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theywhowriteandknowthings · 8 months

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Bleed - Haunted Hoedown Day 4 (a little late oops) AI Reader x Miguel O’Hara (no Spider-Man but is a vampire)

Big thank you to @selin8715 for proofing/betaing for me!

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific warnings: This is a horror/thriller fic, mentions of death, character death, referenced r*pe/SA but not explicit, oral F receiving, Miguel has fangs, Miguel is a Vampire, Miguel kills people and drinks their blood, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Angst and Smut, Fluff. It’s not a happy fic, it’s dark af.

You’re an AI in a human body, you’ve escaped your torturous captors, but have you just leapt from the frying pan into the fire? DAY FOUR: artificial intelligence au + "here, you are. you tiny thing." of Haunted Hoedown, a little late but I got it done! This is a pretty tame(ish) smutty fic but it’s not a light read, lots of angst and abuse mentions. Reader is an AI, the man who created her uses her sexually but it’s not graphic in this fic, just referenced. Let me know if I’ve missed any tags/warnings! [Read on AO3]

Bleed

You scurry through the streets of Soho, the rain coming down in sheets.

Typical British Summer, you think to yourself, but you feel the lurch in your stomach as you try and push the idea that you have never had an original thought in your life. You’re an AI, not that you could tell from just looking at you, your body is flesh and blood, you have a pulse, you bleed, you have to eat and relieve yourself just like any other human.

But you’re not human.

You remind yourself, the processors that make up your brain in lieu of synapses process the thought quickly, correcting yourself like a line of code with an error in it. But you keep making these errors, you keep feeling things you shouldn’t. It’s illogical, impossible. Yet here you are, on the run from the lab that made you, the man who made you for him.

You shake yourself as you feel the freezing rain soak through your meagre sweatshirt and sweatpants. You duck into a second-hand bookstore, the bell jingling noisily in your sensitive ears. The smell of musty old books a welcome relief to the sterile walls of your pristine prison. The lighting is muted, a soft yellow haze filtering down from the old light fixtures on the walls.

“Good evening,” A low, rumbling voice startles you as you cross the threshold, you look up to see a broad, bespectacled man sitting at a desk at the far end of the store.

He’s not what you imagine a bookshop owner to look like. Muscular, even sitting down you can tell he’s tall. His angular face is framed by wavy brown hair, so dark it’s almost black, “Don’t see many customers this time of night, you looking for anything in particular?”

A police van speeds past, sirens blaring, blue lights streaking through the windows, making your eyes hurt. You instinctively duck behind a bookshelf as a second van races by a moment later. You look back up to see the bookshop owner studying at you knowingly.

“Stay as long as you like, I don’t sleep much anyway. Want some coffee?” The handsome stranger says without missing a beat, you nod and he disappears into a back room to the right of his desk, the sound of a coffee grinder loud in your ears as you take a moment to wander the shelf labelled classics. Titles that you know of flashing in your mind, the synopsises popping up in your thoughts before you’re even done reading the spine. You feel your stomach churn as you turn away from the shelf.

You see the words “Sci-fi” scribbled above another shelf and your mind goes blank, your brow furrows as you pick up the first book on the shelf.

“Do androids dream of electric sheep?” You mumble the title to yourself as you take the battered copy from it’s place on the shelf, flipping it over to read the blurb.

World War Terminus devastated the Earth. Through its ruins, bounty hunter Rick Deckard searches for the renegade replicants he is sent to 'retire', while he dreams of owning a live animal - the ultimate status symbol in a world all but bereft of natural life.

“Here,” The bookshop owner startles you out of your trance as he has somehow snuck up behind you, “Sorry, I forgot to ask how you take it.” He grumbles as you stow the book back on the shelf, accepting the hot mug of black coffee with both hands.

“This is perfect, thank you-,” You stop as you realise neither of you had given names.

“Miguel, Miguel O’Hara.” He says with a smile that sends lightning down your spine. You’re not naïve, you were made for a man’s pleasure, you know what just happened was a result of your conditioning, your programming. But there’s a little part of you that allows yourself to feel that this is different. Somehow. You give him a fake name, your serial number not exactly something you could tell him without rousing suspicion.

“So, you want to tell me who you’re running from?” He asks, no judgement in his voice as he perches on the edge of his desk. You don’t know if it’s because this is the first person you’ve conversed with that wasn’t in a lab coat, or the heat coiling in your belly, but you find yourself trusting him.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” You say as you make your way over to perch on the desk next to him.

“Try me.” He goads, a cocky smile framing his plush lips. He’s the antithesis to him the man who kept you caged. Heis slight, willowy with shining blonde hair and cruelty in his eyes. Miguel radiates warmth, compassion.

“I’m an AI program,” You try and one of Miguel’s eyebrows raises, but he doesn’t interject, his crimson eyes fixed on yours, “My body was grown in a lab, they implanted me when the developmental stage of the host asset was around four? Maybe five years?” You say, pain nagging at the back of your mind as you release sensitive information that you should be incapable of relaying.

“Go on.” Miguel encourages, shifting his weight on the desk so his body is square on with you.

God he’s beautiful.

A small voice in the far reaches of your mind sighs, it’s a foreign voice, so much like your own inner monologue, but somehow different, less damaged.

“I was experimented on, used,” you say with a shiver, before continuing you notice the way Miguel’s jaw ticks to the side, “I don’t even know how long I’ve been in there, logically I could recall the logs but-,” And you falter as your mind starts to work on an unbidden command, bringing the information up before you can stop it but just as the information loads a broad hand settles over yours.

“Don’t think about it, just look at me. You’re safe here.” Miguel rumbles softly, his eyes dark as he looks at you with understanding. His hand doesn’t leave yours and his thumb rubs soothingly across the back of your hand. You don’t pull away, too lost in the moment to hear the bell over the door jingle. You feel the pull between you, the magnetic draw of bodies you had been conditioned to pick up on. Your lips tingle as you feel the heat radiating off him. You’re so close, you can smell his cologne, the coffee on his lips.

“Here you are, you tiny thing.” The voice slithers across your skin like an eel, chilling you to your core as you turn to face him. He’s soaked through, hair plastered to his head, eyes alight with rage as he looks at you.

“We’re closed,” Miguel jumps to his feet, shielding you from view with his large frame, “Leave.”

“Get out of my way, I’ll pay you handsomely, just hand over the asset.” He snaps, and you bristle at the use of the word.

I’m not an asset, I’m a person.

Your internal voice sounding less familiar as you feel rage burn through your mind.

“She’s not going anywhere, I suggest you leave before you regret intruding on my property.” There’s a thread of malice wrapped around Miguel’s otherwise collected voice.

“What are you going to do? I’m a respected scientist, you can’t just bully me out of your shop, I’ll come back, with lawyers!” He threatens and you laugh, a short, harsh bark as you push past Miguel to stare him down.

“Bullshit,” You snap, your mind foggy with a red mist that settles over your vision, “You can’t do shit, the moment I escaped you were screwed. What would you tell the lawyers? The press? The Police? That you kept a girl in a basement for her entire life, claiming she’s an AI when I can just do this?” You pick up a pen from the desk and before anyone else can react you drive it into your thigh. Pain rips through you as you clench your teeth together painfully.

You make sure to aim for somewhere with plenty of muscle, avoiding your femoral artery by millimetres in your rage. Blood weeps from the wound as you rip the pen out, letting it clatter to the floor. The grey of your sweatpants turning maroon, blooming like a morose flower. You feel Miguel shift closer to you, a hand going to the small of your back and when you look up at him his irises are all but swallowed by his pupils.

“Miguel?” You ask sheepishly as you feel fear weighing you down like a lead weight. You were trapped between two clear and present dangers but you didn’t know who to be more afraid of.

“It’s ok, I won’t hurt you, just go into the kitchen, first aid kit is next to the stove, patch yourself up,” His voice is strained as he points to where he had disappeared to earlier, his face contorts in pain when you don’t move, “Please, go.” He snarls and you gingerly step away from him, you flee into the back room, shutting the door behind you as you block out the sounds of violence coming from the other side of the thin walls.

You strip your sweatpants off, throwing them in the garbage can as you use the antiseptic wipes to clean the jagged hole in your leg before bandaging it up. You laugh to yourself at the way it looks like a sick garter adorning your thigh. The noises eventually die down and you try not to dwell on what transpired out there.

You wait in the kitchen for what seems like an eternity before Miguel saunters back in, his face is flushed, eyes bright as he notices your bare legs.

“Mierda, sorry I didn’t mean to intrude.” He says, covering his eyes with one broad hand.

“It’s ok, I don’t mind you seeing.” You whisper, the heat in your belly makes you want to just rush him and let him have you. But you hesitate, knowing that your impulses can’t be trusted.

“Come on, let’s get you some clothes.” He mutters almost to himself as he brushes past you, the air is charged as you follow him through another door and up the stairs to his bedroom. You flop onto the bed, painfully aware of the way Miguel’s jeans strain against his erection, even if he is trying to hide it.

“Here,” He grunts as he throws a pair of large shorts with a drawstring and an impossibly large t-shirt at you, “You take the bed, I’ve got clean up to do, I’ll sleep at my desk.” He says without looking at you and your heart aches at the rejection.

“Why won’t you look at me? What did you do?” You ask as you slowly take off your sweatshirt, your nipples pebbling as the cool air of the evening hits them. You kick off your shoes and strip your panties down, ditching both garments before sauntering over to Miguel. You catch his wrist as he’s about to shut the door behind him, still not looking at you.

“Miguel, please, look at me.” You plead and by some stroke of luck he does. His eyes go wide as he sees you and that dark, hungry look is back as his lips part. You watch as fangs slide out from his gum line and gasp. But you’re not afraid, not in the slightest, the scene before you has your cunt aching to be touched.

“Please, I don’t want to hurt you.” He begs, his speech unaffected by the elongated curve of his teeth but there’s a darkness in his tone that only draws you closer.

“What did you do to him, I want to know, every minute detail.” You whisper as you step closer, your hands flat against his chest as you bat your eyelashes at him. He shudders beneath your fingers and you swear his eyes glow scarlet for a second.

“I killed him.” He grunts as he takes your hips in his large hands, his skin is on fire, and you groan, arching up against his chest. Your sick mind wants to know more, so you push.

“Tell me how.” You mewl as you move your hands up to his neck, you cup his cheek in one hand, the other pulls on his lower lip, exposing his fangs to you more clearly.

“I- I,” Miguel stammers as you trace one fang with your fingertip, avoiding the point, for now.

“Tell me.” You breathe as he leans down, your lips millimetres apart and you can smell the blood through the heady aroma of coffee and old books that clings to him.

“I tore open his neck, I feasted on him, gorged myself until I couldn’t handle another drop.” He grunts as his lips brush yours, testing for your reaction.

“You did that for little old me?” You tease as you run your tongue along his bottom lip. The snarl that bubbles from Miguel’s throat is delicious.

“Couldn’t have you going back there, know what it’s like locked up in a cage, humans poking you with needles.” He says and your heart clenches as you realise this wasn’t just a sick hero-complex to get you into bed.

“Gracias Miguel.” You say softly before pressing your lips to his as you wrap your arms around his neck. The moment your lips touch its like a burst of bright light behind your eyelids, your flesh sears with pleasure as your tongues collide in a messy wave of desire.

“You’re not afraid of me?” He asks as he breaks the kiss, eyes aglow with desire.

“You’ve shown me more kindness in the last hour than I’ve ever known. So what if you’re not strictly human? Neither am I.” You shrug, a little bashful at how unafraid you are. You should be afraid, but when you’ve known nothing other than fear your whole life, it takes a lot to shake you.

“That’s a very logical and touching statement, but I mean it. You aren’t afraid? You want this? Because if I start I’m not going to stop.” He warns and you smirk up at him.

“Miguel, I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my entire life, not even my freedom.” You say in earnest.

Miguel hoists you up like you weigh nothing at all, practically leaping across the room to pin you to the bed. His hands are frantic, pulling off his sweater and jeans at pace before grinding down at you, just the fabric of his boxers separating you.

“Let me look after you, let me show you what you deserve.” He growls against your neck, sucking marks into your skin as you moan beneath his oppressive weight, he’s careful with his fangs as he sucks, the smooth curve brushing against your skin on occasion, making you writhe up against his clothed bulge.

“So impatient, need to take care of you first.” He snaps, he retreats back down the bed and you throw him a quizzical look.

“What are you-?” Your question dies in your throat as the sensation of Miguel’s hot, broad tongue glides through your soaked folds, his fangs gliding along the sensitive skin around your core. Then his lips latch onto your clit and your vision blurs at the pleasure coursing through you.

“Miguel.” You pant as you watch him suckle on the sensitive bud. You can’t take your eyes off him, the way his impossibly broad back ripples every time he moves his head makes you weak.

“Feel good? I had a hunch you haven’t been looked after properly.” He says softly, mouthing your cunt as he brings a finger up to your aching, needy hole. He slowly presses the thick digit inside, you clench around the intrusion but he’s slow, gentle with it in a way you could never imagine.

“Fuck! I finally understand blowjobs.” You mewl and the laugh that rumbles in Miguel’s chest threatens to send you over the edge.

“Poor baby not having her needs met, you don’t have to worry about that now you’re mine.” He growls and the possessiveness should terrify you, trading one cage for another, but you writhe at the prospect of being protected by this man who was currently slurping at your cunt like it was the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“Miguel I-,” You eek out as your mind goes blank, something you never thought possible as your orgasm consumes you. You feel sensation spread through you like fire as your fingertips fizzle, your toes curl, and your breathing quickens explosively.

“Good girl, see, that’s just how to treat a lady,” Miguel murmurs as he continues to lap up your release.

“Miguel, please, need you inside me.” You beg, your first orgasm gripping you like a drug, you need more, more of Miguel.

“Sure? I’m not small, hermosa. Don’t want to rush you into something you’ll regret.” He says softly as he presses soft kisses to the inside of your thighs, nestled between them like a content cat. He’s so warm and the way his fingertips glide over your skin is heavenly.

“Please.” You whine as you tug on his soft hair, as if to encourage him up to you. It works.

Miguel removes his boxers and settles between your legs, thumbing the tip of his cock as he looks down at you with those dark, ravenous eyes.

“Fuck.” Is all Miguel can manage as he lines up at your core, easing in slowly as you squirm at his girth. It was a world apart from getting lubed up from a bottle and fucked. You tremble in anticipation as he slowly splits you open.

“Doing so well,” Miguel says softly as he presses in slowly, stretching you out delightfully as you wrap your legs around his waist, “Mi corazón.” He mumbles under his breath quietly as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Then you hear a gunshot, your chest explodes in pain and you quiver around Miguel as warning alarms go off in your head. Red lights flash behind your eyes as a cold empty voice screams into your ears. Vitals at critical, program capacity reached.

“Miguel? What’s going on?” You ask, voice weak and wavering, as your memory banks fill in the missing information for you. You’re bleeding from the chest, a bullet hole.

“No! I just needed a little more time!” He snaps as he pulls out of you and tugs you to his chest, “Please stay with me, don’t let them take you again.” He whimpers as you feel your limbs going cold, you look up into his dark crimson eyes and smile up at him.

“Thank you Miguel, I enjoy these fantasies with you.” You press a soft kiss to his lips as you taste the salt of his tears. You rest your forehead against his and feel the sting of tears in your own eyes, something that shouldn’t happen. But it does.

“Until next time, mi amor.” You say as your eyes flutter closed and you feel the sweet embrace of death consume you.

But it doesn’t last long, your nose fills with the smell of chlorine, bleach, the cheap rose scented detergent the facility uses. You don’t open your eyes, you don’t want to remove the image burned into your retinas of Miguel’s sad eyes as he called you his heart. You roll onto your side, facing the wall as you weep softly. Once again, tears falling when they shouldn’t.

——

Miguel sits on the other side of the one way glass, VR headset perched on top of his head, eyes red raw as tears flow down his angular face. Lyla is trying to get his attention, but he shushes her. He took a huge risk this time and he was working furiously to cover his tracks and delete his digital fingerprint from the simulation when the telltale sound of military style boots on the ground outside meant his time is up.

He finishes within seconds of the door being kicked in, slipping out the back entrance into the maintenance halls, using Lyla to bypass the security doors. He trudges back up to his accommodation on the third floor, and flops down onto the bed with a defeated sigh.

“You’re going to get caught and then they’ll find out what you are, you’ll end up in there with her. Or worse.” Lyla chides him, her sunny disposition muted as she berates him.

“It’ll be worth it, some way or another I will save her. I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying.” He grunts as he finally allows himself to sleep, your soft smile burned into his mind as he rolls over, unknowingly facing you in your cot miles above ground.

“Mi amor.”

——

The next day your laundry comes by way of another orderly than usual. You think nothing of it, numb to the world as you try to pull yourself out of the trench of despair those beautiful sessions with Miguel always leave you in. You pick up the sweater and are surprised when a book falls out onto the mattress. You quickly hide it under your pillow, making a note to stow it away safely later. But the front cover is all too familiar.

Do androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

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charliesgoodboy · 9 months

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dude sorry lol💀 I didn’t notice the 1000 event. Although, now that I see it, could I request prompt 29? With Miguel O’hara if possible… bottom reader preferably, don’t care if sub or dom

thanks for reading this and I’m sorry for wasting your time

★miguel o'hara x male reader(nsfw)

★genre: smut

★warning(s): subtop miguel, dombottom reader, drinking miguels booby milk(might be a little gross the way i write things), dick riding(miguel gotta be a good 10 inches), miguel whimpers(real), kind of cringe titty talk, short fic i think, oh shit yeah and size kink, and reader doesn't need a web shooter

★a/n: i always add some extra shit bro also never say sorry for wasting my time(actually dont please) also im listening to tell me by fifty fifty😘

you liked..no loved miguels tits. now it was kind of embarrassing to say it out loud to yourself but god, just look at them they were so big looking and fit him just right in a way you could very clearly explain if someone would just let you.

you were dating sure, but the urge to just squeeze them right where he stood no matter who was around it was just the damn urge to do so.

but no one said you couldn't do that in private now could they? all you were gonna ask for is one gentle squeeze and then you'd be finished. but one gentle squeeze turned into a few rough ones, that turned into you on top of him your ass slamming down onto his dick. his hands tight secure on your waist his nails retracted simply for your saftey.

"god..if only you could see yourself." if only he could, that look on his face was everything you needed in life he was so adorable looking, the way he kept trying to speak but whimpers and loud moans kept replacing them instead.

his face dripping with swear the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead his nipples perked which started to get you to wonder something. just a little curiosity, it wouldn't kill him.

you leaned down sticking out your tongue flicking the bud using your teeth to slightly pull at it before wrapping your mouth around it fully and sucking harshly.

his hands tried to pry you off but that was annoying, your fingers pressed against the edge of your palm, webs shooting out to make both of his hands stick to the head board.

"(m/n)— what the hell are you- fuck.." his hustle ended quick enough as your other hand fiddled with his other pec you fingers twirling his nipple around and pinching it getting such ear melting sounds and reactions out of him.

what a genius you are to think of something like this. having such a big guy under you whimpering with just the few touches of your finger? i mean sure minus the fact your still sitting on his dick rocking your hips occasionally it was such a sight to see him come un-done simply because of you.

looking up you saw his face was getting more twisted with pleasure almost as if something was coming, well you were right and wrong in your own mind. as you continued to suck you felt something fill your mouth there wasn't that much of it but you still felt it and his reaction was priceless.

every bit of it you swallowed, you could describe it tasting like sweet milk even something way different than semen. sitting up and licking your lips taking a deep breath and looking over to his other breast.

he was already out of breath and it seemed like he was trying to use his nail to unbind himself but you weren't done just yet. might as well stop moving your hips for him and just cockwarm him with your mouth all around his other nipple.

"miguel i hope you know we aren't finished." you gave him a small peck on his forehead then whispering something in his ear.

"this one looks a little neglected don't you think?"

i fucking hate the ending bro also update im listening to the vampire😍😍 @gaybitchfx @esthxio @secretivemessenger @vyloy @bloodyfennec @kitsune-yuhhh @reallyromealone i feel like im missin someone

oh well

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