave you no time to properly breath, too lost in wrecking your cunt to care, enraptured in the thrill your flesh offered him.

A firm slap on your jiggling ass granted him a choked wail, one of the few indicators you still remained conscious and holding it together. He frowned.

It wasn't enough, he wanted nothing more than your ruin. Having you subdued to him, both in mind and body. Stubborn nature couldn't just leave you fucked physically. The need to possess you in all it's wholeness took over him. You'd be his, and if he had to face his counterpart to keep you by his side, then so be it.

Michael stilled for a moment, giving you precious seconds to catch a much needed breath. He removed the lab coat and shirt, exposing his sweaty and well sculpted torso. Your legs trembled, your brain buzzed with all sort of sensations, the metal fogged with every deep breath you gave against it, if it wasn't for the restrains in your wrist, you'd certainly be on the floor, since your legs were giving up in supporting you.

A little drool streak escaped the corner of your lips, connecting to the space underneath you. Your hair was pulled back with a mild yank, forcing your spine to arch. The Fibonacci sequence would draw perfectly in the curvature of your flexible spine. One of the many perks of being a spiderwoman.

His frame swallowed you once more as he propped your right thigh on the table, granting him more access to delve in deeper into you.

" Ohmygod" you howled at how full and deep your insides were. He smirked at your words, "I can't... I can't-"

"You are more than capable of taking me, pequeña." A deep thrust and he had you sobbing, "Don't disappoint me now."

He rasped in blown inhales.

Your brain was melting just like your body. Instead of unceasing and swift slaps of flesh, steady and rhythmic plunges filled in the void space. Your mouth did nothing but nonsensical gabbling. Occasionally praising him with a coherent lewd curse or a whine.

Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. The weight of his frame pressing against you, slotting perfectly on your back. His hips dug into yours remorselessly, then you felt his arm hooking underneath your lower belly in a possessive embrace, letting the once punished breasts to bounce freely as he pounded relentlessly into you.

The second he skimmed on your tender skin, your body went taut and your brain shut off for a second, overheated by the mind shattering orgasm crashing over you. Only then your body was allowed to go limp on his arms, but that didn't stop him from giving a few more core shaking thrusts before emptying himself inside you. Flooding your womb with his hot load.

"Mi...Michael-" You croaked almost imperceptibly at the canvas he was making out of your insides.

Oh the joy of knowing he'd have a superior offspring made his wicked brain tingle. A malicious laugh escaped him upon admiring your current state. Fucked out and full of him, to the brim like he had promised. Michael Stone was a man of word.

When he had poured the last drop of cum inside, he pulled out to pick himself up. Underwear and pants secured back on his waist. His discarded lab coat covered his upper frame once more, body too heated to keep adding layers of clothing. He released the handcuffs off your wrist and caught you before your body slumped on the floor.

He rewarded your outlasting with a deep yet brief smooch, which you recoiled from. It didn't matter. You'd learn to tolerate his presence soon enough.

His arms carried you like a ragdoll. A doll that somehow still refused to be tamed, adding more dry bones to the raging obsession fire. You struggled from his grip but he didn't budge, a cruel laugh met you instead as he waltzed you to an empty room. Naked with jelly-like legs that didn't cooperate, angry and fearful and powerless.

He tossed you onto the bed and marched back towards the entrance. Proud of your lack of strength to retaliate and cunt full of his cum. His seed would do it's job soon enough. He had waited years, a bit more won't hurt him.

The thought of your belly rounding up with his child made his deep gaze to lock on you over his shoulder for a moment.

"Welcome to my world, querida." His cheeks spreaded in a wicked smirk before disappearing into the light, locking you out from freedom and hope.

Darkness drowned you, like his obsession. Dr. Michael Stone had finally achieved a breakout in his investigation. And he had no intentions of letting you go. Not until you produced the many heirs he had in mind.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Miguelverse #miguel o'hara smut #Spiderman 2099 smut #atsv smut #t writes✨#Michael Stone AU #dark!miguel o'hara

4K notes · View notes