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jessamine-rose · 11 months

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꒰ The Spider and the Fly ꒱

This is for my hormones every artist/ writer who dragged me into the Miguel O’Hara fandom. Your content is absolutely amazing, and I hope this piece can measure up to the brainrot you’ve given me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

Tw:: YANDERE, kidnapping, manipulation, blood, violence, self-deprecation, mention of suicide, bondage, noncon, nsfw, MDNI

Note:: Female reader, double POV, ATSV spoilers, Best Wingman Award goes to LYLA

♡ 7.6k words under the cut ♡

i. spiral orb web

You’ve always been attracted to pretty things, and that includes spiderwebs.

In your eyes, the spider’s craft is the closest thing to art in your everyday life. It is a natural phenomenon marked by intricacy and utility, yet one so easily overlooked due to its associations with pest behavior.

Fortunately, public reception has shifted since the emergence of Spider-Man. It is thanks to your “Friendly Neighborhood Hero” that the spiderweb has been rebranded as a symbol of safety. Be it a weapon or a life-sized shelter, there is a certain beauty to those human creations.

Though the same cannot be said for Miguel O’Hara’s.

Spider-Man 2099’s webs belong to their own category. His are scarlet, bright as lasers, conspicuous and dangerous in equal amounts. When Miguel traps a villain in his webs, one is reminded that a spiderweb is the tool of a predator.

Miguel’s webs are not the only thing which set him apart from the other Spider-Men. He has more inhuman powers—claws, fangs, paralytic venom. His jaded personality and intimidating stature are also far removed from the public image which inspires hope in civilians.

Perhaps that is why you find him all the more alluring. Or it could be simply because he is the one who saved your life.

He’s done more than rescue you. After catching you midfall, Miguel regards you with shock and…pity, you think. It is the only logical explanation as to why he is being so gentle with you when your dimension’s stability is a greater concern.

It also explains why he allows you to follow him into the departing portal. No, follow is a self-preserving term. More like burst into tears, ran after him, then told him your pathetic life story and how anywhere is better than here.

Much to the surprise of his coworkers, he relents.

꒰♡꒱

At first, Miguel thinks you are an Anomaly.

It is one thing to find you in another dimension. It has happened before, and he always avoided your Variants for their sake. But you are inescapable.

Among every version of you, the happiest one was his Variant’s wife. Then there’s you, the one whose life would’ve ended if not for his interference.

He tries to justify his decision. Your departure doesn’t affect the Canon, so no harm will come to your universe. And judging by your personal data, you would be much safer in a different dimension.

His dimension, to be specific. Where he can keep a close eye on you.

He is also logical enough to recognize you as your own person. You aren’t his wife, and his observations support that theory. Your hairstyle is different. You code-switch more often. You sleep and wake up at earlier hours. You’re not as confident in your abilities.

You are alike and unlike her in so many ways, yet he still sees a spark of his sun in you.

ii. funnel web

Since then, you’ve resided in Nueva York.

In return for permanent residency, you are hired as a secretary for the Spider Society. It’s civilian work, nothing dangerous, but more purposeful than what you’d ever achieved in your old job.

Strangely enough, you encounter Miguel quite often.

At first, it feels totally warranted. He is the only person you know in Earth-928, so he guides you through every step of your adjustment. He gives you a Dimensional Travel Watch, shows you around the facility, and instructs you on how not to mess up the multiverse.

After your first week, he invites you to move in with him. Miguel claims that his home already has an extra bedroom, though LYLA’s remarks suggest otherwise. Regardless, you accept since it means a familiar roommate and better living quarters.

How thoughtful of him.

꒰♡꒱

“It’s easier to look after her if we’re under the same roof,” he rationalizes.

“Sure,” says LYLA. She flickers above his shoulder and watches the holographic screens with him. “And it’s not because she reminds you of a certain someone?”

Ignoring her, Miguel switches to a different camera angle. Peter B. Parker walks past your desk and does a double take, and he is promptly summoned for a meeting.

No doubt, there will be questions about you.

“What about the redesigns?” LYLA pulls up a screen showing two bedroom layouts, one collapsed and the other abandoned. “Should we pick one? Merge them? Think of a new design? Or we can ask for her input, seeing how she clearly has better taste than you.”

One of the monitors catches their attention, announcing an Anomaly in Earth-131222.

“We can talk about this later.” With that, Miguel opens a new screen and analyzes the data. On second thought, he adds, “She prefers thin bed sheets.”

Later that day, he escorts you home. Your mood has greatly improved since your change in environment, though you’re still quiet around him. LYLA compliments your coat, a purple remnant of her closet which Miguel lent to you, but he ignores her knowing glances.

You wear it differently, he notices. It’s the same article of clothing, but fully buttoned with a silver brooch on one lapel. The effect is significantly less casual.

“So, this is it.” Your expression turns hesitant as Miguel unlocks the front door. “Are you really sure that I can stay here?”

“I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t a hundred percent sure,” he points out.

And it means less time monitoring the CCTVs.

“And you haven’t seen your room yet!” adds LYLA. “We know you’ll love it.”

“I guess it would be impolite to back out now.” You follow him inside and remove your coat. “I’ll try not to be a nuisance.”

He pauses.

That green dress…he could swear that he’s seen it on you before. Many shades lighter, paired with a bright smile, to match the T-shirt of the little girl by your—

“Miguel?” You frown at him, then your gaze flits to your dress. “Is there something wrong with my outfit? I didn’t commit a serious fashion crime in your dimension, did I?”

“It’s nothing,” he says quickly. But upon noticing your lingering anxiety, he admits, “You look good in it. That’s all.”

You nearly drop your coat. “W-What? Are you serious?”

Miguel could swear that you look more shocked than during your first meeting. If he were to come close enough to touch your face, it would surely feel warmer than average.

That’s enough.

“I meant what I said,” he replies, walking ahead. “Do you want to look around or are you just going to stand there?”

That snaps you out of your fluster. You follow him into the living room, a small smile making its way to your face. “The living room is pretty. Was it you or LYLA who designed it?”

The change of topic is a godsend. As Miguel shows you around, you recover from his comment and focus on your surroundings. LYLA is the next to admire your dress, winking at Miguel as she asks about the color, and he takes note of your reaction.

More vulnerable to flattery, regardless of speaker. Extremely happy afterwards.

His wife wasn’t like that. Usually, she’d be the one teasing Miguel with praises, pick-up lines, and inside jokes which he pretended to understand.

Still, it’s nostalgic to sit next to you on the sofa. He could get used to this again.

iii. lace web

In the following months, you fully adjust to your new life.

Your job in the Spider Society is manageable, fun even. Aside from the Spider-Man of your dimension, your close coworkers are kind enough to welcome you into their group. They look out for you, include you in their conversations, and appreciate your hard work.

They even indulge your aesthetic interests! One word from you, and they are already comparing webs. Among the various designs and techniques, however, none have fascinated you as much as Miguel’s.

…You do wish he’d let you roam Nueva York more often.

In case of Canon events, you need to get his permission first. Then you have to wait for him or an assigned Spider-Man to accompany you, and the latter is always a stranger whom you find difficult to bond with. Conversations with LYLA can only do so much.

You’ve recommended your coworkers before, but Miguel doubts their reliability. And every time you invite them to go with you, a new mission cancels your plans. If not for the official records, you’d suspect them of making excuses.

It’s a bit frustrating, honestly, but you know better than to complain.

You should already be satisfied with Miguel. He is an agreeable roommate, he trusts your capabilities, and he acknowledges your efforts. And no matter how closed-off or overworked he is, he's still deemed you worthy of his company.

…He is also very nice to look at. Muscular physique, handsome face, a serious gaze occasionally tinted in red. It’s a shame that he rarely smiles.

In another dimension, a better version of you would have definitely pursued him.

꒰♡꒱

“...and get this, he can shoot webs with stabilimenta. The designs are so detailed!”

“Oh, wow.” Miguel barely looks up from the monitors, grimacing at yet another Anomaly. He quickly sends an alert to the dimension’s Spider-Man. “What else?”

Behind him, you suddenly grow quiet.

“Now that I think about it, you must already know that since you recruited him. Sorry if that wasn’t anything worth listening to…are you sure I’m not bothering you?”

“You’re not.” It comes out faster than intended.

He turns around. Once again, you look surprised by his words, but you don’t ask for confirmation this time. You just nod and return to your digital reports.

Why did you visit his laboratory again? You said it was a false alarm from LYLA, who’d likely sent it on purpose. Lately, she’s been on his case about how rude it is to “avoid” you through extra work. He thinks he could easily do without distractions or triggered memories, however.

Miguel opens a private file and thinks of what you’d just told him. Apart from concerned looks from Jess and Peter B, most of the Spider-Men haven’t given you any trouble. Your coworkers, however, are a different matter.

23) ______ laughed because of some stupid pickup line from Web-Slinger. Smiled when he complimented her outfit (purple blouse, black high-waist skirt, favorite heels, pearl hairpin).

24) ______ talked about the other agents’ webs again.* She admires stabilimenta.

“You should be careful with your friends,” he tells you. He types a few more observations and closes the screen. “The last thing I need is for you to get involved in their mess. Don’t think that I can’t see them slacking on the job.”

To your credit, you don’t apologize. “Noted.”

“Miguel!” LYLA appears and moves the screens around him. “We have an Anomaly in Earth-332. Spider-Woman called for backup.”

Great, another one. It must be a persistent villain if Jess needs his help.

“I’m on it.” He types the coordinates on his watch and activates the portal.

“How dangerous is it?”

He stops, just a few meters short of leaving.

You leave your desk, an anxious look on your face. “I know you told me not to worry before, but I really have no idea of what your battles are like. So…will you be all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you. A hug comes to mind—it always calmed her anxieties—but he instead gives you a shoulder pat. “Don’t wait for me. If it takes a while, LYLA will call someone to escort you home.”

“Okay.” You’re still standing in front of him, but he can feel the tension leaving your body. “It’s my turn to cook dinner tonight, right? I’ll prepare a nice victory feast so look forward to that.”

A few more seconds wouldn’t hurt. “You don’t have to.”

You pout at him. “But I want to. Besides, it’s not fair that you are so good at making my favorite meals. I still haven’t perfected yours.”

Secretly, Miguel thinks your cooking tastes better than his wife’s. But whatever keeps you distracted while he is saving the multiverse.

It’s also…nice to talk about work with you. With her, he had to act normal and make up excuses for his sudden disappearances. It’s refreshing to see your concern and know that you are praying for his safety. To imagine your relieved smile when he comes home.

“Miguel!” LYLA reappears between the two of you. “I hate to ruin the moment, but Spider-Woman could really use some help right now. I know you’re counting the seconds!”

No more time to waste.

“I’ll see you later.” He lets go of you and walks into the portal.

“Take care!” you call after him.

iv. triangle web

“Welcome home, love!”

As the door opened, Miguel resisted the urge to flinch. The lights were always too bright.

His Variant’s wife wasted no time hugging him. “What took you so long?”

“Something at work came up,” he explained, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Again?” You closed the door behind him, a frown replacing your smile. “That’s the third time this month. Is there a problem in your office?”

“It’s…classified information. But nothing to worry about, mi sol.”

The house felt lively, even with Gabriella temporarily away. Warm lights. Family photos. Personal belongings scattered about. Your cheerful presence leading him.

The TV in the living room was on, paused at the beginning of a new film. Movie nights were an old family routine, he’d learned. The first time Miguel arrived in your husband’s place, you and Gabriella had agreed on an animated classic.

“Okay then. I’m just glad your office isn’t in the same area as that crime from earlier. Was there any debris blocking the road?”

“Not much.” And definitely none on the route to your workplace.

Upstairs, Miguel took a shower and contacted LYLA. The Anomaly had been returned to its original dimension. If he were lucky, none would appear tomorrow.

You were on the sofa when he came back. Wordlessly, he sat next to you and you rested your head on his shoulder. The film began playing.

“I called Gabriella,” you murmured. “She and her friends are already planning their next sleepover. I’ll pick her up tomorrow morning.”

“That’s good to hear. Have you gift-wrapped her present?”

A pearl ring glinted above your intertwined hands. “It’s in my closet.”

Note to self: Ask LYLA to record the party. It will be a nice memory to revisit.

He smiled at you. “I can’t wait to see her reaction.”

The movie had a happy ending. It was, in your words, a cinematic masterpiece.

“That’s how it ends?”

Your outburst prompts Miguel to face the opposite end of the sofa. In the dim light, he can easily make out the unimpressed look on your face.

“The ending looks decent to me,” he muses. “If you ignore the logistics of their reunion, the film is entertaining enough to rewatch.”

“I think it could be more realistic. And you’re saying that across the multiverse, this is the most common version of the movie?”

“In five dimensions, to be exact. Others have the same ending but different actors.”

You pause. “I’ll admit that Earth-928’s version has superior costume design. But I still prefer my dimension’s neutral ending. Maybe it’s because our societal values are different.”

The closing credits continue, but neither of you leave the sofa. You’re still criticizing the film under your breath, unaware that Miguel can understand every word. He does agree that the happy ending causes a few plot holes.

At least with you, he can adjust the brightness levels.

“We can watch your version next time,” he offers, reaching for the remote with his webs.

“Really? You don’t mind?”

He turns off the TV. “We can do it on my next day off.”

Knowing LYLA, this won’t be the last time she plans a movie night without telling him.

“Well, what else could I do?” she asked after he privately demanded an explanation. “You’ve been working yourself too hard, Miguel. You could really use a break, and so does ______.”

You take the remote from him and untangle the web fluid. “Do you mind if I keep this?”

Miguel gives you an odd look. “For what reason?”

You twist the web in your hands, forming string figures.

“As a decoration, maybe. Oh, and for the record, I don’t go around collecting webs from your coworkers. I just find yours particularly interesting.”

Weirdo. “My webs are functional like the others’. That’s all there is to it.”

You look him in the eye this time. “Hey, you should give yourself more credit. It’s my belief that every spiderweb is a work of art. And before you call me overly romantic, there have always been artists who thought they were worth noticing."

The web loops around your ring finger, in the place where her wedding ring used to be.

He averts his gaze. “I don’t see it that way. But whatever works for you.”

Another moment of silence.

“There is another reason,” you add softly.

He side-eyes you. “Is it about that day? You don’t need to keep thanking me for saving your life. As I said, I was doing my job and anyone would’ve done the same.”

“I wasn’t talking about you catching me.”

Oh, you meant that.

The web tangles in your hands.

“Listen.” You take a deep breath, eyes on your lap. “I know you’ve been avoiding this subject. Maybe it's so I don’t feel indebted to you or pressured into reliving bad memories. But…I just want you to know that I’m glad you foiled my plans.”

…It would be best to let you finish first.

Your voice shakes. “I mean, you’re smart, aren’t you? Even without my meltdown, you would’ve figured out that my fall had nothing to do with the Anomaly in my dimension.”

He did. And that was precisely why Miguel mistook you for one at first. It wasn’t just your identity but the fact that you were found in danger after the Anomaly had been captured.

Ten minutes post-battle. The undamaged state of the nearby buildings. The passive acceptance in your demeanor.

He can vividly recall the rest of that day. Those hours spent studying your personal data, identifying every action and condition which diverged from his wife's path.

A loud sigh. “I just—I couldn’t take it anymore, okay? I thought it would be easier to put an end to my mistakes, then you had to show up. And thanks to you, life has been great! I like this world, I’m not alone, I still have my personal issues to work through but I’m trying to do better. But yeah…I’m just sorry for forcing you to get involved.”

“It’s not your fault,” he insists. He scoots closer to you and puts his hand on top of yours. “I made the choice to bring you here. And I couldn’t exactly leave you, knowing your situation.”

That is a lie. Rather, half of his thoughts were about his wife and how he’d been able to sustain her happiness. How that farce proved he could do the same for you.

“Either way, I’m grateful.” You look up, your lips curving into a shy smile. “I’m really happy now, Miguel. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’ll never regret my decision to follow a cryptic stranger into a portal. Even if it meant learning that the multiverse is in constant danger. Or that my favorite film has an alternate ending which makes no sense to me whatsoever.”

Has his wife ever looked at him like that? There is a soft brilliance to your gaze, wholly reserved for him. It triggers a warm feeling in his chest.

The moment is quickly ended when you cover your face with a cushion.

“Anyway! If you don’t mind, I’d really love to move on and talk about something else. How was your mission earlier? Is Earth-199999 still giving you a hard time?”

You’re still seated next to him, legs touching. Your tone leaves no room for objection.

He lets go of your hand. “You would not believe what kind of shocking messes we’ve had to deal with. We are never recruiting Dr. Strange or his little nerd.”

“You can tell me all about it.” You untangle his web from your hands; it loops around your pinky finger this time. “I’m here for you, okay? For as long as you’ll have me.”

v. mesh web

There have been more Anomalies lately.

You walk past the detained villains, silently counting them. Their increase in numbers has kept the Spider Society on high alert for the past weeks. While it means more documents for you, the effect on Miguel’s stress levels is concerning.

Come to think of it, has he returned from his mission yet? If not, you hope the cafeteria’s takeout boxes have a self-heating function. As you get closer to Miguel's laboratory, you hear the door open. The sound is followed by two sets of footsteps.

“Do you think it’s healthy for him?”

“I’m more worried about ______.”

You stop walking.

Is that Peter B and Jess? Why are they talking about you?

Jess’s tone is reproachful. “The poor girl has been through so much already. It’s not safe for her to be here, at least in HQ. He knows that she is a different case from Gwen.”

“You know how Miguel is. I’ve already asked about her, and he won’t tell me anything new. Not even my Super Adorable Mayday album could convince him.”

“I don’t like this, Peter.”

Their footsteps become louder. You go back to the entrance of the hallway, just within earshot but hopefully far enough to evade their Spider-Senses.

“Neither do I. But you should’ve seen him when he lost their daughter, Jess. Now think of his wife: He never got to see ______ before she disintegrated. Then one day, out of nowhere, after staying away from countless Variants, he finds a version of her who needs him.”

…What the hell are they talking about?

The walls close in on you. You take a step back, followed by another.

Then, at the sound of a sharp “Is someone there?”, you drop the takeout box and run.

Their daughter. His wife. A version of her.

You already know that Miguel lost a family in another dimension. It was briefly mentioned when he warned you about Canon disruptions, but he refused to share the details. Is this why?

This whole time…you are a Variant of his wife?

You aren’t followed. Your coworkers cheerfully greet you, but you ignore them and return to your desk. It’s arranged the way you like it, complete with personal decorations. The drawer holds a stress ball in your favorite color, a gift from Miguel of all people.

You never did tell him that it is your go-to stress reliever. Was it the same for her?

You squeeze the ball and take deep breaths, but the action does little to calm you.

It all makes sense. Why else would Miguel take an interest in you?

Your gaze lands on your Dimensional Travel Watch before you remember that the idea is futile. Yours is only a modified version which prevents glitches but can’t be used for travel. And the Go-Home Machine would require Spider-Byte’s help.

…Why are you even wasting your time on an escape plan? How are you sure that you won’t mess up and make another mistake?

“______?” LYLA appears in front of your face. Her greeting sounds different.

He knows.

You force yourself to answer. “Y-Yes?”

“Miguel is back.” She flickers as usual, but it doesn’t change the nervous look on her face. “He wants to see you.”

꒰♡꒱

Peter B will be dead when he gets to him.

Several screens surround Miguel, each playing CCTV footage. He focuses on a live recording of you on your way to his laboratory.

At least you are complying with his orders.

The platform is fully lowered by the time you get there.

“Hey…welcome back,” you stammer. “How was the mission?”

“It was fine,” he replies brusquely. “Jess and Peter B spoke with me as soon as I came back. I was just confirming the status of Earth-67 when I checked the CCTVs. Care to explain?”

A heavy silence falls between the two of you. LYLA is nowhere to be seen.

Your panic is evident. Your gaze wanders, at everything but Miguel, until it stops at the dented takeout box on his desk. “Is that…is the food still warm? Or have you already eaten in Earth-67? I forgot to ask in advance.”

He glares at you. “Are you seriously worrying about my lunch right now?”

“Well, what else am I supposed to say?” you shoot back. The anger in your tone is unmistakable. “‘Hey, Miguel, when was I supposed to know that we were a family in the dimension you accidentally collapsed?’ Does that sound any better?!”

“Believe me, I was going to leave you alone at first.” He grips the edge of his desk, resisting the urge to raise his voice. “But how could I do it after the way you reacted?”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? You could’ve easily said no! This whole time, I wondered why you were so willing to help me. I thought you were being nice, that you believed giving me a better life was worth all these risky accommodations. Was…was I wrong?”

Your voice cracks at the last part, and you hastily wipe your eyes. It’s reminiscent of your first meeting, the distressed shock which Miguel had never seen in his wife. Only that time, you had sought out his comfort.

“Tell me, was it because of her?” you whisper. Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill. “Is that all you’ve ever seen in me?”

“You have the wrong idea.” Miguel approaches you, but you instinctively back away. He raises his hands in a placating gesture. “If you would just listen to me—”

“How can I?!”

Your hand settles on your wrist, unconsciously fiddling with your Dimensional Travel Watch. The clasp loosens, and his reaction is immediate.

He grips your arm. “Don’t do that! You’ll get yourself—”

“Let go of me!”

You pull back, clawing at his wrist, but Miguel's grasp only tightens. His other hand taps the watch’s controls to activate the Lock feature.

“This is for your own good, ______." In the split second that he releases you, his webs shoot out and bind your limbs together.

“No!” You collapse onto the floor. The scarlet threads dig into your skin, emitting a harsh glow in the dark. “Please, just let me go!”

After everything he’s been through, he is not losing you again.

Ignoring the stab of guilt, he picks you up and salvages what is left of his composure.

“You see, this is why I didn’t tell you.” He sighs, already feeling the beginnings of a headache.

You’re still shaking in his grasp, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I…I’m not—”

His kiss easily silences you. It’s far from intimate but the sensations are familiar. Warm lips. The scent of your perfume. The addictive rush of euphoria. Physical and chemical reactions which couldn’t be adequately explained in words.

And the whimper that escapes your lips when Miguel pulls back to press a light kiss to your forehead.

“We can continue this conversation when we get home.”

vi. cobweb

Your days in the Spider Society are over.

Not permanently. Miguel says that you can resume work once you’ve calmed down, but you doubt it will happen under any pretense of freedom.

Since your confrontation, you’ve been confined in his home. As it turns out, Miguel had already prepared for this—locks, alarms, hidden cameras, a comprehensive speech which only elevates your horror.

“She wouldn’t want this,” you keep insisting. You writhe against your restraints, but the webs remain taut against your skin. “How would your ______ feel if she knew?!”

“She’s not here anymore.” Miguel looks away from your face, as though the reminder physically pains him. “What matters now is that I have you. The both of us can start over.”

“How can you say that?!” At this point, you’re on the verge of hysteria. “You…you don’t actually love me. You’re only doing this because I’m the closest you have to getting her back!”

The hand on your cheek makes you flinch. The gentle caress does little to soothe you, not with the underlying threat of his claws. His eyes flash red in the dim light, brimming with—what do you call it? Grief? Desperation? Obsession?

You can’t tell, not when those sentiments are for someone else.

“You only say that because you don’t know any better,” he says softly. His lips meet yours, trapping you in a deep kiss. “Now get some rest, mi sol. It’s been a long day, and we know how you get when you’re stressed.”

My sun. What a lie. Since when have you done anything to deserve such a title?

You can’t bother to fight back. You’re too tired to think, to resist the kiss, to move an inch as Miguel undos your restraints and tucks you into bed.

Instead, you close your eyes and retreat into slumber. But even in your last seconds of consciousness, his gaze is strongly felt.

As it turns out, Miguel really did consider all possibilities. Your Dimensional Travel Watch has an exclusive Lock feature, should you ever be tempted to escape him through death. It can only be removed during your scheduled baths, with LYLA acting as your timer.

You rarely talk to her, either. She clearly feels sorry for you, but not enough to help. She monitors your daily activity, keeps you company when Miguel is away, and tries to cheer you up. She has yet to accomplish the last task.

Against your better judgment, you ask her about your Variant. She is resistant at first, knowing the negative outcome, but you are persistent. In the end, LYLA decides that it’s better to show you a few videos than for you to ask Miguel directly.

…Your Variant is perfect. Pretty. Carefree. Successful. A calming presence. You can see why Miguel would fall for her, with how she effortlessly puts a smile on his face.

Among your Variants, isn’t there one who bears a closer resemblance to her? Or were they too important to leave without disrupting the Canon? Is that why he settled for you?

“You have a better sense of style,” LYLA offhandedly mentions. “It was Miguel who said that. And do you know that he calls you one of our best workers?”

It doesn’t make you feel any better. “I see. Thanks for letting me know.”

As LYLA predicted, the information only makes you feel worse. You can’t stop thinking about your other self. How did she turn out like that? How did she succeed in your failures? How has Miguel perceived his moments with you, as new memories or a replica of lost time?

You don’t want to ask him. You’ve had enough disappointments for one lifetime.

Neither do you make an escape plan. On the low chance that you succeed, you don’t have anywhere to go. The Spider Society, or most of them, is loyal to Miguel. And it’s not like you’d be better off in your dimension, back to your empty home and dead-end job and daily reminders of your insignificance.

At least here, you can feel valued. Even if you owe that to someone else.

꒰♡꒱

“I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but I told you so.”

Miguel doesn’t look up from the screens. “Now is not the time for this.”

LYLA is anything but smug. ”Are you sure? Because you said that when I asked if you’d ever tell her the truth, and look where that went. A civil explanation might’ve been nice.”

“How is she?”

“No better than with you.”

The CCTV switches to the kitchen. By now, you've established a new routine—lie awake in bed, rearrange your room, watch TV, cook your own meals. It's repetitive but easy to follow.

He zooms in on the ingredients. “Do you see anything suspicious?”

“No potential poisons,” LYLA responds, equally focused. “Oh, is she cooking dinner again? Last night’s meal looked really good.”

“It probably helps. Gives her something to preoccupy herself with.”

In the end, you’ve chosen the docile route. You’re still tense around Miguel, but your behavior can’t even be counted as malicious compliance. You just go through your new routine, trying to create some semblance of normalcy in confinement.

Though internally speaking, he has no access to your thoughts.

“She’s quite different from his wife, isn’t she?” asks LYLA. “I like this version of ______.”

Miguel zooms in on you this time. In your current state, you’ve revealed more contrasts to his Variant’s wife. It actually doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

When did his feelings for you begin? Was it when he saved you? When he saw a spark of his beloved in you? When that spark turned out to be your own brilliance?

All he knows is that you’re the one who consumes his thoughts nowadays. Your distinct preferences, your little quirks, your quiet words, your uncertain expressions, your attitude towards him and no other Miguel.

...There must be a way to persuade you. If Miguel was able to play along with his Variant’s family, to the point that his love for them became genuine, the same can be said for you. He just needs to prove that you can and will be happy together.

The only thing missing would be Gabriella.

vii. sheet web

You’ve been promoted to Miguel’s bedmate.

His room isn’t much. It is dark, minimalist, often empty due to the nature of his work. There are zero mementos of his lost family, not even a framed photo or something of her influence.

They’re probably hidden somewhere. How considerate.

On most nights, you act oblivious to your new sleeping arrangement. You just say good night to Miguel, lie down on your side of the bed, and try to fall asleep as quickly as possible.

…That turns out to be more difficult than expected. Try as you might to feign sleep, you can’t relax in Miguel’s grasp. He holds you tightly in his sleep, your back pressed against his chest. You wonder if it is a familiar position or a means of keeping you close.

Lately, he has switched tactics. Movie nights have become a regular pastime. You’ve received permission to work from home, sans contact with the Spider Society. The two of you have even gone outside for a few dates, though his grip on your hand discourages any escape attempts. Awkwardness aside, he’s been more physically affectionate.

It’s absolutely jarring, but you’re somewhat grateful for the added comforts. If your choices are different from his wife’s, Miguel doesn’t seem to mind.

This should be fine. It’s better than when he was acting like an overprotective control freak…even if those methods had left no speculation as to who the intended receiver was. With this approach, you can never be sure if Miguel sees you or his wife in front of him.

You try not to dwell on it more than you already have. You’re still here. Your living conditions have marginally improved. Miguel doesn’t expect you to be more like her.

You just need to keep it together, like you always have.

That is what you keep telling yourself, up until the night Miguel asks for your thoughts on starting a family.

“No. Please, stop!”

Red. In the dark, all you can see is red.

The lurid color wraps around you, binding your wrists to the headboard. The webs are taut, no-frills, effective in their sole purpose of keeping you trapped.

No, what’s worse is Miguel. His gaze is trained on you, scarlet orbs alight with crazed desire and your own terrified reflection.

“Stop struggling,” he sighs as he pins you down. Blood decorates his bare arms, from where your scratches failed to stop him. “You’re only going to get yourself hurt.”

You continue, anyway, only to scream as he leans down and sinks his fangs into your neck. It hurts, the flesh burns, everything feels heavy—

You can’t move.

It doesn’t take long for the venom to kick in. The numbness spreads throughout your body, leaving you dizzy and helpless. Your limbs won’t cooperate at all.

Yet despite the paralysis, the pain stays with you. It’s the only sensation you can feel—the sharp ache in your neck, the chafing around your wrists, the sting from where Miguel accidentally scratched your thigh while tearing off your clothes.

“Mi sol, you are still tense,” he mutters. His lips remain on your neck, administering light kisses to the fresh wound. A clawed hand presses down on the bed, puncturing the fabric, to support his weight. “You need to calm down.”

You can only bite your lip as he moves on to your chest, tainting the skin with love bites. His other hand retracts its claws and strokes your stomach, tracing—are those patterns supposed to be her stretch marks?

Of course he memorized them. She must be on his mind right now.

You squeeze your eyes shut, but the ministrations continue. His thumb strokes your hip, eliciting a stifled moan, and the self-inflicted darkness gives way to the sight of Miguel’s irritated expression.

“You’re not listening to me, ______.” His eyes flash, daring you to try again. The sight of his exposed fangs, speckled with your own blood, triggers another wave of dread.

Should you even be surprised that he knows your sensitive spots? He already made it clear that any form of escape is in vain.

It's pure torture. It would be easier if Miguel would just have his way with you, use your body to his heart’s content, leave you to your thoughts. But no, he is taking his time and making sure that you physically enjoy this. Ensuring that you will be ready for what comes next.

“S-Stop.” Your lips are still numb, but you manage to form words. “I said…I don’t want this! I’m not ready!”

“Shh.” He silences you with another kiss, his palm pressing down on your stomach. “You’re only saying this because it’s our first time. You have to trust me.”

It’s hard to believe him when you know that his composure is slipping. What is he trying to hide? His ragged breaths? The hardness pressed against your inner thigh? The urgency with which he lifts your legs up onto his shoulders?

“You’ll understand once our child is here,” he says. He breaks off the kiss, his voice hushed to a reverent whisper. “We will be so happy, happier than you can ever imagine.”

“You’re lying…I can’t—!”

You can’t stand to look at him. His gaze is so cruel, clouded with love, adoration, hope. Skies, he looks so hopeful. You don’t want to wait for the day he looks at you differently.

Was this how he looked at her? How did she return his gaze? It must’ve been passionate. It must’ve been romantic. It must’ve been so promising.

“I can’t give you Gabriella!”

The world stops as soon as those words leave your mouth.

“...What did you just say?” Miguel stares at you, eyes wide.

Of all Variants, why did it have to be you?

That is when you burst into tears.

How humiliating. It’s hard to breathe, it must be an ugly sight, and you can’t do anything to cover your face. But it’s enough to make Miguel stop and listen to you.

“I can’t give you Gabriella,” you repeat in choked sobs. “It requires an exact time, specific cells and DNA. And even if we succeed, I can’t raise her into the child you knew. I...I can’t restore your family. I can’t be her.”

In the end, you will only disappoint him.

“______…” He raises his hand to wipe your tears, but you interrupt him with a glare.

“Honestly, why did it have to be me?!” you shout. “Why couldn’t you have found a better duplicate of your wife? This wouldn’t be happening if you’d chosen the right ______!”

He doesn't respond.

For a few seconds, all you can hear is your own pitiful weeping. You vaguely register the feeling of your legs hitting the mattress, of the absence of Miguel’s touch, but you keep your eyes closed. It’s easier that way.

Suddenly, there is the sound of threads snapping. Then the sensation of strong hands coming under your back, lifting you upwards, pulling you into an embrace.

Your eyes fly open. “What—”

“Ya, calladita.”

Miguel…is he hugging you? He holds you tightly, repeating the words in a hushed tone. The message is followed by a string of curses which, judging by the way he turns away from you, must be solely directed at himself.

Paralyzed, you can only stare down at your lap. At his webs, still wrapped around your wrists but no longer connected to the bed. “What are you—”

“Could you let me talk for a second?" he snaps. He tilts your face upwards, allowing you to take in his glare. “You are my first choice. Not the version of you from Earth-94, Earth-835, or any other dimension in the multiverse. It doesn’t matter that you are different from her.”

This can’t be true. “Still, I—”

“As for Gabriella, you’re right." There is a flash of resignation in his gaze, so sorrowful that it clashes with his words. “I knew that from the start.”

“...Then why?”

Your head spins. His hands are still on you, caressing your cheek and keeping you in his grasp. The numbness gives way to warmth.

“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that any child from you will be ours,” he answers. His voice softens, as does his gaze. “Just as you are mine and I am yours.”

The words get stuck in your throat. “Are…are you sure?”

How can he say such a thing? Your sense of hearing must be damaged. It is the only logical explanation as to why—

The look in his eyes leaves no room for doubt. “I promise.”

...What else can you possibly say?

Your vision blurs. Miguel is still speaking, another quiet reassurance from the sound of it, but it’s all static in your head.

What the hell are you supposed to do with this information? It’s beyond your comprehension, too subjective and unproven for the likes of you. And yet you feel…good. Happy. So, so happy despite everything you have been through.

Skies, you are truly pathetic.

No, what’s more pathetic is the way you cry harder and melt into Miguel’s embrace. It’s the way you listen to his remaining praises and beg him to keep talking. To list everything about you that is good and faultless and desirable to him, everything he thought was worth noticing.

And when he kisses you, you willingly reciprocate.

The darkness is soothing.

The dim lights cast the bedroom in shadows. It’s a blessing to your dizziness, your eyes tired from crying. With this obstacle to your vision, you can pretend that the previous hours never happened.

Almost. The soreness, the deft hands tending to your injuries, and the immense euphoria are impossible to ignore.

It’s also painful, unbearably painful now that the venom’s effect has fully worn off. You can only sit up and wince as Miguel disinfects another wound.

He looks up in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I am.” You give him a weak smile as he bandages your thigh and mumbles a second apology. “I feel better already.”

His own injuries are equally evident, from your hesitant love bites to the scratch marks on his back. As guilty as you felt, you could only say so much before Miguel silenced you with a withering look.

…You will make it up to him tomorrow. If you are still capable of walking.

The thought leads you to cry into the pillow, muffling your curses. If Miguel can understand you, he doesn’t say anything. Rather, he closes the first aid kit and holds your hand.

“I’ll draw a bath,” he tells you. “Can you wait for a few minutes?”

Your thumb brushes against his pulse point. His heart rate is frustratingly calm, perhaps slightly above average if you are to flatter yourself. Maybe you can count the number of beats and ask LYLA tomorrow. She will be happy to confirm it.

You meet his gaze, intertwining your fingers with his. “Sure.”

You’d like to think that his last kiss is another promise.

With that, Miguel stands up and leaves the room. As for you, you lie down and go back to screaming into the pillow. Tired as you feel, you haven’t felt this thrilled in years.

Then the spiderwebs catch your attention. They’re still stuck to your wrists, albeit frayed. There are loose threads from where Miguel broke them.

Red. Illuminating the dark, holding you close, keeping you safe.

Carefully, you pick apart the threads and twist them around your hand.

No string figures this time. Your technique is clumsy, irregular, lacking beauty and order. Nonetheless, you continue until your left hand is covered in a glovelike pattern.

The final knot is above your ring finger. It’s a perfect fit.

It is the prettiest thing you have ever seen.

♡

Author's Note ๑ Side Story 1 ๑ Prologue ๑ Epilogue ๑ Side Story 2

“I’m just going to write a short post to purge my brainrot,” I say, shortly before Miguel O’Hara unlocks a core memory of me reading The Spider and the Fly and inspires me to write 7.6k words with literary references.

Thank you so much to @diodellet for beta-reading this and @yanmaresu for helping me with the Spanish phrases!! As for my readers, I hope you enjoyed my take on Yandere! Miguel and his darling. Do entertain me with your comments and brainrot ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝

Tag a Miguel O’Hara enjoyer!! @kocherry @yandere-romanticaa @yandere-daydreams @bweoo @h2o2-and-baking-soda @ansy-tea @yandere-wishes @weebsinstash @curesi @robindere @crystalcrynight @mrlidocaine @handsomeunderwear-art @blughxreader @chiikasevennn @fortheloveofleon

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nina-renmen · 10 months

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Yandere Submissive Miguel o’hara X black reader 18+

Minors DNI!!

( Mentions of face sitting)

• The only case where Miguel would be submissive is if A) Y/n has a motherly personality that just makes him melt or B) She has a strong, unshakable personality that can sometimes overshadow his own sometimes. ( It’s by accident, y/n dosn’t mean any harm)

• Let’s start with the motherly personality first

• Miguel would be absolutely putty in your hands behind closed doors

• Seriously, this man is most likely touch starved after loosing his family ( especially since your cooking is amazing)

• He’d probably called you Mommy once by accident

• You figured out he was submissive after one of his tantrums that he had over a universe. When you began to calm him down things began to get a little heated and you noticed he wasn’t in the mood nor had the energy to dominate. So you did.

• He’d try to cover his whines and moans but y/n’s encouraging words and praises kept him from doing so. • Just my opinion but I think he’d bring up the topic of you sitting on his face. When he asked about it you’d gone quiet, your brain still processing what he had just said.

• His face is stone cold, not a hint of emotion breaking through. But in the inside he’s nervous.

• ‘Should I have asked? What if this makes the relationship weird? No it shouldn’t…she’s my girlfriend’

•Nonetheless he was relieved when you agreed, though you didn’t expect him to want to try it out that very night. • Miguel would probably pull you down after you attempted to only hover over him, in fear of suffocating the man.

•’I said sit on my face, Not hover.’

•Now for Y/n with a strong personality

• When you first met, Miguel and your personality clashed a lot, you were both assertive and both used to being the leader, whatever was said had went with the two of you

• But once Miguel started to warm up to you, you both got into a relationship, and then the next step

• The first time you both fought for the dominant Role, but just to mess with you Miguel let you take the Dominant role thinking that you’d be tired of it within ten minutes or so.

• Needless to say, he was wrong.

• He’d definitely be drooling, tears pricking his eyes while y/n would tease him. Begging for some type of release. • This man’s moans would make butterflies appear in your stomach, seeing his face flushed with small strands of his hair sticking to his forehead

• “ P-Please. I can’t take it anymore just let me cum already!” He’d whine while y/n would whisper sweet nothing to him, grinning devilishly.

• At the very end, no matter if Y/n was motherly or had a strong personality Aftercare would always involve a bath, snacks and cuddles.

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huicitawrites · 11 months

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The Hunt

A Yandere! Miguel O' Hara (Across the Spider-Verse) x Female! Spider! Reader fanfiction. Disclaimer: I do not condone 'yandere' in real life. This is just fanfiction, nothing more. I advise reader's discretion due to that it will be a dark fic, there will be violence, and forms of assault (in case of non-con or dub-con, I will be sure to tag in the chapters). You have been warned. I also warn, this is definetly a +16. With that being said, the rest is up to you.

Summary: "Y/N! Get. Back. Here. NOW", swinging away from an infuriated Miguel O'Hara wasn't something you had planned or ever thought would occur, never entertained the thought of it. At least not until now, as you desperately attempted to get away from him and somehow escape him- for your dimension-travel watch (as wild as the concept of it sounded) had been snatched by the same man that was madly hunting you down.

How did it even all come to this? Let's rewind, back to the beginning.

Chapters:

Part I

Part II

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere blog #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #self insert #miguel o' hara x reader #yandere miguel x reader #yandere miguel o' hara #yandere spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #yandere spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 #fem reader #miguel ohara #atsv miguel

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s-sugustar · 1 month

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Drown me in your tears, kiss my bloody lips —

ℳ．𝖮’𝖧𝖺𝗋𝖺

{ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 } : dark, dub-con, aphrodistic, stalking, peeping tom, yandere!miguel o’hara, miguel is a total pervert, not proofread!

{𝐰𝐜} : 4.3k

At the age of 15, you saved shops from being destroyed, catching culprits and webbing them to the wall for the police to throw in jail. You were having fun, you enjoyed being your friendly neighbourhood spider woman. At the age of 19, you told your mother who you were. At the age of 23, you lost her.

There was some villain attack, an army of four men, with weapons holding some extra-terrestrial energy. Their leader, the Falcon, a man with metal wings caused terror throughout the city. Two buildings started to collapse, and time wasn’t really on your side; so, with all that you had in you, you pushed past everything and swung through the air, wind rushing past you as you webbed others to safety. You were jumping from two buildings, webbing people to safety, and pulling others out of the way from falling objects.

Until you heard a scream, you swiftly looked to where the scream came from. A woman falling from a building and not just any random woman. The bright yellow coat, with black polka dots, gave her away; but it could’ve been anyone with a bright yellow coat with black polka dots. Yet, her screaming didn’t stop and the low rasp from her yelling shot adrenaline through you.

You heard that voice before, when your father had been around, it was late in their marriage but it was still there. Day and night, their voices raised through the roof. Often you hid in the closet, fearing that the yelling would take another turn. Fortunately, it never did, but the arguments did leave an imprint on you as a small child.

As you pushed off the street, soaring through the air, your hand outstretched towards her while the other angled towards a stable building to which your web shot towards her. You called out to her, hand outstretched as you were so close to grabbing ahold of her.

“MA!” you yelled, immediately diving for her, a web shot out towards her. The ground seemed closer, a bit too close so you pushed yourself just a little bit more. Everything around you slowed as your mother reached out to you, eyes filled with tears. The web reached but she had already touched the floor, her body bouncing back up from the impact.

“No.” you landed next to her, hands trembling as you moved the hair from her face. You pulled the mask away from your face, as it felt suffocating to be in. “Ma?” you shook her, eyes not believing that she was gone. “Mom, come on. Wake up.” You shook her again, your fingers finding her wrist to feel for a pulse but there was none. The weather had a weird connection to how we feel at this moment, as your tears socked the red shirt of your mothers, so did the rain.

It had been 4 years since your mother passed and you were in your apartment with your cat, Cloud, relaxing on the couch as the TV played some sort of old cartoon you watched as a child. Suddenly, your hand stretched out to a vase that was nearby, webs latching onto the glass before pulling it back to you. Placing your cat quietly into the chair, you stalked towards your bedroom, after your spider senses went off.

Swiftly kicking the door open, you threw the vase without much aim, expecting to break on impact yet no breaking of glass was heard; just you with your hands webbed together with webs that were crimson red, a flow of electricity flowing through them. You look at both of the perpetrators, eyes squinted with your teeth sharp in the night light.

“She’s got fangs just like you.” you heard, a woman’s voice to be exact. In all fairness, you barged into the room, not bothering to turn any lights on to startle the perpetrators but at this point, you realized it was needed. As you reached into the room, you patted the wall in search of the light switch, upon finding it, you flicked the switch on to reveal two people.

A very tall man with an abnormally slim waist that somehow complimented his broad shoulders and bright red irises that glowered down at you. The lady next to him was not as tall, although she had height, she was not as tall as the man next to her. What did shock you was not the eerily similar suits they had on but the fact that the woman had been pregnant.

“Who are you?” you asked, standing firm as you looked up and down the two people who stood in front of you. You had no idea how they arrived here since, number one, your building was three stories up; but by the looks of their suits that were very similar to yours, they didn’t seem to have much of a problem for that aspect.

Number 2 was that, your windows were locked, well the one in your bedroom was, when you were at home. The much taller man spoke, “We need to talk to you.”

That discussion between you, Miguel and Jessica had been around 3 years ago. Around the same time they allowed you to work alongside the Spider Society. You had been curious about the Spider Society but you liked to work alone, another trait that Jessica teased you about, that both you and Miguel had in common; so you only joined 7 months after you were given the opportunity. The Spider Society wasn’t as bad as you thought it would’ve been.

Many of the spiders treated you well, Peter B and Jessica were the ones who you had been close with you. In many of the missions you had, you were either with Peter B or Jessica, to your contentment. You were close to Gwen and Hobbie, the two growing on you after Peter B and Jessica: the feeling of younger siblings to you.

One thing you all had in common was that you all lost someone close. It seemed to be ‘the canon event’ that all spiders had to go through; not a pleasant thing to experience.

Miguel O’Hara. A stoic man with no emotion shown on his face, other than irritation. The relationship you had with Miguel wasn’t to a title of some sort. You acknowledged each other, he praised you for your efficiency and work and you respected him. Although some of his values were questionable you kept those questions to yourself.

You hardly ever had missions with him but when you did, they were quick with little to no words spoken between the two of you. He gave you an order and you followed, no buts, no ifs or maybes; not that he would hear you voice.

At this time, you were called in to go on a mission with Miguel; neither Peter B nor Jessica had been available so you were the next best option. On this particular mission, the anomaly had more power and endurance than all the others, you encountered and it was also much stronger than Miguel anticipated, making this job go on a bit longer than necessary which caused Miguel to be more irritated than usual.

"On my call, you go from behind, Do you understand me?" Miguel declared, moving his neck from side to side to relieve the tension that had been stuck within it. You grunted in response, ready to get this mission over with so you could go back home and spend some time with the Persian cat you named Cloud. You were perched on top of a roof, lying in wait for Miguel's signal.

Although quite close to the fight, you weren't exactly able to see Miguel and the anomaly, so you webbed over to another building where just as you looked down, you saw that damage that had been done, not only to both Miguel and the anomaly but to the city as well.

Though it wasn't your concern, you still felt bad for the people who lived on this earth. Your focus on the damage to the city was pulled away when you saw the said anomaly smash Miguel into a nearby building.

"Miguel!" you scrambled out, unsure of his current state; still perched on top of the building but unfortunately God hadn't been on your side today. Upon calling out to Miguel, the said anomaly snapped its head to where you were, a snarl forming on its lips as it stood from its place before shooting up, barreling towards your figure. "Shit." you moved from your position, dodging oncoming attacks from the anomaly.

You hadn't seen when Miguel returned to the fight but one thing you did notice was that he wasn't himself. That meant he was more ferocious than normal. His eyes were darker than usual, you were no longer able to see his irises; everything was covered in red.

The fangs were no different to the menacing look he had in his eyes. They seemed sharper, pointer and the tip and the snarling that fell from his lips seemed way more sinister.You had no idea what had happened to him, but you knew that he wasn't himself.

The fight was long and tasking but you two were able to fight the anomaly off before imprisoning it and sending it back to HQ. Miguel stood in front of Jess who had a strong hold on the anomaly. The conversation went unheard to you as you observed Miguel's behaviour. Gruff, hunched over, stiff and stoic, although it was the usual, it seemed more rushed as if he was in some sort of hurry.

After his conversation with Jess, you walked over to where he stood, your body facing his as you took in his features, head tilting slowly as you looked up to him. His breathing was shallow, fists tightly closed, you swore you saw some bit of blood dripping from his hands. You looked back up to him, locking eyes in the process before he turned away, stopping you from looking at him.

"Go home," he said, a second passed by before he continued. "I'll finish up here." It sounded forced but you didn't pry. "You alright?" you asked, taking light steps towards the man.

To which were stopped, when a low growl emitted from him. you asked again, "Miguel, what did that anomaly do to you?" He whispered something under his breath, the first few words you weren't able to catch but the last few you barely caught. ".... you need to leave." He started to walk away but you insisted on staying; you wanted to figure out what was happening with him.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what it did to you, maybe I can help y-" You weren't able to continue talking when Miguel spun around, nose flared and claws showing. His canines were longer, dripping with drool as he stalked towards you.

To say you were scared was an understatement. You had seen the way he dealt with Miles a few months back and you wished that you were never on the receiving side of things, but God wasn’t on your side once again. The grabbing of your jaw wasn't what startled you but it was his claws that sunk into the fat of your jaws causing you to wince.

You wouldn't be surprised if a little bit of blood had started to ooze from within. Once Miguel saw that his grip on you was way too harsh, he pulled away.

A sour look on his face as he turned away from you. A sigh fell from his lips, he truly didn't want your help with his 'problem' but knew you would pester him until he broke so he decided to speak. "It's some sort of substance under the anomaly's claws, it caught me by the rib and it's uh-. You know how I'm different to all the spiders, yes?" The topic being switched didn't go unnoticed by you, but you kept quiet; nodding in acknowledgement, waiting for him to continue.

"Whatever it is, it has affected my body, causing me to go into pre-rut." He trailed off, clearly not wanting you to hear the ending but you caught on; much to his dismay.

It was quiet for a while, Miguel felt ashamed, and you were unsure as to how to feel. "Oh." The only word you could formulate at that moment. He knew you wouldn't have taken what he said, plain as day and he knew rejection was close and, on the rise, so in hopes of keeping his peace, he mentally prepared himself for you to either be disgusted or to simply walk away. While Miguel felt this way, you on the other hand, had been mentally weighing the pros and cons of A, leaving him, B, calling for back up or, C, letting him take his anger out on you in his moment of weakness.

You weren't sure as to what would happen after if you chose A, B or C but one thing was for certain, if you chose C, the dynamic between the two of you would change drastically. Whether you both pay attention to it or not. But you wanted to him help and not from the point of view that you could say you had sex with him but so that he wouldn't have to go back and find some random woman to take his anger out on.

After a few moments of internally weighing the pros and cons of all three, you quietly made your decision. "I can help you," you spoke rather confident with your decision. Miguel on the other hand, wasn't so pleased. "No no, you don't understand. I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, hand pinching the crease between his eyebrows; he was stressed. It was an odd little thing you picked up on from time to time. You still stood your ground, not bothering to listen to his worries or reasons.

Once he saw your posture, he knew you had no plans of leaving just yet. "Y/n, I'm not myself when it happens, I don't know what will happen to you if I let you do this." You lightly shrugged, not necessarily caring about what the outcomes were; you just knew you couldn’t let him go back to headquarters right now. “I’m not taking no for an answer so let’s go back to my place.” You slowly coaxed the stressed man into going back to your earth. Once you made it back, the both of you swung into your apartment via a window that you normally keep open for when you are on Spider woman duties.

Miguel took note of such but said nothing. Making it into the bedroom was the easiest part but the tension that came after was unnerving. You were about to break the silence but Miguel, strangely enough, was quick to speak, immediately shutting you up. “Don’t talk,” he murmured, his lips flush against yours, his hands groping the flesh of your hips.

You whined against his lips, hands flat against his chest as he pushed you back to the end of your bed. “Off. Take everything off.” Miguel pleaded, struggling against the burning pit that was brewing in his stomach. You hurriedly took off your suit, and as soon as your shoes were off, your back was met with the sheets of your bed.

Miguel paused as he looked down at you, his eyes were no longer chocolate brown but a deep crimson red, peering into your soul. His stare was unnerving, chills running down the back of your spine and your stomach churning; it was like an unsaid command, you couldn’t look away, for you thought it felt foreign. The stare-down the two of you had didn’t last long as Miguel pushed you right against the headboard, both hands pulling part of your thighs as he leveled himself with your pussy.

He looked down at your panties, not bothering about the wet spot that had been there before he ripped them off. “Hey, those were my favourite,” you whined, causing him to blast a web against your mouth and hands. “Quiet,” he ordered, his eyes shifting from yours back to your pussy.

The amount of restraint that forced Miguel not to pounce on you as hard as it was already but he hadn’t put into thought the amount of aphrodisiac that the anomaly would’ve used. The moment he had gripped your jaw, he could smell the desire that reeked from your body. It was disgusting but not hard for him to fall for and relish. Without anyone stopping him, he could finally take what is rightfully his, what was always rightfully his.

His nose bumped against your clit as his tongue slipped inside of you, eyes closing in peace as he heard the muffled moans that fell from your lips. Desire ran through his body as he continued to lap up your juices, one hand gripping tightly onto the side of your thigh while the other rubbed circles against your clit.

If that was enough for you, his fangs grazing against your lips caused a tingling sensation to bubble within your stomach. You needed something to hold onto or to grab but with your hands bound, you couldn’t do much other than to wrap your legs around Miguel’s neck, evidently pushing the man further into you.

The feeling was too good, your mind started to fog, too caught up in the pleasure that you were receiving. Miguel could smell that you were close, the way your eyes squeezed shut, tighter than they already were; your legs tightening their hold on his neck, and the sultry way you moved on the body.

“Mi-Miggy. Need more,” you whined, tears forming at the sides of your eyes as you looked down at him; his ruby eyes piercing yours. Although the webbing muffled your words, because of the aphrodisiac, his senses had increased somewhat. To him, it seemed like you were begging for it. But, you weren’t going to get what you wanted just yet.

Miguel pulled away with a pop, saliva dripping down his chin as he came back up. A cry left your lips at the sudden movement, causing the man above you to smile. Your pussy had been puffy with your clit swollen, a light flick to your clit caused you to cry out. Shaking his head, Miguel pulled down his boxers, exposing the tip of it to you. It was pink and swollen, pre cum dripping from the tip.

With one hand, he held one of your thighs in the air so that he could have better access. God, did he struggle; the way both his cum and your juices were pooling out onto the bed and he hadn’t even put it inside you. How he had webbed your mouth shut but still wanted to hear you scream. It surely was conflicting.

Yet you were here, whining and crying over two of his fingers and his tongue. How pathetic. Lining up with your entrance, he pushed into you slowly, still aware that you may be a bit sensitive from before. This time, he pulled the webbing from off your mouth, he wanted to hear you. Better yet, he needed to hear you.

His teeth snagged away at the flesh of his bottom lip, causing blood to seep through. Your back arched at the stretch, not feeling much in ages. Now, the stretch wasn’t what had concerned you, to be far it felt good but it was the coldness from his dick or at the sides of them that make you ponder; only coming to the realisation of what it could truly be.

“Miguel, do you have a Jacob’s Ladder?” you gasped, feeling the metal rub against your insides. Miguel was silent, pausing in slight shock at your question. He looked away from you, slightly embarrassed, “Got in college when I was younger.” He admitted, causing you to giggle at his embarrassment. He growled in return, “Let’s not forget where you are right now, yea?”

“Or what Miguel?” You snipped, a smirk bright on your face as you stared back up at the man. To your surprise, he smirked back at you, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. “Keep that same energy princess,” he replied, no longer keeping eye contact with you as his eyes drifted to where the two of you were connected.

You were about to put in another snide remark when Miguel’s thumb found your mouth, his finger shoved inside as he gave you a look. “Suck.” You did as you were told, letting your tongue explore all around his finger.

“Do they bother you? The piercings I mean?” he asked, with one hand on your jaw whilst the other traced your hips. You shook your head, still sucking on his thumb that had been in your mouth for quite some time. Determining that his finger was wet enough, he pulled away from your lips, wiping away the drool that fell from your mouth.

“Good,” he murmured, hands gripping onto your hips as he thrusts inside of you. You cried out, not expecting the stretch from him. Your hands found his biceps, pleasure spreading all over you as you squeezed his flesh, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had crescent-shaped marks in his skin.

“Ay. You feel good y’know that?” Miguel asked, hips adjusting to thrust deeper; his hand finding its way alongside your jaw before gripping at your throat. Not hard enough to stop your airflow but just enough pressure to make you whine in desperation. Miguel tried hard enough not to sink his teeth into you; his fangs had already been lowered, teeth glowering in the night light, eyes ruby red as he stared down at you.

Unfortunately, enough for you, tears clouded your vision, so you weren’t able to see Miguel’s eyes glow red or the cloud-nine feeling that you were currently experiencing to feel the way he gripped your waist a tad bit tighter than before.

To say the least, you were far gone in pleasure, head nowhere near the current situation. Miguel on the other hand, was not so well. Just like you, he got a bit too caught up in pleasure, how warm you felt around him and the pleas and moans that fell from your lips didn’t help his case either. Miguel started to babble, words falling from the pitiful man’s lips; oh, did he start to spiral. “A-always knew y-you were gonna b-be good f’me.”

He uttered, eyes staring down hopelessly at you. Hips stuttered as he felt you tighten around him. You were close, he could smell it dripping off of you. Stuffing his nose deep into your shoulder blades didn’t soothe his overpowering need to fill you up. Your scent suffocated Miguel, his delusions pulling him deeper into the abyss of darkness. His mind is no longer in control of his movements, they now work on their own. Feeding into the massive hole that his heart created after his wife and daughter died.

It wasn’t right, they shouldn’t have died but canon was canon. Until his monitors picked up you on the servers. You weren’t a new spider since it took Miguel years to develop such software but the anomaly that entered your dimension brought up your earth on the monitors for the first time.

Locking in, Miguel watched, his eyes shifting over each computer as you fought off the anomaly, eyes never leaving your figure until the anomaly was down. Yet, it didn’t stop there. Many days Miguel found himself focusing on your Earth or well more on you; your movements, your fighting style, the way you would nuzzle your nose against your cat’s fur early in the morning when you came back from your late shifts.

The more he watched, the more obsessed he became. It wasn’t supposed to get this far, Miguel was supposed to watch you and how you work but he let his mind wander. He let his heartache again and his mind followed in pursuit. Miguel hated himself for the man he was becoming, a hopeless fool, wanting to nothing but security and peace. Someone to hold him late at night, kiss all his scars away and bear his children in years to come and you, you fit the profile.

You were everything that he needed and so much more. “A-all mine.” Miguel was down and under, suffocating from the spirals and delusions he suffered. His hips thrusted harder into you with every growing minute, fangs dripping with venom as his got closer to your neck. You could feel the tip of his fangs, the sharpness the entail.

“Gonna m-make -shit- you my w-wife, and fill y-you -christ- will all my kids. J-just you and me.” he whispered into your ear. Oddly enough, you hadn’t been too far gone as he thought you would have been. Your clouded eyes came back to full vision when Miguel finished his sentence. Eye bulging wide open as you looked toward the man in fear. He kept murmuring, unaware of your fixed state.

“Mi-Miguel stop.” you pleaded, arms hitting at his shoulders as a sign that you didn’t like it anymore. The said man shook his head in response. “No, no. Al-almost there.” he whispered, tears coming to his eyes as he looked down at you. “Our little family y’know.” He whispered, a sliver of a smile on his face, ruby eyes staring down at you while you shook under him. Tears filling your eyes as you looked up to the man who hovered over you. “What?” you cried, arms pushing against his chest but his dead body weight kept you in one place, so your pushing was pointless. “I’ve -mmph- w-waited so long for you.”

Sweat beaded against his forehead as he rutted into you; hips stuttering slight. You figured he was close, the way his thrusts slowed, his breathing slowed. There wasn’t any way for you to get out of this, so you accepted it. Accepted whatever this thing was. Finally, squirts of cum filled your insides, securing your fate. “I can’t wait to see your stomach big and round y’know. I’m glad you decided to help me. Letting that anomaly run wild and do its thing on me really set my plan into motion.”

#yandere #yandere tw #tw yandere #— 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐕 !#—𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚!#— 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓!#— 𝐬-𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫 !#miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x black reader #x black!fem!reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #black reader #black fem reader #atsv x reader #atsv x black reader #atsv x black!fem!reader #dark content

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amaryscita · 9 months

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𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑠

𝐼𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑀𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑙

Tw/Abusive relationship (mentally) manipulation (Gaslighting, guilt-tripping) stalking, threatening, baby trapping, hidden cameras

𝑀𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑙 𝑂'𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑎

You were Miguel’s favorite and everyone knew it, you’ll pull some pranks with Hobie and you got in less trouble than Hobie, and that was unfair but little did you know you were being punished mentally

Miguel looked at you like you were a child when you disobeyed your parents rules, Miguel then sighed as he touched your hair stroking it making you look at him “God damnit,baby. What did i tell you about being around Hobie.” Miguel scolded as you lowered your head “I’m sorry miggy..” You mumbled as you felt bad about not listening to Miguel :(

But Miguel didn’t care about the prank at all. Well not with you, he cares about the fact you were around talking giggling with Hobie and that pushed Miguel’s buttons. “Don’t you love me? Huh?” Miguel got closer as you backed up “I do Miguel! I do!” You repeated ‘i do, i really do’

Miguel frowned “Then why don’t you listen to me, mi vida? I’ve told you over hundreds of times yet you always go back to Hobie?” He frowned tryna guilt trip you and it was working :(

“I-I won’t talk to him anymore! I promise i promise..! I won’t talk to Hobie anymore!” You were practically on your knees begging for forgiveness and he was enjoying it so much. He pressed his lips against yours as he rubbed your cheek.

He broke the kiss and smiled “Thank you amor, i love you.” You sighed and smiled “I love you too Miguel.” And after that interaction you never even looked at Hobie :(

𝐻𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑒 𝐵𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛

You were a fan of Hobie band and he noticed you who wouldn’t notice someone as attractive as you? He definitely noticed you and now you’re his.

No if’s no but’s no what’s you’re his, so he convinced his band mates to do a meet and greet praying you’d come and guess what? You did! B i n g o! You asked him to sign your card and he signed it of course

But also you were the first inline so he gave you a plushie handmade too!! You were so happy! He also signed your card! “Thank you! Thank you!” You said reacting to the plushie as Hobie smiled “I appreciate you for being a fan darlin.” He winked at you, as you blushed

And then he gave you a special pass?? :0 a pass to go backstage after the new show!! You were so happy you went home with the plushie, you set the plushie down as you told your friends about the interaction.

Little did you know Hobie put cameras in the plushie, so now he’s watching your every move, he’s starting to know more about you and he knows how you have baby fever and stuff. He’s taking that to his advantage

The day of the show

Hobie was excited to see you as he had a turkey baster full with his sperm waiting for you, after the show you made your way backstage as Hobie smiled at you “Hey my favorite fan… can you do me a favor?” Hobie asked as you nodded quickly “Anything for you!!” You said excitedly as Hobie passed you the turkey baster “Can you…can you shoot this inside you..? I just wanna see if it’ll work.” You tilted your head “What happens if it works?”

“It saves me.” Hobie said with a frown “For me..please..?” Hobie looked at you with begging eyes, you didn’t know what was inside it but you decided to trust him as you went to the bathroom and shot it inside you.

And the next show you were three months pregnant. Having a boy.. you didn’t know what happened? You were single?? You wondered if the turkey baster saved Hobie. Next show you seen him and you sighed in relief “Hobie!” You waved as he smiled at you “Hey my favorite fan.” He waved back at you and noticing your stomach “Oh? Hookup gone wrong?” He asked

“No! I just woke up pregnant!” You explained as Hobie smiled and whispered “You saved me.”

You were trapped with his baby.. no escape..

URGH TYSM FOR READING FR

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sanjisluvbot · 11 months

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#x black fem reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #one piece x black!reader #trafalgar law x black reader #yandere strawhats #one piece

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lazyjellyfish300 · 1 month

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In your name.

Villain!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Wife!Reader

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT(P IN V, NIPPLE PLAY, Rough sex, hair pull), POSSESSIVENESS, YANDERE but it's nothing too crazy, mostly just in 1 statement. Word count: a little over 500?

A/N: I've been seeing Villain!Miguel lately, especially by @exhaslo , I can't take all the credit for this. I thought I'd come up with a little something. A little self indulgent, I'm sorry. 💀

-----

Imagine being married to Villain!Miguel. The hero would sacrifice you to save the world. But Miguel would sacrifice the world to save you. You didn't agree with everything he did, couldn't comprehend his reasons for or how he operated against your arch enemy, Spider-Man.

But while he was chaotic, he wasn't evil. He was lawful and reasonable. He wielded a lot of power and calculated it carefully. He exercised restrain and precision. An artist in his own right even if his medium wasn't easily understood by many.

But above all, he adored you, his devoted wife who kept him grounded. Who, in your eyes, gazed wide with galaxies as though you were the one who planted them there. Losing you would be the beginning of his end. And he reminded you of this fact every time your bodies came together in tender expressions of love behind the closed oak door of your bedroom.

He's kissing you passionately, stoic armor of his walls he wore on his hardened exterior crumbled underneath the disarming elixir of your lips, drinking in your honey, essence, as though your heartbeat was really his own.

"Nothing...I wouldn't do for you..." he mutters into your mouth, seizing a fistful of your hair.

"I'll protect you...my only job is to keep you..my darling, my beloved..." He rips open your blouse, taking your breasts in his mouth, laying you down on the pillows.

"I'd ruin stars in your name. The one who takes you from me would be the one who wishes death. Do you hear me? I'm taking you...I'm keeping you. For eternity..."

"Eternity..." You rasped underneath his body, gasping at the feeling of his cock penetrating you sharply in one swift shove, blissfully cooing as you adjust to the delicious stretch he's giving you.

He smirks smugly down at you, leaning closer and propping himself above you as he begins to thrust.

"Not long enough, my darling...no time...is long enough, with you..."

He hisses and you whimper as he seizes your thighs, his fingers digging themselves into the dimpled skin as he locks them around his waist, starting to get a little rough, though you weren't complaining. The bottom half of your body hugged against him, legs locked around his waist as your shoulders lay slumped on the bed.

You tweak and pinch your nipples as you take in the lustful view of your devoted husband lovingly, utterly railing your pussy while he holds your thighs, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead amidst your frothing shared passion.

"Tell me how much you love me..." He whispers.

Your lips part at his shift in tone, a little more desperate than before, almost pleading.

"More than anything..."

"Dios..."(God...)

"More than anyone..." You let out a high pitched gasp.

"Please...por favor, muñeca..."

"More than one has ever loved another..." Your eyes shut tight, your pretty jaw wide open as you let your words trickle out in raw confession, the way he's moving drawing you to say it,

"I belong to you. My body's all yours....use me, sweetheart...only yours" you lovingly surrender.

"All mine..." He groans.

----

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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months

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Eccentricities

Yandere! Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, Dark Themes, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Yandere!Miguel is a warning on his own, spying, peeping, camera use, masturbation (m)

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Enjoy my brain rot I now infect you all I'm so sorry it took me so long to finish

Taglist: @vineberries9 @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Pt. 1

You weren't sure if it was your luck, or your resume that landed you probably the easiest, most well-paying job you've ever worked. But man, were you glad whatever did get it, got it for you.

Little did you know, it was neither.

The truth is... your boss, Miguel O'Hara, noticed when you emailed it to him. Something about the pictures attached stirred something up inside him.

Maybe it was the soft, Mona Lisa-like smile in your photos, or maybe it was something else entirely. He himself didn't know it, the reason why you immediately piqued his interest.

Sure, he's hired female employees before, one or two housekeepers. They were always buxom girls looking for the whole "boss having sex with his hot maid" cliché. One even tried to trick him with a false pregnancy test, just for him to call her out with a body scan right then and there.

And yeah... he almost always wound up fucking them. But that was it. They were good, warm holes to fuck, that was all. Fuck them until he got bored with them, and toss them out; that's what he would do.

Hell, some of them weren't even good fucks... He'd had better sex from random women he brought home from clubs.

Thank god for non-disclosure contracts.

But you... He had a feeling you would last longer than all of them. There was something about you.

And whatever it was, when he met you for the first time in person in that tiny café, was absolutely intoxicating. Your scent, your voice, the way your eyelashes batted your cheeks, even the shy shuffle of one foot behind the other as you spoke with him.

He could already imagine himself splitting you open with his cock, right then and there. Making you gasp, and scream and writhe and beg him to show some mercy at how he would pummel that sweet little cunt of yours; showing everyone there that you now belonged to him.

But patience is a virtue, and good things come to those who wait.

And Miguel O'Hara always got what he wanted, in the end.

It was just a matter of waiting.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

"I just have to say that, I... It's very generous of you to offer me a room to stay in, Mr O'Hara." You say as he leads you down the hall.

"I really can't thank you enough."

He sucked in an imperceptible breath at your little smile and twinkling eyes as you rocked your head back to look up at him and meet his red-brown ones.

He flashed a smile, charming. His teeth were crooked in some places, but for some reason it put you a bit at ease. Despite his sheer size, Miguel looked... Normal. Drop dead gorgeous "normal", but still. It made him... more relatable to know someone like him wouldn't immediately run to a dentist to fix his teeth to project an image of perfection. That he wouldn't give in to vain appearances.

"Of course. You don't have to thank me at all." He said, leading you down the hall of his impossibly large house--no, mansion--to where you would be living.

"All my previous maids have been given their own spaces to live in, it's easier on them so they don't have to worry about arriving late, or paying for taxis or finding their own ways to work." He replied casually.

"Oh, actually, I'm curious about that. I haven't seen other staff around here, why is that?" You chirp innocently.

"Ah, well..." He said, giving a strained smile. He had to think of something. Fast. He couldn't possibly tell you the real reasons why. Maybe.

Yet.

"They simply didn't work out. Many of them didn't follow direction well and were constantly challenging my authority."

You frown, your brows furrowed. "Okay, arguing with your boss sounds kind of... Dumb."

"Indeed." He chuckled, his voice a deep timbre that you swear sent shivers right through your very bones.

"And as for why you are currently my own employee? Well. I do like my privacy." He tells you.

God, the smell of your perfume and the way your lips sparkled from that lip gloss...

"Ahem. Technically, the only other person you'll be seeing is Lyla."

"Lyla?" You echoed.

"Yes. She's my... assistant. Artificial intelligence. Don't let her snark fool you, she's not so bad once you get to know her." He smirked.

He could hear your pulse quicken whenever he smiled.

"Oh! An AI? I've... I've never actually met one. Like a literal one, not the ones they program into taxis..."

"No, she's far more sophisticated than that. Expertly programmed by me, smart... And of course there's the sense of humor, I don't know where she got that... But she won't bother you often." He assured you.

"Oh! Of course..."

"Now, here's your room." He gave you a grin over his shoulder as he reached for the control panel of the double doors. He could hear your heart pitter patter already.

The doors opened with a dramatic whoosh, and Miguel stepped aside for you to walk in.

He felt a smug sense of pride at your shock of the huge room he'd given you for your own personal space, and how you'd murmured that it was larger than your whole apartment.

Luxuriously furnished, it looked more like some kind of... Of ten-star hotel room or something!

The way your eyes sparkled and your mouth parted in a soft, excited smile. Everything about you had his heightened senses on alert, but not in a bad way.

You looked so soft. So delicious. Something about you made him want to devour you, bit by tiny bit.

"Mr. O'Hara, I... Oh I can't thank you enough! This is..."

"I'll leave you to it." He chuckled, giving a wave as he walked past you back out into the hall.

Pausing in the doorway, he gave you one last look.

"And you can call me Miguel... Pequeña ave."

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

He simply couldn't wait and had to violently suppress the urge to drop to all fours and leap like an animal to his office and check the well-hidden, practically invisible cameras he had planted in your room and bathroom.

The moment he entered his office, he locked the door and turned Lyla's access to the room off to leave him to his privacy in case she called him.

Miguel felt a buzzing beneath his skin at the thought of what you could possibly do once you've fallen into a sense of safety and privacy, especially since he'd given you permission to have a few days to become acclimated to your new environment before you had to start work.

He sat on his chair and immediately opened up the files on his monitor, selecting the camera feeds until holograms of you at various angles were projected for him to see.

He watched intently as you unpacked your clothes, placing them in the large ornate dresser.

He already made a mental note to hire movers to bring the rest of your meager belongings to his house.

Yes. Yes.

You would stay.

For as long as he wanted you. And right now he could see himself wanting you for a very, very long time.

The moment you flopped on the bed, your breasts jiggling so beautifully to him, the cute look of surprise as you sunk so deep into the downy mattress before settling in with a relaxed groan that sounded so pornographic to his ears it sent blood rushing straight to his dick.

He leaned back, running his tongue over his fangs as he continued to watch you unwind and unpack, careful not to prick the sensitive muscle on the sharp bone.

He watched you pull a small black box out of one of your suitcases and hastily move to hide it beneath your clothes in your dresser.

Bottom row, far left side, all the way to the back. He made a mental note to inspect that drawer later.

Miguel leaned in towards the projections and tapped the one of you nearest to your new closet as you slipped your blouse off and down your shoulders, revealing your back and the straps of your bra.

The leather creaked under his weight as he shifted, switching the angle to the one directly above the closet, facing down, getting a full downward view of your breasts.

He groaned and reached down to palm at his cock that throbbed in his trousers, stroking the clothed flesh in languid motions, vein beating relentlessly along the length.

He let out a guttural groan when you bent over, slipping your shoes off and placing them on the rack within the closet.

He switched angles as you bent over again and pulled your pants off, revealing your cute ass peeking out from the cotton, cherry-print panties you wore.

He ripped his trousers down to his thighs and fisted his cock in his large hand. He was disappointed you didn't notice he went without boxers today, or maybe you had but were too shy to look.

You were putting on quite the show.

Surely, you couldn't be this naive, right? So innocent? You couldn't just believe some rich man would let you, a cute, sexy little thing live in his house without planting cameras in your room and bathroom?

You must know. You must simply know, and that is why you are sashaying your hips this way and that as you dump your clothes into the laundry bin and grab the vinyl bag containing your hygiene products.

He used his thumb to smear the stream of precum leaking viscously from the head of his cock, groaning as he switched the feed to your bathroom cameras.

He watched you place your pads and tampons in one of the drawers of the vanity, organize your oral hygiene products next to the sink. He studied each bottle of vitamins you placed, his eyes picking up the words "prenatal" on one.

He dropped his head back with a groan and rolled his hips, languidly stroking his dick as his eyes rolled back.

Prenatals. You weren't pregnant, he'd be able to smell it if you were. But already the thought of fucking you full of his cum played in his mind.

His head snapped up when he heard the shower turn on and he frantically switched the feed to the shower cam.

He watched and listened as you hummed a little song to yourself, giggling at the rainfall-like streams that filled the stall.

The way your lips parted and you made that little "oooh" sound had him wondering how you'd sound when he fucked you so hard your eyes crossed.

He began to pump his fist harder, the rivulets of precum giving him ample lubrication to stroke himself.

He ran a hand through his hair as he panted, watching you as you slowly slip your bra off and toss it to the floor, along with your panties.

His hand smashed the control after to change the camera to one that had a better angle of you.

He made a sound that was almost a whimper as you closed the stall door, stepping under the steamy water with a happy and content sigh.

Miguel bit at his bottom lip, fangs threatening to prick the plush skin.

Everything about you was cute and sexy, even that cute little patch of hair between your legs, cut into the shape of a heart.

The thought of lasering that hair off and replacing it with a permanent tattoo of his spider symbol... His own little brand...

He moaned loudly into the dark of his office, feeling his balls draw taut as his orgasm got closer.

Your hands lathered in shampoo, you started scrubbing your hair, your flesh jiggling deliciously as you rinse it out, nails scratching at your scalp.

He wondered what you'd do if he pulled your hair, what sounds you'd make.

He wondered how you'd do if he pulled your hair and made you choke on his cock.

"Mierda!" He hissed, pinching the base of his cock in an effort to stave off his orgasm.

Miguel continued to watch, giving himself teasing strokes as you conditioned your hair right after.

His fist pumped harder and faster when you began soaping up your hands to scrub your skin, cupping your breasts and brushing over your hard nipples.

His breathing was so fast he was practically hyperventilating, the tip of his cock leaking more and more, the length of it throbbing and twitching as you washed the soap off.

When you slipped your hands between your legs to clean yourself there, all Miguel could do was moan pornographically, grabbing at his balls and stroking his cock as he arched his hips off his chair, his thick ropes of cum painting his fingers and dripping down to his palm, splattering a part of his leg and the underside of his desk.

He dropped down, sighing as the buzz of his orgasm slowly faded.

He cut the feed to your room.

And in the dark, bright, ruby-red eyes opened and a fanged smile bloomed.

He was going to enjoy making you his.

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Pt. 2: Link

#yandere!miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse

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yanmaresu · 11 months

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Got stuck thinking about the yandere María O'hara ask where she makes her darling sit on her lap during a meeting, so I had to draw it.

#yandere #yandere fem miguel o'hara #tamaresu art #male darling

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appleblueberry-pie · 3 months

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PIE'S MASTERLIST & RULES

HI, welcome to my page! I love writing on here as my main platform and I enjoy all comments and support under my works, it gives me the boost I need to keep going!

MASTERLIST

JUJUTSU KAISEN

Wanna be cherished by Yan Satoru and Yan Suguru

Wanna be cherished by them rant part 2

Yandere Scarface Gojo

Nurse Geto x Doctor Reader

Dominant Yandere Nurse Geto Headcanons

Yandere Nurse Geto x Female Nurse Reader

Small rant about writing about Sukuna

I need a quick outlet.

Sweetheart Yandere Satoru Gojo

Yandere House"wife" Gojo

Lovesick Nanami Kento Drabble

Broke Yandere Toji

Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's

Diamond Buried in the Dirt Suguru Geto

Suguru Headcanons

Yandere GF Yuki + Yandere Various! JJK Characters

Okkotsu Yuuta

Nanami x Brat ramble

You Are Everything Yandere Gojo

Obviously American Reader x Yandere Gojo x Yandere Nanami

ACROSS THE SPIDER VERSE

Miles Morales.

Miguel O'Hara blurb

I want him SO bad, you guys.

More Yandere 42 Miles Headcanons

You Deserve More Than Me Yandere 42 Miles

Even More Yandere Earth 42 Miles Headcanons

Things Yandere 42 Miles has done without your knowledge

ATTACK ON TITAN

nothing yet lol

ANSWERED ASKS

JJK

Yandere Nanami with Darling who was harmed

Soft Yandere Nanami with Darling who found his wall of dedication

Let Me Take Care of You

And Let Yourself Heal

Yandere Gojo Satoru Soulmaaates!

Yandere Toji Fushiguro New Girl, Same Old Me.

Yandere Yuuta Hungry, Starving, Greedy...

Yandere Satoru Gojo Nobody Has to Understand

Don't separate those lips to tell me. I already know.

Short Submissive JJK Headcanons

Who pays the bills?

Yandere Geto Skin Deep

Darling Accepting Choso and his love

Broke Gojo x Rich Reader Headcanons

Safe Space Yandere Gojo + Yandere Yuuta(separately)

Rejecting Yandere Gojo Satoru

Dehumanizing Yandere Okkotsu Yuuta

Taking complete control over Yandere Satoru Gojo

Finding out Yandere Gojo killed your friend (smau)

Yandere Yuuta as the father of your kids

Yandere Nanami Kento accidentally neglecting his darling

Yandere Yuuta around your mother

Yandere Suguru getting rejected by darling who loves Gojo

Taking care of Yandere Yuuta

Rejecting Yandere Gojo who would never harm you

Accidental Whimper audio(several jjk yanderes SMAU)

ASTV

Possibilities for why Yandere 42 Miles is the way he is now

Yandere Miles nearly losing it when you get asked to prom

Yandere Miguel O'Hara Mine All Fucking Mine

Yandere Miguel O'Hara Dinner is the Dessert

Yandere Earth 42 Miles Morales Pain Isn't Strong Enough

Yandere Miguel O'Hara What Isn't There to Love About You?

Yandere Miguel O'Hara Blood Moon

Yandere Miles Morales Be Mine? Yes or No.

Reader who isn't into Yandere Miles

Yandere Miguel O'Hara Bittersweet

Drabble of your future with Yandere 42 Miles Morales

Trauma bonding with slightly yandere Miguel O'Hara

Earth 42 Miles Morales x Brazilian Reader

Yandere Miguel O'Hara I Thought You Knew Better Than This?

ATTACK ON TITAN

Yandere Levi finding out you didn't come back with your squad

MISCELLANEOUS

About Yandere Content Out There.

Lmao

Never thought this would happen

RULES

What I do write:

Yandere(obviously)

fem reader

gender neutral reader

sfw/nsfw

fluff

anything regular that's not Yandere

bdsm

What I don't write:

Gore

incest/pseudo incest

rape

trans reader or male reader(i don't think I know enough about how it would physically work, in terms of smut)

infantilism

starving/overfeeding

drug usage

Cheating

Part 2's

I hope you enjoy going through my stuff. There is one post I want to put on the masterlist that I literally can't find at all. But nonetheless, this is all of my work so far. I will continue adding works on here as I post more often. It's about time. I want to expand the things I write, but for now, it's just this.

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jessamine-rose · 10 months

Text

‧͙☽˚⋆⁺*˚꒰ Moonrise ꒱˚*⁺⋆˚☾‧͙

Surprise, surprise, the epilogue for The Spider and the Fly was finished early!! To everyone who loved Yandere! Miguel x Variant! Darling’s story, pls enjoy this short continuation which takes place after the events of ATSV (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, self-deprecation, Stockholm Syndrome, mention of nsfw, babytrapping

Note:: Female reader, ATSV spoilers, LYLA and Darling definitely have BFF keychains

♡ 1.6k words under the cut ♡

“He did what?”

“You heard me correctly.” LYLA flickers in front of you, her expression serious. “He escaped to another dimension. So now Miguel is looking for Miles in Earth-1610 while everyone else is scattered across the multiverse.”

“I see…” Your gaze drifts to the empty side of the bed. You can’t help but feel both worried for your lover and impressed by Miles Morales.

“But here’s the good news: Your desk wasn’t damaged when they chased him around HQ! Though you’ll be very busy once you get back to work. There will be a lot of multiverse jumps in the next two days, not to mention damage control.”

Never mind, Miles must be stopped as soon as possible.

The mere thought of all those incoming reports is enough to stress you out. What more for Miguel with the fate of the multiverse?

“And of all days, this has to happen while I’m on sick leave.”

As if on cue, you are interrupted by another coughing fit.

“Do you feel worse?” LYLA quickly does a medical scan, but your results are only slightly better than yesterday’s. “You should get more rest.”

You drink more water, shooting her a grateful smile. “Thanks for the update.”

In the dim bedroom, Miguel’s AI assistant is the brightest source of light. The Nueva York skyline appears gloomy, owing to the heavy rain. Is the weather similar in Earth-1610?

“Is Miguel going to be okay? It sounds like he’s already been through a lot.”

“You know how he is. He won’t go down without a fight.”

She’s right. And based on the records of Miguel’s previous missions, Miles and The Spot will be dead once he catches them. It will be difficult to watch.

There is a moment’s hesitation before LYLA continues speaking.

“He left a message for you: ‘Get well soon. And don’t try anything funny while I’m gone.’”

Now that puts a smile on your face. “Of course. Tell him I understand.”

Two days, less supervision. A stronger ______ would definitely plan an escape attempt while Miguel is distracted, notwithstanding the tracking devices and LYLA’s surveillance. But such an opportunity is wasted on you.

If anything, you already miss him.

…Though it is nice to imagine a break from Miguel. There are only so many warnings, so many hours of his sole company, so many ruined sheets and scarlet restraints before your apprehension resurfaces. His love is as intense as it is twisted.

Regardless, the previous months have been the happiest days of your life. Not even the increase in Anomalies could get between the two of you. There is a certain bond to be found in stressing over the same reports and drinking gallons of coffee together and getting jointly reprimanded by LYLA for “overworking yourselves, amongst other forms of self-neglect.”

Your status in the Spider Society has also changed thanks to the public knowledge of your relationship, sans the dark details. It hasn’t really bothered you, apart from the friendly jokes and knowing looks you get before your regular visits to Miguel’s laboratory.

Thinking about it now, Gwen Stacy has also asked for your help in convincing Miguel to let her visit Miles. Hopefully, she is doing well in her home dimension.

Then again, she is much stronger than you. She can handle this.

A holographic screen pops up. Reading it, you follow the scheduled reminder and take your medications. At least your cold has subsided.

LYLA watches you. “You’ll make a full recovery in no time. I’ll inform Miguel.”

“That’s good to know. Can you please relay another message to him?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“‘Good luck. I’m counting on you.’” You finish your cough syrup and close the screen. “‘And please take care of yourself.’”

Even today, he made time for you. A spoon-fed breakfast. A hands-on medical examination. Caldo de pollo and other healthy pre-cooked meals. Brief video calls. A text message explaining that he would come home late due to The Spot, now unsent.

“At least it means I can delay the news.”

LYLA gives you an inquisitive look. “What news?”

You open the bedside drawer and take out a used pregnancy test.

She gasps. “Are you…?! But your medical scan—”

One line.

“Oh.” She double-checks the device for confirmation. “Another negative, huh?”

“Yeah.” After returning it to the drawer, you lie down and wrap yourself in more blankets. “Can you keep it a secret this time? I want to tell him myself.”

“Sure.” She looks at you with renewed concern. “Hey, you okay? It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

Still, you’ve grown tired of seeing the same result or more precisely, Miguel’s reactions. How many more times can you watch his gaze shift from hopeful to disappointed? By now, you’re already taking fertility drugs and discussing adoption—not that there’s anything inferior about the latter, but your Variants were able to conceive their child. Why can’t you?

Just last week, you noticed a medical article amongst his holographic screens. Miguel had highlighted a paragraph about the connection between stress and fertility. You don’t know if the research was for you or him; but either way, nothing can be done about that.

Worst of all is the relief you feel every time you see that single line. It feels like a secret betrayal, the final shred of your sanity in collaboration with your reproductive system.

“How did she do it?”

“What?” LYLA gives you a confused look.

You lie on your side, facing her. “My Variant. I mean, she was obviously healthier and also in favor of having kids, but…how did she manage? Wasn’t she ever scared of making a mistake with Gabriella? Is it even possible for us to raise a family as happy as theirs?”

“Hey, you’ll figure it out.” She gives you a kind smile, the perfect simulation of sympathy. “It’ll be Miguel’s first time, too, you know. Your pregnancy, your baby, and everything else will be just as new to him. And you can always count on Jess or Peter B for advice.”

“He did say that I’ve warmed up to Mayday…though she still prefers Miguel.”

“Nah, that’s only cuz he lets her treat him like a playground.”

Sitting up, you look around the room. It has undergone a few redecorations since you’ve moved in, under Miguel’s permission and LYLA’s encouragement. Everywhere you look, your personal items are mixed with Miguel’s.

The desk holds a jewelry box, one of your first belongings in Nueva York. The bottom drawer holds an assortment of rings, most of which were purchased on your last shopping date.

It wasn’t anything romantic. For someone who can read several reports and statistics at the same time, Miguel looked almost overwhelmed by the variety of clothes and accessories which caught your attention. LYLA’s opinion was more helpful and fashion-literate.

…He did call you pretty in the fitting room. The comment was totally unprompted for a dress which looked no different from your usual outfits. Up until that point, you had been observing your reflections with a mix of critical looks and pleased smiles.

After blushing, you quickly brushed it off as a matter of preference—LYLA did say that he likes your personal style more than your Variant’s. It’s more suitable for Nueva York.

Never mind that his gaze was on your face, not the dress.

…

Maybe one day, a special ring will be added to the jewelry box. Hand-picked by Miguel, made of any material except pearl, a perfect fit for your ring finger. It will be deserving of a place in the hidden compartment, where you keep your collection of pretty red spiderwebs.

When you receive it, it will be a special moment exclusive to you and your Miguel O’Hara—the versions of you who met on a moonlit night in the shadows of New York City.

Whatever happens, he still loves you. You, despite your flaws and every trait which sets you apart from his Variant’s wife. That is a promise you can believe in.

The room is too cold, so you adjust the air conditioner and take out another blanket. It won’t be as warm in Miguel’s absence.

You should get more rest. The sooner you recover, the sooner you can get back to work and give him one less thing to worry about.

After his mission, you’ll welcome him home as always. He will reciprocate your kisses, call you by your special nickname, and appreciate the food you prepared—his favorites, to celebrate another saved universe. If he looks tired or stressed, you will be the one to comfort him.

…Then you will show him the pregnancy test.

The hope will appear and vanish from his gaze. There will be reassurances directed at both you and himself. Miguel will give you a hug and soft kisses, which became part of the routine after the second test. After that, he will move on to a new topic or suggest a movie night.

Then during your next ovulation, you will be confined for a different reason. You will have to deal with Miguel’s company, his passionate touches, his lovesick declarations, his desperation for your own version of domestic bliss. A small, pathetic part of you has begun to look forward to it.

If he defeats The Spot and Miles Morales.

“Hey, LYLA?” you whisper.

She moves closer to your face. “Yeah?”

“If this continues…he’s not going to alter my DNA, is he?”

“…That’s the last resort. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

♡

Prologue ft. Wife! Darling ๑ Side Stories

So did I jumpscare y'all with the early release of Moonrise?? It’s part of a double feature with Sunset, hence the contrasting titles and simultaneous ideas. But aahhh little did I think that I'd finish this fic ahead of schedule~

Lots of love to my beta-reader @diodellet!! And thanks again to everyone who expressed their love for my Miguel O’Hara writing. May my next idea be less painful for all of us :’>

Tag a Miguel O’Hara enjoyer!! @yanmaresu @yandere-romanticaa @yandere-daydreams @bweoo @kocherry @oofasleep @h2o2-and-baking-soda @yandere-wishes @hisachuu @weebsinstash @handsomeunderwear-art @literaree @pumpkin-toffee @curesi @miggyyyyohara @abyssalrot @letskidaddle @miguelswifey04 @skeleton-on-wheels0

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