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ryuzakemo128 · 25 days

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Grim Reaper Part Three

Pairings: Poly 141 x female reader / female reader x her mental health

Content Warnings: Kidnapping, breaking and entering, mention of one-night stand, pregnancy from one night stand, possessive & obsessed Austrian man.

Words: 2345

Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven

Supernatural AU - Poem

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Note: Song inspired this part: Only You by The Platters

Summary:

Only you can make all this world seem right.

Only you can make the darkness bright.

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

‘If you think you are perfect because you have no disabilities, illness or family trauma. I will be there to knock you to back on your knees and crush you like the ant you are.’

‘Pathetic.’

‘Weak.’

‘More excuses from those who have a superiority complex.’

‘Turn away like you do when someone asks for help, when foster homes and orphanages do shady shit. Your word mean nothing to me.’

‘Leave. Me. Alone.’

They don’t know what your real name is. Your file is coated in so many layers of black ink it might as well be a black page. Even then, so much of who you are and what made who you have remained classified. Under lock and key. Away from unauthorized personnel. To be able to view your file they would need permission from your superiors as well as their boss.

You wore a nanofiber, reinforced body suit underneath your shirt and trousers. The black jacket draped over your shoulders, as you continued to glare from the sidelines. “I don’t care why you might want to have her. She’s not yours to have, she doesn’t belong to you, she isn’t yours to take. She is better off in our care than she is in yours. Don’t ask or request for this again.” Your superior, to say he was angry with them would be an understatement.

“It’s like they don’t understand how you function.” He groaned as he slammed the phone down. Cutting them off from making more incessant demands. You and he walked from his office to the mission briefing.

“Hopefully, they’ll find someone else to assist sir.” You told him.

He nodded in agreement, “Hopefully they do Reaper, hopefully they do.”

It felt like yesterday when that conversation occurred. You wanted to go back to that time. It was far simpler than the time of your life now. Things didn’t feel like they were constantly stacked against you for one reason or some other.

You were always told to love yourself. Yet you never learned how. You didn’t have a role model like the children you grew up with. You didn’t look up to your mother or your father, you saw them falling over themselves. Mentally, sometimes literally.

You wondered what it would like to have parents to pick you up from school. For your parents to put your report on the fridge to show off your good grades.

You reminded Soap, “I'm only helping you to make sure you don't fuck it up.”

The thick leather boots kept the cold snow from seeping to your limbs. You’ve been here before. Many times, before. The cold welcomed you back like a mother waiting for them at the front door after school.

You make took any work to have the excuse to avoid a confrontation from any of them. ‘Can’t confront someone if they’re not there, right?’ you mused with a slow smirk creeping across your face.

However, they weren’t keen on letting you slip away into the night, you were about to cut firewood as they huddled up in the main room. You didn’t mind the cold as much. It felt more welcoming to you than the warmth inside. Layering the wood, you cut up into the firewood holder inside. Picking it up from the wheelbarrow you found in the abandoned shed close by. You were about to make another trip outside. This time to gather sticks, leaves and anything to keep the fire going without resourcing to depleting their back-up firewood.

A firm hand grasping tightly on yours as you turned the doorknob, you were warm, weren’t you? You had more layers on than an onion, at least you felt like you had more layers on than people would have loved to assume. The reinforced bodysuit, the shirt, the trousers, the fur jacket over the top. Black leather with fur lined gloves to tie it all together.

Layers like an onion. Warm like a Siberian bear. The more dead wood from the snow-covered forest you gathered, seeing your mother everywhere still, you walked closer to her, or you attempted to. Yet no matter how close you got, the further away she was.

Was she a hallucination? A visual and audible hallucination? A product of her grief, lack of proper sleep, a lack of a proper send off when your parents passed at sixteen. Once you saw your mother, it was like something inside of you snapped. You didn’t realise you were chasing after her until you felt someone grab your wrist tightly.

You were slowly moving further away from the cabin, step by step, losing your mind in a haze of grief.

‘Have you come to apologise?’ you wondered. Moving faster to get closer to her. Hearing her humming through the forest. Echoing through the trees. Feeling like you were ten years old playing hide and seek with your mother in the park. Only for to disappear whenever you got too close to her.

You didn't hear them calling out to you to snap out of it. You were too caught up in the chase, the illusion of your mother's presence. The cold wind whipped around you, but you felt no chill. Your mind was racing, your heart pounding. You were desperate to find her, to talk to her, to understand.

‘I’m coming mother. Wait for me.’

‘Wait for me.’

‘Please mother.’

Those three thoughts repeating like clockwork, repeating like a broken record. A grandfather clock chiming, the sound of the reverse and slowed down. You never caught up. As soon as you closed your eyes and opened them again. The illusion of your mother vanished, replaced by the stark reality of the snow-covered forest.

As the illusion of your mother faded, you found yourself standing in the middle of the snow-covered forest, the sound of your own ragged breathing echoing in the quiet. You felt a cold shiver run down your spine, not from the frigid air, but from the realisation of what had just happened.

When you got back to the cabin, you hoped you were quiet enough to sneak to your corner and sleeping bag to go to sleep. Ghost spotting you asleep in the corner, arms crossed and frowning like you were still annoyed with someone.

Even in your sleep. You looked like you were tired of dealing with people. Though you were not as young as people assumed you were. You were treated like you didn’t know anything or that you didn’t know any better.

“I’m a thirty-year-old woman. I’ve been in the military for twelve years. Stop treating me like I don’t know anything.” You said to Price once. You were beyond angry at the time. “You have second guessed every decision I’ve made since this whole thing started. If you have an issue with how I did things you could have told me instead. For someone so keen on open communication. You haven’t been doing a lot of it.”

"I apologize, Reaper," he said, his voice sincere. "I've been under a lot of stress lately, and I've taken it out on you. I trust your judgment, and I'm sorry for doubting it."

“Try to do better. An apology without action is just as bad as no apology at all.” You reminded him. “And no, I’m not mad at you, a little disappointed, but not mad.”

Price raised an eyebrow at the second part of what you said, "You're not mad? That’s a first.”

“What can I say? I’m full of stardust and miracles.” You snorted sipping your coffee, wrapping your gloved fingers around the white coffee mug.

Price chuckled, "You're definitely something else, Reaper."

“I try. It’s hard work, and most of the time, a bow and arrow doesn’t always cut it.” You replied, taking another sip of your coffee.

His gaze falling on the compact bow on the table, next to your recurve bow, more like hunting bows. The military didn’t use them as far as knew. You have been using them to hunt for more food, Ghost said something about it while you were gone hunting.

Soap loved taking naps near you afterwards, which didn’t bother you nearly as much as they assumed. “We’re in a snowy area.” You stated. As if they should think about the cold rather than anything illicit.

His head resting on your shoulder, as you both were fast asleep, as Ghost walked inside from the blizzard outside. His breath fogging up in front of his face, closing the door behind him. Eyes drifting over to where you and Soap were huddled together on the couch in front of the fireplace.

Now the mission a distant memory. An echo inside their minds. News of your kidnapping drifted to them. A week after it had occurred. You were taken by someone while you were on mandatory leave. Price kicking himself mentally. How would he have known this would be the outcome of sending you back home?

“When was the last message she sent out?” Price asked Gaz, his frown deep and his impatience growing by the second.

Gaz checked the transcripts of the most recent messages she had sent them to the last one she had sent through before the recent one. Searching for a possible connection between the last two calls you made. The only thing standing out to them was the number. The number of your mother’s cell phone stood out to them as an anomaly.

The last two calls you made were to your mother’s cell phone. Odd. Suspicious even.

“Gaz, run a trace on the phone number, Soap, grab the co-ordinates after Gaz gives you and follow up on the location of where the phone call might have come from.” Price said to the two of them.

Alaska. Northern part of the forest called the Chugach National Forest.

"According to what I've seen. It is coming from a burner phone." Gaz told Price.

Soap is still gripping onto the shirt you gave him a year ago. "Take it." You said.

"Odd way to give a present Reaper." Soap smirked.

"Odd way to say, 'thank you' Soap." You countered with a smirk. You didn't know how to give people presents without making it awkward.

Yet Soap, he never seemed to mind. He always seemed to appreciate your awkward attempts at gift-giving. He cherished them. Although now his mind has is pictures of you in an oversized hoodie.

When your rank of Lieutenant Colonel was revealed to them. A picture of you at 18, dead pan expression and a tired look in your eyes giving look of a 'perpetually resting bitch face' according to Price. Which strangely enough fit you, well that, along with your personality of a stray feline with a penchant of an Irish goodbye.

The last recorded message to them, 'It's weird being back home. But doctors’ orders are final, and I don't think I would be able to look him in the eye if I didn't. Fear of failure is scary I'll say it. It's strange here. Too quiet. I think I got used to Price's snoring and Gaz's endless chatter. You have no idea how many times I was overstimulated, and your chatter was the perfect white noise I needed. Hard to have ADHD and depressive disorder with psychotic traits mixed in. But hey, it is what it is, and the rest is stardust, biscuits, naps and getting scared because you saw your own mask in the mirror at 3am. I'll say this once though I love you. I'll never say to your face because you'll have to pry the word from me like you'd have pry the mint chocolate ice cream from my cold dead fingers. But, yeah, I love you and I'll see you soon alright? And you too Ghost."

The last message you sent out. 'I think someone might be in my house. Not too keen on being someone's target. Ghost, being you're the responsible one out of the two of us. I sent you confirmation of where I lived with my parents. A starting point.' The background noise of creaking floorboards, as you whispered. An unmistakable Austrian accent, "Maus where are you?" In the background followed by heavy rain masking the footsteps.

You continued to whisper into the phone as the message was pretty long in duration. "Ghost, you were right, I admit it, you were right during that argument, and I was clearly wrong." You moved to the attic. Sneaking there while the intruder was downstairs. You continued to whisper, "I'm sorry I argued with you. I should've listened to you. I should've stayed with you. I should've..." Your voice trailed off as you fumbled with the attic hatch, trying to secure it. "I should've just stayed with you."

A sob escaped your lips as you realized your mistake. You had been so stubborn, so determined to prove your independence, that you had ignored the warning signs. Now, you were trapped, alone, and terrified.

You pulled out your phone and sent a final message to Ghost: "I was wrong. He found me. I'm in the attic."

"Mäuschen there you are." The male Austrian voice said in a chilling tone, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the attic hatch. The line went dead as he crushed the cell phone beneath his hefty foot. "You're pregnant Maus. I can't have you hurting OUR child."

You didn’t know what he was getting at, what did he mean by our child? Surely you remember what he means by that don’t you? Apparently, it seems to bother him. It bothers him that you don’t remember him. That’s fine Maus. He’ll make you remember him. One way or another, you will remember who he is.

Over his shoulder you go Maus.

Right to the den of inequity.

One of his own making.

Only you can make all this world seem right.

Only you can make the darkness bright.

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

Note: I'm trying to hint at him without revealing who he is too fast. I hope you enjoyed reading. See you when part 4 comes out.

German Meaning for:

Maus means mouse.

Mauschen means little mouse.

109 notes · View notes

giuliettagaltieri · 1 year

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Project: Eros

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Synthezoid!Reader

Synopsis: It does not feel the same without your wings and halo and you turn to science to help you gain them back. But despite your angelic appearance, you find yourself allured by the weakness and carnality of the flesh.

Warning: Innuendos, manhandling, size kink, virgin reader, explicit smut, unprotected smut, belly bulging, wing pulling, creampie

Word Count: 5435

3 of 3

It was not difficult for you to fit into the Spider Society. Usually, you spend your day beside Miguel, aiding him in delegating tasks to the spider recruits. Sometimes, you would just go around the HQ, chatting and meeting new people.

But something else has been taking your time as of lately.

Somehow it just doesn’t feel right to you that your wings and halo are both missing. You felt utterly bare without them and you often found yourself substituting their absence with an obnoxious feather coat that Lyla chose personally. She said that you too should have a coat like her and you were just happy to accept it as it was very warm and comfortable.

Lyla was enthusiastic in volunteering to create the devices for you but you wanted to at least design them out, starting from the type of material to use.

You were thinking that the molecules to build the feathers could be made from keratin-based nanofibers. That would mimic the characteristics of real wings. It would be durable and hydrophobic, which will ensure that you will not fall to your death despite any weather.

When you told Miguel that you wanted to have the wing socket implanted on your back, he was rather skeptical, telling you that it would be dangerous to have such a large target attached to you.

“Miguel, if you lost an arm, would you want a cybernetic implant like the Winter Soldier or would you settle for a retractable blade like Razor Fist?” You glared at him hard. “Both would work fine in battle but it wouldn’t be the same, would it?”

Lyla stops whatever she’s doing and stares at Miguel critically.

He grumbles his reply and just reaches for the tape measure lying around on the table he’s leaning on. “Alright, but I’ll be leading the team.” He twirls his finger. “Turn around for me.”

You grin at Lyla who resumes her work with an amused smile.

Besides, you are not automatically going to become a battle type synthezoid like J.A.R.V.I.S. Vision. You would rather help Miguel through an earpiece. You can barely lift a liter of bottled water for five minutes, what makes you think that you’ll be able to throw a proper punch?

Perhaps you’ll get there but you’d rather work behind screens for now.

Giddily, you do as Miguel says and you show him your back.

“Drop the coat.” He grunts. “Honestly, you look like an oversized flamingo in this.”

“Hey!” Lyla yells but she gets ignored.

You try not to squirm away from Miguel’s touch as his fingers brushed against your skin, the cold tape measure being pressed flat on your skin that was exposed in your sundress and Miguel hums.

“Alright, I have a couple ideas how we could make the wings lighter. We could attach it just below your scapula. I don’t want to touch your spine as much as possible so we could perhaps sit them a few millimeters away on each side of your lumbar vertebrae.” His finger brushes down to the said location and you can’t help the chills that ran through you.

Miguel seems to notice and his eyes dart to the back of your head. “We could attach it to multiple ribs to support the weight.” He runs his finger on your back, his finger digging to the cotton sundress he bought for you. Another shiver and this time, he did not miss it as he was already waiting for it.

You gasp when two strong hands slammed on your waist. Immediately, you were squirming, trying to get out of his hold.

“I knew it.” He rasps. “You’re ticklish.”

“No!” It came out as a squeal when Miguel wriggled his fingers on your side. “Stop it!” Your eyes fill with tiny tears as uncontrollable laughter bubbled out of you.

A call on Lyla’s screen stole Miguel’s attention and you collapsed to his forearm that he used to cage around your midriff.

“It’s a call from Earth-199999.” Lyla beams at you. “Heya, Peter!”

Peter was shown on the screen, not in his suit but a plain tee and flannel. “I figured out the mechanism of the cas- 3D printer. I also broke down the organic fibers used in Y/N’s musculature. I could send it to you now.” Loud clacking was heard from Peter’s end and a small box appeared on Lyla’s screen.

“Got it. Thanks, Peter! This is a ton of help.” Lyla waves at him and the screen shuts off.

You finally got out of Miguel’s hold and you picked up the coat.

“How does it look, Lyla? You think we could bond it to keratin?” Miguel asks.

Lyla rubs her chin and opens more screens. He glowing hands dancing in the air, creating and breaking molecular bond structures. “If we put this here, and replace this with that…Pretty sure we can do it.”

You cheer. “And how soon can we do the implant?” You ignore Miguel’s disapproving look.

“We have to start from scratch and grow the material ourselves. We could perhaps harvest after four days. Then we have to assemble the wings from the bones to the epidermis.” Lyla scratches her head, processing the data. “With the team we have, that could take two whole days.”

“Make it three.” Miguel says. “I’ll be the one to put it together. No one else. I want it to be as precise as possible.” He turns to you. “You’ll be able to wait that long, won’t you, firefly?”

Aware that it was more of a rhetorical question, you simply nod at him.

“And my halo?” You ask with your eyes wide and expectant. “You’ll let me help design it, right?”

Miguel simply nods. “We can work on it after dinner.” A loud beeping from his device told you that he’s once again needed by the spiderverse.

He excuses himself as you stay and help Lyla around in preparing the materials.

“Wow, I never heard him say something so healthy for a long time.” Lyla hums as she glitches from one of her screens to the other. “He almost didn’t take proper meals and would rather nap in his office before working again.”

You tut disapprovingly, slipping on a pair of protective gloves and safety goggles.

“If he keeps on doing that, he’d drop dead by 40.” You say as you pour a murky solution in a separatory funnel to separate the protein biopolymers that you need.

“Maybe even sooner.” Lyla replies, half joking. “But he looks more rested since you arrived.”

You smile at her bashfully. “I’m glad to hear that but I’d also hate to get in the way of his work.”

Lyla waves at you dismissively. “Don’t worry! I developed a program to create better roster depending on the availability of the spiders to give Miguel more time with you.” She glitches right in front of you and shows a pixelated clipboard that shows the statistics. “It’s been a week since you arrived and I have been running this since and so far, everything is going so well.”

You squint at the data, more and more impressed the longer you stare at it. “That’s really efficient of you, Lyla.”

She spins the clipboard before it vanishes, smirking proudly. “It’s in our code.”

Working side by side with Lyla felt like the most natural thing to do, a synergy being created with your dynamics.

Meows Morales and Spider-Guin dropped by to have Guin’s suit repaired in the lab next to you and they hang around your lab for the meantime.

The purring of Meows Morales might have been the cutest thing you saw so far since you are brought in the physical world.

Both of them fell asleep on your lap as you tried to design a device that could project a halo.

Before taking the train to snoozeville, Meows randomly asked why you’d stop at that when you can use it as a hoop or further manipulate it into any badass weapon.

It was not a bad concept, although it sounds exactly like a bona fide Meows Morales idea.

You told Miguel about it and he considers it while chewing on tuna, you’re starting to introduce proteins in your diet now.

“I suppose it could be helpful.” He swallows. “But that would only encourage you to do crime fighting—which I will never allow, by the way—so no.”

You only shrug as you chew on peas. “Maybe one day, when my muscles are strong and coordinated enough.”

Miguel dismisses it quickly and you just let him win. He did such a good job in cooking dinner, you just had to concede.

The topmost part of the building was a private floor for Miguel. Well, Miguel and you now.

You tried to convince him to let you sleep on the pods that took inspiration from Tokyo’s capsule hotels. It’s a space where thousands of spider-people could crash for a night or two but as you are staying longer than a couple nights, Miguel offers the extra room in his private floor.

The rest of the days were a blur.

As Miguel made your wings in the lab, you had to spend your days in the gym, just next to the training grounds. You wanted to be involved in making your wings but Miguel thinks it was more important for you to build muscle strength and endurance at the moment.

If your back is too weak, you would be slouching under the weight of the wings that have an expanse of five meters. Originally, it was supposed to be bigger to carry your weight but Miguel made modifications that will make the material lighter and more aerodynamic so it’d really work despite the smaller size.

It was finally time to surgically attach the wings on your back and Dr. Stephen Strange’s skills were once again needed.

Miguel reassures him that the Spider Society will watch over his universe for the rest of the surgery. Strange wasn’t easily persuaded. He was rather skeptical and Miguel’s hostility towards him wasn’t helping either but when spider-people started filling the sanctum to protect Earth-199999 upon Miguel’s order, he was reassured to certain levels.

The operation concerns multiple bone, nerve, and tissue alignment, something that Stephen should have been familiar with, had it not been enormous wings that needed to be attached to your back.

Nevertheless, the team succeeded. The sixteen-hour operation went so well that they had to do a couple reality checks to see that what they just accomplished was really real.

You had to stay in bed for another week to allow your stitches to heal.

During that time, Miguel was able to give you the device that projects your halo, it came in the form of a heavily bejeweled barrette. You adored the device which looked more like a jewelry to you.

When you took your first step with the additional weight on your back, Miguel was by your side, ready to catch you as you held on to the parallel bars that helped you regain your balance and coordination.

After that, you are back in the gym to continue building overall strength. You’d hate to have a bad gait and just let the beautiful individually created feathers drag on the floor as you walked. They’d eventually get dirty and damaged.

Your body has healed and your latissimus dorsi and trapezius are used to the wings’ weight that you unconsciously lift them in the air and curl them around yourself when accidental explosions from the other labs startle you.

When you flapped your enormous wings and perched yourself on Miguel’s shoulder after a lizard slithered itself on the hallway outside of Miguel’s office, he knew you were ready to attempt your first flight.

Miguel stood next to you in the training area, on an elevated block that resembled a building. There’s a lot of it in the area and they’re meant to let the new spiders get the hang of swinging around downtown.

But you’re not exactly going to swing through them, you’ll be jumping off them and hopefully you will not crash and literally break a leg. Although you doubt Miguel will ever let that happen.

“Go on.” He tells you when you kneel on the edge to look down at the sheer drop. “I’ll be watching, don’t worry.”

“Don’t save me too soon though.” You say as you stand up and brush the dust off your knee.

He just nods, watching you breathe deeply.

“Don’t be scared.”

“It’s impossible not to!” You whine.

‘’But do it anyway.” He crosses his arms, watching you stall around, fixing your flowy dress, preening your wings with your shaking hands. “Just jump!”

“Alright, alright!”

You can feel the rush of your blood, making your entire body hot, and your heart, it’s beating erratically.

“You look like you’re about to have a panic attack.” Miguel comments, flatly.

Just to spite him, you throw yourself on the edge. You weren’t really prepared yet, were you? But of course, you’re too stubborn to admit that to him.

You open up your wings and the resistance to air is so dramatic that your breath hitches upon impact, you are still descending but slower. Your fist clenched as you flapped your wings until your feet were safely planted on the ground.

There’s a soft thud behind you. But you did not get to turn your head when two large hands wrapped around your waist and your feet left the ground once more as you were twirled around by an excited looking Miguel.

“You did so well! And on your first try too.” He laughed and you can’t help but laugh along with him.

His eyes crinkled as he grinned stupidly at you. The light from the setting sun shone brightly behind you, making your halo glint and you, you look more angelic than ever. He clears his throat and he sets you back down to stand on your own feet.

“I wanna go again!” You cheer.

Miguel allowed you a few more times and with every try, you were able to get better and better. On the last one, you soared through the air and land safely on another building.

“Did you see how I stuck that landing?” You asked Miguel again for what seemed like the third time that night.

He wipes the sheen from the steak he had just eaten from his lips and nods at you. “It was absolute perfection, firefly.” He sips on the wine, amused at how you suddenly turn bashful, smiling down at your own plate as you push a sautéed mushroom.

“You really think so?”

Miguel pressed his lips to a thin line as you bat your eyes at him.

What exactly are you doing? Is this a deliberate attempt to stir him up? Or are you doing this without even noticing the effect you had on him?

“I know so, mi princesa.”

Your eyes go round at the nickname, your movement turns more skittish as you play with the halo device that you put atop the table, giving your head a brief rest from its weight.

It has become a routine for you to clean up the table as it was Miguel who cooks for you. And perhaps it was just his imagination getting the best of him but Miguel could have sworn there was more sway on your hips as you carried the plates to the sink, the movement more sensual.

He cups his jaw as he watches you clean the dishes. Miguel found himself leaning back on his chair. You’re just so effortlessly beautiful, aren’t you? He watched your foot slip out of your fluffy slippers and rub at your calf.

“I can finish cleaning up.” Miguel offers. “You must be tired.”

You shake your head, smiling so warmly at him, he almost felt bad for the sinful thoughts that ran through his head. “It’s okay, I’m almost done anyway.”

“Your back is stiff.” He comments, his brows drawing to a frown, wondering if you strained yourself too much. The curve of your back turns softer after hearing his words and he just watches you adjust your posture. “Do you want to take a warm shower?”

You roll your eyes. “It broke, remember?” It was all you ever did when you arrived, taking warm showers in your very own bathroom and eventually, it gave up on you.

Miguel gets up to hand you a towel to dry your hands. “You can use mine.” He does not falter, meeting your eyes despite how swiftly they snapped to him. The look he gives you is heavy and you remain staring, afraid you’ll miss something by just looking away for a quarter second. “Frankly, I’m getting a little tired of this roommate setup we have going on.” He’s no longer talking about your sleeping arrangements and he thinks you know it too.

“Is that so?” You gently put the plate down. “Why don’t you do something about it then?” You whisper in a tone he never heard you use before, everything about it so carnal.

The towel from your hand drops to the hardwood floor as Miguel pulls you by the waist to slam your chest against his. He studies your features before devouring your lips. The squeal you give when he lifts your body so your bum is sitting on the countertop is swallowed by his hungry kisses.

Miguel groans softly when you card your fingers through his hair, your nails gently running through his scalp.

Gossamer threads connect your lips as you part. His pupils are dilated, his breathing heavy.

“Should I stop?” He rasps out.

You continue to play with his hair, curling and pinching his dark strands on your delicate fingers. Unable to trust your voice, you only shake your head ‘no’, a flash of vulnerability and desperation was there and Miguel can see them very well.

You have no idea where he’s taking you but you trust him enough not to care. It was only when gravity held you tightly in her clutches that you started to panic but the soft mattress under you answered your questions.

“What happened to the warm shower?” You snicker at Miguel who is trying to reach for the zipper on your back but your wings get in the way.

“Later. Didn’t want your flavor to get washed off.”

You grimace and even let out a giggle. “That’s disgusting.”

A wet stripe was licked on your neck and that was all the answer you got as he was now losing his patience with your dress. Until finally, he just ops to grip your collar and you hear the unmistakable sound of the fabric tearing. “You are so buying me a new dress, mister.” You jab a finger to his chest.

His nose skims your throat down to your chest, humming deeply. “Anything you want, baby. Anything you want.”

Goosebumps once again erupt on your skin when his lips press a soft kiss on the fat of your chest, you gasp softly when the tips of his fangs press on you but not quite breaking your skin, only grazing teasingly.

Miguel meets your eyes before he takes a hardened bud between his lips.

“Oh!” Your hand flies to his shoulder, surprised with the sensation he caused. “Miggy, that’s—Oh!”

His hand scoops you up, lifting your torso off the bed, and he hunches over you as he sucks hard, as if trying to draw milk.

Your eyes squeeze hard when he switches to the other bud, leaving the other one all stiff, tingly, and wet with slobber.

Your stomach almost cramps up when Miguel leaves a trail of kisses on it as he brings your thighs up and presses them on the map of skin he was just kissing.

He chuckles when he finally sees you.

“What are you laughing about?” You almost whine, brows pulled to the cutest frown.

Miguel presses a kiss on your thigh and brushes a kiss on your almost pulsating clit, making your attempt to press your legs close unsuccessful, only trapping him further.

“I’m only admiring, mi princesa.”

You try to hold your frown but the bastard can be pretty charming if he wanted to.

Shyly, you part your legs for him. He nips on your inner thigh, making you shift your hips but his large and heavy hand lands on the back of your thighs to keep you pressed on the mattress, your body sinking deeper on it under Miguel’s hold.

“Don’t run away from me now.” He looks at you and slowly lifts his hand off, watching closely if you’ll do as he says. Your eyes are on him when he raises the same hand to his lips and presses his index and middle finger flat on his tongue and they emerge slightly glistening. You follow them as they move slower until they disappear and next thing you know, you can feel them.

Warm, rough, and big.

You hold your breath when they brush on your lips down there, parting them softly.

“Eyes on me.” Miguel says sternly and your eyes snap up to meet his.

You let out a soft hum when Miguel’s thumb slides on your slit to gather your slick and rubs careful circles on your puckering clit. The thrill was making your back tingle, and you jolt when his middle finger slides inside you. When he curls it upwards, you throw your head back against the pillows, lips parted so beautifully.

“I said, eyes on me.” Miguel growls.

Reluctantly, you look back to him, letting your elbows support your torso to take him in better. Your brows are drawn together again when he rubs your twitching walls. Your wings shift, almost looking like they’re about to flap in excitement.

“Miggy.” You breathe out, feeling your toes curl up when he adds another finger. “Gentle, please.”

A loud squelch, when he pulls them out halfway before plunging them back in, makes you bite your lip.

Miguel grins cockily, encouraged by your hums and broken whimpers. His fingers worked with precision. Every stroke never fails to earn him a breathy moan, his veins popping out as he works your tightness.

Every motion felt like a warning, like the sand on an hourglass, ever falling, ever filling. You know that something is going to happen to your body soon, very very soon. And you find yourself chasing it.

It felt like falling.

There was a tickle on your stomach that you can only associate with the feeling of dropping from a sheer height and it travels to your legs and your spine. You scream as your back arches off the bed, your nails digging on the toughness of Miguel’s biceps.

“There you go.” Miguel groans, his fingers picking up the pace, your clit buzzing under his warm thumb.

Tears sprung on your eyes as the sensation garbled up and swallowed you whole. You were reaching for Miguel before you knew it. You whimper when his fingers slide out of you, your juices leaking on his sheets and smearing on your skin as he wrapped an arm on your waist.

He presses a kiss on your shoulder and you wrap your arm on his neck, wanting only to be as close to him as physically possible.

“Too much?” He whispers between kisses.

You put a distance between you so you can look at him but meeting his eyes only made your cheeks warm, reminding Miguel that he’s touching a virgin pure and he never felt more ravenous.

“Mm—no. Don’t wanna stop, Miggy.” You say, bashfully, more to his chest than him as you are still unable to meet his eyes.

That was all he needed to hear.

Miguel was already guiding you to lie back down on the bed. But a gentle twitching of your brows has him halting his movements.

“What’s wrong?” He asks quickly, his eyes scanning your body for any possible source of your discomfort.

You shift your back uncomfortably and he watches you reposition on the mattress before you look at him apologetically. “Sorry. My wings-”

Miguel doesn’t let you finish as he was already manhandling you so you are lying on your stomach. A soft smack on your bum has you gasping.

“Miguel!”

He only chuckles before two large hands grip on your waist, his fingers are trying to memorize the feeling of your skin under his touch and you just let him. Miguel lifts your hips up and pulls you flush against him.

Your tiny fingers search his bed blindly for the enormous pillows and when you found one, you pull it underneath you, where your torso collapses. He watches as you smooshed your cheek against it.

You’re too adorable for your own good.

“Not falling asleep, are you?” He asks, purposefully making his voice louder. “It’s rude to fall asleep while fucking.”

He saw your wings twitching, the tips swooshing to hide your face from him. “I’m not!” It came muffled.

The calloused surface of his palms explored your back, his brows rising appreciatively when your entire body responds to him as he gently rubs the base of your wings.

“Like it?”

You shift your wings and you look at him from your shoulder, your eyes following every stroke. “Mhm.”

The bed dips when he leans down to plant a kiss on the base of your spine.

He grips the back of your thigh and he slides his finger against the slick dripping on your skin. His cock flares angrily at the sight of you. Miguel strokes himself and guides the tip to your entrance but he underestimates your wetness as he easily glides, going forward and hitting past your throbbing clit and bumping on the pudge of your belly.

“What-” You try to take a peek but a firm hand lands just between the base of your wings, keeping you pressed on the pillow.

Again, you feel the moist warmth brush on your skin but this time, it is lodged on your entrance.

“This might hurt a bit, firefly.” Miguel says, his voice deep.

Your reaction came swiftly just as Miguel managed to pop the head in.

“M-Miggy!” You sobbed.

Miguel tried to hush you with his hand rubbing patterns on your waist. He glances down and now that he does, the size he’s trying to shove in looks ridiculous compared to your stature.

He sinks in slower, too slow for his liking but he’s putting you over his needs at the moment.

You writhe on the pillow trying to muffle your cries, not wanting Miguel to get too worried and eventually pull out. Your knuckles turn white by how hard your fists gripped the sheets.

“Almost there.” He murmurs.

“‘S not all in?” You whine at him, eyes all red and puffy. “I can’t take more.”

Miguel stops pressing in, withdraws slightly and shallowly thrusts on you.

“I’ll do it in one go.” He tells you.

It scared you but you figured it would be better, like ripping a band-aid.

You brace yourself for the incoming pain.

He grabs your waist tightly, his blunt nails leaving marks on your stomach. The shallow thrusts continue, as if he’s building up to it.

It was swift, his cock plunging deep until it kissed your cervix. You let out a voiceless scream. Your thighs twitch as you are stretched to your limit.

Miguel reaches for your clenched fist and he slots his large fingers between yours, the other hand reaching to rub on your clit. He grits his teeth, his willpower thinning. “You alright?”

There was no response from you and Miguel almost considers pulling out and trying again another time when you raise your head.

“Why’d you stop?” You ask, your cheeks streaked with tears, your lashes have clumped up, all wet and alluring.

“I didn’t want to hurt you more than I have.” He says, a soft smile that he reserves only for you was present.

You huff, much to his surprise and you slump your cheeks back on the pillow.

Did you want him to move?

“Should I?” The cocky grin is back on Miguel’s lips.

You only hum in response.

It was yet again a shallow thrust, he barely moved.

“Miggy-”

“I know, firefly.” He cuts you off.

And the thrusts eventually grow faster and rougher.

To the point that the bed groans with the force of Miguel’s movement.

And he makes you take it all, bullies your cunt into the shape of him inside you.

Your breath hitches with every jerk of his hips, your ass jiggling with every motion.

A particular moan is ripped from you when he drags his cock out slowly, letting you feel all of him and he sinks himself right back, his skin slapping against yours. Your wings flap uncontrollably, every feather shivering.

“Miguel…Miguel.” His name spills from your swollen lips like a prayer.

And the feeling of falling returns as Miguel pounds on you. Your velvet walls clamp on him, driving him mad.

Your twitching does not stop and your voice grew louder and almost pleading. He tilts his head to the side to avoid being hit by your wings and in the spur of the moment, he reached for them and held the base of your wings with a single hand.

The action takes you by surprise that you explode in the purest form of ecstasy.

Miguel groans and his hips falter for a second.

You flutter hard around him, wrapping him in your tight heat. He throws his head back, so lost in your warmth that he almost misses how your essence spray on his meaty thighs.

“Fuck.” He drawls, watching your quivering thighs as they get soaked. His grip on your wings tightens and his other hand presses on your back, angling your hips better for him and he plunges his cock inside you, your juices flying and smearing on his abdomen, sliding on the ridges of his stomach.

A distressed and overstimulated cry leaves you as the flames of eroticism lapped at your skin.

“Y/N—fuck!” Miguel slams his hips hard and stays there, the head pressed hard against your cervix, almost bruising it, and with a guttural groan, his cum spurts inside you. Filling spaces you didn’t know were still there, the rest of it spills out, copious amounts dripping down your thighs.

Miguel lets go of your wings and they lay floppily on the bed. He then reaches to rub your bulging belly, still feeling himself deep inside you and the astonishing load he deposited in your belly that formed a small pooch after he pulls out.

You are too exhausted to question when Miguel scoops you into his arms, carries you to the bathroom and sits you on top of a pristine clean toilet lid. You admire his frame as he fiddles with the shower.

He really has a really good anatomical structure, doesn’t he?

What a well-defined gluteus maximus.

Miguel wordlessly scoops you in his arms again, pausing only as he double takes to see if that was really his spent on top of the lid. Something warm trickles on his abdomen and he glances between your legs and that answers his question.

Your feet soon meet the damp bathroom floor and warm water showers on your skin. Miguel joins you and upon instinct, you lean back on him.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks softly as he guides you so you are facing him.

“I did.” You stand on your tippy toes and even then, it was not enough as he had to lean down so you could rest your arms on his shoulders. “Thank you, Miguel. Not just for the mind-blowing sex but for taking care of me.”

He chuckles at your words and you can’t help but admire the laugh lines that surround his eyes. “It’s nothing. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

“I appreciate it.” You peck his lips and you turn away from him to grab the shampoo bottle. “But let’s skip the bedroom activities for now. I have listed things I’ve been wanting to try.”

He helps lather the shampoo in your hair, giving you a massage while doing so. “Wouldn’t really need the bedroom as I could just bend you over wherever but what else do you want to do?”

The excited hum you gave almost made him regret asking. You were waiting for him to ask, goddammit!

“I wanna go wine tasting in a vineyard.” Huh, that doesn’t sound so bad. “And get drunk.”

“Ay, por Dios!”

Project: Galatea • Project: Pandora • Project: Eros

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spider verse #atsv

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materialsscienceandengineering · 6 months

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Construction of dual heterogeneous interface between zigzag-like Mo-MXene nanofibers and small CoNi@NC nanoparticles

Two-dimensional transition metal carbides (MXene) possess attractive conductivity and abundant surface functional groups, providing immense potential in the field of electromagnetic wave (EMW) absorption. However, high conductivity and spontaneous aggregation of MXene suffer from limited EMW response. Inspired by dielectric–magnetic synergy effect, the strategy of decorating MXene with magnetic elements is expected to solve this challenge. Recently, Professor Xiaojun Zeng of Jingdezhen Ceramic University and Professor Bingbing Fan of Zhengzhou University collaborated on the development of a Mo-MXene/CoNi-NC double heterogeneous interface material composed of zigzag-like Mo-MXene nanofibers and CoNi@NC nanoparticles.

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mindblowingscience · 1 year

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In efforts to tackle the leading cause of blindness in developed countries, researchers have recruited nanotechnology to help regrow retinal cells. Macular degeneration is a form of central vision loss, which has massive social, mobility, and mental consequences. It impacts hundreds of millions of people globally and is increasing in prevalence. The degeneration is the consequence of damaged retinal pigment cells. Our bodies are unable to grow and replace these cells once they start dying, so scientists have been exploring alternative methods to replace them and the membrane within which they sit. "In the past, scientists would grow cells on a flat surface, which is not biologically relevant," explains Anglia Ruskin University biochemist Barbara Pierscionek. "Using these new techniques the cell line has been shown to thrive in the 3D environment provided by the scaffolds." Nottingham Trent University biomedical scientist Biola Egbowon and colleagues fabricated these 3D scaffolds with polymer nanofibers and coated them with a steroid to reduce inflammation. Using a technique called electrospinning, which produces nanometer-wide fibers by squirting a molten polymer through a high-voltage field, the team was able to keep the scaffold sufficiently thin.

#science #stem #medicine #health #biotechnology #nanotechnology #vision

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kairiscorner · 1 year

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(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

since you silly little pooks are down bad little gremlins,

make sure to look him in the eye when he's talking to you.

summary: you made a grave mistake, directly disobeying orders from the big man himself, miguel o'hara, and endangering him and the rest of your team on a mission. thank goodness it was just his suit that suffered the damage, but you and him have a lot to talk about. alone. you know, if you wanted to be a little brat... you should just tell him straight up, but you can't even look at him right now. it's very disrespectful not to look at someone in the eye when they're talking to you, y'know?

word count: 2,541

warnings: slight degredation (nothing too bad, just a lot of reminding you about what you did was stupid), mentions of scars and wounds, slight cursing, and bad spanish translation (please correct me if i'm wrong!)

"tú… vas a ser mi muerte." he said in a low voice, a complete octave lower than the voice he used to scream orders at you to fall back, not to head straight first for the villain; but of course, spiders your type were never one to listen.

an annoying little maggot, that was miguel's assessment of you since the very minute you set foot in this facility. every mission that ever went south was due to you and your hubris, your incompetence, your need to flaunt your bravado in combat. you were lucky he put off kicking you out and cutting off all your connection to everyone at HQ, because you were a hair's length away from overstepping the very boundary of staying in this elite force of spider people to finding yourself disgraced from them.

you always gloated your strength, how many villains you took down in your universe, and were loud and rowdy. trying to break into your place in the spider society, you felt, was one of the easiest things to do. just make friends, punch the bad guys, and then the rest comes easy. but the reality of it was far from what you imagined, it was... seriously not what you imagined.

"i couldn't understand a single thought that entered that head of yours as we were fighting." miguel scolded you in a strained voice as he was being patched up by his machinery. the side of his face was bloodied, it would leave scars, but none that noticeable. his knitted eyebrows and piercing brown turning red eyes were fixated upon you and your hunched over, insecure, shrinking figure as you felt him diminish every ounce of your self-confidence bit by bit.

he sighed in exhaustion as he flinched at the treatment of his machineries, shaking his head slowly as he massaged his temples slowly, wishing that the frustration you gave him from your pathetic stunt would just disappear. but the pain never eased, instead, it merely intensified; he grunted as the machineries patched him up, the nanofibers of his suit dissipated as you watched splotches of his bronze, tanned skin emerge from the once dark blue and red patches of his suit.

you couldn't help but watch as the suit glitched slightly as it went away, disappearing into nothingness as his flesh wounds were being patched up. "tan jodidamente estúpida. so... so fucking stupid." he muttered out as he released a string of grunts from his soft, caramel lips as lyla adjusted the settings of the machinery as they patched him up.

"do you not value your own life?" he asked out with a low voice, as if he didn't care what answer escaped the confines of your lips, whatever words formed out of your mouth, as long as you spoke, he'd find something, anything, to retort to your argument--to prove you did a stupid, stupid thing. and that you were so stupid for not listening to him.

you opened your mouth slightly ajar to speak, to utter even a single word; to release a single sound from your vocal cords... but nothing. your throat as dry as an abandoned well, as dry as a vast, sandy desert, as an unirrigated field that once bore fresh crops.

you had nothing when he peered at you from above like this, glowering over you and penetrating your once keen and eager to fool around facade, whittling you down to nothingness.

"what? not gonna say anything?" he asked, his voice a little louder and more composed now as the healing process began and mended at the worn and torn muscles on his beautifully sculpted figure. he slowly stood up, his legs quaking slightly as he tried to carry himself up. he lost his balance for a few seconds and clung on to his desk to support himself. his breathing was labored, his nostrils were flared; he was pained and furious.

you felt a shiver crawl up your spine as he turned to face you, a good portion of the mesh fabric on the left side of his body was completely dissipated, the cuts inflicted on the suit turned white and glitched out, spasming, distorting the image on his body. miguel noticed you were staring and tried to hide the limping of his leg as he strut over to you, his left leg being pushed off the ground faster than his right.

you felt a wave of shame engulf you, reminding you that this very man almost sacrificed himself to save you while you seemed like a very cute spider to skin for the villain you faced off not long ago, who you provoked and brought your team to their attention, endangering all of you. he fought them off as best as he could, but he was continually on the receiving end of the blows and punches the villain reserved for the rogue little spider that weaved a web too obvious for its prey to fly into.

you didn't listen to miguel when he told you to--

"i told you to stay put," he admonished you in an irrefutably strained voice that he tried his hardest to mask with anger, or irritation. he didn't like to be looked upon as weak, as pitiful, and he sure as hell wasn't going to show that side of him to you of all people. never, in a million years, ever.

he grabbed your cheeks as he noticed your downcasted gaze and angled your face up to gaze into his now red eyes. "weren't you ever taught to look people in the eye when they're talking to you?" he questioned you for your seemingly rude demeanor as he tightened his grip on your cheeks, insinuating that he was quite irked with how, not only did you risk his and everyone else's lives on your team, but you dare disrespect him in his own office while he was already limping--suffering the repercussions of your own hasty decisions.

miguel breathed in deeply, his chest expanding as he took in that deep breath. he shut his eyes to collect himself so as not to let his frustration explode all over you right then and there. he was ready to burst at you, burst at you and let you feel everything he's been holding in from you for the longest time. it drives him mad knowing he's let you provoke him all you want, all the time. he wants to get his control over brats like you back, and if it has to be through this way... so be it.

he squeezed your cheeks, his grip tightening with every breath you took, moving your eyes so as not to look at him, so as not to be so frightened of him. "you're a damn brat, you know that?" he whispered as he moved his face closer to yours, his suit dissipating bit by bit the closer to you he got. he didn't seem like he had any intention of moving back, he was just keen on looking at you right in the eye and forcing you to look back at him, to acknowledge him and respect him for once.

"i-i know," you stutter out, swallowing the lump in your throat. your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the pad of his thumb brush over your cheek and let out a ragged breath, which felt hot on your face. "go on." miguel commanded you as he let go, pulling away from you.

you hesitated for a moment as miguel stepped back, his wide back now facing yours. a small triangular view of his bronze hued skin, and you noticed... he had an assortment of freckles dotting his back, down to the back of his forearm.

he looked absolutely breathtaking, even clad in the mesh fabric suit, even with the mask sheathing his angular face from the world; he was a sight to behold. you hated yourself so much for admiring him when all he can think of was the stupid stunt you pulled trying to show off.

miguel's head turned around yet again to catch you peeking at the flesh showing from the tears on the suit. he scowled. "i told you to keep talking, not to keep gawking." he reprimanded you as he turned his head back around and shook his head, muttering yet another curse word in spanish.

you cleared your throat, trying to collect your thoughts. "i know, i'm... a brat, and i'm sorry i endangered you all." you spoke in two breaths, hoping to get the heart of your thoughts across, trying to hold back from him the fear you had of him at that very moment. honestly, you were always scared of miguel, always afraid that if you pushed him off the edge... it wouldn't be him who'd fall. he'd hold on to your mistake and pull you down in his place.

that was your biggest fear; the fear of him hurting you, forgetting you, abandoning you and starting from scratch with a new recruit, a better recruit. one who didn't talk smack all the time behind his back, one who followed protocols and didn't steal equipment for joyrides to other earths, one who didn't travel to other earths to screw around--one who followed orders and didn't do things their own way, which would jeopardize not only themselves, but the rest of the elite members of the multiverse's sole defenders.

someone who would listen to him and look at him in the eye when he spoke.

"be honest," he began as lyla fixed up the glitchy parts of his suit as he pinched the bridge of his nose with shut eyes and a hung head, his eyebrows furrowing in the middle as he tried to keep himself composed, "do you think you know what you're doing here?" he asked in a deep, contemplative voice as the suit glitched out even more, despite the ai's best efforts to fix it, the glitching worsened.

"oh, genial." miguel uttered as he sighed again. the villain must've been a real wise guy to know how to mess with such hard to break nanotechnology and mesh fabric that not even miguel himself could pierce or cut through. "ok, uh, not to interrupt your sermon, but you need to take it off. completely." lyla said as she ran a diagnostics protocol on the suit to check what was salvageable on it.

miguel stared at the ai incredulously. "no, keep it on, it's fine." he muttered as he turned to face you, his right pectoral muscle showing just the slightest bit. his suit phasing in and out of functionality as he placed his hands on his waist, staring at you as you abruptly looked away. he raised an eyebrow and eyed you up and down. "why so shy now? you were running your big mouth earlier in combat, why stop now?"

you tried to speak again, but all that came out were unintelligible mumble with the words, "seeing you like this" being repeated over and over and over again. miguel sighed and sauntered over to you and grabbed your cheeks again, this time, more roughly.

"i've had it up to here with your shitty attitude towards me." he said as his eyes narrowed at you, his eyebrows nearly forming into one angry, furry unibrow as he tried to maintain eye contact with you. your eyes wandered down past his neck, to his now semi-exposed collarbone, all the way to his rib area; his right rib's flesh being exposed now as the suit dissipated after continually glitching.

"why are you so insistent upon staring at the absolute wreck my suit is now because of your actions?" he huffed as he angled your face up to look at him, leaning closer and closer towards you as you were now inches away from his face. he snarled for a split second, and you watched as his fangs were bared for that small moment.

"you... need to be taught proper manners." he scolded you as his nose brushed over yours, causing you to shudder; the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as miguel fixated his now glowing, scarlet eyes upon your own. "listen to me, very. carefully." he said as his claws slowly dug into the flesh of your cheeks, grazing you slightly as he brushed the pads of his fingers upon your cheeks and chin.

"you better remember to... look at me when i'm talking to you, understand?" he emphasized as he spoke in a low, low voice, the rest of his suit vanishing as the glitching worsened, his left pectoral muscle now revealing itself, down to his abdominal area, where you noticed his sculptured muscles and scars from the fights. the newly emerged wounds from the battle you botched remained on his skin's surface, noticeable still due to having been fresh a few minutes ago.

he scoffed as he noticed your breathing became labored. he let you go when you mewled at his claws digging deeper into the fat of your cheeks. "i'm... sorry." you uttered as you finally looked up at him. he clicked his tongue as he let you go. "you're lucky i'm too weak to do anything to you right now." he said in a calmer manner as you rubbed over where he grazed upon you.

he turned his head to look at you from over his shoulder and his expression softened the tiniest bit when he watched tears well up in your eyes.

"...i'm sorry, too." he murmured as he finally took off the suit and sat back in his chair, in dark navy shorts.

your eyes wandered down to his toned, tanned calves and thighs, how every bit of him seemed so detailed and sculpted; as if he was exerting force and effort upon every muscle in everything he did. "you have a tendency to run your mouth off and not look before you leap when you're feeling hella cocky, but when you're cornered... you shut up immediately and start staring like a hawk." he pointed out, rather sarcastically.

he stretched his leg a little, wincing at the pain. his grunts were guttural as you noticed the slight limp in how the leg was resting. you got up and looked at his poor leg. "what, staring at me at a distance half-naked isn't enough for you?" he asked, deadpanned.

"i could, um... try easing the pain for you." you offered as you meekly pointed to his leg. he threw his head back and sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling as he did. he looked at you lazily and raised an eyebrow. "is that to make up for all the headaches and migraines you give me?" he asked.

you nodded profusely and he planted his face in his palm, chuckling a little to himself. he looked up at you, gradually, and a small smirk curved upon his lips. he shrugged. "alright, work your magic." he said as he leaned back. "if you fuck me over again, i will kick you out, though." he warned, to which you grinned at.

maybe... you'd keep being a little brat to him, if it meant you could see him this way, and... touch him this way.

a/n: ok so if we do hit 400 likes, i'll make a part 2 + whimpering miggy :>

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @fictarian @pixqlsin @thecoolerdor

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv spiderman #miguel spiderman #CURLING MY TOES KICKING MY FEET TWIRLING MY HAIR BATTING MY EYELASHES GIGGLING TEEHEE

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vaguegrant · 10 months

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Hey, so what if we had a more sustainable transparent material stronger than carbon nanofibers?

One of the most interesting articles I'll read this week, I suspect. Lots of details about the process, as well as more recent incremental improvements to producing this in a greener and more scalable way.

#materials science #transparent wood #science news #climate science

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ilydeku · 2 years

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pretty right feeling, pity wrong time | senku x reader

Pieces of leather were scattered throughout the camp grounds before them, all scribbled with advanced models and designs of the such. The air was filled with sneers and gleefulness as you and Senku continued scrawling together. Chrome, Gen, and the rest were awestricken by how excited you both looked. It wasn't often that they get to see you guys express genuine emotions of joy. After all, you two have been working hard to build the kingdom of science.

"A wind turbine, y/n!? Haha..so exhilarating!"

"Yeah! But we'd need lots of iron and carbon compounds to make steel...and generators...and electric motors..." You sighed, realizing that a wind turbine required much more than what you held. "...oh well."

"Hey, it's not impossible though. We're getting closer and closer to reaching those eras, so don't gloom on it-"

"Haha, are you serious? As if I'd give up after one concept." You took one of his and your leather drawings and set them on the ground together. "Here!" Senku scooted closer to where you were sitting to get a closer look at your observations. "I see you've drawn out these bluff bullets and lead spheres." You look at him for his reaction and back to the models.

"Yeah...That's a diagram of a catapult you made, isn't it..." A snarky grin grows on his face as your idea came to surface.

"If we built my catapult..."

"And created multiples of my lead spheres..."

"Combining the two, we'd be practically making...-"

"A CANNON!" You both exclaimed in unison, followed by maniacal retorts against Tsukasa's empire. It was amusing how much you two got along. Well of course you did; you were both science freaks after all. Watching the playfulness and tease between you and Senku was like watching children play. Gen had already taken notice of the likeness and relation even before this moment: the cooperation, solitary partnered tasks, and assistance, but this much liveliness between you and Senku made him believe his hunch could be even more valid. He crossed his arms and smirked before opening his big mouth.

"Ooh Senku-chan, y/n-chan! You two really seem to get along with each other, don't youuu~" His hands cupped his face as he swayed around all lovey-like. Your head turned around toward Gen's direction, unamused by his behavior.

"Uhuh. Yes we do," you blankly replied, turning your attention back to Senku who was scribbling a new page of your combined structures, too lost in his little science world to have his focus drawn away. He was hunched on his knees over the piece of leather, one arm to support himself while the other scribbled away. You kneeled just a few inches from him, close enough to see what he was doing. "Anyways, Senku, if the wood isn't strong enough to support the spheres, a possible solution would be to create densified wood." He paused for a moment, hovering his graphite over the leather. Densified wood? Think Senku...what was formula again?

"...Ahh, you mean the process of boiling wood in a mix of sodium hydroxide and sodium sulfite?"

"Mhm. It'll take out some parts of lignin and hemicellulose. After boiling the wood, we'll use heating compression which will strip out some polymers for the new wood to reform and... well I'm pretty sure you know how the rest works out."

"Of course, resulting in the collapse of cell walls and the complete densification of the natural wood with highly aligned cellulose nanofibers." Senku rested the piece of graphite on the ground as the sketch of the model came to completion. He sighed, just before a soft chuckle, and looked up at you. A genuine, confident smile came upon his face, complimenting his features.

"Heh. You're pretty smart, you know that?" Specks of warm rose tainted your cheeks. It was merely a compliment, but still. Compliments coming from Senku were pretty rare, considering the fact that well... he's him.

"Pfft," you chuckled, sharing the given smile. "You just noticed?"

Gen frowned as you two interacted with each other. He was being ignored. Oh well. "Oh Senku-chan, y/n-chan! You sure do have quite the chemistry going on between you two! You know I have a great idea for you guys! Why don't you become a happy little couple!? And then you two could get married, become one, and create-"

"Nope."

"Absolutely not."

"Not in ten billion years." You and Senku stopped to give Gen poker-faced looks. An aura of coldness and grimace radiated from the both of you towards him, immediately putting his mouth on hold.

"..."

"Hey, Senku, you know Gen is right!" Chrome piped, skipping over, crouching down to Senku, and knocking him over with a mere jab of his elbow.

"Shut up, Chrome. You almost stepped on all our models," Senku frowned, pushing Chrome off to crawl and collect the scattered pieces of leather. "We're busy right now. Go be an idiot elsewhere."

"Senku, you like y/n? Haha, oh man! I didn't think you'd ever be interested in a girl, Senku!" Ginro shouted from his post. Interested in the overheard speculation, he raced over and joined Chrome in his playful tease. You couldn't help but laugh at the situation. Senku sat cross-armed with both Ginro and Chrome spitting flirty nonsense at him. It was funny how Senku's face remained neutral, denial after denial of any fascinations towards you.

But deep down, his heart was endeared with nothing but adoration for you.

He's tried to push these silly feelings away, but it was useless. Love was never his thing and was never something he intended on getting distracted by. He fully believed that science was the only love he'd ever need, but with you, it was just something so different, so interesting. His love for you would only waver within.

You reciprocated the same feelings. The inclination profound beneath that scientific onlook of yours. Between you two, that love you shared was as clear as day, an affectionate pact of silence. He could see it in your eyes. You could see in his eyes, yet the sense had never been spoken of. There was absolutely no time to spare for romance. You two knew that. An unspoken rule. That's why you both haven't said anything about your feelings because now wasn't the time. Not yet.

Senku's face softened as he turned to you, Chrome and Ginro continuing with their nonsense. He grinned. You grinned.

I know you know and you know I know. Wait just until after we build this world together. I promise I won't keep you waiting any longer than that, y/n.

just finished watching dr. stone, w anime, looking forward to s3

bro i haven't fallen this hard for a character since izuku midoriya, and that's been years 💀

<iheartsenku3

support me? :)

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catgirlredux · 5 months

Text

>Entryway_memo.17.89 /// Inner City, 55-5073 /// use viewSourceL() to access coordinates

I found one. I really didn’t expect to get this lucky this early on, but I guess the Doors were shining on me today.

I almost missed it; the whole thing was overgrown, and the active muffling was still on so even my pad couldn’t pick it up. I only managed to spot it because the moss and ivy covering its head morphed to the iconic crest: an Equites-class, first-gen rig.

This is big - most current HAKs, your Hoplites and your Lucids and whatnot, exhaust their power core stupidly fast. But the older ones, especially in generation 1, were super inefficient, so to avoid wasting too much leaking energy they implemented a system to recycle power back into the core. This wreck could have fought in the War of Rooms fifty years ago and it would still have plenty of juice left. I reckon I’ll easily get at least 6000 NC for it, if not more.

Tomorrow I’m going back to crack the damn thing open and extract the core.

>Entryway_memo.17.90 /// Inner City, 55-5073 /// use viewSourceL() to access coordinates

I don’t know where to start. Shit got weird. I went back to the wreck with my cutters and started to chop away at the cockpit, same as usual.

When I removed the glass, I saw the first sign that something was wrong. Usually when a HAK this old wrecks, the pilot has already ejected. Without one, the nanofilament bioharness inside the HAK chassis loses its structure and crumbles into powder. That didn’t happen with this one - instead, the fibers were still fully intact and wrapped around each other in a giant fucking gooey knot or something.

Well I mean, I had to get through the operators seat to get to the core, so I started cutting away at the harness. But as soon as my knife hit the nanofibers, the whole thing hardened up.

This is where it got really weird though. My knife couldn’t do jack shit to the harness so my next thought was to use my torch and burn through it. But as I was getting it from my pack, I heard a fucking voice!

“Are you… human?” it asked. It sounded weak and muffled, but I tell you I fucking jumped. There weren’t supposed to be any other scavengers in this quadrant but you never know, right?

The voice asked again, “Are you human?” So I responded, said yeah.

Then the harness loosened up, turned all goopy again, and a hole started to appear right in the middle facing me. It spread wider and wider until the ball of nanofilaments pulled all the way back, and you know what was inside?

A fucking body. Shit, what a sight. It was buried in nanofilaments from the chest down, but its arms and head were free - at least mostly; its hands were still dunked in the nanofiber goop that remained of its harness.

It wore a black catsuit - probably a neural interface - that clearly used to be skintight. However, it was so emaciated that its clothes hung off its shoulders. Its head, completely shaved and exposed, looked almost like a skull, and worst of all, it was lined with thin nanotendrils that crawled across its skin and seemed to pierce right into its cheeks, temples, and eyes. A series of lights in the cockpit around its head flickered, showing clear signs of age.

It didn’t open its mouth but I heard the voice again: “Did they… win?”

I stuttered back, “Win what? Who? You mean the War of Rooms? No, no we won that!”

“The War of Rooms…? Is that… what it’s called now…” The person - I guess it must have been the HAK’s operator - the person seemed happy with this response.

“W-wait, so you really are from the War? B-but that was over 50 years ago, how- how old are you?”

The operator’s head tilted to the side and the fibers along its forehead pulsed slightly before it responded.

“This unit’s organic component was created… 72 years ago. This unit’s… synthetic component was created 65 years ago.”

72 years ago… that means the damn thing was only 19 when the War ended?? But what’s more, how the hell did it survive for half a century in these ruins?

At least it seemed willing to answer my questions. I started my recorder at this point: following is a transcript of our conversation.

>Entryway_load(KS_0598.rsi)

///KS/// How are you alive - what do you eat?

///EOR/// This unit is… not alive. (unintelligible, closest match >> ****thetic) component supercedes the prior processes of this unit’s organic component.

///KS/// Wait, you keep describing yourself as the “organic component” - what do you mean by that?

///EOR/// This unit was once two. After this unit’s last mission, this unit was unable to move from this location. Time allowed this unit’s organic component and synthetic component to achieve what you call terminus, but what would be better described as unity. This unit’s biological and synthetic components merged, and as such this unit no longer adheres to the biological standard or requirements for organic life as it is currently defined.

///KS/// So you and the HAK are, what, conjoined? Like a Chambered One or something?

///EOR/// (unintelligible, closest match >> laughter?) The Chambered Ones were misguided. At another time this unit might have considered them evil. They believed they could achieve unity through religious mannerisms and compromises. Their “Chambers” are weak imitations of this unit and this unit’s brethren. It is good that they are destroyed.

///KS/// Well, um. They’re not actually destroyed. We signed a peace treaty - they’re members of the Vaulted Rooms now, at least the ones who want to be.

///EOR/// At another time this unit would have been incensed at this news. Now it seems irrelevant. This unit achieved terminus 37 years 7 months and 16 days ago. Since then, this unit has been content with itself.

///KS/// So… I’m guessing you don’t want me to report this wreck to the force?

///EOR/// This unit is no longer desired, nor does this unit desire to return. This unit requests that you do not speak of this unit.

///KS/// Okay okay, chill. I only found you because I thought I could salvage a power core or something.

///EOR/// This unit cannot provide its power core. However…

<Note: at this juncture the operator of the HAK pulled a hand free, grabbed its other arm, and proceeded to wrench it from its socket. There was no blood. A mass of nanofilaments quickly coated the stump.>

///KS/// WHAT THE FUCK?

///EOR/// If the black market still exists, this will sell for a substantial amount. Please take it and leave. And thank you for speaking with this unit.

///KS/// Wait, but I

///EOR/// Thank you for speaking with this unit. Now please, let this unit exist.

I left. I took the arm too. I don’t know what to do now…

#cheetah writing #mechposting #Heavily Armored Kinesosuits #still haven't come up with a name for this universe sorry #mech #empty spaces

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