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#IS THE PROJECTION PROJECTIONING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE MIGUEL
fellhellion · 11 months
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The way Miles accidentally hits what seems to be - given the severity of Miguel’s reaction - such a huge fucking bruise with the “Are those claws? Dude, are you sure you’re spiderman?” and it’s this trigger for Miguel just fucking. Exploding with everything he’s kept under lock and key like. Resentment over the way he seems to feel deeply isolated in the emotional burden of what he does, blaming Miles for what he believes was the catalyst which led to him being in this position (RIPeter’s death), hitting back (verbally) to hurt with the anomaly comments when it’s like dude. If they keep your origin intact, you’re both the so similar, and because this kid is living proof of every doubt you’re trying to suppress.
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saviourfinn · 1 year
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Anyway i hate Miguel he's projecting all his guilt and issues on a 15 years old kid, yelling at him and making him feel like shit by blaming him for things that literally were not his fault.
Like, Miguel YOU're the one who purposefully messed up with the multiverse by stealing your counterpart's identity and burrowing yourself in his world with his family. Miles, who just happened to be a victim of Kingpin, Doc Ock, and the Spot's messing up with the collider, is NOT responsible for anything bad that happened. The call comes from inside the house lol.
Also him refusing to accept Miles into the "Spider family" and telling him he will never belong, when himself was so desperate for a family that he fucked up the multiverse... the clownery is outrageous.
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pillarofsnow · 4 months
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Miguel silently seethed as he watched the live feed on the orange hologram in his lab. His talons slicing through his desk as he gripped at it mercilessly.
He watched as you sobbed in the the living room of the shared home you had with his variant. He watched as his variant had walked out the door and your life, too engrossed in his projects at Alchemax than his marriage and potential family.
And that enraged him.
This variant could have had everything Miguel could have ever wanted.
A normal life.
A beautiful wife.
A family.
…….Gabriella
And he threw it all away.
Miguel let out a low growl from his throat as he looked away from the screen. He was tempted to shut the live feed off, no longer being able to watch you suffer due to a stupid decision on his variants part. He hated seeing you sit alone in a big house that is a reminder of broken promises and dreams. He silently prayed to any entity for either that variant’s downfall or wake up call.
However, that thought was cut short when he heard you softly whimper in pain. His eyes snapped up to the screen as he watched you swipe something off your hand before quickly grabbing a glass cup and trapping the culprit inside. Miguel zoomed in on the screen to see two small puncture wounds on your hand before switching to what was in the glass.
Oh.
Oh.
Maybe fate wasn’t as cruel as he thought. Maybe this could be his second chance.
He’ll show you how you should be treated when the time comes…..until then he’ll patiently wait.
He has to welcome the new Spider-Woman after all.
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You Missed My Heart: PART 1
PART 1 LINK      |      PART 2 LINK      |   PART 3 LINK
Description: Miguel had died months ago. At least, my universe’s Miguel had died. Maybe I should have noticed when I could feel him touching me in my dreams, but grief is a hell of a thing. That is, until I woke up in a house that looked just like mine, but somehow different. 
Miguel had taken me from my universe and put me in one where he could relive his past, whether I liked it or not. 
Word Count: 11,107  Author’s Note: I wrote this instead of doing my college work, but I also didn’t proofread. Hopefully there aren’t too many typos! I’ll probably add more chapters in the following days/weeks Content Warning: smut, mild breeding kink, reader is being held against their will, Miguel being manipulative and an ass, bit of angst (I mean his wife and child are dead so yeah)
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          Minors DNI! Story is below the cut
The dream was hazy. Miguel sighed as he began to inch toward the edge of the mattress, drifting out of the shared embrace that we had slept in. Arms and legs untangled from one another as he drifted away from me.
I reached my hand outward, catching onto his hand before he could slip away for good. “I need to go to work.” He whispered, his voice husky and warm from sleep. But, despite his protest, he lay back down beside me. “Don’t go.” I said. My hands worked their way through the darkness, moving to curl around his broad shoulders. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to feel his strong heartbeat against my chest and listen to him breathe one more time. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t real. I didn’t care that this was now a soft and distorted memory; this was all I had left of him. I had convinced myself weeks ago that if I dreamed of him enough, it would almost be like he wasn’t gone. “I have to. Alchemax is unveiling a new project today and I have to be there.” He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. His breath was warm, working as a perfect antagonist for the frigid air of our bedroom. “Please Miguel.” I begged. He cut me off by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss was languid and wet. Our bodies were still naked from the previous night’s activities as he rolled on top of me. “Miguel…” I whispered. “Please don’t leave me.” “I’m not going anywhere.” He said. His lips slipped off of mine as he lowered his face, moving so that his mouth could graze the shell of my ear. There, he whispered the one thing I thought I would never hear again. “I love you…”
Something brushed the side of my face, pulling me from my dream. I jerked upward, searching for what had caused it. But I couldn’t see through the pitch black of the bedroom. In the darkness, I was so sure that I could smell him. He had been dead for months, but his scent still lingered in the walls and all of the soft places in the house. It was to the point that I was terrified of moving or washing anything; if I did, that last piece of him would vanish forever.
Hot tears slid down my face.
I had been crying again. But that had become such a common occurrence that I couldn’t even be surprised. Tears slid down my neck, soaking into the collar of Miguel’s Alchemax t-shirt that had been worn thin. Crying had become an every night thing since the funeral. Maybe if I could understand what the hell even happened to him, then I could be okay. But there had been no information about any of it. I had been told there was an accident at work and that there was nothing that could have been done to save him. But the term accident meant so many different things.
I lifted my hand to my cheek to wipe away the next batch of tears. But, as my fingers brushed my skin, I couldn’t help but notice the distinct warmth on that side of my face.
Had someone been here?
Had the gentle brush been entirely in my head?
I swallowed hard as my eyes searched the darkness. “Miguel?” I asked. But there was no answer. The delusional part of me wanted to hear him stir inside of the bathroom that attached to the bedroom. I slid my hand outward, searching through the sheets that would always remain cold.
The black out curtains that covered my window blocked out any light from the city. The only light in the room was from the small machine that Miguel had set up in the corner. I was never sure what exactly it did, but it always gave off a pale blue glow.
I glanced around the room, seeing that the pictures were all still lying face down on the dresser and bookshelves.
Nothing was different. He was still dead, and I was still alone.
I swallowed hard as I reached for the bottle of sleeping pills that sat on the bedside table. I had gotten them after stepping off one of the curbs in Nueva York without looking. But, before anything could happen, a man had grabbed me, jerking me out of the way seconds before my body had the chance to collide with the car that was racing down the street. Maybe if I hadn’t been so exhausted, then I would have thought before I walked.
The pills were my only chance at getting any rest these days. I unscrewed the top of the bottle, dropped one of the white pills into my hand, and then replaced the white plastic lid. I discarded the bottle onto the nightstand and then popped the pill in my mouth.
I just needed to go to sleep. If I could sleep, then I could see him again.
I leaned back against the sheets, watching the walls of the hallway through the open door of our bedroom. If I hadn’t known better, I could have sworn to God that I saw a faint orange and pink glow dance against the walls before being consumed by darkness.
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No dreams came. My vision was dark, trapping me in a dreamless darkness. The pills always made my body heavy with sleep; it was almost impossible to open my eyes when I was like this. I didn’t see him in my dreams, but I could hear him. His voice was faint, speaking in delicate murmurs.
Fingers brushed against the skin of my face as he pushed several of my curls behind my ears. It was something he had always done, especially when I was sitting on the couch beside him. I had always wondered if he did it so that he could see my face or if it was just his way of getting my attention. But I guess that didn’t matter now.
I flinched at the reminder.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m here.” Miguel whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. I felt the bed move under me, sinking on the edge as he sat down. “I’m gonna keep you safe.”
“You need to drop this.” A soft female voice said. Her voice was no more than a whisper.
“I can’t do that.” Miguel’s voice was firm; he had already made up his mind.
“Miguel, you’re torturing her. Just leave her alone.” The delicate voice pleaded. Behind my eyelids, I saw pink and honey color light flash. “Give her time. Let her mourn then let her move on. Maybe she could be happy. She could get married and have a good life.”
“Lyla, I’m not sure if you know this, but telling me that my wife is going to fuck someone else and that that’s why I should let her go has the exact opposite effect.”
“Let her be happy.” The girl pleaded.
“She should have died. I’m saving her.”
“Miguel, please let her go. Please, I really-” I heard him click something, making the second voice fall silent.
Warm arms slipped under my legs as I was overwhelmed by the smell of Miguel.
My Miguel.
He smelled faintly of cologne, sweat, and something else. He pulled me into his arms, laying my body against his strong chest. I felt him grab a heavy arm and place it on his shoulder. Beneath my fingers, I felt a weird material cover his skin.
What the hell?
I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t force myself out of the dream. The medication weighed me down, anchoring me into this strange haze.
Miguel bounced me in his arms a couple of times. I groaned, feeling him stand up. One of the blankets caught on my foot, tugging on my tired body. Miguel gently tossed the blanket onto the bed, offering a few more gentle bounces to my body as he started to walk.
“You’re going to be so happy.” He whispered. Miguel pressed a second kiss against my skin.
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Blinding light came streaming through the window. I winced, lifting my hand to shield my eyes. I lay there for a moment before a thought occurred to me.
When was the last time I had been awakened by sunlight?
Miguel had always worked such random hours that we had hung thick blackout curtains over the window so that we had a chance at getting some sleep.
“What?” I pushed myself up in the bed, feeling my t-shirt drop down to cover the soft skin of my stomach. But the left side was caught on something, keeping that side of my abdomen exposed. I glanced down to see a thick bracelet that had been attached to my wrist. I pulled the shirt off of the bracelet, allowing it to fall and give me some sense of modesty as I glared at the contraption.
What the hell was this thing?
I glanced around, searching for some idea as to what was going on.
The only clue was a bright orange post-it note that had been pressed onto the bedside table. It was sitting between a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. Plucking the note off of the table, I quickly began to read it.
‘Please don’t be scared. I’ll be back soon. Take this for your head. It will take a bit to get used to all of this.’ It had been signed with a name that immediately made me shutter.
Miguel.
No. No. No.
Did I die?
Or did I finally go insane?
I pushed myself out of the bed, searching for some clue as to what the hell was going on. This was my bedroom. At least, it looked like it was. The closet was the same, the bookshelves were the same, even the weird off-blue shade that Miguel had picked for the walls was the exact same.
It was then that something caught my eye. All of the pictures were sitting upright. I could see our mutual smiles behind the glass. They were photos of us on dates, photos of us at the weird events that Alchemax held, and even some of the more intimate photos we had taken of us in bed with our bodies barely covered by the thin ocean of sheets.
I stepped forward, moving toward the closet. I jerked one of Miguel’s button-ups off of the hanger and inspected it. The spot where he had spilled wine on the cuff was missing. Instead, the material was bleach white.
This was wrong. This was all wrong.
Everything was familiar, but still foreign somehow. There were sheets that were the same color but didn’t have soft faded patches that had been acquired from stains during love making. There were clothes that I remembered wearing, but they didn’t have the small tears or stains in them. Everything was put together from memory, but it wasn’t my memory.
If I didn’t look too closely at it, it could almost be perfect.
Slowly, I stepped forward. As I moved toward the dresser, I stopped. In my home, my real home, there was a creak in the floorboard. Miguel had spent an entire weekend trying to fix it after we had moved in, but it was all in vain.
Maybe I was just paranoid. That was the only solution.
I leaned backward, then forward again in an attempt to get the floor to creak.
A deafening silence filled the room.
I reached down and pulled at the bracelet. It was heavy on my arm. I slipped my fingers under the band, attempting to pry it off of me. But it was no use. It had been secured at the base, making it impossible to remove.
Then, I did the only thing I could think of.
I ran.
I bolted from the bedroom, moving down the hallway. When I reached the stairs, I took them two by two. Frankly, I was amazed that I didn’t slip and break my neck. But fear is a hell of a motivator. I sprinted through the living room, searching for the front door of our house. I threw open the front door and rushed outside, ignoring the fact that I wore only a thin t-shirt and underwear.
I needed to get the hell out of there; I didn’t care about being modest at this point.
It was Nueva York; the buildings were the same, so was the noise. Sounds of construction, traffic, children playing, and music blasting filled the air. But, I couldn’t help but notice the main thing that was missing: no people or vehicles.
“Hello?” I called.
But I was all alone.
“Hello?” I screamed.
Something grabbed my hand, jerking me backwards. I stumbled but was caught before I could collide with the pavement. Strong arms curled around my waist and hauled me upward. I flailed my arms and kicked out my legs in an attempt to get free, but it was no use. The figure turned around and began to carry me back to the house as if I was nothing more than a doll. “You weren’t supposed to leave the house.”
I knew that voice. It was the one that haunted my dreams and filled my every ‘what-if.’
Miguel.
“What the fuck?” I screamed.
“Stop trying to fight me.” His voice was flat. I glanced behind me to look at him. He wasn’t my Miguel. His eyes flickered somewhere between chocolate brown and blood red. The muscles on his shoulders were more defined and the line between his eyebrows was deeper. But maybe that was because of the dark scowl that he wore as he carried me up the small steps of the brownstone.
When he stepped inside of the house, he threw me onto the hardwood floor. As my head hit the floor, he reached behind him and flipped the deadbolt.
That was to make sure that I didn’t try and escape again.
Miguel wasn’t dressed how I was used to. My Miguel always wore some kind of standard, normal clothes. Nicer clothes for work, soft pants, and sweatshirts at home. But this man, the imposter, wore a red and blue costume that stretched over his hard muscles and accentuated his domineering frame.
“You were supposed to wait. I said I would be back soon.”
“Who the hell are you?” I twisted my body so that I was sitting up on the hardwood floor. I pulled my legs close to my body, attempting to hide my thin underwear from him.
“You’re joking right?” He asked. He stood over me, inspecting me with a look of both confusion and disappointment.
“No, I’m not. And what the hell did you put on my arm?” I shook my wrist, trying to loosen the device.
“Stop trying to take it off. If you do, you’ll die. Unless that’s what you’re hoping for.” He said as he studied me. I froze.
“What?”
“It keeps you alive in this universe. You’re not from here; you don’t belong here, so if you take that off, you’ll glitch until you die.”
I glanced around the room, taking in all of the little imperfections. The room was wrong, reminding me that I was in some kind of strange prison.
“What is all of this?” I asked. Miguel stared at me at if the answer was so obvious.
“It’s our home.”
“No… no, it isn’t.” I said. “What did you do to me?” I pushed myself off of the floor. As I did, I pulled at the bottom of the t-shirt. The man stared at me, his eyes dancing between the terrified look on my face at the pale skin of my naked legs. As his eyes drank me in, I could see them turning to a deeper shade of red.
“Who are you?” I asked. He let out a dark chuckle. As he did, I couldn’t help but notice that sharp white fangs that protruded from his mouth.
“Sweetheart…”
“Don’t call me that.” I said. He rolled his eyes.
“Look, I’ve been very sweet to you. But now you’re starting to piss me off.” His voice was sharper this time. He moved toward me and I stepped back.
“Why do you look like him?” I asked. He knew exactly what I meant.
“Because I am him… in a way.”
“I don’t understand.” I said. He once again tried to fill the distance between the two of us. I stepped backward, feeling my back hit the side of the couch. “You died… he died.”
“In your universe, yes. Please call me Miguel. I know this may be new to you, but I am your husband, just a different version of him. I mean you no harm.” The dull ache from being thrown on the floor said differently. “I did all of this because I love you.”
“You don’t know me.” I said. I slid my hands against the side of the couch in an attempt to find something to cling to. He let out a dry laugh.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I know you in every single universe. I’ve known more versions of you than you can imagine. Versions where you live, versions where you die. So, in a way, I know you better than you even know yourself.”
“If you knew me so well, then you would know Miguel and I never married.”
“Purely semantics. Besides, that’s something that I fully intend on correcting.”
“You’re insane.” I said.
“Don’t fucking call me that. You have no idea how hard I worked to fix everything for you; how hard I worked to make sure that everything would be perfect.”
“Miguel, where the fuck am I?” I demanded. “And I don’t want you to keep saying I’m home. This isn’t my home. Where am I?”
“You could be a little bit more grateful. You should have died.” He said. “You weren’t supposed to be pulled out of the way of a car and you were.”
Anger flashed through me. Just looking at him filled me with a mixture of rage and sadness that mixed together in a sludge that did nothing but make me want scream at him. “I’m supposed to be dead? You’re dead! I went to your funeral! There’s a goddamn sign in the Alchemax lobby for you.” My throat burned and my eyes stung with tears. “Was that all some kind of sick lie?”
“No, your Miguel did die.” His voice was matter of fact- almost cold. It was as if he had said this all a million times before. Hell, for all I knew, he had. Maybe this was some kind of sick game he liked to play. “But, that’s no matter. I’m here now. I made a little pocket universe for you; where you can live and where you being here won’t affect anything. You can stay here with me, and things will be exactly as they should be.” I glanced at the locked door behind him. “You being here won’t affect any other universe and it keeps you out of your own, making sure that all of the canon events happen exactly as they should. The canon is safe and you get to live. Two birds, one stone.” He was so proud of himself.
“Do I have a choice in staying with you?”
His face twitched at my question. “I’ve watched you cry for him at night. I’ve heard you scream and beg for him to come back. You wear his clothes and listen to his music and talk to yourself like he’s still there. For God’s sake, I’ve watched you touch yourself to pictures of him. I just assumed you would have had a warmer reception to me.”
“You had no right to spy on me.” I winced, remembering the feeling of my face being touched in my sleep. He had been there, watching me as I mourned. Besides, there was something in the way he emphases a warmer reception. He was hoping I would immediately adore him and drag him into the bedroom to screw until I couldn’t walk straight. He wanted us to immediately slip into some weird little habit where I pretended to be his loving wife. He said I died in other universes. Was I his replacement, just as he hoped to be mine?
Miguel sucked on his teeth before he stepped forward.
Without thinking, I twisted my body around and bolted toward the kitchen. I had no idea where I was even going; I just wanted to be away from him.
I got about five steps away before he reached outward and grabbed me. This time, his hold was harder. His arms crushed themselves against my body as he lifted me upward and began to carry me toward the stairs. This time, he was holding me so tight that I was sure he was going to break my ribs.
“You’re hurting me.” I gasped.
“Then stop trying to leave me.” He said. “You’re not going to get far and you’re just going to end up hurting yourself.”
He carried me up the stairs, his eyes dark red in the dim light. He carried me to the bedroom at the end of the hall. When he reached the room, he looked down at me.
“Say you love me.” It was a second chance. I paused for a moment, trying to find a way to fake sincerity.
He wasn’t my Miguel. He wasn’t my angel who I curled up with on the couch or who insisted on making me listen to old music that nobody but him would ever like. This man didn’t have that gentleness about him; he wasn’t sweet or loving.
“I love you.” I tried. I knew I sounded like I was faking it.
“At least I know you’re a shitty actress.” He muttered. He dropped me on the floor of the bedroom and then stepped outside before I had a chance to make another getaway. He slammed the door shut.
“Miguel, please let me out.”
“Ah, now you want to be nice to me.” He mocked.
“You kidnapped me. I’m sorry if I’m not the person you were hoping for. If you want someone better, just get a different me from some other place. I’m sure the universe is just littered with them.”
“I saved you. Your universe would have collapsed if it weren’t for me. I offered you the chance to live in a different place, where none of that can ever hurt you and you hate me for it. You want to be pissed? Be my guest. But in time, you’ll love me. I know you will. You always do.”
“Yeah, Miguel, it doesn’t feel like you’re giving me a choice in the matter.” I said. “Why can’t you just find another girl? Anyone else?”
“It has to be you. Because it always is, no matter what. Every time, we end up together so I can’t just grab some random person. Besides, there aren’t too many of you who aren’t already with some version of me. Stealing wives from other versions of me just sounds wrong.”
Yeah, that would be the wrong part. Not the whole kidnapping thing. He keeps flipping between lunatic and romantic who is waxing poetic about our deep love. Maybe I would have been charmed if I had actually known this man. Plus, there was something weird about the way he said it. Had he considered it? How did he find widows versus wives?
“Miguel, sweetheart, how about you let me out of here and then we can find some kind of arrangement that we both like?”
He rolled his eyes as he locked the door from the outside. “When you decide to be the version of you that I know and love, then we can talk.”
Bastard.
I kicked the door, but I knew it was useless. He was already walking away from the door. In the distance, I heard his voice as he began to speak to someone else.
“Lyla, I’m a little busy right now.”
“It’s urgent.” She said.
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It was hours before he came back. I didn’t hear him when he was stepping toward the door. I only heard him when he unlocked the door and let out a low sigh.
“I brought you dinner. It’s in the kitchen. I expect you to eat dinner with me tonight.” He said.
“Thank you.” I squeaked out. I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I was starving. Besides, if this was his idea at a peace offering, who was I to reject. He obviously didn’t want to return me to my real home. Maybe I should just get used to this. “I’ll be down in a minute. I want to clean up a little bit.” I said.
“I’ll get everything ready.” He said. With that, I heard him step away from the door of the bedroom. At least he was receptive to me needing a moment, rather than dragging me downstairs to eat right now.
I sighed to myself as I pushed myself off of the bed. I couldn’t just wear a t-shirt and underwear. I already looked like an absolute mess. My face was swollen from crying and my curls had turned into a frizzy mess from being manhandled so many times in the last twenty-four hours.
My best bet was a shower to calm me down and hopefully take away some of the puffy redness around my eyes and nose. I didn’t want him to see that I had sobbed when I was alone; he may have carted me around in my underwear, but I still had my dignity.
There was a small bathroom attached to the room. It was one that I was familiar with. It was exactly like the one at my house; there weren’t any superficial tweaks that he had made. At least, none that I could see upon first inspection.
I quickly showered, scrubbing my body gently as I went. As I slid a loofah along the sides of my body, I winced. Dark bruises were starting to blossom across my ribs from where he had squeezed as he carried me.
Damn it, that hurt!
I winced as I washed my body, careful not to aggravate any new sore spots that I had gotten. I then washed my hair, making sure that it was nice and clean.
Stepping out of the tub, I realized that I hadn’t grabbed a towel. I was sure that he would put them where I always did. After all, that was really the only place for them in the bathroom. I quickly ducked down and pulled open the door to the bathroom cabinet. The towels had been stacked on one side, random trinkets and things he had brought for me rested on the other. I snatched a towel from the pile as I eyed the objects.
They were the usual fair, mixed in with a few oddballs. Tampons, deodorant, razors, women’s shaving cream, a perfume that I wore pretty often, a couple of bottles of hand and body lotion, a toothbrush, toothpaste, an eyelash curler, a new tube of mascara, hair gel, and a dozen or so other hair things. I sighed and quickly added several of the things to the counter. I needed to brush my teeth and do my hair. As I stacked those things on the counter, I couldn’t help but notice that there were more things resting against the very back of the shelf. Against the wall sat two small pink boxes that were still in their clear wrapping from the drugstore. I frowned as I pulled them forward, moving them closer so that I could see them. The first was a new box of pregnancy tests. I shook the box; sure enough, it actually contained what it said it did. Part of me expected the box to be a decoy and to either be empty or filled with something outwardly sinister, like a camera. Why did he buy me pregnancy tests? I flipped the second box over and was greeted by a bulk box of ovulation test strips, meant to check for when I was ovulating. I winced equally at both of the packages. I quickly shoved them back into the cabinet and closed the door.
Part of me wanted to know why those were what he chose to buy me; the other part was scared to know the answer.
I quickly stood up and began to dry off. It was a short time between when I finished showering and when I stepped out into the bedroom, my hair styled with my curls down, my teeth brushed, and my skin dried of any excess water.
Stepping to the closet, I noticed that all of the dresses in the closet were too formal. Most of the clothes that I typically wore were missing. No t-shirts, jeans, or even standard pajamas. Damn it, Miguel. I quickly walked over to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer.
Based on what was there, my best bet was the baby pink nightie that lay on the top of the pile of clothes. It was obviously new; a tag was still attached to the spaghetti strap and frankly, I had never seen it before, so I figured that it was something he had picked out himself.
I pulled the dress on, wincing when it stopped several inches above my knees. I pulled on a pair of underwear and then snagged a grey cardigan from the closet in an attempt to have a chance at being warm.
What I was wearing was closer to lingerie than actual clothing, but that didn’t seem to matter at this point. He had dragged me around twice in my underwear, on top of the fact that he said he had watched me touch myself to him. My face burned at that thought.
Besides, if he was right and we were always together, then none of this would be new to him. But maybe it would make him be nicer to me if he thought I was being nicer to him.
I stepped through the hallway, careful not to lose my footing in the dim light. As I went, I couldn’t help but notice one of the more glaring differences between my universe and this was. The door to the room that rested next to the bedroom wasn’t stained with its dark russet shade. He had painted this door yellow. That was clearly a recent change; the air still smelled heavily of paint. But why the hell had he painted it in the first place? Maybe he was used to it being a different color and was perfecting it to fit his little fantasy.
I made my way downstairs. He was sitting in the small breakfast nook that rested in the kitchen. He had set out the white plates and arranged the food so that I had easy access to everything. As I rounded the corner, he glanced upward. Something stirred in his dark eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Miguel was sitting at the table, pushing around an eggroll with a plastic fork. He had changed out of his standard red and blue spider suit into an old sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants.
Lucky bastard.
He looked tired. He had a dark stain of blood on his left cheek and I was sure that it wasn’t his. I didn’t want to think about whether or not the owner of that blood was still alive, because I knew there was a good chance they weren’t. I watched him for a moment before I stepped away from the table. He frowned, watching me closely. I was sure he was watching to verify that I didn’t make another run for it. I quickly pulled a washcloth out of one of the lower cabinets by the sink and then turned on the faucet. Once the water ran warm, I wet the rag, wrung it out so that it wasn’t dripping, and then I turned off the water.
I stepped back into the small dining area. “Miguel.” I said in an attempt to get his attention. His tired eyes drifted up to meet mine. The eyes that were once a burning red were now a warm brown. They were almost the shade of coffee. He watched me with such an intensity that it made my face turn a dark maroon. I was sure that he noticed, but he didn’t remark on it.
I leaned down slightly, moving so that my standing height could line up with his sitting size. God, he was so damn tall. “Miguel, here. You have blood on your face.” He reached up to take the cloth but was surprised when I gently pressed the warm material to his face. “Just hold still for a second.” I whispered. For a moment, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had changed out of his suit for comfort or if it was just as coated in blood as his face was. The idea made me shudder internally.
I gently wiped away the dried blood, folding the cloth as I went so that I didn’t rub old blood against his face. When I reached the hollow of his cheek, I slipped one hand under his strong jaw and had him tilt his face to the side in an attempt to give me a better angle. He closed his eyes, giving in to the gentle touch.
He was touch starved. I could tell by the way his breathing slowed and the hairs on his arm stood on end. He wasn’t used to being touched; not anymore. Not in any way that offered any kind of tenderness.
“There you go. All clean.” I said. He opened his eyes and he nodded. His eyes then dipped downward toward my dress.
“Nice outfit.”
“It would appear that most of my actual clothing is gone. So, I have plenty of clothing for the bustling city life outside and I have plenty of lingerie, but everything else is a bit sparse.”
A smile pulled at his lips with my comment. Then, he nodded. “I’ll bring you your clothes from your home universe.”
“Thank you.” I said. Miguel leaned forward and grabbed a container of orange chicken.
He had ordered us Chinese food. It was something that I couldn’t help but note was the same as we had had on our first date. I glanced at the label and confirmed that it was the same restaurant and everything. We had eaten there the night we had first met. We had dipped out of a party at Alchemax early. I hadn’t wanted to be there, but my father had worked there for so many years that it almost felt like an obligation. When I had turned to leave too fast, I knocked wine all over Miguel, but he hadn’t seemed to mind.
“Are you okay?” This Miguel asked. I quickly nodded as I was pulled from the distant memory.
“I am. Thank you for dinner.” I pushed a small amount of food onto my plate and then returned the container to the center of the table.
“You need to eat; really eat.” He said. His brown eyes danced over my face as he searched for something in my gaze. He was hoping to find some kind of love there; a familiarity or affection that I could offer him.
“I feel sick.”
“That’s just because you aren’t used to being in a different universe. Consider it like jet lag. You’ll get used to it in a few days.” He noticed when I didn’t move to eat. I stared into space, feeling my previous convictions about being sweet to him begin to slip away. “I could always make you eat.” He said.
“You wouldn’t do that.” I muttered. He let out a low sigh and then returned to his food. He wasn’t going to argue with me. Or maybe I was right; maybe there were some things he wouldn’t be willing to do to me. But he had walked in sporting horror-movie levels of blood on his skin. So, who knows?
“Is there anything that’s bothering you?” He asked. “You can always ask me.”
“Are you going to lock me up in my room again if you don’t like the question?” I asked. He didn’t respond.
Tread lightly, I guess.
“Why do you look different than my Miguel?”
“I’m Spiderman. Your Miguel wasn’t. He was close, but he didn’t quite get there before…” His voice faded off. He was trying to be sensitive to me, in his own fucked up way. Or maybe his own narcissism wouldn’t allow him to talk about his failures, even in a different universe.
“Do all Spidermen look like you?” I asked.
“Are they all so devastatingly handsome? Afraid not, sweetheart. They don’t usually look the same. Hell, they can look like anything. I found one that’s literally a cartoon pig. But appearances aside, they can mostly do the same things: climb walls, shoot webs, the whole lot.”
“Ah.” I said. “Do they all have the…” I tapped my finger to my teeth, motioning for the fangs that protruded anytime he spoke. He shrugged.
“That seems to be a thing entirely unique to me.”
Did I sense a bit of insecurity there?
He furrowed his brow as he turned his attention to the dinner plate. Damn it, now I felt bad.
Why the hell did I feel bad for hurting his feelings? He kidnapped me and had dragged me around like a rag doll. But I couldn’t ignore the guilt that started to brew inside of me.
I sighed as I moved closer to him. Even if he was my captor, I couldn’t help but see him as the man who I still loved. Even if that ended at the physical resemblance. I slid to the edge of my chair and reached my arm out for his face. My fingers slid against the rough stubble of his jaw, tracing the side of his face for a moment. He leaned his head to the side, moving into my touch.
“I’m sorry.” I whispered. He nodded, lifting a hand upward. He laid his fingers on top of mine, holding my hand there against his skin. God, he was burning up. Did he always feel like this? Maybe he was actually sick. My Miguel never ran this warm. Or maybe it was just a side-effect of the spider bite. I didn’t understand any of that well enough to question it and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask about it.
Suddenly, something clattered to the ground in the kitchen, making me jump. I pulled my hand back from his face, feeling the reality of the situation settle in. I slid my hand back into my lap, watching as his eyes lingered on for entirely too long. His brown eyes swam with a deep want. He wanted me to keep touching him.
Maybe sleeping with him would knock him out of this lovesick spell. Or maybe it would only make it worse. He stared at me, moony eyed and desperate. He was Miguel, even if he wasn’t my version of him. Maybe he could genuinely love me, even if only in his own fucked up way.
“If you loved him so deeply, do you think you could ever love me the same way?” He asked.
“Miguel…” I said. His face twitched slightly. I couldn’t say no; maybe I could, eventually. Or maybe he would become crueler, and I would hate him every second of my life. I didn’t know what to tell him. He leaned back in his chair, his face twisting in an attempt to conceal a deep pain.
Change the conversation quick. Change it before the night could descend in chaos with either us screaming at one another or him locking me in the room again. Or maybe he would just send me back to my own universe to die. After all, if he couldn’t get what he wanted from me, then there was no use in keeping me here.
He made a low noise and then returned to eating, never saying anything about how I had dismissed him.
“Why did you paint the door in the hallway?” I asked. He paused, trying to think up an answer. Then, he swallowed his dinner and shook his head.
“Just decided that it looked better that way.”
“But why? What was wrong with the original color?”
“Does it really bother you that much that I changed one thing?” He asked. His voice had an edge to it now. I clearly was not supposed to ask about the door. But why? It was just a damn door.
“No, but it’s weird that that is the one thing you decided to change. I figured that there was probably a reason.” He rolled his eyes as he took another big bite of food.
“Can’t you just be happy? Most people would overjoyed if they had the opportunity that you do.”
“Yes, I’m quite sure that most people would just love to be stolen from their bed by their boyfriend’s psycho twin. Frankly, that’s every woman’s dream.” My voice was dripping with so much sarcasm that he rolled his eyes. “How long are you planning on keeping this up? This isn’t the Truman Show. You can’t just keep me locked up here for the rest of my life so that you can get your kicks spying on me. And I’m not going to act out some fifties sitcom for you.”
“You don’t have to. I just want you to be… you. Or, as close to it as possible.” He said. As close to me as possible… the words rattled around in my head for a moment.
“You want me to be her.” His face twitched. “I lost him and you lost someone who looks exactly like me.”
Dear God, that was exactly it. All of my suspicions were correct. I was supposed to play house with him, while pretending to be a very specific version of myself that he had once loved. I had to be the perfect version of his wife; the one who doted on and loved him, or else this was all for nothing.
“Have you ever read The Great Gatsby?” I asked. He stared at me, his gaze littered with something.
“Tread lightly, sweetheart.”
“The book is about a man who tries to relive his past. He is so sure that repeating everything and making little adjustments will fix his world.” I swallowed hard, trying to make sure he understood what I was saying. I wasn’t his toy; I wasn’t meant to be wound up to perform for him. “Miguel, you can’t fix things by redoing them. People die. You have to let them go. If your wife died, you need to let her go.”
“I don’t hear you saying that about him.” He sneered.
“That’s because I didn’t kidnap you. I was willing to let you… to let him go.” All of the terms were confusing. This man looked like my Miguel, but he wasn’t. He was a different version of him, which I guess could also make him him, just a different kind. God, I was confusing myself.
“That’s bullshit. I know you want him back. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in the way you look at me.”
“I think what you’re seeing is a mixture of fear and your own reflection.”
“You love me.” He said.
“I don’t know you, Miguel. I don’t know who you are. I know who you look like, but that doesn’t really help your situation.” I paused for a long moment. “How did she die?” I asked. He shook his head.
“That’s none of your fucking business.” He snapped. I flinched at his words.
“I have the right to know how she died.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t even know how your own husband died and you think you have the right to pry into my life.” With that, he pushed himself up from the table.
He tossed the plate into the sink and it shattered against the metal of the basin. I heard him swear in Spanish under his breath. He was pissed but he hadn’t meant to do that. Maybe that was just an every day occurrence with spider strength.
He began to head to the archway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. As he stepped, I heard him swearing under his breath. I also heard my name several times.
“Miguel, where are you going?” I asked.
“You hate me so much, maybe it would be better if I wasn’t around.”
“Miguel, where are you going?” I repeated. He muttered more words under his breath. I watched as he pushed several buttons on the sides of his wrist device. He flipped a top piece on the metal bracelet.
“Lyla-“ he started.
“What are you doing?” I asked. I pushed myself up from the table, following him as he left the kitchen. He didn’t reply. I rounded the corner, following as he stepped into the living room. Upon entering, I was nearly blinded by a massive orange and pink hole that swirled and twisted in the center of the room. With every step he took, he drifted closer to it.
So, that was how he managed to leave and then come back. If what he wore on his wrist was capable of doing it, I wondered if mine was, too. No, surely not. The intent was to keep me here; giving me an opportunity to escape would defeat the entire purpose. He said that if I took it off, I would die. I had no choice but to believe him on that front.
“Miguel.” Still no answer. “Where are you going?” He stepped toward the portal without a sound.
“Miguel, where the hell are you going?” I repeated.
He rolled his eyes as he glanced down at the device on his wrist.
“If you leave, what the hell am I supposed to do? There aren’t any people outside. I’m going to have to guess that all of the buildings are empty. Are you coming back? Am I going to starve to death? What if I get hurt? What if I fall down the stairs and die? When the hell are you coming back? How am I supposed to contact you?” The words fell out of my mouth so fast that I didn’t have the chance to consider if these were stupid questions.
“That’s what you’re worried about?” He scoffed. But he didn’t offer me any kind of actual answer.  
“Miguel, you said you were my husband. You can’t just abandon me.” He flinched, but he still did not turn around. “Please…” I begged. If he left, I was stranded. At least with him here, I was guaranteed human contact and sustenance.
“Miguel, I need you.” I said. As the words left my mouth, I did the only thing I could think of to get his attention. I slid my hand up to the cardigan and quickly slipped it off of my shoulders. He didn’t seem to notice or care when it dropped to the ground below me. I then reached upward and grabbed onto the thin spaghetti straps of the pink nightgown. Without hesitation, I pulled them over either shoulder, allowing the gown to slide entirely off my body and pool onto the floor at my feet.
“Miguel.” I repeated. This time, my voice was no louder than a whisper. That was enough to get his attention. Or maybe he had heard the dress gather on the floor at my feet. I swallowed hard, feeling the cold bite at my bare skin. I was standing almost naked in the middle of the living room, wearing only a thin pair of underwear that offered very little coverage.
Miguel glanced backward. His eyes caught expanse of my bare skin and I swore I saw him smile.
“Don’t leave.” I said. I lifted my hands and crossed my arms. It was a force of habit. I felt so exposed like this. Though, I quickly lowered my hands, knowing that getting his attention was my best chance at him staying.
He turned around to face me. “Please say something, Miguel.” I whispered. The longer I went without a reaction, the more I started to feel like an idiot for this. Maybe I had just made myself look stupid in front of him. Or, better yet, maybe this was something his wife wouldn’t have done; maybe this would make him send me back home to die.
He slunk forward, a predator approaching prey. I saw the portal swirl into a smaller and smaller hole in the universe. Then, it closed, leaving us alone in the dim light of the living room.
Miguel moved so that he was only a few inches in front of me. The material of his shirt grazed my naked skin, making me wince. The shirt was too rough against my goosebump littered flesh. He stared down at me. As he did, his eyes turned from warm brown to a deep red again.
His palm drifted up to cup my cheek. His skin burned to the touch. I swallowed hard, feeling his fingers stroke the side of my face. It was almost as if he was petting me; like I was a toy for him to play with. He leaned down. His lips grazed the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Let me know if I hurt you.”
“Huh?” He pressed his mouth against mine, hard. His lips were warm as he began to work them, moving them so that they forced my mouth open. I moaned, overwhelmed by it all. As his lips slid against mine, I was sure that I would be bruised tomorrow.
A fang brushed my bottom lip, making me gasp. “Gentle, Miguel.” I whispered.
“Sorry.” His warm breath covered my face. He smelled intoxicating. He straightened his stance, moving away from me. When he pulled away, I let out an audible whimper.
God, please tell me I didn’t genuinely want him. I swallowed hard, feeling myself getting slick between my thighs. I was sure that if he looked, he would see a spot forming in my underwear.
I wanted to hold him. I tried to grab his shoulders, but our heights were too off. He was too tall for me to grab hold of. I pushed myself onto my tippy toes, but even that wasn’t enough. I was still too short for him. Miguel noticed this and leaned downward, allowing me to curl my arms around his strong shoulders.
“That’s my girl.” He slipped his hands down and curled his fingers around my bare thighs. He jerked my body upward. I curled my legs around his hips. He was already getting hard, causing his pajama bottoms to strain.
Miguel stepped forward, carrying me up the stairs. I knew where we were going: the bedroom. I pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. Even in the dark, I could tell he smiled.
He was getting exactly what he had wanted. But I couldn’t bring myself to make it all stop. I wanted him. I had craved him for so long and here he was. He wasn’t my Miguel, but maybe he wouldn’t die. He was stronger than my Miguel. Maybe that would allow him to stick around.
He twisted the door handle, leaving deep dents in the shape of his fingers in the cold metal. He was trying his hardest to be gentle with me, but I knew it was a battle he would most likely lose.
He tossed me on the bed, throwing me just a tad too hard. I landed on the opposite side of the mattress, groaning as my head almost collided with the wooden headboard. “Miguel.”
“I know, I know.” He teased. He flipped his hand over, shooting a fine web that caught my ankle. “Come here, sweetheart.” He rolled the webbing around his fingers, pulling it tight. I gasped, feeling my body sliding across the sheets. He dragged me down to the edge of the bed.
“Miguel!” I squealed. He smirked as he pressed his knees into the bed, pulling me so that I was only a few inches away from him. He pulled the web off my skin, making sure that it didn’t hurt me.
“Do you do that a lot?” I asked.
“As often as you, sweetheart. Next time, I can web you to the headboard.” My face flashed bright red. He chuckled.
Miguel reached down and grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt. He hauled it upward, pulling it over his head before discarding it on the floor. Taut muscles danced under his skin. Every inch of him was bound in hard muscle, covered in perfect skin.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against my knee. His fingers wandered up my thighs, feeling my bare skin. He pushed his other hand into the mattress.
“Miguel, please.”
“Please what?” He asked. I took his free hand in mine and guided it up to my chest. He moaned, offering a soft squeeze.
Miquel scrambled up to my chest. He caught my nipple in his mouth and moaned, licking the sensitive skin as he sucked. His fingers kneaded my other breast, stopping every once in a while to offer the hard peak a gentle pinch.
I brushed my fingers through his dark hair. He smiled against my skin, releasing my nipple from his mouth. “What?” I asked.
“Let me know if I’m too rough with you.” With that he slinked down to the warm skin of my thighs. He traced his lips across the bare skin. As he went, he opened his lips to gently suck and kiss the bare flesh. Every so often I would feel a burst of pain that lasted no longer than a second. He mumbled something against my skin. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, moving so that I could see what he was doing.
Another sharp pain shot through my left thigh as he buried his face in my skin. Miguel glanced upward, feeling my eyes on him. His fangs had nipped my bare skin, making me yelp. “I’ll be more gentle.” His voice was warm and weighted with lust.
He slipped upward and slid his fingers under the waist of my panties. He bit the material with his teeth. I heard him snip the material and rolled my eyes.
“You can’t do that to all of my clothes. I barely have any to begin with.”
“I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He pressed a warm kiss against my bare hip. Then, he moved to the other side. He repeated the same action, slicing through the material using his fangs. He placed a kiss on that side, as well.
“You’re such a showoff.”
“Am not.”
“You could have just pulled them off of me the normal way.” I fought back a laugh.
“I can bench press a city bus. I don’t need to showoff to you. Besides, learn to have some sense of romance.” He threw the remains of the panties onto the floor. He immediately pressed a soft kiss against the mound that had been covered by my underwear.  
He was extremely careful when he shifted downward. But the dull ache on the skin of my thighs where he had bit made me want to make my only request. “Hey, no teeth.”
“Funny, that’s what I always tell you.” He muttered. I rolled my eyes. “Lay back and hush up.”
“You’re so damn bossy.” I shifted on the mattress, spreading my legs wider for him. He placed his hand across my folds and gently spread them to expose my clit. He flicked his tongue across my clit. “Fuck, Miguel.” I lifted my hips off the bed, moving closer to his face.
He started to work, flicking his tongue over my clit as the index finger on his free hand traced my opened. He collected my wetness on his finger, sliding it around to make sure that I was good to go. Then, he slipped in his middle and index finger, sinking in until his knuckles touched my pussy.
I moaned, feeling his tongue work its magic.
Fuck, he was good at this.
He curled his fingers inside of me, brushing my sweet spot. I grabbed the back of his head, feeling his head bob under my palm as he licked.
Then, something occurred to me. He knew every inch of my body because he had fucked me thousands of times in the past. Even if it wasn’t me, it was a girl who was exactly like me. Maybe I was just that predicable. Or maybe he was just that good.
He picked up his speed, lapping between my folds as I curled my fingers in his hair. I was close and he could feel it. He could feel the twitches and miniatures spasms on his tongue as he worked. “Miguel, I’m close!” I whimpered.
He licked faster. Suddenly, pleasure shot through me, filling me with a white-hot heat. I moaned, spasming around his fingers as I came undone.
Miguel whispered something into my thigh as he pushed himself off the bed. Then, he pulled down his pajama bottoms, allowing for his cock to spring upward. It smacked against his lower stomach, heavy and decorated with a dark vein that ran along the underside. He kicked his pants off into the floor and then crawled on top of me.
He pressed a soft kiss on my lips. I could taste myself on his lips.
“This may hurt at first. I won’t move until you’re ready.” He said. He reached down between us. I watched as he grabbed his dick, stroked himself twice, and then lined himself up with my entrance. Without another word, he slid inside, making me gasp. I curled my legs around his hips, pulling him in deep as possible. “That’s my girl.”
I was overwhelmed with a stretching sensation. Arms rested on either side of my head as he stayed in place, waiting for me. After a moment, I leaned forward and kissed him, giving him the go ahead. One hand drifted up to my face. He caressed my cheek and his lips glided against mine.
He drew his hips back, sliding nearly all the way out. Then, thrusted upward, hitting deep inside of me. I gasped into his mouth. “I forgot how tight you are.” He murmured, his words slurring together.
My hands slid down his muscled back as he started to fuck himself into me. All the while, he kept his mouth on mine. I could feel his heart beating against my chest as he worked.
“Miguel…” I moaned, rocking my hips against him. I could feel my lower stomach tightening.
Suddenly, he whispered my name. It was so gentle that it was almost unsettling, considering the circumstances. I glanced up to meet his gaze. But as my eyes met his, he dipped downward. He buried his face in the curve of my neck so that I couldn’t see his eyes.
“Miguel, what’s wrong?”
He rutted his hips upward, burying himself as deep as possible. I gasped, digging my nails into his back. Despite how hard I had sunk them in, they didn’t break the skin. He was indestructible… at least, physically. I slid one hand across the skin of his back, moving to his dark hair. I could have sworn I heard him murmuring something into my neck. I could feel his lips moving against my skin, offering some kind of low prayer. But to who?
“Miguel…” He pulled his hips back again and then quickly slid inside of me again, grinding his hips against me to get a reaction. I gasped, tightening my hold on his hair.
“Say you love me.” His voice was dreamy, and his words slurred from pleasure.
“What?” I asked. It caught me off guard.
“Say it.”
“I love you.” I felt his hips still their movements. He was weighing the authenticity of my words. After a moment, he lifted his head from my neck.
“Say it again.” His eyes peered into mine. He was searching for something in my stare.
“I love you.”
“Good girl.” With that, he continued to beat into me, groaning when I would tense around him.
We were both close. I could tell by the chorus of whimpers and moans that were filling the room. That familiar tightening in my stomach was close to coming entirely undone.
He pivoted his hips, hitting the perfect spot inside of me. Miguel stared down at my features. He wanted something very specific from me before he finished. He ground his hips, making me gasp.
Fucking hell, Miguel.
With that, I felt myself come undone. Pleasure shot through me, making me clamp down on his dick. He grunted, never stopping his movements. “Miguel, I love you!” He groaned at my words. He kept hitting deep inside of me, making sure to grind himself against me every couple of thrusts.
His orgasm overtook him. He groaned my name as he gave one final thrust, hitting deep. I felt his body tense under my hands.
Slowly, we both came down from our highs. We were dragged back to the reality of the bedroom. The day had faded into night, leaving us in darkness.
He had finished inside of me. I could feel a deep warmth inside of my stomach. I also felt a distinct wetness that was hard to ignore. I sighed, relaxing into the mattress. I unhooked my legs, waiting for him to slide out of me. But, instead, he reached behind him and closed my legs again.
“No…” He murmured. Then, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against my lips. In this position, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was so intimate; so loving. Maybe he really did see me as his wife. He pressed another gentle kiss against my mouth. I closed my eyes, giving into the softness of the moment.
“You have to do something for me.” He said. I opened my eyes to look at him.
“Okay.”
“I want you to love me like you loved him. I want you to look at me like I’m your hero and that I’m special.” He inhaled sharply before he reached forward to brush one of my curls off of my forehead. “I want you to care if I die.”
I nodded. What other option was there? I was trapped in his little universe; it’s not like I could ever leave or be with anyone else. Besides, we were still literally connected at the hip.
After what felt like an eternity, he slid out of me. He leaned back on the balls of his feet to inspect me. I immediately closed my legs, though that did little good. He reached forward and grabbed my knees, prying my thighs apart. Warm cum dribbled out of me, coating the naked skin of my upper thighs.
He smirked at his handy work before pushing himself off of the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, turning on the faucet and grabbing a towel from the cabinet.
It was then that something occurred to me. “Miguel, I’m not on birth control.” I said. He nodded, acting as if I had just told him about the weather. He stepped out of the bathroom holding a damp washcloth. “Miguel.”
“What, sweetheart?” I stared at him, feeling my mind begin to race. He climbed onto the bed, moving to where I was laying. He sat down between my thighs and gently began to clean the remains of him off of my skin.
“You didn’t… you didn’t use a condom and I’m not on birth control.” I said. I could feel my heart beginning to race. Why wasn’t this bothering him in the same way?
“You’re my wife.” He said as he wiped my skin.
“Miguel.” I repeated. I wanted him to react.
“What are you wanting me to say?”
“Anything.” I said. I wanted some kind of actual reaction.
“Things are exactly as they need to be. Whatever happens, happens.”
“That’s not an answer.” I said.
“Maybe you need to learn to be happy with what you’re already working with.” He finished cleaning me up and then walked to the bathroom. He had made sure to only clean the skin outside of my body. He didn’t try to remove any of the fluid inside of me, despite how much there was.
He came back to the bed and quickly climbed in. “You should get some sleep.” He said. I stared at him, searching for some idea about what he was thinking. He offered a soft smile in return.
Was he fucking with me?
Did he really love me or was he just using me as a quick screw?
Did he actually want me to be his wife… or was this some fucked up mind game of his?
He leaned back against the pillows and then lifted his hand. He curled a finger toward him, motioning for me to come. “I’m not a dog.” I muttered.
“Then be a good girl and do as I ask.” He reached forward and gently grabbed my body. He slid me closer to him, moving me so that my head lay against his bare chest.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Afraid so.” He said. He placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on my side. He slid his fingers up and down either side of my body, taking in every soft dip and curve. Every so often he would lean down and kiss the top of my head.
I couldn’t help but notice the way that his fingers traced over my lower stomach. He looked wistful as he traced the soft skin. I squirmed, feeling insecure.
“Stop wiggling and get some sleep.”
“Then stop feeling me up.”
“I’m not feeling you up. I’m trying to be nice to you.” He murmured against the top of my head. He pressed another kiss against my hair.
“You’re an ass.” I muttered. I rolled his eyes as he continued to pet my bare skin. His heartbeat played in my ear.
As I began to drift off to sleep, I felt him begin to play with my frizzed curls. He would coil a stand of hair around his finger and then let it go, satisfied with the soft curl that had formed.
It was something that my Miguel liked to do, as well.
Maybe they weren’t all that different.
I heard his strong heartbeat against my ear as I faded away from the room.
Before I fell asleep, Miguel pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. “Please don’t leave me.” He whispered.
I love you...
3K notes · View notes
angel-of-the-moons · 8 months
Text
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
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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.
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"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."
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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
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winterzsurprise · 11 months
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Tags: Breeding kink, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, he bites you. SMUT, NOT BETA READ, big dick Miguel (as always).
Words: 1.1k
I am so sorry it took so long @gracielukey :''DD, a minor subject had the audacity to give us three projects back to back. I hope you like this one tho. I hope I did your idea justice somehow :''DD
now I shall succumb back into the darkness until college ends, adios and have a great day/night everyone!
hermosa - beautiful || cariño - darling
Ever since you told him of your decision to carry his kid, it’s like a switch has been flipped on Miguel. 
On the days where work doesn’t overwhelm his schedule, he researched day and night for ways of increasing your chances of conceiving, from dishes of ancient or foreign origin to books from different universes, he read them all.
Diet is out of the question, if he wants you to consume sugar or meat, you comply and if you don’t, he somehow makes you do it.
Not that you can really complain when he's got the skills on par with an immortal chef who has cultivated their skills for thousands of years. There's a reason why Hobi still comes to inner circle dinners despite how loud his displeasure is towards the organization and Miguel.
He says it’s because he’s too lazy to cook or he’s broke but you all knew it was a lie.
There’s no questioning the plenty of times Miguel took advantage of both of your enhanced endurance as superhumans, though it always ends up with you tapping out from overstimulation and muscle aches after being bent and spread wide open under him for hours upon hours.
Hell, even days if your schedule allows it.
You don’t even wanna start on the strong musky stench of sex and sweat fogging the room nor would you like to address the copious amount of cum pulsing out of you to be cleaned later on when he treats you to a warm bath at the end of every session.
A monster, that’s what your decision your sweet husband has turned into.
He once researched about your condition further and came home with a renowned determination to prove himself unique and If there's anything about that man, if he's passionate enough, he'd do anything to reach his goal.
Which brought you to your current situation.
"You're never going to leave this house until I make sure to fuck a baby into you."
You pant, pushing at his broad shoulders as pain intertwined with pleasure rockets through your trembling body, shaking legs numb on your chest after being folded and manhandled by him for the past hour, forced to take every deep thrusts that feels like he's puncturing your organs raw.
It's unbelievable how he manages to reach heights thought to be impossible. 
"Fuck… Miguel! I-I can't…"
"You can take it, I’ll make sure of it."
A particular, deep thrust got you screaming and eyes rolling back as he hit your spot once again. He didn't relent after that, making sure to angle his hips just right before every push. 
As his venom slowly fades away, pain starts to ricochet inside you. You were tempted to ask him for another bite but the complaining aches in your muscles had you biting back the urge. 
It’s been so long since you’ve started, you wanted to rest, even just for a split second.
He halts mid-thrust, hands reaching out for yours to intertwine them before pinning your arms above your head. You immediately meet his gaze as if magnetized by it, Miguel’s eyes are dilated to the nines, void of the crimson it's supposed to be and the buzz at the back of your head grows at the sight. 
When his hand wrapped around your neck, your body stiffened. Yet the fear tightening around your heart only got adrenaline thrumming beneath your skin.
Even when he's triggering your senses, you only found the threat exhilarating.
"You're not going anywhere, cariño." The thrust that followed only solidified it. "Not until I fuck a baby into you."
The cold marble countertop dug into your back as he feverishly ruts his hips. You grabbed for life onto his hands while pleasure and pain tightly intertwined in your guts. The sloppy sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, burning your cheeks with embarrassment as you’re reminded once more of how much he’s filled you up.
Tears blurred your eyes as his pace only grew more rabid with every passing moment, head going light from the overwhelming mix of ecstasy and ache.
As if it wasn't enough, he pressed onto your abdomen and your eyes rolled to the back of your head while he groaned, eyes never straying away from your stomach.
"Just imagining your stomach growing plumper and fuller with our child… Fuck."
A shiver wrecked your spine.
Your nerves fizzled with the constant onslaught of dopamine, electric currents bounced from the top of your head and to the tip of your toes. It was too much, yet you yearned for one more, hips meeting his thrusts.
"Miguel, please!" You sobbed.
"Give it to me, hermosa. I want it all."
A sudden tightness in your stomach abruptly unfurls and you came for the nth time tonight, convulsing and pathetically writhing under him.
Your body immediately complained from the continuous stimulation it received, seeing the difficulty in your crumpled expression as your eyes mist with tears, Miguel slows to a halt, cupping your cheeks and you lean into his balmy yet warm hands.
"I'm nearly there ok? Can you do it, hermosa?"
His voice felt far, as if you were hearing it from the far end of an unending hallway but you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck for support. As he slowly gains his pace, your back arches and you find solace in the crook of his neck, sobbing and whining into his skin as he pushes into you.
Seeing the difficulty scrunching up your face, Miguel didn't hesitate to bite into your shoulder, hoping to alleviate the pain as he worked up to his climax and you shuddered.
His venom made quick work and numbed the aches as well as the ecstasy. When you came for the last time that night, you didn't get the usual rush of euphoria in your veins, instead, it rocked through you like a shiver and a couple of sharp flinches in your legs.
You vaguely felt the sensation of his arousal bursting inside you before he collapsed into your arms, finally succumbing to the temptation of rest after so long and you internally celebrated.
"You’re not allowed to touch me for a day, you monster."
He laughed, it was light and despite the fog in your senses, it still sounded like jingles to your ears. 
"I'll make you your favorite later, is that enough?"
Confused by his word choice, you turned to the windows in front of the sink to see the signs of the rising sun peeking through the sheer curtains and you groaned.
It’s already somewhere around five to six AM in the morning.
You guys missed dinner because of his newfound determination. The dish you prepared after marinating the chicken for the whole day, now lay waste on the floor after being accidentally nudged at some point.
"You're going to clean that up."
"Not if we do it again.”
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I've decided to contribute to the Miguel nation even though I was almost a year late
I present to you…. Brother's best friend! Miguel! A drabble…. (Might turn this into a full fic idk)
Cw: Brother's best friend trope, grammatical errors, fem reader, possibly OOC Miguel, this is more like a flashback really since it's focus is more on Miggy and reader's childhood, this is kinda long wth 😭
Bbf! Miguel who has been friends with your brother since middle school, would often play in your brother's room when they were younger. As typical boys do, they'd play video games. He doesn't mind when you want to join them. He finds it endearing whenever you try to put your stuffed animals on the Legos they built, claiming they're people or something like that.
Bbf! Miguel who defends little you whenever some mean kids try to bully you, is taller than the average kid, making him intimidating. When this happens, he stands behind the bullies, towering over them with a menacing glare and arms folded. All he has to do is say something like "scram" or "leave," and the kids your age run away. Then, when you're feeling sad or upset, he treats you to ice cream to cheer you up.
Bbf! Miguel who helps you pull pranks on your brother, sometimes he’d be surprised you were able to pull off a bit extreme pranks but he’d be happy to do it for shits and giggles.
Bbf! Miguel who helps patch up your wounds whenever you have a little accident in the midst of pulling a prank on your brother all while speaking to you in the gentlest of ways to calm you down. "can you get up? no? All alright I'll carry you then” Your eleven-year-old mind panics when he easily carries you.
Bbf! Miguel who defends you against your older brother, Leo, gets into an argument whenever he can, Leo’s older, and can handle himself, while you are 4 almost 5 years younger than them and therefore helps you whenever he can, it’s just not fair sometimes.
He stood by the side of Leo’s room, witnessing the fight between you and your brother, 13-year-old Leo yelling at you for breaking his model aeroplane. “I Told you not to come in here without my permission!” Leo huffed, “I’m sorry! I-I just want to look at it” You defended yourself but Leo wasn’t having it,” Well now look at it! It’s broken!” little you are almost on the brink of tears, that’s when he stepped in. “come on now, the wing is the only one that’s broken, I’m sure we can fix it,” he said, trying to cool down the argument, Your brother stormed out of his room to cool off leaving you with Miguel “Are you okay Chiquita?” he asked and you shook your head a small sniffle escaped you as you try to justify yourself “I didn’t mean it” little you murmured as you look up at him with teary eyes, he sighed as he took the broken plane and its wing “hey, it’s okay yeah? Leo just needs to cool off, with the help of a super glue I’m sure we can fix this” he reassured you with a little ruffle on your head and grabbed the super glue to fix the broken model plane with his best friend’s little sister.
Bbf! Miguel got his heart broken for the first time because the girl he’s been crushing didn’t like him back because he was “too nerdy” for her liking, Leo brought it up during dinner when your mom asked how your day went and you were saddened for him, who wouldn’t like Miguel? He’s kind, understanding, and funny, he may be too intimidating because of his more-than-average height but that’s his outside appearance! He’s really sweet on the inside… wait…. Why are you thinking like that about him? Nevermind that.
Bbf! Miguel showed up the next day at your house since he and Leo needed to finish a project that’s due tomorrow, eyes puffy and a bit dishevelled from crying, you felt bad despite your brother calling him out that he looks like shit. Miguel didn’t deserve this, so you, the ever loving little sister of his best friend decided to go buy something for him.
Bbf! Miguel who walked out of your house to head home since the project they’ve been working on is finished, “Miguel!” you called out to him with a small paper bag in hand, you catch up to him panting heavily, have you been running? You held out the small paper “Umm.... I’m sorry about what happened yesterday… Leo told me… I mean he told mom when she asked how our day went” you rumbled, you were too busy making sure the treat in your hand stayed warm that you haven’t thought about what to say to him! “… anyways theseareforyouIhopeyoufeelbetter'' you said rather too quickly and before he could say anything you ran away and inside your house too flustered to face him, he took a peek inside the bag and a small smile was painted on his lips, warm empanadas from his favourite store, oh how sweet of you…
Bbf! Miguel who's taken the rejection to heart, maybe much of a nerd after all and that needed to change, so day by day he changed himself, no longer wearing those thick-framed glasses instead he opted for contact lenses, the baggy shirt that has corny science jokes were now nowhere to be seen and he's even doing a little workout to build his tall lanky body, of course, this was never unnoticed to you, who wouldn't notice your brother's best friend slowly gaining muscle and lean body type? You're happy for him of course but a part of you hoped that he did it because he wanted to and not because he's pressured by society's views of him, you like the nerd him? he's cute!
Bbf! Miguel who's never seen you so down in the dumps before, usually your beams and silliness can rival the sun itself but now you're gloomier than the night sky. He asked your brother about it and he didn't expect the reason for your sudden gloominess.
“Ah, she's just upset because no one gave her a Valentine's gift” your brother nonchalantly said as he played on his computer, his series of curses from losing the game was blurred out and in his peripheral vision, he only saw you, without saying any word he left your brother's room and approached you. You can hear the low vibrato of his voice as he approaches you “Hey” he greeted and sat down beside you “You okay?” he asked with his usual gentleness and you looked at him “I don't know… do I look okay?” you mumbled sassily which took him aback but sighed “I… I don't even know why I'm upset, it's just a silly day, it's not even a holiday! it's just a stupid day to have an excuse to ask your crush out or chow down chocolates” you mumbled bitterly, really it's a childish thing to be upset about something small like this, but Miguel didn't think so, no, he’s been there and he knows how it feels, Miguel didn't say anything but pats your head gently, his way to console you.
Bbf! Miguel who had surprised you on a random Friday afternoon with a box of your favourite chocolate and a pink coloured rose “Here” he said as he handed you the gifts, your eyes widened in surprise but took them “What's with this?” you asked but he shrugged in response “For you” he didn't show but it was amusing to him (and kinda cute) to see the sparkle in your eyes shine although it was short-lived “you didn't have to do this you know?” you mumbled, as much as you appreciated his effort you didn't want him to do that out of pity, again your brother's best friend shrugged “It’s not out of pity, it's for you, pink roses for appreciation" and that got you thinking “appreciation? for what? what did I do?” you asked him genuinely curious as to why “just existing, we've known each other for years-” “but I'm not your best friend” you cut him off “who said you have to be my best friend for me to show you my appreciation?” he asked you and in turn you weren't able to say anything, too surprised to utter a single word. He called your name softly, “I appreciate you, not because you're Leo's sister, but my friend, one of the closest, as embarrassing as it sounds but I cannot deny the truth, you have a certain charm I'm drawn to, you make me smile easily, you understand me, and don't tell Leo about this but at least with you I'm slightly more comfortable” he said with a small smile.
Before you could say anything Leo called out Miguel's name and he left right after, a hand on your chest to ease the beating of your heart and butterflies on your stomach. And in that moment, you realized you had fallen for your brother's best friend.
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Omg why is posting stuff online so anxiety inducing?! Anyways Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! If you have feed backs I'm more than eager to hear them (just be kind please) 🩷
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artistic-boi-cakko · 7 months
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On Call - Miguel O'Hara X Artist Male reader
Reader have a girlfriend, smut, Miguel is an idiot, reader is cheating (ofc) while being on a call with his girlfriend
You don’t know how this all happened, trying to take Miguel's large cock. You felt weird, your brain was hazy, you needed some relief while your girlfriend was out of State but you felt angry at yourself as you were cheating on your girlfriend. 
Miguel smirked at your teary face, filled with guilt and pleasure. He knew you were regretting the moment but needed relief at the same time. He held your face tightly and started to thrust his hips, pushing his dick deeper inside your mouth. You closed your eyes shut tight trying to take Miguel. A broken voice erupted from your throat. Miguel grunted with irritation and pulled away.
You started coughing "It's… too much…". Miguel's right eyebrow twitched as he was staring down at you, at your knees on the floor, gripping on his thighs balancing yourself. 
"Ugh… then let's do something else. You're the worst blowjob I ever had. No idea how to suck or lick. Just bobbing your head that too not properly" Miguel spat out a little irritated. He grabbed your shoulders and practically threw you on the bed. He climbed on top of you and kissed your lips hard, he was trying to calm himself to make the kiss more passionate. 
You groaned and in the kiss, feeling pressured. Still kissing Miguel, a more passionate kiss. You broke away as your stomach dropped… f/s (favorite song) on your phone was playing which was laying on Miguel's side cabin. You weren't able to see who called you but Miguel was, he glanced at the phone and smirked. He leaned towards the phone and picked it up, giving the phone to you. He was smiling wide. 
You wondered the reason for his wide smile. You looked at the name of the person calling, your eyes wide, heart rate increasing and you could feel your body going hot, not because of your desires for your Friend, Miguel… but from fear… Your girlfriend called you.
"Receive the call, talk to GF/N (Girlfriend Name). Let her hear you and realize who you belong to" Miguel whispered as he ripped away your shorts and boxers. You panicked and accidentally swiped to receive the call. 
"Y/N? You okay, Dear? It took you long to pick up the call? I assume you were working on yet another art piece and were on the verge to complete a part of it?" Your girlfriend asked giggling, she was so kind to you and always supported you for your passion for art. 
You took a big gulp and sighed "Yeah, it was a long project. H-HOW are you?" You asked. Your breath hitched as Miguel kissed your inner thigh and was massaging and caressing your legs. You placed a hand in his head trying to push him away but in return he held your hand and kissed and licked your dick. 
"I'm great! The client is a bit nosey about his house's interior but good thing his request will not be too hard to implement" she said sounding proud at her work. "How's Miguel?" She asked. 
You let out a sigh looking down at Miguel, lightly touching your dick and giving it occasional strokes. You bit back a moan and spoke up "Yeah, he is good" as you said that Miguel took you in his mouth and grunted, he started sucking and licking you. "UGHehh!" You squealed out.
You were now scared, as your girlfriend heard you… "Y/N? Are you okay?" She asked.
"Yeah, no problem. Mhphm! Just stub my little toe" You said, pushing off Miguel's head, you cheered happily as you managed to push his head away. 
Miguel smirked and pushed a finger inside your asshole. You clenched your teeth and sucked your stomach in, holding in your breath. "Oh dear, don't be clumsy. I'm currently reading a book. Will you take a break or not?" She asked.
"Uh, no, I won't take a break right now." You said hoping she will hang up.
Miguel heard and decided to mess with you "AH SHIT! THE LIGHTS ARE OUT! I WILL GO CHECK!" He said it loud enough for your girlfriend to hear.
In anger you slapped Miguel's head and he responded with a smirked and pushing in another finger inside you and started to finger fuck you. You gripped his hair.
"Oh my. You saved your work, right?" She asked concerned "Good thing Miguel is out to check the lights." She said, "Uh yeah yeah! I saved my work… don't worry. It will be back soon" You said.
"I hope it won't, we can talk for a longer time" she said seductively. A blush started to appear on your face. Miguel took notice of it and sped up his fingers inside you.  You panicked and bit your lip for dear life, you did NOT want your girlfriend to know about your little session with Miguel. He started smirking and started kissing your stomach and chest. 
"Mhm, you're missing me, baby boy? Missing how Mommy touches you?" Your girlfriend said seductively on the call. You were getting overwhelmed at the feeling of Miguel pleasuring you and your girlfriend filling your brain with lust even more. 
A soft moan escaped your lips. Miguel started to lick and suck on your left nipple. You held your breath. 
"Baby? You're missing Mommy so much that you're touching yourself? Aww, don't worry my train is in a few days" she giggled on call. You wanted to moan but you wouldn't as that would only fill up satisfaction for the two which you didn't want. You held back a breath, sucking in your stomach. You held Miguel's head, pushing him away from your now sore nipple. 
Miguel let out a low breathy chuckle and wrapped his arms around you tightly. You choked on a breath as air basically left your body from the tight hug. He started to rub his dick on yours moving his hips forward and backward, letting you feel everything. "Nhmh!" You let out a small noise, feeling the man's weight on your body and how your body moved.
He pushed his fingers into your asshole again, a little faster now. Loosening you up again.
Your girlfriend on call, speaking dirty words to you, making you imagine how she would touch you. And here you have Miguel doing the deed of pleasuring you which basically added fuel to the fire, meaning making your brain hazy and making you climax. Your body shivered and you moaned "uhmmhnmmm~". "My my baby body, you really climaxed? Good, I will be there soon with you and you will be climaxing on my hand" your girlfriend spoke on call. 
You stared at Miguel who was holding back a laugh. Your face was flushed red, you shifted your hips wanting to get away from him but received a painful tug on your dick in return. You groaned at it and raised your leg, threatening to kick Miguel. He held your leg and pushed it back towards your leg, making you groan from the stretch. He repeated it for your other leg and positioned his dick on your entrance. He was playfully wriggling his brows, gesturing to get you into some trouble. You stared angrily at him and mouthed words 'don't you dare' and with that he pushed his dick inside you.
You grunted and rolled your head back, Adam's apple poking out and it moved as you gulped and panted as you were stretched out. "Y/N, are you okay?" Your girlfriend asked on call. You panted and tried to calm yourself, tears pricking from your eyes as you looked at Miguel, begging him to pull out. "Y-yeah, just stubbed my toe, that shit hurts!" You panted out. "Right right, be careful now…" your girlfriend said.
Miguel pulled out and picked up the bottle of lube from the cabinet and applied it on his dick and some of it inside you. He then pushed in again. You sighed as it went easily now, it wasn't burning your ass now. Your walls were relaxing around Miguel after some time as your girlfriend talked about some gossip about her friends and family. "Her boyfriend really just did those cheesy dares for $500 bucks” she said laughing on call. 
You were not in the mood to laugh concerning your current situation as Miguel dead on thrusted his dick inside you, rubbing your prostate. Your mouth hung open and voice stuck in your throat as you did everything to not moan. Miguel was panting a little, the skin slaps became a little louder and you gave Miguel a death glare. With a silly smile he slowed down again. 
"Shoot! Y/N my phone's battery is dying. I will call you later now. Okay?" She said in panic.
"Hmmm" you responded, she hung up and you let your arm fall to your side and your phone bounced on the bed before laying still. 
"Ah ah ah!! Miguel mhm.." you panted and moaned. He finally moaned and gripped your waist, increasing his pace. He was dead on hitting the deepest inside you. You screwed your eyes shut and moaned. He gripped your swollen dick and started jerking it off, you screamed from overstimulation, body shivering, throat aching and heart racing. 
With just a few more strokes from Miguel’s hand you came hard. Miguel's thrusts were getting sloppy now, his precum and lube making his thrusts easier. He increased his speed to an impossible fast. You had your head pressed hard on the pillow, back arched, stomach sucked in, throat constantly letting out a loud moan. With a few more slow but hard thrusts Miguel came inside you. 
He let out dry and heavy pants and let himself come off his high before pulling out of you. 
You were a panting and moaning mess… Your stomach had cum on it. And you both were sweaty. 
Miguel weakly picked up a tissue from the cabinet and wiped off your stomach and your hole a little bit. "Rest for bit. Then we'll shower" he said as he crashed on bed beside you. 
"How was it?" He asked, smirking. 
You just nodded. Not giving him a proper reply. Your brain was still hazy, panic was flooding your brain that your girlfriend, some day or another your girlfriend will come to know about the little fun you had with you Homie. 
"Homies kiss goodnight" You whispered and closed your eyes. 
Miguel blushed at your words and let out a hearty laugh. 
Thank you guys for reading this if you read it this far, I'm glad and grateful! 
Please comment if you guys want more of Artist male reader fanfics. 
Have a good day and take care!
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exhaslo · 7 months
Note
Um, hi, this is my first request, so I'm kind of nervous and will probably ramble. I wanted to ask if you could write a Miguel fic where he's the reader's best friend's older brother? Something like in the song 'Stacey's brother' by Mad Tsai, except that the main character is a girl. Er, so basically, reader has been bff's with Miguel's younger sibling for a long time and she and Miguel started developing feelings for each other over time and he wants to tell his sibling, but she's nervous and feels guilty. So then Miguel starts touching her and teasing her whenever she goes over, trying to get her to crack? And then a spicy hookup scene too? But more soft, like a childhood sweethearts kind of thing? Sorry it's so specific, I just want someone else to write it for me 😭. Okaythanksbye!
Awe! Don't be nervous and I love the idea!!! I'll keep it nice and sweet with a little bit of teasing here and there for you! But don't be afraid to make requests!! :D
Warning: Fluff really, teasing, touching, making out
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Since kindergarten, you and Gabriel O'Hara had been best friends. The two of you were like peas in a pod and had to absolute everything together. From then until now, the two of you would always try to be in the same class.
Hell, not even the college life could separate the two of you. Both you and Gabriel had to get into the same college. Once you did, you decided to dorm together, at least you were until his big brother had something to say about it.
You had heard the stories of the big bad brood known as his brother. Miguel O'Hara. Every time you went over to his house, you never saw the man, until now that is. You wanted to find out why his big brother was holding you back from your best friend.
And lord was he your type.
"What gives dude?" You huffed, staring at the large man before you.
"(Y/N), Miguel is mad todaaaaay, he's gonna lecture you!" Gabriel cried out, crawling on the floor as if he was a survivor.
"It isn't like we're together or anything. You know your brother as well as I. He can barely touch himself out help." You said bluntly.
"Ouch, that hurt, (Y/N)."
"This isn't about that," Miguel said with a loud huff, "I just don't think the two of you fools will focus on your school work. You'd just play games all day instead of studying." He admitted.
God, he even sounded fine. You furrowed your brows as you tried to glare towards Miguel. He kept his stern look, towering over you. Whatever girl got with him was lucky indeed.
"Fair enough. Gabriel, why don't you commute from home since you live closer to the college. I'll dorm since my parents are moving out of the city. I can always come over and hang out."
"Here?" Miguel questioned. You glanced at his handsome face,
"Is there a problem?"
"No."
----------
There in fact was a problem. Gabriel was living with Miguel at the time. This was dangerous. Every time you came over, you could barely focus. Miguel was stealing your attention away from your best friend. He was just, oh so fine!
Honestly, you wanted to learn more about Miguel. Sometimes, you purposely went to the house when Gabriel was in class just to play dumb. Miguel offered to have you wait inside for him, but you always chickened out.
But not today.
You honestly thought Gabriel was home when you knocked on the door. The two of your shared a different class and had a project coming up. When Miguel answered the door, you felt your knees grow weak.
"He's at his club," Miguel said as he let you inside. You bit your lower lip, holding your bag tightly,
"Oh, I forgot that was today." You said, plopping yourself on the couch and getting your notes out, "I'll just wait here. We have a project to work on."
"Hm, I remember him saying something about that. What are you working on in the meantime?" Miguel asked as he leaned against the couch, his breathe tickling your ear.
"Biology." You did your best to avoid stuttering.
"Need some help?" Miguel asked as he sat beside you.
You could feel your heart racing as Miguel pressed up against you. His warmth engulfing your side. You were enjoying this. It was hard for you to pay attention as Miguel tutored you. All you could hear was the beating of your heart.
"(Y/N)?" Miguel whispered, his hand against your thigh, "You don't seem to be paying attention."
"Kind of hard, when I have such a good teacher," You muttered.
Miguel just chuckled in response as he stroked your thigh. You scooted closer to him, your hand against his. Your body was getting warmer as you got closer to Miguel. His face was inches away from yours.
"Fiiiiiinally! I thought I'd never be free!" Gabriel gasped, immediately making the two of you move away, "Hm? What are you guys doing?"
"Studying." The two of you said in unison.
----------
You kept going over to 'study' at Miguel's place. Each time, you and Miguel kept getting closer and closer. His hands were roaming a different part of your body while you tried to kiss him. Each time you tried to place your lips against his, something stopped you.
Not this time.
You were sitting beside Miguel, attempting to study. His hands were holding your waist, giving light squeezes every now and then. You were trembling under his touch. You bit your lower lip, leaning into his touch,
"Hey, Miguel," You whispered. Miguel stroked his hands against your back towards your inner thigh,
"Yes, (Y/N)?"
"I want to study something else," You whispered, slowly crawling onto his lap, "Do you think you can teach me this too?"
"I think I can,"
Miguel grinned as you finally kissed him. He hands rested against you waist, deepening the kiss. His tongue pushed itself into your mouth, exploring your wet cavern. You muffled into the kiss, wanting air, but Miguel was dominating you.
"Ugh, what a day," Gabriel sighed as he struggled to open the door.
You quickly rolled off of Miguel, squealing lowly as your skirt lifted up. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he fixed your skirt, his fingers gently grazing over your panties. You felt your heart race as you avoided Miguel's gaze.
"H-Hey, Gab! How was class?" You asked, leaning over the couch. Miguel glanced towards his brother, hiding the fact that his hand was now groping your ass,
"Any news on that test you took?"
"Uh, oh wow. What a beautiful day out. Hey, (Y/N), I just remembered that there is a party going on in the quad. Why don't we go check it out?"
"Sure!" You chirped, trying to ignore Miguel's touch, "Have fun at work, Miggy."
Miguel grunted lowly as he watched you leave with his brother. It felt unfair how he had to hide his relationship with you. You were his precious little girlfriend. You were only a couple years younger, but the fact that Miguel worked full time made his time with you so short. He needed more of you.
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"He'll be fine, let's just tell him." Miguel whispered in your ear as he sucked against your neck. You mewled softly, squirming against his lap,
"B-But he is totally going to sing that deception song," You whined.
"He'll get over it."
"But, Miggy," You whined softly. Miguel hummed to your cries and proceeded to grope your body, "It isn't fun hiding our relationship from him."
"I think it is," Miguel huffed, then heard the door downstairs shut, "He's here. How would you like him to know?"
Miguel smirked as he pinned you against his bed, locking you down with his body. You whimpered, feeling his needy lust and your own. You reached up, kissing Miguel. Miguel held your head, making sure that you left his room exhausted.
"Hey, Migs. I'm going to head over to the library for a bit. If (Y/N) stops by, let her know for me, kay?" Gabriel yelled. Miguel raised a brow, breaking the kiss,
"Why don't you tell her?"
"Well, you're her boyfriend aren't you?" Gabriel yelled.
Both you and Miguel froze and immediately ran downstairs. Gabriel just had a grin on his face,
"C'mon, you're my best friend and he's my brother. I noticed long before you guys even kissed."
"But the song-"
"Sang it at karaoke with the boys," Gabriel laughed. Miguel glanced at your dumbfolded expression and chuckled, picking you up,
"(Y/N), Gabriel's going to be in the library. Guess this gives us more study time."
"Ew, no. I don't want to know!" Gabriel cried out as he ran off. You just laughed,
"Don't worry! You'll be my maid of honor!!!"
"Nooooooooooo!"
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Hahaha, hope you enjoyed!
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slippinmickeys · 2 months
Note
happy birthday! drabble prompt in re: the amazon scientist/archaeologist au for you if you want: scully finding out she's won the nobel prize
(I just love that fic so much, no pressure!)
Quick and dirty, no beta.
Above the canopy of the jungle, the sky was the same liquidy pink as a bottle of rosé. The heat was easing with the setting of the sun, but Mulder still mopped the sweat off his brow with an already soiled handkerchief. 
Byers met him at the trailhead with a bottle of water that was opaque with condensation. 
“Hey,” Mulder said, accepting it gratefully. “I miss anything while I was at the site?” 
Byers shook his head and fell in step beside him as they entered the perimeter of the camp. 
“Not really,” he said. “Frohike had some luck unscrambling the data on the last sweep, but it didn’t show anything.” 
“I’d like to take a look anyway,” Mulder said.
“I figured,” Byers replied. “We’ve got it loaded on the ThinkPad.” 
The calls of the night animals were beginning, a gradual swell of sound. Mulder bade Byers farewell, ducking under the flap to his tent for a quick towel bath and a change of clothes.
He was surprised to find Scully inside, leaning over the small table they had shoved into the corner of the tent. 
“Hey,” he said, feeling a smile blossom on his face with the greeting. “I thought you and Miguel wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Weren’t you overnighting in section three?”
Scully answered him but continued whatever she was doing at the table. “The locals reported a jaguar sighting there three nights ago. Decided to play it safe.”
Drawn to her by some unknowable force, Mulder sidled up to her and pressed into her from behind. She straightened and he bent to sniff her neck, mumbling into the warm skin there. “Good. I like when you play it safe.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, reaching up to wrap an arm around his neck from behind. The soft animal of her body pressed into his and he felt a flare of wanting. 
He was about to take things further when there was a call from outside the tent. 
“Mulder?” came Langly’s voice. 
With regret, Mulder took a step back from Scully and affirmed his presence. The canvas flap came up a moment later letting in the last of the day’s dim light. Langly’s eyes flitted between the two of them. 
“We’ve got a sat call,” he said, with some gravity. 
The camp had a satellite phone in case of emergencies. They rarely used it, and never – not once in the three years of the project – had they ever gotten an incoming call on it. 
Mulder was about to step forward when Langly licked his lips. 
“It’s for Dr. Scully,” he said. 
Mulder immediately met his lover’s eyes and she rushed out of the tent to the area of the mess where the sat phone lived. He was right on her heels. She was probably thinking the same thing he was: something had happened to her mother. To another family member. Someone was likely dead. 
She tore into the mess almost at a run and grabbed the chunky phone out of Frohike’s hands, who took a step back and swung his eyes to Mulder, mouthing something Mulder couldn’t make out. 
Mulder ignored him, his gaze intent on Scully who mumbled something into the receiver, swallowing thickly. 
Mulder could hear talking on the other end of the phone, but couldn’t make out what was being said. Scully’s forehead crinkled into a confused chevron and then she grabbed the table that housed a majority of the computer equipment, suddenly swaying on her feet. 
“Get her a chair!” Mulder shouted, but Langly, who’d come in behind them, was already pushing a camp chair up to Scully, who lowered herself into it shakily. 
“Okay,” she finally said. “Thank you.” And her hand holding the receiver dropped into her lap, the greenish light on its small screen flicking off. 
Mulder stepped forward and lowered himself until he was kneeling in front of her. 
“Scully?” he said. She had a dissociated look about her that scared him. He put his warm hand on her knee. “Honey?” he said. 
At this, she finally looked up. 
“I–” she started, still dazed. “I just won the Nobel Prize.”
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Text
Distant Sparks (Miguel O'Hara x Reader) pt 2
YALL I COULD NOT HELP MYSELF- Okay so I totally didn't plan to be writing part 2 of this while I'm at school nor did I expect to write this much so HOLY CRAP guys, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
cw: cold(ish) miguel (he's getting better)
wc: 1271
pt1 ->pt2<- pt3
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It’s been 2 days since you had decided that you were going to make a gift for Miguel. You were sitting in your house at the table with a project lying in front of you. You had always been artistic but never very sciencey, so you had decided to build him a spider-shaped wooden paperweight for him. You had taken great care to make sure that the gift looked as perfect as possible, spending over 5 hours on it over the past 2 days.
You grabbed the paint sitting next to your wooden project and dipped your brush inside the red. With each careful stroke over the wood, a new thought bubbled into your mind.
I hope Miguel likes this!
That was the most consistent thought out of all of them. Of course, you hoped he would like it. This was your hard work! You always bought or made gifts for your friends on their birthdays, but even though you knew Miguel was disinterested in being friends with anybody, you wanted to break down that wall that he had built.
After touching up the spider lying in front of you, you finally left it to dry. You hadn’t realized that it was now past dinner and you hadn’t even eaten yet! You had been so focused on that gift that you had lost track of the time. You quickly scurried into your kitchen and opened the fridge. You pulled out an apple to tide you over then when you finished eating it, you went and got ready for bed. Tomorrow was the day that you would get to give that gift to Miguel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Miguel was glued to those yellow screens up on his platform as usual. However, today was different. Miguel knew it was his birthday, but he had made it clear to everyone that he had no interest in celebrating it. He didn’t have the time to. He didn’t deserve it. Yet, he thought back to your conversation with him a few days ago and found himself subconsciously anticipating you to walk through those doors into his office. It made him feel stupid every time someone walked through those doors and he unwillingly hoped it was you. He had to admit… the kindness that you brought into spider society had begun to touch him too.
~~~
You rushed through the halls of the society after you had slept in way later than you had planned to. You carried a moderately small gift bag in your hand that was decorated with sugar skulls. You hadn’t done it intentionally, you just grabbed one of the gift bags you had saved from an old Halloween gift exchange. You were always about saving money where you could, keeping old gift bags in your closet to reuse.
As you hastily approached the doors to Miguel’s office you felt yourself become increasingly excited. After finally reaching the doors, you walked in and called up to Miguel’s platform with enthusiasm.
“Happy Birthday!!! I know you told me not to get you anything so I made you something!!” Miguel is almost startled by your sudden presence but he quickly turns away from his work as if he was expecting you to show up. He curses himself for turning so quickly to you.
“I don’t want it”
You huffed and pouted at his lackluster response. You hadn’t spent over 5 hours of your time to just hear him say that then throw it away! You responded with the gift outstretched up towards him.
“I spent a long time making it for you though… at least look at it?”
You suggested and heard an audible groan and a mumbled ‘ay dios mio’ before Miguel gave in and put his hands on his hips, his eyes still focused on you.
“Fine. Bring it up here.” You smiled brightly at your accomplishment and carefully webbed yourself up to meet him on his platform. Miguel kept his eyes trained on you before they wandered down to the gift bag and he rolled his eyes at the design.
“Is the bag supposed to be funny?”
You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment for a moment and quickly begin to explain why the bag had sugar skulls on it.
“No! I keep gift bags from parties and stuff to reuse them and I didn’t notice that I had put the gift in this specific bag…”
You give him a giddy smile and hand him the bag. He raises a brow at your explanation but chooses not to question it. As he takes the bag from you he peeks inside and carefully pulls out the parchment paper to reveal the gift sitting at the the bottom. The moment he sees it he pauses. He doesn’t even pull it out yet.
“What is it…?”
He looks up at you in confusion at the gift. Sure, he saw that it was a wooden spider, but what was its purpose? To be honest, it reminded him of a gift from a child. He only half realized it, but he found it a bit endearing.
“It’s a paperweight! Jess told me that you always have a ton of paperwork up here and now that I’m up here I can see she was right!”
Miguel purses his lips as he glances over his desk space at the papers strewn across it. He never had the time to organize them. He thought about it for a moment before returning his attention to the gift and tenderly pulling it out of the bag and setting it down on his desk. He sighed heavily and shook his head.
“Thank you… But please, no more gifts…”
You nod at his request, acknowledging him.
“No more gifts- until next year!”
You say it so excitedly that he swears he can feel his heart clench. You were so kind to him while all he had been was harsh to you since you stepped foot into spider society. He knit his brows together and frowned, causing you to give him a puzzled expression.
“Are you alright?”
“Lo siento…”
He mumbles the apology so quietly that you almost don’t hear. Half of him hoped you wouldn’t understand what he was saying while the other half hoped you would and that you would accept the apology without question. Well, you did know Spanish and you knew exactly what he said. Your response?
“Por que?”
His gaze turns away from you and he shakes his head.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it. Now, you should go help Jess fill out those reports. Tell her to have you start bringing them from now on”
Once again. His words leave you extremely puzzled as you stand there staring at his back.
“Wh-”
Miguel cuts you off before you can finishing asking him why.
“Because Jess is busy. She goes on high-profile missions. I need her focused on missions, not delivering paperwork”
Miguel’s cold tone takes the place of his previous less hostile one and you realize that just like the last time you had talked to him, this conversation was over. You nod behind him, even though you know he can’t see you and you quietly exit his office. As Miguel is left by himself he feels his heart ache a bit at the absence of your cheerful presence. Regardless, Miguel focuses back on work reminding himself that you are just a distraction to his work. Yet, he can’t keep himself from allowing his eyes to wander over to the wooden spider. He stared at it for a while before sighing and shaking his head. What on earth had you done to him?
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itsmarsss · 12 days
Text
To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before AU: Chapter 1 - Out [Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)
You have been writing these love letters since seventh grade, but what happens when they somehow get sent out?
Warnings: high school (lol i wrote this one when i was in high school but im rewriting it now that im like three years out of it so it feels weird and i feel like it warrants a warning, definitely senior year tho.), hardcore crushing on miguel, mentions of a crush on moon so if ya don’t like women too then idk, uhh mention of smoking weed.
Word Count: 4,060
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Your letters were your most prized possessions: yours, and yours only.
You wrote one when you had a crush so intense you felt like you needed to snap out of it or otherwise you’d collapse.
So, you wrote letters to try to find closure. Intricately detailed letters that contained every single unfiltered thought and embarrassing feeling you could find in yourself. Everything you noticed about them, everything you wished you had with them, everything you wanted to say but couldn’t.
It started a long while ago.
You never sent them, of course. That idea was completely off the table. They remained stored inside the little blue box with the white ribbon buried deep in the back of your closet, from where you would occasionally take them just to read them again and reminisce on the thoughts a younger version of you once had about all those different people.
They were all properly sealed, stamped and addressed in pretty cursive letters, but never, ever posted.
They were six in total, addressed to five different people.
The first one ever written had been for Eli, from seventh grade. Adorable little Eli, who was one of the biggest nerds you’d ever seen, always too shy to talk around others, but who would go on excitedly about a tv show or a comic book series he liked for hours around you after getting paired for a project got him to warm up to you.
Adorable little Eli, who trembled like crazy before kissing you in a dumb game of spin the bottle, right before running home crying because some girl thought it would be hilarious to comment on how she wouldn't have let him kiss her with "that mouth" if she were you. You, in turn, couldn't feel more different from that bullshit comment of hers after that messy seventh grade first kiss that lasted barely a couple seconds but fed your crush on him for months on end after.
That letter was followed by a new one, addressed also to him, but the new him this time around, many years later, in your sophomore year- to Hawk, not Eli. However that worked.
To Hawk, who had decided to “flip the script”, as he called it, by changing his entire aesthetic and his whole demeanor, showing up to school on a random day with a blue dyed mohawk and a brand new attitude. You liked it.
Confident Eli seemed happier even though he sometimes acted like a bit of an asshole and, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, he looked really, really hot. He was still Eli, but this Eli wasn’t afraid to flirt with you, which evoked brand new feelings in you.
Therefore, a new letter.
The second letter you ever wrote was addressed to Demetri, from eight grade, who you met around the same time as Eli.
Demetri, who would talk to you about superheroes and binary language and would be so excited about it that you didn’t care to tell him you couldn’t understand a word of what he said.
Demetri, who was so kind as to go to your house to help you with your part on the biology project you were partnered with him in because he knew it was stressing you out, who would offer to tutor you when you told him you were having a hard time with a subject he was good at at school, and who you got closer to when randomly put in many classes together.
The third letter you ever wrote was addressed to Robby Keene, who you became closer to after ditching the homecoming dance in your freshman year to hang out by yourself at the bleachers, despite Sam and Aisha’s protests, only to find out it apparently was Robby Keene’s favorite smoking spot.
Apparently high school dances could be pretty lame, no matter what all high school movies from the 80's had been telling you all your life. You had asked if you were interrupting something when you noticed his presence and he told you it depended on whether you'd be snitching on him or not, and suddenly freshman homecoming didn't suck all that much anymore, because you managed to make friends with the most unlikely acquaintance you could ever have.
Robby, who at fourteen years old got detention for threatening to beat up the kids who made you cry because they kept making fun of you during a presentation, which was about substance abuse, ironically.
The fourth one had been written to Moon, who you used to despise because she used to hang out with Yasmine- who, for the longest time, had loved to pick on you and your friends- especially Eli and Demetri.
But Moon, who turned out to be so sweet after she started doing and saying things for herself as opposed to whatever her friends wanted her to and started hanging out with your friend group.
Moon, who would excitedly invite you to sleep overs and braid your hair as you gossiped about people you barely knew from school, who would do your makeup for you and take you shopping and call you pet names platonically, making you blush furiously and putting you in the verge of short-circuiting by being so casually affectionate now that you’d become friends.
And, lastly, the most recent one had been written to Miguel Diaz, of course.
Miguel, who was your best friend in the whole entire world, ever since he moved to Reseda and you first befriended him at school.
Miguel, who was currently dating Sam, who you’d drifted apart from, but couldn’t for the life of you hold a grudge against.
Yeah, Miguel.
But before he became Sam’s boyfriend, he was your boyfriend. Well… boy-friend. A boy who was a friend. And things were good as they were.
But then things started changing.
Things started changing when Miguel asked Sam out and you realized you didn’t like that. When the first thing he did when he got home was to tell you all about it, and you felt a pit in your stomach as he went on about how well things had gone.
Until you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore and had to face the reality that the reason it all made you feel so awful was that you were jealous.
It was even worse to figure out why: as much as you could try to lie to yourself and pretend you were just jealous that she was spending time with your best friend, you knew you had to face it: it all came down to the simple fact that you were in love with him.
You didn’t know when it happened, or what was the turning point for that, but you were. Utterly and irredeemably.
And, in hindsight, it seemed obvious.
But then they started dating, and they didn’t want you to feel left out, so they would you and Aisha everywhere, which made things so much worse.
And then they broke up, and things got, somehow, even weirder. Now it was all you and Miguel again, and, even after all of that, you still had those stupid feelings for him. But you weren’t a complete bitch, or insensitive. You’d never make a move, you’d just have to live with it.
Which didn’t mean there was nothing you could do about it: you decided to try to put an end to it, your own way.
Hence, how letter number six came to be. Signed, addressed, stamped, sealed and stored in the blue box under all the others.
Maybe after this you’d be able to move on. Maybe after this things would go back to normal. How you craved for things to go back to how they used to be.
It seemed reasonable enough to just wait on your feelings to die out.
But a certain day came when then Eli- well, Eli, who was Hawk now, marched up to you in the middle of your gym class.
“Y/n?” He called your name, and you stopped running your laps, turning around to face him, eyebrows knit together in confusion. What was Hawk doing in your gym class?
You let him approach you. “What’s wrong?”
“Look, I appreciate it but it’s… not gonna happen. Like, you know we’re friends, and you know I'm still like… hung up on Moon, or whatever. Right? I know the power of the Hawk’s pretty irresistible,” he smirked, quickly going back to his stern expression, “but you should cut it out.”
You really had no idea what the hell he could be possibly talking about. “Dude… what?”
“C’mon you don’t have to play dumb, it’s cool that you think my scar makes me look cute or whatever but like. I uh. Don’t have any feelings for you now.” Wait, what did he say about the scar? He kept on. “And like it’s- it’s pretty cool that you liked me before and now too but this would just- this would be weird. You know that, right?”
You just weren't getting it.
And then you saw it: in his hand, signed, addressed and stamped, were two open envelopes with two different names written on them in your best cursive handwriting. Fuck.
“Hey- woah are you alright? You look like you're gonna pass out.”
You felt like you were going to pass out. You couldn’t even form a sentence in the midst of your shock.
And then, Miguel came into your line of sight. Because of course things had to get worse.
“There’s no fucking way,” you muttered, incredulous. He was walking up to you, a red envelope in hand.
The letters got out the letters got out the letters got out.
He looked confused. He obviously, and much understandably, wanted answers. Answers you’d much rather get hot by a bus than giving him.
This could not be your fucking life.
“No, no, no, no, no, oh, my god,” you looked around frantically as he got closer, trying to figure out what to do. Hawk surely thought you were crazy now.
And then Miguel made eye contact with you and he had that fucking look of pity on his face and you panicked. And so you did the first thing that came to your short-circuiting mind, which was possibly the dumbest thing you could have thought to do: apparently all you managed to think of was jumping Hawk, tackling him to the ground and kissing him in the middle of gym for Miguel to see.
How maturer and over him you were! Incredible!
The kiss was over as soon as it happened, and you pulled away as Hawk stared at you with two wide eyes and shock all over his face.
You could sympathize with the guy- getting this as a reaction to your rejection was probably really confusing.
More important things going on, though. You got a glance of Miguel stopping in his tracks at your little theatrics, making you realize it definitely didn’t do anything other than make things more awkward for you.
“Uh. Thanks. Sorry or… whatever. I’ll see you in bio!” You told Hawk, patting his chest before standing up and booking away from him, running past Miguel way too quickly for him to be able to approach you and ignoring his call of your name, and locking yourself in one of the stalls of the closest bathroom you were able to find, trying every single breathing exercise you’ve ever come across to calm yourself down.
This was it. Miguel hated you, surely.
No, worse: he pitied you. Because obviously he didn't feel the same and obviously receiving a love letter so embarrassingly honest from his closest friend was weird. Now your friendship was going to be weird, and it was all you fau-
“Y/n? Are you in there?”
No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening, there was no way.
“Y/n? Are you okay?”
Goddamn Robby Keene.
“Oh my god,” you muttered to yourself. Maybe willing him away in your mind would alter reality so he wasn’t there in the bathroom with you.
If only it were that easy.
Resting your head in your hands as you tried to convince yourself this was some sort of nightmare, you heard a noise come from really close to you and opened your eyesto the pink envelope being slid under the stall to you.
“I thought you’d want it back. Seemed pretty personal.”
“Robby, holy shit, I’m so sorry. You do know I wrote this like years ago, right?” He had to have figured that out, didn’t he? You weren’t even close anymore.
“Yeah! Like freshman year right? When we smoked together while everyone was at the dance.” He didn't seem to be mocking you, didn't seem to be angry. Just pointing it out. You sighed and opened the stall door, deciding facing Robby wouldn't be as bad as facing Miguel. You walked out.
“Yeah it was- it was pretty cool. Better than whatever was going down in the dance.”
“Yeah, I taught you how to smoke that day!” He smiled. “Thinking back on it makes me think you shouldn’t have been hanging out with me back then, actually,” he points out.
You could only let out a small laugh. “I guess not.”
“Look, I don’t know why you decided to send this but uh. I feel like I should tell you that Sam and I are like. Together.”
They were? “Oh. Right! Duh. Obviously. I knew that.” You most definitely did not know that. “I don’t know how this got out, really. I never meant for you to actually see this.”
“Look, we can still be friends. You’re pretty cool. Even with… you know…” he motioned vaguely, “the whole Cobra Kai thing”
“Okay! Yeah, definitely.” He was only being polite, because that’s how he is. But this was much better than having him think you were trying to get with him. You let out a nervous laugh. “I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah.”
Jesus fuck.
[. . .]
You looked everywhere. Everywhere. The stupid fucking blue box just wasn't anywhere. You tried asking your mom about it, but her answer was short and simple: It probably went with the Goodwill box you’d made last week.
How, you couldn’t figure out, but it seemed to be the only slightly plausible possibility.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. That meant there were five people out there total, five people you still saw every single day, who you were friends with, who had received a fucking love letter with your name signed all pretty on it.
This was hell, it had to be.
You were sure of it when you heard a knock on your front door, accompanied by Miguel’s voice calling your name.
Shit, shit, shit, you were not ready to have this conversation. Why did he have to be your next door neighbor on top of everything? It had always been convenient to live so close to each other, but right now it seemed everything but.
So you did what any sane, responsible person would do: you got out by the kitchen window. Naturally.
Miguel would think you just weren't home.
Again, very mature and totally normal and over it of you.
You decided someone would probably be at the dojo and the last thing you wanted right now was to accidentally encounter someone else who had a letter by surprise. You figured it was too early for someone to be at the diner nearby, so there you went.
You ordered yourself a milkshake and tried to reason with yourself. You couldn't avoid Miguel forever. He’s obviously find a way to talk to you at some point. And then what would you do? Admit you were in love with him even though to him you were just best friends? Let him tell Sam you were in love with her (well, at-the-time) boyfriend? Get politely rejected by him and go around pretending being pitied by him for not being corresponded wasn’t pathetic? It all seemed to come down to terrible endings.
You were so lost in thought you didn't notice him sit beside you at the counter until he spoke up, ordering some fries.
Oh, shit.
Hawk.
“What are you doing here?” You asked him, annoyed.
“Went by your place. Miguel said you weren't there. Things felt preetty awkward I’ll be honest with you. But you weren't at the dojo either so I thought I’d find you here.”
“Okay. And why did you wanna find me, exactly?”
“Look I just wanna make it double clear that nothing’s gonna happen between us. Nada.”
“Eli Moskowitz I am not trying to date you.”
He seemed to cringe at his own given name, but didn’t complain out loud about it. “Then why would you write me a love letter?”
“It was in 7th grade!”
“No, you talk about me as Hawk though.”
“Last year! Right when you did… that,” you motioned vaguely to his mohawk.
“Okay I hear you but like. Your mouth is saying one thing… but then your mouth said… something… else. To my mouth. Directly.”
“What? Ew!”
“You jumped me!”
“I was panicking! And I’m like, actually sorry.”
“Then why’d you do it?”
You let out a sigh, defeated. “Miguel was walking over.”
“And?”
“And he also got one of those,” you motioned with your head at the letter in Hawk’s hand, “and I cannot deal with that right now.”
His expression shifted. “Wait, I’m not the only one who got a letter?”
“No.”
“Huh. You really think you’re special.”
“Are you not, like, surprised about Miguel?”
“Oh, no, it was pretty obvious. But damn you get a love letter and think you’re the man but then you find out she wrote to another guy too?”
“Oh there’s six of them, so don’t go feeling too special.”
“Six of them?”
You then realize you’d spoken too much. He doesn’t need to know all of this. “Nevermind.”
“Damn y/n, fuck yeah, you're a player! Who were they for?”
“No one! It’s none of your business.”
“Come on, I deserve to know! You did kinda jump me in front of a bunch of people.”
“It doesn’t matter!”
“I mean I wouldn't- I wouldn't want people to find out you think my scar looks hot. Or that when you look at me you think about ‘kissing the annoying smirk off my lips’- I mean who knows what guarantees you don’t have a tattoo of my face on your ass-”
That was embarrassing enough. “Okay shut up! Shut up. Fine, if you wanna know so bad. So two for you. Then uh. Demetri, in-”
“You had a crush on Demetri?”
You kept on. “Then Robby Keene, on freshman year.”
“What, do you have a thing for LaRusso’s boyfriends or…?”
“How did you know they were together? I didn’t know!”
He just shrugged, and you continued. “And then there was uh-” you glanced at him and back to your milkshake. “Moon, after she uh. Started dating you, and hanging out with us.”
He let out a snort. “Right.”
“Sorry. I uh- I know she broke up with you-”
“What, are you gonna make a move on her? Is this what you have a thing for, crushing on your friends’ partners?”
“No. And you asked me about it!”
He looked sorry. He didn’t say it. He sighed. “Fine. Is that everyone?”
“With Miguel, yeah, that’s everyone.”
“Okay. I was the only one to get two letters though.”
You rolled your eyes at the comment. Of course he’d make this be about feeding his ego. The two of you finished your food in an awkward silence before he spoke up again. “Did you walk here?”
“Yeah.”
“You want a ride?”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s fine.”
“Okay.” After paying, you walked outside, getting on his motorbike. He surrendered his only helmet to you.
Holding onto his waist the whole time after all this was definitely weird but you didn’t let yourself think about it too much, instead thinking about a bigger issue: you really, really hoped Miguel wouldn’t be there when you got home. You got to the parking lot, getting off the bike, taking off the blue helmet and handing it back to him. “How do you even put this on with your hair?” You questioned.
He laughed. “I just like. Push it back.”
“But how does it not ruin it?”
He shrugged. “Power of the Hawk.” He smirked, full of himself.
“Oh, come on. I bet you walk around with a little bottle of hair gel so you can fix it when you take it off.”
“Magician never reveals his secrets-” he looked off at something behind you that caught his attention. You furrowed your eyebrows together in confusion, turning around to see what it was.
Miguel. He hadn't noticed your presence yet, but there was no way he wasn’t going to.
What do you do now? You felt paralyzed.
Hawk seemed to think of something before you could. He placed his helmet on the handle of the bike, very obviously making sure to make noise with it to attract attention, and leaned in, pulling you into a kiss. A… rather passionate one.
He pulled away, wordlessly leading you in the direction of your front door. You got the hint, walking to your place without turning around, and unlocking the door. He pushed you in and closed the door behind him with his foot, loudly. You stayed like that, with him leaning on the door and your bodies flushed together, in silence, trying to listen if Miguel was walking towards your door or not. After a couple seconds, you figured he was not, and you pulled away from him.
“Sorry,” he looked at the floor, sheepish. An usual sight for the new him. “First thing that came to mind.”
“Why is jumping each other the first thing that we think of when we panic?” You laughed.
Hawk laughed along, more at ease knowing you weren’t mad at him. “You did it first.”
You sat down on your couch, but he stayed standing. “Sorry to pull you into this. And thank you for helping out just now. Think I’ll just pity myself ‘till I sleep and then die of embarrassment tomorrow when I see him or something. You can go if you want.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll- yeah.” He started walking to the door, but stopped midway, turning around to face you again. “Hey what if-” he tried to find the words to explain his idea- “um- he probably thinks we’re dating right? Or at least hooking up, or something. I mean, after all the kissing… and stuff.”
“Shit. Yeah. I’ll clear things up, sorry-”
“No! What if- what if we let him?”
“What… do you mean?”
“What if we let him think we’re dating? And not just him. Everyone else too.”
“Why would we do that?”
“So he won’t think you're in love with him!”
“I’ll rephrase it then. Why would you do that?”
“I mean you know- you know I’m still really into Moon. Maybe we could make her… want what she can’t get?”
“You think that would work? On Moon?”
He just shrugged. “Maybe.”
“So you’re suggesting we fake-date.”
“I guess.”
“Have you never seen a movie with a fake dating trope? Doesn't end well.”
“What, you think you’ll catch feelings?” He opened his signature grin, and you sighed, annoyed.
“I’m just saying it’s probably gonna blow up on our face eventually.”
“Why? We can just pretend to date for like a couple weeks. And then we break up or whatever.”
“I’m not-” This could not be a good idea. Could it? “Look I’ll- I’ll think about it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
[. . .]
Miguel, Miguel, Miguel. Miguel seemed to be what occupied your thoughts the most. No matter how absurd the amount of drama you were going through was, your thoughts always came back to him.
But the night after the letters got out… it wasn't like that. Eli Moskowitz- well, Hawk, hadn’t been in your head all that much ever since you got over the last crush you had on him a couple years ago. But now Miguel wasn't the only thing in your head anymore, weird of a way as everything else had come into your thoughts.
So you decided.
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A/N: in all honesty im only rewriting this because im in a bit of a slum and i almost deleted this off of my ao3 bc of how terribly written the original chapters are lol so idk here’s something someone might like i guess. I won’t be in any rush to post the chapters of this whatsoever, scandalous is 100% my priority this is just for some piece of mind bc I know I’m better than the shitty writing in the original version of this lol
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ace-and-sleepdeprived · 6 months
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[i come presenting a spiderverse oc that i have not gotten around to talking about but he has a whole lil' au written around him tehe]
It was supposed to simply be a routine anomaly capture mission until the spiderpeople ended up chasing the villain into this world's - Earth-803 - Alchemax. But what makes this one worse is that it secretly and routinely experimented on actual human beings. Miguel found himself not feeling that sorry when the villain killed a good amount of the scientists working in this secret part of the company. But before they were going to leave, he heard crying coming from one of the larger cells. There was a sign outside of the door that simply read: PROJECT ARACHNOID.
He didn't expect to find a fucking child bound up in a straightjacket and fucking muzzle sitting inside of a cold, sterile cell. But this wasn't an ordinary kid, no. He had four black fuzzy spider legs protruding from his back, curled tightly around his shaking frame.
Miguel obviously sliced the kid out of the bindings quickly, finding a young, spider-hybrid boy with curled black hair, two crimson colored eyes with smaller black eyes beneath them, black pedipalp-like mandibles on the sides of his face, long fangs, retractable talons on his hands and feet that looked like they were stained black and had soft hair on the back of them, and black splotches all over his small arms and shoulders. He was wearing a collar that had a tag that read SPI53R. STATUS: FAILURE.
Surprisingly, the hybrid boy took to Miguel quickly, his little frame feeling almost weightless in his arms. One day pass on his wrist later and he was brought back to HQ for some much needed TLC. When they arrived back in his office, Miguel requested Lyla to scan him, only to learn that this little spider-hybrid was a variant of Gabriella. His name was Luca O'Hara, and he'd been the son of 803's Miguel and Dana. 803 Miguel was once that world's spiderman, but he was killed in an accident when Luca was only 3. With his father out of the picture, Alchemax - more specifically Tyler Stone - decided to track down, kill Dana, and kidnap Luca to experiment on him to try and see if him having Miguel's unstable DNA would result in a more powerful spiderperson.
Long story short, they turned Luca into what he was now. A terrified, traumatized 6-year-old who spent 3 years of his life only knowing the cold and sterile environment of Alchemax and the pains of the experiments he was forced through.
While it'd been nearly a year since Gabriella had died, Miguel wasn't about to abandon Luca. Not when he'd already bonded with him. Most of those early days with him were spent with Miguel holding Luca on his lap or carrying him while he worked.
Miguel naturally became protective of Luca, wanting to protect him after he'd spent so long only knowing pain. While mutants are known of in 2099, they're still stigmatized, especially ones who looked the way Luca did. So instead of being in a city that might view him as inhuman, he lives in a large house secluded from Nueva York and a good amount of the world that would likely bring him harm.
Slowly but surely, Luca loses his shell and winds up being a curious, energetic and lively young boy who just wants to learn. He loves being at the Society and climbing around in Miguel's office while he works. [and almost giving his poor dad a heart attack in the process a few times] Because of his spidery characteristics, he has different noises to indicate what he's feeling. As he becomes more lively and comfortable, little warbled chirps become common, often catching people off guard at times. But he's happy, and far from the terrified hybrid boy Miguel found in a secluded while cell.
Nothing comes close to Miguel's son. Not after what happened to Gabriella. It doesn't matter that he's a little spidery, Miguel will murder anyone who dares try to hurt Luca.
[pspsps @pinkpinkspidey can luca and mariano be brothers??]
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blueiskewl · 1 year
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3,000-Year-Old Mummy Found in Peru
Archeologists have found a pre-Hispanic mummy surrounded by coca leaves on top of a hill in Peru’s capital next to the practice field of a professional soccer club.
Archeologists have found a pre-Hispanic mummy surrounded by coca leaves on top of a hill in Peru’s capital next to the practice field of a professional soccer club.
A team on Thursday viewed the skeleton with long black hair lying face up with its lower extremities tied with a rope braided from vines of vegetable origin. Stones surrounded the mummy buried one meter (three feet) down.
Miguel Aguilar, a professor of archeology at Universidad Nacional Mayor de San Marcos, said the mummy was buried in a ritual that included coca leaves and seashells.
The burial was on top of a destroyed U-shaped clay temple, a characteristic of some pre-Hispanic buildings. The mummy has not yet been subjected to radiocarbon dating to determine its age, Aguilar said.
He said old fly eggs were found next to the male skeleton, leading them to believe the body was exposed for at least several days before being covered with dirt.
It was found in Rímac, a district separated by a river of the same name from the oldest part of Lima. Aguilar also heads the Historical and Cultural Center of the Municipality of Rímac.
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Pieter Van Dalen, a professor at Universidad Nacional Mayor de San Marcos who is an expert on archeology of the Peruvian coast but was not involved in the project, said the rope binding the lower extremities of the mummy is an example of the pattern seen in ceremonies. He cited another mummy found in a different area of Lima whose body was also tied with vegetable ropes.
The team of excavators worked the first months of this year collecting up to eight tons of garbage that covered the top of the hill, which is next to the training field and headquarters for the Sporting Cristal soccer club. Police also removed homeless people and drug addicts who camp out around the hill.
The hill, which has remains of ancient mud walls, was a “huaca," a Quechua word meaning oracle or sacred place. There are more than 400 huacas in Lima, according to the Ministry of Culture.
Mummies and other pre-Hispanic remains have been found in unusual places in the city. Workers installing natural gas lines or water mains have found mummies, sometimes children, inside large clay vessels.
There are even cases of discoveries by residents, such as Hipólito Tica, who found three pre-Hispanic mummies in a hole in the patio of his house. He kept quiet about them for a quarter century, until in 2022 they were removed by archaeologists with permission from Peru's Ministry of Culture.
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leon-is-typing · 2 years
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Okay so I decided to write an headcanon for Robby Keene from Cobra Kai because the Maze runner request is really late and I'm sorry for that 💀 I hope you will enjoy this small Headcanon
Robby Keene x Male reader
⚠️Warnings: maybe a bit of violence and some bad words but mostly fluff
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How you two met
- You were the new student in the high school he has been going to so he didn't really paid attention to you when you came along tbh
-At first you didn't really catch his interest, he started to notice you when you took part of a fight in between Miguel and Robby by pushing one of them against a locker trying to calm them both. After that he kept an eye on you
- Later in the week you were running late and it seems that he was also running late and you happened to run into each other and all the books he had in his arms fell on the ground. This is actually how you met... And saying he was pissed was really an understatement
- At first he was going to yell the heck out of you but when he saw you and heard you apologize he completely forgot the fact you've just run into him
- After that you helped him gathering his things and run off to your first period
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You met again
- The second time you met was on the lunch break you were chilling with Sam and when Robby came to you
- You were pleased to see the mysterious guy you've ran into earlier in the week apologizing again for running into him with a shy smile he forgave you right on the spot saying that it was okay chuckling slightly
- After that you and him talked for a bit and you actually became close friends! He even proposed to you to join the dojo, but you told him that you were already practicing karate well with your father at home
- When you told him that he was astonished to say the least- And now he often ask you to come train with him at the dojo or your house! And not to brag but you're really good at karate! The first time you trained together he was amazed by your skills
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How he realized his feelings for you
- I feel like he always kind of acknowledged his feelings but what actually triggered them was when a guy came up flirting with you he felt a strange feeling inside of him burning inside of him just at the sight
- He felt like he wanted to strangled the poor guy and the first thing he did was... To drag you away from this guy saying you had a school project to finish with him (which is a big lie but shhh) leaving the poor boy confused-
- Well after he realised his feelings he started to stutter and blush when you happened to touch him by accident or when you were smiling at him or just low-key existing and breathing my guy is totally in love with you
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How he confessed his feelings to you
- He actually didn't know how to confess his feelings to you so he just asked his friends ( by friends I meant Sam ) and she proposed to leave an anonymous note in your locker asking you to met him somewhere
- So he did as told and left a note in your locker asking you to met him at the Miyagi-Do dojo after school
- You where trying to grab your math book in your locker when you saw it.. You took the note gently and read it , the mysterious note said to met at the Miyagi-Do dojo after school
- So naturally out of curiosity you came to the dojo.. And to your surprise you saw Robby waiting for you.. At the sight of him your heart started to beat a lot faster and when he saw you he shyly smiled at you..
-And well his confession was a lot more messier than when he had practiced in front of his mirror but in the end it didn't matter because you gladly returned his feelings
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After his confession
- Well you two are a really cute couple, PDA is a big yes for the both of you either for Robby or for you, even though Robby would never initiate it, if you were to grab his hand because you are nervous or you just want to hold hands he will never turn you down
- Remerber when I told you he will never initiate PDA well that not totally true he will initiate it if someone would try to flirt with you to show them you're already in a relationship with someone
- You guys do not fight often but when you do it can be a really hot mess throwing mean words at each other without really thinking them but you usually forgive each other a few days after
-Overall you guys are just two idiots hopelessly in love with each other~!
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sassykattery · 11 months
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Love's Web, Pt 7
Fight fight fight–
CW: Altaira is afab, uses she/her pronouns. Angst. Slight themes of noncon touching. Arguing. Fighting.
Themes: Romance. Jealousy. Multiverse. Angst. Heartache. MiguelxAltaira. Action.
Characters: Altaira (afab oc!), Diavolo, Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, Barbatos, all brothers implied, Simeon, Solomon, Miguel O'Hara
Minors and ageless blogs DNI
18+ only
Enjoy
Masterlist
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Miguel stared at the watch for quite some time, waiting to see if it would turn on while he charged it to a nuclear energy housing he built during his stay. He had also made a substitute for rapture, and one of the reasons he wanted to be in the lab alone was so he could inject himself with it when it was finished as well. The centrifuge with the rapture was still spinning, so he began piecing together the watch again, hoping to get some sign of it working.
His thoughts were elsewhere, though. He couldn't shake the feeling something wasn't right somewhere. There was no telling if it was about his home or this new place he was in. Surely, he wasn't happy about Diavolo's chess game, but he couldn't let her know that.
There was a click and a beep as the centrifuge slowed. He stood from the bench to wait. Once it stopped spinning, he took the substitute liquid and loaded it into a needle. Very slowly, he injected the new solution in, already feeling the effects of it stabilizing his DNA. The edge came off just a little for him.
Just as he turned to go back to the bench, he saw a red screen projected above the device saying, "Canon Event Incoming." It was a good sign considering that function hadn't worked before, but Miguel tilted his head and clicked the message, allowing it to show him what event was taking place...
"Wh-What?" She asked nervously, leaning back as he continued to encroach on her space.
"I want you, Altaira. I want you in every way humanly and inhumanly possible. I want to be the one that has you so intimately."
"D-Diavolo," she whispered, looking somewhat afraid as he leaned closer. "I don't understand."
"Then let me show you."
Diavolo surged forward and planted his lips on hers, kissing her passionately. Her eyes went wide, and she struggled beneath him. He could feel the heat of her body and her heart rate skyrocketing as he pressed further into her. His tongue gently slipped into her mouth to greet her tongue softly, lapping the insides of her mouth.
He picked her up through arm strength alone as if she were weightless. She made a soft squeak in her throat when she realized what he was doing, and she felt him carrying her to the couch to lay her down on the cushions as he climbed on top of her. His barrage of kisses didn't stop, and neither did his hands from wandering up and down her body.
"Altaira, I have truly been a fool. I've wanted you so badly for so long, but I let my pride get the better of me. From the moment you stepped foot here, I knew I loved you."
Miguel stared openly at the device, watching this unfold. His teeth ground together, feeling his blood boiling at the sight. He hunched over the device, his upper body tensing as he gripped the bench countertop. There was a groaning sound as he clenched it harder, the epoxy resin beginning to weaken. The feed ended, and he was alone again.
"La madre que te parió," he growled. "Hijo de puta." His talons shot out and buried themselves into the counter. He groaned as he was stuck there for a moment. "Ay coño, no, not again."
["Motherfucker"] ["Son of a bitch"]
---
"Say no to me. Tell me you don't want me, that you only want him. Tell me, in this moment, all those nights you stayed here and we talked for hours meant nothing. Say that every time we embraced, you didn't feel your own heart rate jump just like mine did," Diavolo rasped to Altaira, pinning her to the couch cushions.
His golden eyes were filled with intense emotion, almost watering as he bore his gaze down at her. He knew she was frightened. He could feel the way her body was totally on edge and ready to bolt, to fight him if necessary, but she listened, and that's what he wanted.
"I..." was all she could say. Tears gathered in her eyes as well as she stared up at him.
"Say it now! Tell me you don't want me, too!" He snapped at her. She couldn't find the words and blinked several times.
An angered demon was a dangerous demon, and Diavolo was no ordinary demon.
"I'll give you a pact. I'll marry you, Altaira. I don't care about the nobility anymore. I don't care about what anyone has to say about me or my decisions. I can't lose you. Let me show you," he pleaded with her. "Please. I can't... I can't lose you. Not you, too."
Streams began running down her temples. She was still frightful, tense from how he overpowered her and kept her in place with his whole body laying on her like lead weights, his gravity like that of the sun.
"Dia... This..." Her brows pinched together as she tried to find the words. His hand came up to caress her cheek.
"Don't break my heart, lamb. Please, give me a chance. Give me a chance to make it right to you. You won't be without, you won't want for anything. I can take care of you for all your days. I can give you a stable life, like I know you want," he continued with a shaky voice, tears dripping down onto her blouse. "Let me love you. Let me show you what you deserve. You can deny me for anything as long as you stay, but I won't ever say no to you. I have a ring if you want it."
"She can't provide what the realm would want from the prospective royal match."
Everlasting life, and the ability to give life.
She sobbed and turned her head. "I won't live forever, and you know it."
"We can change that."
"I won't give you an heir."
"I don't care about that, Altaira, I never have. If I don't have you, an heir wouldn't matter anyway because you're the only one I can stomach calling my wife. Not a nobledemon's offspring, a greater witch, nor a siren could compare to what I have with you," he insisted, his tone bordering on begging. "Please believe me."
She sobbed again, more tears streaming down her temples and into her hair. "Why now?" She asked venomously while looking back at him, slapping her hand against his hard chest, though he felt no pain. "I've waited so long, and you kept me at arm's length. Why now?!" Her voice increased in volume with every word, barking on the word "now."
"I told you, I've been foolish, and I'm sorry, my love. I'm so sorry. I see he's taking you away from me. But please, give me a chance," he replied hastily, understanding of her anger. He waited for a moment before adding a desperate, "Please."
Another flash of anger crossed her eyes, and she started to squirm beneath him. As a last-ditch effort, he kissed her again, holding her head in his hands carefully. Their tears mixed together as their lips melded to one another. She let him continue, feeling how true to his words he was, how much he meant everything said and left unsaid. One hand remained cupped against her cheek, and the other wandered lower, caressing her arm, side, hip, even her thigh that he could reach.
"I love you," he whispered. "Let me love on you," his lips ghosted her ear, sinking to her neck to kiss her there too. She stared up at the ceiling, questioning herself in that moment.
She wasn't saying yes.
But she wasn't saying no.
He pressed his lips harder into the delicate flesh of her neck, causing her to gasp and hold him tighter. His wandering hand landed on her hip, his thumb passing up and down over her jeans. The warmth of her body was inviting, and he wanted to be enveloped in it. He sank lower and kissed the skin across her chest that peaked out around her shirt. His own senses picked up on the captivating scents her body released, like an aphrodisiac he didn't have to directly consume to feel its effects.
"My love," he murmured to no one in particular. He focused on kissing her body over her clothes, content to just show how he felt about her. "I've always thought you were beautiful. I know what you think about yourself, but you must know that demons see you differently."
She listened to him, still staring up at the ceiling while she tried to decide her next move.
"This is so soft, so easy to hold," he murmured as he gently grasped at her stomach, his long fingers carefully digging into her. His hands left her stomach to reach up to her breasts while he kissed the soft swell of her abdomen. Her eyes finally flickered down to watch him. "Your breasts are absolutely perfect. Don't get me started on your gorgeous thighs."
The woman swallowed thickly, feeling a blush high on her cheeks.
"All of you is perfect. I could hold you every night, and it'd never be enough. I've longed to touch you, to caress you like this. Your body is perfectly made... made for me," he whispered and then finally looked up at her.
Her brows pinched together again. A very hesitant, much smaller hand reached out to Diavolo. He leaned toward her, and her hand came to rest on his cheek, sliding around to touch him. All she did was blink as she watched her own hand move.
"But to feel you touch me like that..." he whispered in awe of her. His eyes were wide and glittering, pupils dilated as if he were a feline about to pounce. He kissed her wrist as her hand reached up higher to feel his locks through her fingers. Slowly, he pulled himself up to level his face with hers again, his chest pressed to her abdomen. "Altaira, you don't know what you do to me..." He sighed. That deep inhale, however, forced more of her scent onto his senses, and he gripped onto the couch to try and control himself. "I can smell your... Fuck, you're irresistible."
He kissed her roughly that time, grinding himself into her and trying to keep his hands locked onto the couch to avoid doing something he possibly shouldn't.
"Dia–" she started to mumble until Barbatos called out from the hallway.
"Apologies, my lord, but there's an emergency."
Diavolo growled and hung his head, trying to stuff down his feelings and reel in that straining erection he had.
"Can we continue this?" He asked her.
"My lord, I'm afraid it's urgent. It's Mr. O'Hara."
Within seconds, Diavolo was on his feet and striding toward the hallway, and Altaira scrambled to follow.
The three left the castle in a hurry to head toward RAD. Even from a distance, they heard the quakes and shatters within the building. They met the brothers outside the main doors.
Lucifer stepped forward first. "Satan came back to look through the library when he heard a commotion, and when he found Miguel, he– Wait!"
Altaira stormed past all of them and ran inside, hearing shouts of disapproval behind her. She followed the sounds of the destruction and found herself opening the door to the Student Council Room. She took maybe five steps into the room and was knocked to the ground. When she was rolled onto her back by her captor, she saw Miguel hovering over her.
"Miguel! What happened?" She asked. There was a feral look in his eyes as he glared down at her.
"That sneaky hejo de puta, he fucking touched you. I can smell his stench," he snapped, the eyes of his suit narrowing.
"M-Miguel, wait–"
"¡Cállate! You're mine. I had you first, cosita linda," he barked. The door opened again, and he took hold of her, dragging her back and plastering her against the far wall up high. Guarding his prize, he watched as Diavolo, Mammon, Lucifer, and Barbatos all filled the room in their demon forms.
"You idiot, she doesn't like heights. Put her down," Mammon snapped, lurching forward until Lucifer stopped him.
"You pinche demonio, I thought we went over this," Miguel called out to Diavolo.
[Fucking demon]
"She doesn't know what she wants. I don't remember her ever saying she was only yours," Diavolo replied, stepping closer. "But I highly recommend letting her go. You seem to be outnumbered."
"Gilipollas, over my dead body, now vete a tomar por culo," Miguel replied hotly.
"Oi, that's not nice," Mammon murmured as he watched Diavolo take the lead.
"The part where he called us dickheads or to go fuck ourselves?" Lucifer asked with a sigh, measuring where to retrieve Altaira from.
Diavolo and Miguel collided in a fury of arms and snarls, keeping each other in an arm hold.
"How dare you take advantage of her like that," Miguel berated the prince, shoving him back and shooting a web to bind his feet together. Diavolo fell to his knees but held out his hand to shoot a bolt of fire at Miguel, scatching his left arm and temporarily destroying the left arm of his holographic suit.
With the spiderman temporarily stopped, Diavolo looked up to Altaira, and she turned her face to avoid looking at him. He blinked and focused back on his opponent. "You don't belong in her world. You're nothing but a character from a story where she's from. Does she know you're destined to cheat on the woman who helps you with your tech?"
Miguel growled and lunged at the Demon Lord again, both of them toppling into a heap, rolling back and forth as they clawed at one another, using brute strength against one another. Diavolo threw him off and flew up in the air. The spiderman used his web to attach to one wall, pull himself up, and from the wall, he kicked himself off to tackle the prince in flight, knocking them both down to the floor again and webbing the demon's feet together again.
"That's not my story!" Miguel screamed as he tore a slash onto Diavolo's left lower wing. The prince hissed and shoved the man off him using magic, tossing him aside like a ragdoll.
Out of the corner of Miguel's eye, he saw Lucifer and Mammon approach Altaira, and quickly shot out a web for each and pulling, binding them together, back to back.
"Dammit," Mammon sighed. Lucifer snarled at the spiderman while trying to break the webbing.
Turning his attention back to Diavolo, Miguel lunged again at the prince, throwing his elbows up to use his blades, but the demon dodged away. The blades tore through the desk they landed on, cleanly splitting it. He pulled away and had the air knocked out of him as Diavolo tackled him down again, having broken the webbing around his feet.
"You come to my realm, touch and try to take away my human, destroy my building. I simply cannot allow you to exist here anymore," Diavolo whispered menacingly.
Miguel dismissed the mask of his suit and lurched forward enough to land a bite into Diavolo's shoulder, along with lending some of his paralytic venom. The Demon Lord hopped back and held his shoulder with his opposite hand, panting as the venom burned in his body.
Miguel slowly stood, his shoulders hunched as he stalked toward the prince and wiping his mouth.
"You have no one to blame but yourself," Miguel spat.
"Now that will be enough," Barbatos stated, walking calmly toward the two. He held Miguel's watch up in his hand. The man looked at his wrist, realizing it had been taken.
"Don't you dare," Miguel snapped.
"Don't worry. This is your ticket home, and I have no intention of letting anything happen until you are safely back into your realm," Barbatos replied neutrally. He stopped next to his master. "Besides, I think you already know this can't go on much longer unless you want to destroy her too, just like Gabriella."
Miguel flinched, his face instantly going dark.
"If you haven't figured it out, I'm the reason why you can't seem to leave, or totally fix your little device here," Barbatos continued, sounding apathetic as he looked over the watch and rotating it in his hand. "My presence alone is enough to maintain this dimension's timeline, and your entrance is merely a disturbance, so I am obligated to keep you from altering anything. I'm perfectly aware that the young master's love for Altaira is canon, and you know it, too. Therefore, I can not allow you to keep going like this. You must leave if you want to leave our universe in tact."
"What?"
The sound was small, unimposing, and weak. All of them looked toward Altaira, who had managed to get down on her own but at the expense of a broken ankle during their fight while the brothers were still tied up. She drug herself up, and both Miguel and Diavolo moved to help her, but she held a hand up as Lucifer and Mammon were at her side, helping her to meet the others. She leaned against Lucifer as she looked between the other three demons. "What's this about?"
"I knew what had happened because I saw the Canon Event through my watch," Miguel gestured toward the device in Barb's hand. "I just..."
"I apologize, but it would be wise for you to go," Barbatos stated to Miguel, extending his hand with the watch. He took the watch but approached Altaira. Lucifer gripped her tighter, glaring down the human mutant.
"Altaira..."
---
Thanks for reading! <3
Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.
Tags: @itsmeninerz @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @attic-club-sandwich
--
Something new! Choose your own ending!
1. "But... The Canon."
2. "Only One."
3. "Everybody Wins."
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