#yandere miguel

[yanmaresu]

Yandere Miguel O'Hara x fem! self insert

MDNI // cw: implied future non-con, tying up, kidnapping, yandere, breeding kink.

Took me way more time than I had planned x'd but here's the guy! I also tried something new and made different versions of the drawing with the self-insert having different skin tones and hair. You can find them under the cut.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Creature Feature.

Yandere: Yandere!Miguel x Reader.

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Manipulation, Mentions of Non-Human Anatomy, Obsessive Behavior, and Rough Sex.

You weren’t sure when you decided the man living in your house and fathering your daughter was not your husband.

It might’ve been last week, when you caught him sitting in his unlit study hours after he’d promised he would come to bed, his eyes glowing vaguely red as he fiddled with a device you didn’t recognize with tools you’d never seen him use, before. It might’ve been two months ago, when Gabi’s teacher called you into a conference to discuss your daughter’s worrying new obsession with spiders and superheroes and the holographic women that, if what she’s been telling her classmates is to be believed, read her bedtime stories when her father wasn’t home. It might’ve been that first night – when he came home from work hours late and doting a black eye, missing the glasses you would never see him wear again and too shell-shocked to do anything more than stand in Gabi’s doorway and let you fuss over him. You’d done everything you should’ve, kissed his cheek and begged him to tell you what happened and pretended to believe him when he said there’d been an accident at the research facility, but it hadn’t felt right, hadn’t felt like it would’ve if you’d been taking care of the man you’d loved for most of your life.

And, when he snapped out of his daze long enough to drag you into his arms and pull you into a kiss more forceful than anything your Miguel would’ve been capable of, you couldn’t help but shudder, but draw back when his hands started to drift lower and he proved to share your husband’s instability, if only that. That was what made the final decision, really. He wasn’t your husband, but it wasn’t as if you couldn’t see a glimmer of something you recognized when you looked at him.

Or, it wasn’t as if you couldn’t normally see a glimmer of something you recognized.

Right now, you knew the man on top of you was a total stranger.

He wasn’t Miguel. He couldn’t have been. Miguel would never hold you so tightly, never dig his fingertips so deeply into your waist, never be so determined to keep you so suffocatingly close to him. His nails would never be so sharp – pointed claws piercing your skin, drawing blood that dripped down your sides and pooled on the sheets beneath you – and he’d never been so massive, either, bulging muscle lining his arms, his defined chest heaving with every ragged breath and strangled moan, both a far cry from the borderline malnourished lab-rat that was the love of your life. His face was malformed, misshapen; curved fangs poking past his parted lips, distorting the shape of his mouth and leaking drops of luminescent venom that fell onto your chest and coated everything they touched with the same numbing, buzzing static. Even his eyes – the eyes you’d always loved, the eyes you would’ve known if nothing else of your husband remained – were gone, drowned out by the shadows cast over his face, the darkness you couldn’t seem to shake when he was around. What little remained was tinted red and bloodshot, pushed miles past the point of remote familiarity. You’d let this stranger, this thing into your home. You’d let him drive your daughter to school, look after her when she was sick.

You hadn’t let him fuck you, but he was fucking you, and you hadn’t been able to stop him.

The sounds he was making were awful, too. Your husband had been adorably shy, prone to biting his tongue and repeating your name over and over and over again, as if the feeling of your cunt milking his cock made it impossible to remember anything else. This Miguel was, in comparison, couldn’t seem to stop making those terrible noises; throaty grunts and airy moans spilling past his lips, only partially muffled by your skin as he buried his face in the curve of your throat. One of his hands fell to your thighs, curling around it and forcing your knee against your chest, making it so he could force himself that much deeper into you, so he could thrust into you with that much more raw strength. You were glad Gabi was staying at a friend’s, tonight. Her room was next to yours, and you would’ve been surprised if there was an apartment in your building that couldn’t hear your headboard beating against the wall, couldn’t make out every pitchy rise and fall of the drawn-out whine choked out of some deep, vulnerable pocket in your chest as he buried those pointed fangs in the crook of your neck.

You felt him force something into you, your vision blurring as the blood seemed to smolder in your veins. Suddenly, the feeling of his pelvic bone catching on your clit was unbearable, your own slick now burning as it dripped down your thighs. It wasn’t a whine you let out, this time, but a sob – ragged and broken, hitched as it emerged from uncooperative lungs and further fractured by the way his chest pressed into yours as he straightened his back, as he drew back just far enough to smile down at you, to let those cruel eyes go soft and half-lidded. “Oh, mi amor…” You didn’t notice you were crying until his hand cupped your face, until his thumb swiped over your cheek and came away wet. “I could fall in love with you all over again.”

Your husband would never say that. Your husband would never imply that there ever could’ve been a world where he wasn’t in love with you, that there ever could’ve been a life he would’ve led that wouldn’t feature you at its center. Your husband would never grow fangs and claws and force himself on you with all the care and tenderness of a rampaging monster. Your husband—

Your husband wasn’t here.

Your husband wasn’t here, and it didn’t seem like he’d ever be coming back.

You curled into yourself, sobbing unabashedly. Miguel (or, whatever the creature on top of you called himself) welcomed your devastation with open arms, leaning back and pulling you onto his lap, bouncing you on his cock as a low, reverberating purr sparked in the base of his throat and filled what little empty space was left in your bedroom. He watched on as you scrambled to wrap your arms around his neck, letting out a breathy laugh as he nuzzled into the dip of your shoulder and went on. “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned, his cock practically throbbing against the walls of your cunt. “I don’t know how I got by without you. I’m never—” A fractured moan, the tips of pointed teeth ghosting over your jugular. “I’m never letting you leave my side again.”

It was a promise, a threat, spoken with enough dedication to send a cold shudder up the length of your spine. You only realized your mouth had fallen open when you heard your own voice, distant and distraught. “Who... who are you?”

Some part of you expected him to devolve, for what was left of his disguise to fall away and reveal rows upon rows of jagged teeth that would tear into your skin, countless eyes that would stare you down like some trapped insect, half a dozen more arms and hands he could use to grab and grope and pull and maim. You expected blood to spill by the bucketful, flesh to melt away like candlewax, rough edges and broken anatomy and all the terrible monstrosities that had to be lingering inside of a creature like him. You expected all the worst things you could possibly imagine, but in the end, what you got was so, so much worse.

His manic grin melted into a softened smile. He pressed another open-mouthed kiss into your throat before pulling away, staring down at you with more love than anything human could’ve spared. “I’m your husband.” And then, again, as he settled so deeply inside of you, you could only pray you’d be able to forget the feeling of him, one day.

“I’m yours.”

[married-to-google-translater]

Yandere Miguel O`hara with pregnant reader

Miguel would be really overprotective during your pregnancy.

And he would be overprotective anyway…

But now he's 100 times more overprotective.

Miguel has already lost one child.

And he's definitely not going to lose another one.

Most likely, during your pregnancy, you won't even be able to leave the apartment you two share.

And if you don't… well he has a whole spider society to keep you safe.

You probably have Stockholm syndrome during this time.

If you don't have one, I'm sure you'll get one.

Miguel would be surprisingly soft during your pregnancy.

He would like to be around you a lot.

Miguel also makes sure you get everything you need.

He wants to ensure the birth of his baby.

Miguel would also give more physical affection.

Surely he would give you a lot of massage and stroke your belly.

Miguel would also not give punishments during your pregnancy.

Of course he would be mad if you broke the rules.

But Miguel would try his best to remain calm… K

eyword would try

[fortheloveofleon]

So, what if reader as spider person do smth WRONG like bad wrong, miguel got pissed (an understatement) and they run from miguel, they manage to hide from miguel for a good while but miguel eventually catch them, some fight happens and miguel has had enough he broke some bones and made sure the other spider person also couldn't do anything (the venom thing). The rest is up to you!

WICKED GAMES

⊱ Pairing: Yandere!Miguel x Spider!Reader

⊱ Summary: You decided to test Miguel’s limits and took something that didn’t belong to you. So, what’s the obvious response when the most terrifying Spiderman finds out? You hide. Unfortunately for you, Miguel enjoys the “seek” part a bit too much.

⊱ Contents: 18+, Yandere!Miguel, Dark Content, Scary? Content, Jealousy, Dub-Con, Non-Con, Dom!Miguel, Hate-Fucking, Face Slapping, Orgasm (M+F), Primal Kink, Biting, Creampie, Choking, Man-Handling, Hair Pulling.

Heavy footsteps fall to the concrete with each stride you take, lunging forward in a panicked haste. Soft breaths tremble in your lungs. The tightness in your chest grows and grows as you head further through streets.

Iridescent lights flicker above your head, and the smell of metal is making your eyes glass over. Even whilst slinking through these dingy streets and crooked alleys, you still haven’t entirely made out where you actually are.

And it’s all your fault.

Is it that bad you wanted to be treated like an adult?

You’re a grown woman. A Spider.

But Miguel refused to see you as such, always keeping an eye on you “just in case.”

You were sick of feeling like glass, and you were determined to prove yourself, so you made a wrong decision that just felt so right at the time;

You stole a portal watch from his lab.

Your naïve belief of thinking Miguel wouldn’t find out only made matters worse, and made him fucking livid when he did.

Thanks to a tip from Hobie back at Headquarters, you’ve managed to get a head start. So here you are, jumping from universe to universe, world to world, trying to escape the consequences.

After what seems like hours of running, you’ve arrived in some sort of warehouse, dead and silent. Dripping pipes and crunching glass are the only sounds accompanying your heaving breaths.

But just when you thought you’re safe, a sudden whirring noise rings through the air, echoing around you.

There’s a hovering gash, pulsing and glowing, omitting a flurry of blue particles. A burst of sparks, red and orange, rip open this cosmic, hexagonal wound to reveal a vacuum of time and space.

You make out a burly shape slipping out of it.

The portal leaves as quickly as it came, disappearing in a flash of light. A masked figure stands on the deserted warehouse floor, unmoving.

Using your webs, you pull yourself up to the beams of the roof, hiding and looking down.

You already know who it is.

Pulling the navy mask from his face, wavy hair ruffled and eyes dark, Miguel looks around the seemingly vacant room — you’re nowhere to be seen.

“I know you’re in here,” he drawls out, voice heavy. “It’ll be a lot quicker for me, and easier on you, if you just come out now.”

You say nothing, waiting with bated breath.

So does he.

He clicks his tongue, eyes rolling in irritation.

“Fucking…fine!” the brunette tuts, teeth gnashing together, chest heaving as he sighs. “You want to play a little hide-and-seek? Be my guest.”

Right now, you’re barely paying attention to his rambling; your gaze remains locked on a chance of escape.

Embedded in a wall across the room, is a vent.

You might get to it. If you’re quick enough.

Doing your best to stay quiet, perched on the balls on your feet, you slink across the metal beam, using only the webs of your palms to move with haste.

Shuddery breaths slip through your lips as you pull yourself closer to freedom.

“Oh, I forgot to mention one thing,” Miguel‘s voice echoes out from somewhere down below.

But, stupidly, you pause.

You take the chance to peek down, and the sight makes your heart fall — Miguel is stood by a light switch, one sharp finger resting against the button.

He’s looking straight at you, eyes crinkled in a humourless smile.

“We’re playing by my rules.”

And suddenly, the room flickers into a sea of black.

You manage to bury your scream somewhere between your chest and throat. One hand remains slapped over your mouth, tears pouring silently. You cling to the rafter, pressing your whole body down, swallowing wordless pleas.

Cold metal grunts beneath your nails. The sounds of creaking and shuffling echo around you, calling out in the dark.

Then, it’s eerily silent.

Hallowed breaths shake from your ribs. Your throat burns, and you blink rapidly, trying to find some sense of direction in this surrounding inky abyss.

But it’s no use; you need to get out here now.

You muster up the courage to drop to the floor, perching on the balls of your feet. Droplets of water splash around you, and force back a squeal, fists clenched, adrenaline rushing.

You swivel around, waiting for the reach of a clawed hand.

Still, nothing.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel’s fighting back to urge to pounce on you right now, forcing his hand away from his crotch. But the look of pure anguish on your face has his cock harder than ever.

You’re pivoting on your feet every second, trying to make out where he can be.

It’s like he’s everywhere.

“Y’know, I had to force LYLA to show me your location on the Quantum Map?” his voice travels.

Gasping, you turn, swinging at the dark. White, hot thrill pulses through veins, pulsing through your body, tempting you with a high you can’t find anywhere else.

“Threatened to dismantle her software,” Miguel chuckles. You can hear the smirk in his tone. “It was funny, you should’ve heard her beg.”

“See?” you breathe out, head swivelling. “Even your personal AI knows you’re a fucking psycho,”

“That’s a pretty ballsy thing to say for someone who’s scared of me,” the dark calls out. The sound of deep laughter chimes around.

You swallow hard, blinking — it’s not a secret.

You are scared of him.

A majority of people, in the Spider Society or not, are scared of Miguel. He’s used to the looks of agitation, the fleeting glances, the scurrying.

But for some reason, he takes great pride knowing he can make you twitch.

“Do I scare you?” he whispers, humming your name. He sounds so close, words brushing your ear.

Behind you, a heavy claw reaches out of the dark, running gently up your spine — a warning.

The movement has you rushing forward, scrambling away, hiccuping out a scream.

You start to run, panicked.

Where to, you don’t know, but you’re running, fast and blindly.

Shoes hitting the floor with each step, you stumble and drag yourself forward, staggering through this maze of black, feeling the walls for any sign of exit.

Miguel follows your movements, waiting for his moment to strike, hard and true.

He watches the way you pull the mask from your face, breathing heavily in frustration, nimble hands tugging at the bolted doors and windows.

He smiles, seeing the panic settle in on your features when you realise you’ve run out of web fluid, leaving you stranded on this warehouse floor.

Suddenly, he hears nails scratching the concrete. He watches on as you grope the floor blindly, feeling out for something.

“No,” you whisper to yourself. “S-shit, fucking shit!”

Then, it clicks. Finally, the last domino has fallen.

Miguel grins in the shadows, eyes resting on the puddle by his feet. A soft glow shimmers against the water, revealing something digital and sunken.

You’ve dropped your portal watch.

How could you have lost it? It was just on your wrist. How could have been so careless, so stupid? Now, you’re trapped.

No longer relying on your silence, you begin to kick hard at the chained doors, grunting and groaning as the iron jangles.

Right now, you don’t have the time to fucking critique yourself, you need to leave.

“Fucking. Open!” you breathe out, booting at the metal. The head of the lock begins to bend, the doors shaking under the weight of your blow.

But just as hope begins to beam, a sudden crackling thud booms above you.

You turn.

The end of the warehouse is flooded in light, fluorescents humming. As you peer down, a tall figure crouches, and stands, facing you.

Miguel’s grinning hard, fangs and claws on show.

Your stare, eyes wide, and begin to kick harder at the door.

Bang.

The second light follows, illuminating the ground with a musky yellow. That figure in the distance grows closer and closer.

You can hear his feet pounding against the floor.

Bang.

Just as the third light shines down, the door shatters out, and a scream crawls up from your throat.

Miguel lunges at you, fangs bared, tackling you to the ground.

Heavy hands wrap around your throat, crumpling your shrieks to mere cries as the pair of you topple.

You’re cursing, kicking, flailing as much as you could, pummelling at his chest, arms, anything you can reach.

The larger man has settled himself between your legs, pinning you to the floor.

“C’mon, tú zorra, keep hitting me,” he grunts, goading you with a grin. “Fucking see what happens.”

In the tussle, you manage to punch him hard in his ribs, releasing an audible crack.

Miguel sucks in a breath, cold through the teeth as his brows . His jaw is set, tense and square. Rich brown eyes growing ever darker.

Before you can even think, a fist locked in the tresses of your hair, yanking hard. Pain burns at your scalp as Miguel tugs your head to the side, exposing the flesh of your neck.

A flash of teeth, a shining wink of a blood-tinged fang. Then he bites down.

Hard.

The world blurs for a quick second.

You feel flesh tear, and the smell of hot, wet metal fills the air. Miguel is almost growling against you. Canines shift beneath your skin.

Something, warm and sticky, is dripping down your neck. The room feels so clammy all of a sudden.

Vision softening, everything is a wave of colours and sounds. You can barely slur out your confusion as Miguel’s hands run along the shape of you, ghosting your clothed cunt.

“Y’wanna act like a bitch, huh?” Miguel hisses — you feel fabric tearing, pulling against your skin. Goosebumps decorate your body as you lay half naked on the ground.

“Looks like I’ve gotta remind who fucking owns you.”

Two fingers push against your mouth, and you’re too weak to fight against them. Saliva escapes from the corners of your lips and covers your chin as Miguel’s digits press against your tongue.

He tastes like blood and salt.

Your eyes flutter shut as you moan around his fingers, blinking out tears.

“You pathetic little slut,” Miguel’s huffing out a laugh, grasping your face, thrusting his middle and forefinger back and forth, grinning as you choke.

Miguel feels your fingers careening against the stiff muscle of his forearm creeping along his shoulders to find home in his hair, ready to pull again.

He jolts, moving quick to pin them against the floor with one heavy hand— despite the Rapture flowing through your bloodstream right now, he wasn’t dumb to let you even attempt to get a hold on him.

He tears his fingers from your mouth, slamming his lips to yours, tongue pushing past your teeth.

You couldn’t even find the strength to fight back right now — all you can feel is him. His body on you, hands groping, his mouth melding against yours.

Miguel finds your futile efforts quite cute. But your struggling isn’t helping you at all, and it’s only turning him on.

He’s grinning against your skin, pressing soft kisses against your jaw, down your neck. The sudden switch has you tense, wary, like a deer in headlights.

“Turn over.” The sentence wasn’t a request, but a demand.

One that he wasn’t patient enough to wait for.

Within a second, he’s got you flipped over, face pressed against the cold flood, arms pinned behind your back. Your bare ass sticks up in the air, and Miguel strikes the skin hard.

Choked pleas fall from your lips, but that doesn’t stop him. One, two, three more times you feel the roughness of his palms against your ass.

Your skin is singing in pain, every nerve set aflame at each swat.

“Ngh, God! I’m sorry! ” you squeal out, “I’m sorry!”

Miguel’s jaw is set once more, eyes steely as he stares straight at your glistening cunt.

“Oh, you’re sorry?” he breathes out, each word dripping in ridicule. A rough finger presses against the hot wetness building between your legs, sticky and sweet.

“No, you’re not. Not yet.”

A loud cry escapes you as Miguel plunges his cock, swollen and hard, deep in the sweltering heat of your cunt. Sharp pain throbs within you for a brief second, pulsing between your leg.

Fangs bared, Miguel groans at your grip. “Fucking hell.”

Tears drip down your face, darkening the concrete as each drop falls with every surge of his hips, the fat of your behind smashing against his abdomen.

“Oh, my G-God,” you stutter out sacrilege, nails biting in your palms. “Fuck, Miguel.”

As much as you want to hate this, hate him, you can’t control how your body feels. Your hips appear to have a mind of their own, pushing back in his grip. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each move, walls hugging his length with a tightness he’s never felt before.

There’s a sweltering mix of pain and pleasure, sweetness and salt, swirling inside of you as he’s hitting every goddam spot. Right now, you’re in limbo, on edge, just waiting for that one moment to push you into bliss.

And Miguel knows it. He can feel it. Smell it. Taste it, practically.

Yet, he’s seething.

How dare you enjoy yourself after making go to all this trouble? How do you have the fucking gall to find joy in this?

Heavy grunts escaping through his gritted teeth as his stray hand releases abandon your clasped wrists, only to grip at the back of your neck and push your face further into the ground.

“Dumb. Little. Slut,” he spits, emphasising on each word with a further thrust of his cock, drilling faster, harder, in the hot, wet mess of your cunt. “‘Course y’fuckin’ enjoying this. Never known a girl more hungry f’dick than you.”

You could only hiccup out small pleas as the taller man berates you with scorching insults, accompanied with a mocking laugh that melts into a moan.

Miguel wants to last longer - truly, he does. Nothing is more a sight for sore eyes than the pleading, whimpering mess you are.

But the sounds you’re making and the feeling of your walls tightening in on him, pulls him closer and closer to release quick than he intends.

He can’t help himself.

“Take it, hah, you…fuck…mi corazón.”

You whimper, eyes slinking shut as you breathe out a choked, “A-anything for you.”

With those last three brazen words, Miguel gives one final thrust, leaning over you to bite down on the curve of your neck as he comes — you’re both seeing stars.

It feels like you’re melting, from the inside out.

You can barely comprehend anything but these ebbing waves of sweet pleasure humming from between your twitching legs as you come, your plumped lips caught between your teeth so hard, you can taste blood.

Miguel’s rolling his hips in time with yours, panting, whimpering in your ear as he rides out this high for as long as he can, whispering sweet nothings and broken promises against your body.

You can feel this white mess sticking to your thighs, smeared against your abdomen, dripping with small plinks onto the cold concrete.

Miguel presses open-mouthed kisses down your back, running his tongue over the indents his fangs left in your skin.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet.” A hand returns to the nape of your neck, clutching at your hair.

A familiar wave of dread washes over you.

“Just wait till we get back to the lab.”

[huicitawrites]

The Hunt

Yandere! Miguel O' Hara x Fem! Spider! Reader

T/W: yandere (slow-burn(?)), dark fic, violence, assault, spoilers for across the spiderverse.

Status: rewritten.

Next Chapter

Word Count: 2,4k

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

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

Part I

After being bitten by a radioactive spider in a school trip to Alchemax at the young age of 15, you obtained enhanced spider-like abilities: a sixth sense for perceiving danger, incredible reflexes, amazing parkour skills, extraordinary strentgh and flexibility.

And for the past ten years, you have been New York's one and only Spider-Woman.

Learning to use your powers was a whole trip on itself. They awakened rather clumsily -nothing a leap of faith could not fix- as you began to grasp the ropes of being a masked hero in your teenage years [it's safe to say that your teenage years were truly a heck of a rollercoaster].

Handling a double-life was not easy, that is something you have learned with your ten years experience. You saved a bunch of people and thus many lives, you won many times and saved the city countless more. Yet you also earned a bunch of dangerous criminals and villains tailing behind your back that would want to kill you without hesitation and harm you in any way possible.

In spite of the times you were beaten down, left made a mess in the ground, or at the brink of death- you would always get back up because you were Spider-Woman.

Sometimes, getting back up was hard.

The weight of the sake of the city was on your shoulders. And sometimes, that weight crushed you. When you lost your parents it was devastating, because not only had you failed as a hero, but as a daughter.

[Your dad perished in an attempt to save you from an attack of one of many enemies- the Green Goblin . You two happened to be on a ‘father and daughter’ outing in a nice dinner when the Green Goblin tried to draw out Spider-Woman from her hiding place in Brooklyn (unbeknownst of your true identity and much to your own misery and guilt.) After battling the Green Goblin and imprisoning him, you rose with your dead father in your arms, and an huge crack in your heart that would leave a deep scar.

Months later, your mother's followed suit. That day was chaotic, panic filled the streets of New York as The Rhino, a veteran soldier with super human strentgh and a high-techno advanced armor resembling a rhinoceros, laid waste to the city. You were evacuating all civilians nearby, swinging across and into buildings, picking up and scooping anyone you could encounter and putting them out of danger.

It happened as you held falling debris with your arms. You picked up wailing in between the many cries of people, and your spider-sense guided your eyes up from the ground.

A child, no older than five, was crying. He was glued to the floor, too overwhelmed by the calamity surrounding him. A wall from a building was falling on him and your heart beat raced. You still had people below you that were crawling out and the child was a or two block away. Your thoughts raced in your head, you had to save everyone, down to the last live.

"Come on, come on, come on" you muttered in between gritted teeth as you gathered power and lifted the debris into the air. With the help of your web shooter, you pulled all the remaining civilians out and casted aside the courtesy of double-checking as you swinged toward the child.

You could see how the wall fell over him, and you reached out your arm with your forearm out desperately, attempted to pull him out with your web but the wall was already about to touch his head and-

She pushed the child out of the danger, motherly instincts impulsing her feet at the cost of her own life. The child was pushed onto you and you brought him flush against you with your web, arms encasing him as you witnessed the wall collapse on her.

In shock and disbelief, you gently lowered the child to the ground and ran to the fallen wall. Once again in despair, you clawed through the debris and searched for your mother’s body.

You found her bruised and crushed, her face deformed. You brushed the dust off it. Her pained groan was faint, and you begged her right there and then not to leave you. Not to leave you alone, again.

“Is the kid al…?”

“Yes! Don’t, don’t talk. Help, help is coming. You have to stay, you have to.” But her eyes were already fading, and her limbs growing weak. Your disguised hand snatched up hers and you cried,

“Mom!”

She recognized your voice, the one she cherished the most. Her fading eyes gathered all the warmth they could muster and she reached out a quivering hand to your cheek. Her fingers slid into your mask, and she felt your tear stained skin.

“Ah my baby…[Y/n]…I’m so proud... Your father would be so proud... keep it up”. Her last words were voiced with strain, but you would always remember them.]

They became the fuel for your mission, and no matter how many times you were beaten to the ground and wounded to no end, you stood back up. You would save everyone else, no more deaths, you swore upon your parents' last moments.

Now in your adult life, you found yourself in a stable life besides the implications your side hustle not-so-side -hustle brought. You had an adequate job as a writer for small titles in a decent newspaper, and you had a department you shared with your childhood best friend, Peter Parker [who eventually became your tech-desk guy. Hiding your true identity from your best friend and roommate would have never lasted long anyway. You remember clearly the day you climbed into the living's window, beat up, bruised and tired, when the lights suddenly turned on and a Peter with crossed arms and an eyebrow raised was waiting for you like a parent whose child was past curfew. You were without your mask on. Nonetheless, after stuttering uncontrollably and failing to explain and just simply breaking down in front of him. Without saying any words, he took out the first aid kit and reassured you with a smile. You were so grateful to him.]

So now here you were, crouching on the top of The Clock Tower, the moonlight casting its light on your back and darkening your silhouette. Earlier in the day you dealt with some thugs and minor crimes, but since the sun fell nothing happened. That was odd, NYC was never quite, least of all times at night.

But your spider-sense was running, not rampant, but definetely there like annoying itch on the nape. Something had to be off, you knew it.

"Um, I'm not picking up anything, (Y/n). Maybe you should be calling it a night, you've been doing good work so far. You did lower the crime rate, after all."

"You sure Pete? There's this feeling in my gut and-"

"Your 'spidey- thingy' ?".

"Spider-sense, spidey-thingy sounds dumb" you answered with a small groan, rolling your eyes although he could not see the.

He chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he turned serious " but I'm not getting anything from anywhere. From police radios and stations to our own hidden cameras"

"Nothing? Sure?"

"I mean everything is awfully quiet now that I think about it... All I can pick up is glitching, let's see... let me do my thing and-" you could hear frantic typing through the comms of your suit within the mask, you could even picture Peter hunching and fixing his eyeglasses.

What he said left you pondering. Glitching? It couldn't be a coincidence that all the radio signals he could pick up were glitching.

"Aha! Here it is, your spidey-thingy was right." this time, you chuckled as if saying 'see?'. He continued, "-this should be a very hidden signal from the special forces team. Seems classified, man they should really put a little more money into whatever software they use to protect their privacy" and he pushed on one final 'enter', the glitching and static got louder almost startling you to which your friend apologized softly, but it evened out.

"Report the situation, Lieutenant Stacy"

"Requesting back-up right now, suspect is armed with advanced equipment, we are at the Port, South East, many of my men and women have been wounded and- oh, shit, shit" The man's words died down with the sound of something big crashing and breaking.

Well, that's your cue. You stood up on your toes and balanced you body weight forward, diving to the ground. With your limbs extended, you stretched your forearm and extended your wrist, web shooting out from the slick web shooter Peter designed.

Swinging from building to building under the night sky, you jumped across billboards and slid past tight spaces as you were heading to the location of the conflict, and the closer you swinged, the wilder your spider sense got.

When you arrived at the port, you saw a SWAT truck that was flipped over, it had a huge dent in the form of a what seemed to be a claw mark, and the windows had been broken. There were a few members on the floor, and you noticed there were two trying to lift the heavy vehicle.

"Let me help," you announced your presence and they whipped their heads. Their faces were glistening with sweat and dirt, and you could notice their equipment was damaged. You crouched and lifted the truck, there was one member there below, and his leg was twisted the other way, but he was breathing- well, panting.

Without further a do, the soldiers went and dragged out their friend. A soldier's face lit up, though they seemed hesitant [after all, your line of work was kind of controversial among the government and its forces] but they were thankful. "Thank you, Spider-Woman", their voice was genuine and you smiled below the mask.

"Your welcome, leave it to me" winking at them through your lense, you nodded and propelled yourself to the ceiling of the warehouse. You noticed a roof canopy at the center, lucky you, and brought the palm of your hand to it. Utilizing your sticky finger pads, you carefully removed a pane of glass and entered the building without making a sound.

"Be careful, please" Peter voiced with worry.

You hanged the web from it's strongest point at the peak, and slowly lowered yourself down until your hand gently brushed the cold floor . You got off the web and crawled in direction of the tingling of the spider-sense. You found some warehouse crates, pressed your back onto them, slowly leaning your head out to take a peak.

A man stood there, a middle aged man by the looks of him. He had a round pair of black sunglasses on and a large leather coat on, but the most outstanding feature was apparently behind him. Four metal tentacle-like arms sprouting from his back, with threatening looking claws. That had to be the thing that put such a dent in a SWAT vehicle, the advanced equipment you heard of in the interception.

He was ranting about something, speaking to himself. "The power of the sun at the palm of my hand, only to be ruined by that fucking-"

‘What is this man even talking about…’

His words died down in your ears as it took a few seconds for your spider-sense to peak, and you scrunched your face features. Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes squinted, cheeks squeezing up and causing the lenses of the mask to stretch and flatten.

"(Y/n)? Found anything yet?" Peter inquired.

"This man... I think I know him... but also not..." At this point, your spider-sense was rampant. Your gaze still confused as you tried to decipher him. Your spider sense was alerting you of this oddly familiar feeling. It was someone you had dealt with before, but also someone new. Simply off-putting.

Then the realization fell on you, his tentacle-like arms.

"Is that Doc Ock!?" Without getting a hold of your reaction, you accidentally raised your voice and revealed your location. Your spider-sense tingled again, this time, sensing imminent danger as you backflipped and dodged the incoming attack. The crate you were hiding behind of was broken into splinters.

"Come on out, Spider-Man!" he shouted, his voice in pure anger.

Spider-Man? As long as you remember, you never referred to your disguised self as Spider-Man...

"It's Spider-Woman, mind you" You revealed yourself off the shadows, and the light basked in your costume, revealing its signature colors and design. "Do I know you by chance?" you tited your head, inquisitive in your tone as you were trying to figure things out.

The man's expression fell, and his rage was replaced by annoyance.

"Is this some kind of sick joke, Spider-Man? Have you forgotten the name of the man whose work of life you ruined, Otto Octavius." His tongue rolled of his name with spite and you widened your eyes.

"Doc Ock? But, you are different. You are totally human". Last time you checked, Doc Ock was a mad scientist that turned himself half-octopus by bioengineering his genetics in the name of some sort of sick evolution idea. He had tried to turn the city into mutants like himself for 'the sake of humanity's future' and you managed to stop his plans. Furthermore, he had been sent to a high-security prison for villains, where an anti-serum is being developed to turn him back and halt his aggression.

"Are you pulling my leg Spider-Man?" He said with disbelief, and he began to appear more and more angry by the second. He muttered something below his breath, and you swore you saw one of his tentacles turn toward his face as if it were sentient and listening...

"I've told you it's Spider-Woman." You huffed out, chest puffing out. You had a bad feeling about this...

The man's hand ran down his own face and he groaned, visibly tired. "Well, whatever, but you do appear to be an ally of Peter Parker's, your costume and your name leave little room for further speculation". The mention of your friend raised up your guard, how did he know Pete? Any doubts and hesitation erased themselves of your mind, for your friend could be in lethal danger.

"Oh? What's the matter, 'Spider-Woman'," he sneered.

"Picked right on the web, hmm?" He edged on, a dangerous smirk dancing on his face and two claws raising up in the air, ready to pounce.

There was not much to it, as you jumped sideways to dodge whatever that clawed-tentacle-armor was. You found yourself right back at the gig, fighting a villain as the one and only Spider-Woman.

Or so you thought.

A/n: Hi! So when I first saw this fictional man I KNEW I had to write about him, originally, it was going to be a long one shot, but I decided to break it into parts. I expect this story to be up to 3 parts or 4 as most. Anyhow, I hope you come to like it!, and sorry for the long- ass intro, I really wanted to dwelve deeper into reader as a spider person. Next is the real thing. I have seen some people have asked me to tag them, so don’t be shy to ask too!

[lolita-lollipop]

Platonic yandere Miguel? You're an alt universe version of his daughter that he's taken in (aka kidnapped) so that he'll never lose her again, poor traumatized sod just wants a family again

Spiderweb

YANDERE MIGUEL O’HARA X READER

Preview:

When anomalies begin to enter universe 20477, Miguel is assigned to tracking them down. He wasn’t expecting to see himself, with a girl like you, scared and wide eyed on his arm. You were his, you just had to be.

(Platonic)

He knew what you would be to him.

He knew who you were.

He knew he had to protect you.

He knew he wouldnt let you go.

He couldn't.

It was purely coincidental, seeing you, that is. He just happened to be in your plane of existence that day, chasing down an anomaly that was jumping from universe to universe every other day. None of the others were able to catch him, a fast fujjer he was. So Miguel was a last resort, the only one capable enough to catch the guy. There was a chase down the streets of whatever universe he was in, then a catastrophic fight near the center of the city.

This place was so similar to his own universe, The same skies, the same cities, the same feeling, the same sadness as his own realm. He wanted to get in and get out, that's all. In fact, he was moments- seconds even- seconds away from catching the anomaly, seconds away from leaving this sad awful reminder of what happened to him. And then he saw you and his world stopped in its tracks.

You were teary-eyed, crying like a little baby. A few pieces of concrete that had been knocked up from the ground during the fight had cut your cheek, leaving a small dribble of blood streaming down your face. There was such a fear laced in your eyes, such a terror that flooded your expression. But that wasn't what shocked him about you, as his eyes panned from you to the man you had your arms wrapped around, his face fell completely.

You were clutching onto him. HIM. Miguel o’hara. You had your arms wrapped around his, clutched tight in fear, the two of you were trapped against the side of a building with rubble that had eroded. He was him, you were holding onto him, you had to be his daughter, and the way you were looking to him for protection was enough to show the parental status he had.

He had a daughter again.

You were his daughter.

He stared at the sight of the two of you for a moment, sending a harsh glare to his copy, his fake. Whoever you were clinging to, whoever you were wrapped around, he couldn't protect you. Miguel wanted nothing more than to pull you up and take you with him, take you home. But he couldn't, he had to play this carefully. He's lost a daughter before, he wouldnt do this again.

Like a flash, the tall man dressed in a black and red suit disappeared completely, along with the anomaly. Leaving the Town square In rubble. You blinked, just once, and when you opened your eyes once more, you had been pulled out from the bone-crushing concrete and were laid across the grass. It was too fast for you to see the man who had done it, to see the way his hands lingered at your waist, to see how he swiped the blood off of your face, to see how he looked at you. Of course, you hadn't. Maybe if you had, you could've avoided this.

---

You were shaken, to say the least. Things like this, like supervillains flying through the air and shattering buildings and corroding concrete, throwing people around like frisbees. Things like this just didn't happen, not ever. So to be trapped like that, stuck in rubble covered in blood as you had to watch the scene unfold… You were terrified. Even more so when your father had been hurt.

It was fast for the two of you to get away from the scene, especially since whatever was happening screeched to a halt, and the two figures disappeared, leaving the police, and you, completely confused. You just couldn't understand what the fudd happened, how could two people just disappear? Why did this happen all of a sudden? Why did that man- Why did he look so familiar?

It was supposed to be a fun little outing between you and your dad, a walk in the park to go get some food and have a picnic, but before you knew it you were shoved against a wall with glass and rock stuck in your face, your dad holding you close To shield you from the chaos around. You had been squeezing your eyes shut tight enough that they itched and ached now.

You were in too much shock to be able to give the cops any valuable information they would even remotely need, too focused on the fact Things like this didn't happen here, they just didn't. You cried on the way home, holding your (now bandaged) dad tight as you could. He hushed you, comforting you to the best of his ability. But you were both tired, too tired to care about taking your dirty clothes off or going to actual bed.

You slept on the couch, on your dad that night.

But when you woke up the next morning, he was gone.

It wasn't too strange for him, working as a doctor he was often called in early mornings to late nights, too early for you to be up when he left. But still, something felt off about it this time, usually he would wake you up for a few moments to say goodbye and give you a kiss. There was none of that today, just you, left under a blanket lying down on the couch, cold and alone and still scared straight.

The house felt different, dead. Like something was weighing heavy in the air, dragging all the air down and making it suffocatingly tight in the room. You wanted to get out, to go outside and go on a walk or something. But yesterday… with what happened. The feeling of dread sat in the back of your head, forcing you not to step out of your apartment, too scared to leave but too bored to stay.

You sat on the couch all day basically, watching reruns of old sitcoms. You knew your dad wouldn't be mad that you didn't want to go to school today, most of the time he came home too tired to do more than eat and sleep so you doubt he would even notice.

The sound of the door opening, along with uncharacteristically light footsteps Alerted you that your dad was home again, you sat up, pushing the blanket off of your shoulders and sitting up on the edge of the couch to look at him. At the sight of him, your head fell into a tilt, he looked… not bad, but different. A little bit more tired looking, his wrinkles were far more set into his face, and his was shorter, and far less groomed than it usually was.

“Hola Papa. Did you cut your hair or something? It looks different.” You narrowed your eyes at him with a small smile. He nodded, staring at you with some foreign look in his eyes. Setting down the few grocery bags he held in his hands.

You blinked, and within a moment he was on top of you, embracing you in a tight hug. You were immediately lifted off of the ground with a slight squeal, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he held you tight, breathing in your smell. How odd. Your dad isn't like this. Not very touchy, he never showed too much affection. The hug lasted for what felt like hours of you in his arms, held tightly.

You came realization only a few seconds in that you liked it, this is what you needed, and it felt nice. All the dread from your system completely drained out as his arms got tighter and tighter, and tighter. Since when has your dad been so muscular? Last you can remember, he was softer, not as rough. Strange, isn't it?

“Mija. I missed you so much baby, so much.” he breathed in the smell of your hair again, pulling you higher up onto his chest. His words should've sent off red flags in your head, you had just seen him hours ago right? You stayed quiet, choosing to relish in the moment of comfort this gave you. His voice was scratchy and rough, like he'd been screaming.

“Me too. I didn't go to school today, too scared.” Your voice was muffled against his chest, but you could feel his heartbeat with every breath he took. At your words his arms tightened slightly, and you squished your face further onto his neck. He was like a human furnace, radiating heat in your too-cold apartment.

“Oh baby- I’m here now. I’ll protect you, you won't ever have to be scared ever again.” With that, he brought a hand up to cup the back of your head, and his lips met your forehead in a warm kiss. If you maybe hadn't been so wrapped up in the fact that this felt so warm, so nice, you would've noticed the look he held in his eye. How deranged he looked, how terrifying he was. Maybe you would've paid more attention to all the little things that weren't adding up about him.

“Mi ninita. I’m so glad you're okay, I will never leave you again.” The two of you shared a glance, and that heavy feeling of dread pooled back into your system. There was something else in his eyes, something terrifying. Maybe you were just tired, or maybe you had head trauma from yesterday.

Moments passed as you enjoyed the warm hug, before he began to move, still keeping you in his arms, but walking elsewhere, you muttered a small “Hm?” squirming slightly in attempts to get yourself back on your own two feet, but he just shook his head at you, and squeezed.

“I got dinner while I was out, empanadas. I figured we could eat in my bed and watch a movie, You'll sleep with me tonight” He took note of your confused face, then went on to continue “ I don't want you alone anytime soon, especially not with all that's happening in the neighborhood. You don't want to get hurt, right? “

You just shook your head, letting yourself relax in his grip. Truly when had he become so strong, or on a different note, as affectionate? Usually, your dad was exhausted, he loved you, yeah, you knew that, but coming home from a 12-hour hospital shift at an understaffed medical center drained him. He usually didn't have time, and when he did he really didnt know how to spend it.

You slept better than you ever have in your entire life that night, close to your dad in his bed, cuddled under a warm blanket with your father's arms relentlessly wrapped tight around you, caging you in… you didnt hate it.

…

The next few weeks were different, strange, and not like you were used to. Everything changed. At first, it was just the little things, the things you would usually glide over. Miguel would come home early, leave later, and bring you food and clothes and stuff you were never able to afford.

Kids at your school started avoiding you, even though you never did anything to make you avoidable. It was weird for you, to see such a sudden shift in your life. The weirdest part about it though, is you had no idea what changed.

Not long after though, it got worse. Your dad would look through your phone, something he never cared about before, he always excused it with the same “I'm just looking out for you mija”, but it felt like a lie. Eventually, your contacts list shifted and changed to your dad.. And your dad. If you got any texts or calls he would look at them before you could, and decline them.

You stopped going out of the house as much, he excused you from school, telling you that you needed a break after all the trauma you've been through in the past few weeks. And without school or friends, you didnt have any reason to go out unless it was for mail or groceries. Even then, sometimes your dad would walk with you or just go himself instead. Eventually it got to the point that you weren't allowed to go out, not by your own choice anymore..

And Miguel, he would tell you things about what was going on outside. How all of a sudden there were villains on every corner, people were dying every day, crime was high. It scared you, and he clearly knew that, he used it to keep you inside, to keep you from going out.

It just got to the point where you did nothing, absolutely nothing. And you were tired of it. You wanted to go out, live your life and see people and see things, have fun with friends, do stupid teenager things. Things you should've already been doing. But he wouldnt let you, he made you stay inside, held you tight so you wouldnt leave.

And with the realization that this man was controlling you, your rose-colored glasses flew off of your face entirely. Your father wasn't like this, he barely cared enough to ask how your day was. Let alone keep you caged in your own home every day. Something was very very wrong. And just like that, it all snapped into place.

This isn't your dad. The way he acted, the way he walked, the way he held you, the way he looked at you, the way he controlled you, the way he comforted you when you were upset. There was not one thing about this man that made sense, not one similarity. Whoever this was, it wasn't your miguel ohara, it was a fake. A phony.

“Mija? Are you feeling sick? Whats wrong” He stared at you, letting his brows cluster together in worry. He had you sitting on the counter as he cooked, wearing one of your dads white t-shirts, it clung to his back muscles, showcasing the spider tattoo on the back of his neck. Your dad thought tattoos were trashy and unprofessional, and your dad most certainly did not have muscles like that. How had you been so daft as to miss that?

You stared, narrowing your eyes at the man who was wearing your dads clothing, your dads skin.

“Y/n?” he turned, placing the knife down on the counter, and grabbing your shoulders. The stranger stood in front of you, bending over to have his face at your level. He looked into your eyes, tilting his head. The position brought you back to your senses, and reminded you that this man, whoever he was, was extremely stronger than you were, and could overpower you without even thinking about it.

You snapped up. “Oh! Sorry. Just thinking.” you spoke with a shaky voice, grabbing his large hands with your own and straightening up from your slouched position on the counter. You met his gaze and squeezed his hand, his big hand. He was too big for you, you couldnt get away if he didn't want you to, you would have to be sneaky.

“What has you so deep in thought? Is my ninita daydreaming again?” a grin broke out on his face, showing his pearly canines. You returned the smile with a shaky breath. What were you supposed to do now? He hadn't made any move to hurt you yet, but he certainly could if he wanted to. You sent a glance towards the TV, where the local news was playing, the man left a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder before turning around and picking his knife back up.

Your entire body went frigid at the sight of the tv, you inhaled a small gasp, bringing your hand up to your mouth.

“The body of 31-year-old Miguel O’hara has been found, a resident doctor at the local medical center, any information about the whereabouts of this man’s disappearance should be reported to the authorities. Local police are currently investigating possible causes of death, and are contacting family and loved ones right now. This is Miles Morales with the six O-clock news, stay safe out there.”

Your hands shook violently as a photo of the scene splayed across the screen, it was a bloody mess, an utter monstrosity of a crime scene. The body was blurred completely, probably too gruesome to show on public access news, but you knew it was him, he had those old white shoes from the hospital on, the ones that he wore even though they were battered and covered in holes. And his wedding ring, the one with the tiny stone embedded at the edge of it. That was your dad, that was your fudding dad and he was dead. Mutilated and shown on the news.

You involuntarily let out a whimper at the sight, the hand you had on your face squeezed and shook, trying to keep your composure, keep yourself from sobbing and blowing your cover. You failed miserably, as tears clouded your vision and fell on the countertop. Your irregular breathing and whimpers brought the attention of the man in your kitchen wearing your father's skin, your dead father's skin.

“Ai dios mio- Mija what's wrong? Are you hurt?” immediately the man was on top of you, with his hands running up and down your arms, checking for any possible injuries. He was using that fake worried tone he always did, the one you would usually fall for. The rage that consumed you blurred your vision, that along with the cloudy tears. You smacked his hands off of you, pushing yourself back further onto the countertop. You stared with wide eyes.

“Who the fudd are you? “ You asked, staring at him with those teary eyes of yours, there was a pure hatred laced throughout your expression, his eyes flicked from you with shock as he muttered a small “language”, they then panned to the tv behind. His face slipped from confusion to dread, his eyes went wide and his brows unfurrowed and dropped. His shoulders went completely slack, and he just stood there, waiting for you to make your next move.

“Mija- just listen to me before you do anything stupid- I know it's scary but you need to listen to me for a second” he rushed out, his sweet voice now dripping with fear, why was he scared of all things? He was the one with the advantage. You squirmed back, hopping off the other side of the counter, you continued to back away, eyes staying just as wide.

“You didn't answer my fudding question. Who- Who are you.” He made no move to get closer, only staring at you, so you continued “ Did you- did you kill my dad? My real dad?” The way he tilted his head with those soft eyes of his answered your question enough. Your hands kept shaking, your head kept pulsing with fear, and finally… you let out a piercing scream. One the neighbors were sure to hear.

But in the blink of an eye, he was on top of you.

“Please- please mija. I am your father- your papa. Please, You don't have to be scared of me, I love you- I'll never hurt you.” His hand pressed against your mouth, leaving a white film that held your it completely shut. Your screams were muffled now, but still audible. He had you on the floor, on top of you, his hands pinning you down with his entire strength. You thrashed and looked around for anybody to help, but the more you moved the tighter his hands got. You were shaking, whimpering like a kicked cat.

“I promise you- Prometo mi ninita- I just wanted to protect you, I will never EVER lay harm to you. “ He was deranged, quickly rushing out the words in a panic. You had never seen him so fearful, so desperate, both your father and him. You stopped thrashing, Instead choosing to stare up at him. He was so… scary, now that he wasn't being sweet, now that he was forcing you onto the floor, holding you down. The look in his eyes was terrifying.

All of a sudden it was like you realized the position you were in, he could kill you right now, this imposter could crush your head in his hands and leave like nothing happened, he was going to hurt you. Kill you. Like he did your father. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god. You were frozen, your hands began to quiver harshly, and tears streamed down your cheeks freely, panic flushed through your veins, overtaking that rage that you previously, pure fear rushed over you entirely. And you couldnt control your body anymore.

You couldnt breathe, or think. Or feel your body, you were overtaken with a fuzzy terrified feeling, your entire body quivered as you stared at him. The film over your mouth certainly wasnt helping, you tried to inhale, but you couldnt, as your vision blurred further. You couldnt feel anything. You hadnt realized you were digging your nails into your skin until there was blood dripping out of your wrists.

“Baby- you need to calm down. Your hurting yourself, you don't have to be scared, I’m not going ot hurt you. Just breathe- Tienes que respirar mija- por favor” The usually completely stoic miguel ohara, the leader of the spiderverse protection program was panicking, more so than he ever had in the past. You were having a panic attack, a bad one, that much was obvious, he had never delt with this before. You kept shaking, his words doing nothing. So he brought his arms around you, hoisting you up to his chest once more. Now it wasnt comforting, now it made you more fearful.

“Shh- I’m here. It's okay- I’m going to calm you down, don't be scared - Youll be okay.” He hushed, before bringing his head to your neck, it left you completely speechless and shocked, before he brought his lips to the nape, and bit down firmly. The tips of his canines dipped in, and the tiniest bit of his venom flushed into your veins.

You were only able to let a small scream out, before the venom overtook your senses. And your quivering figure went slack in his arms. He held you tight, lifting you off the ground entirely and clutching you. He wouldnt let you hurt yourself, he wouldnt let anybody hurt you, he couldnt. He ruined his chances before, He couldnt do it again. Even if you were scared, he would help.

“Lyla?” he spoke to the watch resting around his rist, setting you on his hip in the process. A small “yes sir?” rang out from the device, before he continued “Lets go home, I expect the office is ready for her.” His voice was harsh now, commanding like it should be.

“Yes sir. A-are you sure this is a good idea? She clearly wont be able to handle something like-”

“I’ll take care of it. Just do your job.

Were coming home. finally.”

———————————————————————

This is not very good. But I kinda like it. also MIGUEL OHARA TAKE ME NOW… anyways.

ALSO I COME FROM A HISPANIC FAMILY BUT I USE SPANISH LIKE NEVER SO IT IS NOT GOOD DONT BE MEAN.

Thanks for requesting anon! And thanks for reading! Please don’t be scared to write comments I absolutely love seeing them!

Have a great day! Bye!

[an-ambivalent]

Reunited [Yandere! Miguel O’Hara]

Synopsis: Two souls who have once lost one another, find themselves reunited. It reignites the passion, the love, and the lust. For a moment, the longing and despair disappears and everything becomes okay again. You feel okay again. But like the stars that become supernova, the passion, the lust, and the facade of  love burns up. You realise all too late that your new Miguel is nothing like your old one. 

Warnings: As this is yandere fiction, this deals with behaviours  that can be uncomfortable and triggering to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional, I do not condone this behaviour irl. By clicking the ‘read more/keep reading’ you are consenting to read this at your discretion.

PSA: idk much about the multiverse or marvel  other than whatever is shown in ATSV. So if “interdimensional” stuff isn’t accurate, well, idrc.  Also, not really proof read. We die like men -  Happy reading!

It was a momentary glimpse through the an interdimensional portal when each person saw the other again. Like a typical day, you had saved your city from whatever disaster was happening once more. In the beginning, your heart was embedded in the work you did as a superhero; the thrill of chases and extraordinary powers were exhilarating, and the praise and feelings of accomplishing good things of saving people inspired you to keep doing what you were. But out of all the people you saved, there was one couldn’t - your fiancé, Miguel O'Hara. 

The agony of losing your closest person had been unbearable. The absence of his presence, reminiscing in your memories with him in everything: your shared home, his clothes, the lack of affection you now found yourself with - everything, it all continued to tighten that knot in your chest. And no matter how much time passed, you weren’t healing. You could not accept the reality. The grief felt like it was continuously swallowing you whole until there was going to be nothing left, until you were going to be nothing but a shell of your former self. And just before you were about to lose all hope, there was a small disturbance in the fabric of space near you, until it had morphed into an portal that showed you another place. There you saw him: your Miguel, who looked just as dead in the eyes, and a hollow shell like you, like he had gone through the same grief you had. 

But life is cruel because just before either of you could call out to the other, the portal had closed in an instant. You had been ripped away from his grasp for the second time, and Miguel was not going to have that. 

It wasn’t difficult for him to track you down. After all, he had access to the multiverses. He had already checked multiple versions of Earth where you had never existed in the first place. In the others that you had, you met the same tragic fate that his own [Name] had. So to find an you, who was perfectly safe and alive, and definitely an anomaly, he was going to have you. For the sake of multiverse, the best decision was to take you from your dimension, and keep you beside him, isolated from the world, so you were safe and he could maintain monitoring of your influence on the multiverse. 

Much to his pleasure, Miguel did not even have to try to get you to fall for him. You had lost a version of him, and were yearning and desperate for him just like how he was yearning and desperate for you. Immediately, both of you felt like you were restarting your relationship where it had been left off: the deep kisses and clutching onto each other until your nails dug in each other’s skin; gentle whispers of ‘I missed you’ and ‘I love you so much’ hushed over and over again in between the lip locking when oxygen was desperately needed and clothes would start to come off. 

But eventually, the reunion perceived through the rose tinted glasses came off and you finally noticed how you were never able to leave the place Miguel and you lived in. You hadn’t met anyone else, you only ever saw Miguel. You rationalised to yourself that he was just being protective and cautious of your safety because he had lost you; you may have been the same way if you hadn’t known that the current Miguel had his own powers and was capable of looking after himself. So, you just had to let him know that you also had powers and could look after yourself. Surely then, you would have your freedom? 

It was during the dark hours when you were once again engaged in intimacy with Miguel. Your room was dimply lit and you were both half bare. You withered on the cool bedsheets beneath you as Miguel gently nipped and sucked on that  perfect spot between the back of your ear and neck, toes curling, fingers pulling on his messed up hair, and breathy and sensual gasps leaving your lips. 

“Can we, ah, p-please talk?” You whispered, while you shifted one hand to naked chest, and half heartedly tried to push him to create some distance. 

“There’s nothing to say right now, mi amor. There’s only our love right now,” He responded easily, and went to kiss you on your lips. But, you moved your head away, and this time, pushed him away firmly to create the distance you wanted. You prepped yourself mentally to bring up your concerns, and in doing so, failed to noticed the frown that Miguel now wore due to your rejection. 

“I just want to reassure you that nothing is going to happen to me, just like I know you’ll be safe too because you’re Spiderman.” You said softly, and affectionately swept his hair back with your fingers. Miguel grabbed and kissed the palm of your other hand, while raising an eyebrow. 

“I know nothing is going to happen to you, not again. I’m going to keep you safe. If anyone tries to hurt you, I will kill them.” He stated plainly. Then, he leaned down to kiss you once more, but you moved your head again so he kissed your cheek instead. 

His words had made your stomach churn, but nonetheless, you tried to remain optimistic. You smiled at him weakly. “No I meant that unlike my first Miguel, you have powers, so I know you are capable and strong. And unlike your original [Name], I have powers so you don’t need to worry-” 

“I am not going to worry. It doesn’t matter that you powers, you’re not going to go anywhere else. You will remain here, where I know where you are all the time.” He said, and your eyes widened in surprise. Just when he was about to try to kiss you for the third time, feeling like he was near the end of his wits, you started to use your strength to pull away. 

“What do you mean I’m going to remain here?! You’re not the boss of me! Let me go!” You shrieked. 

Miguel growled in displeasure. “Stop your idiocy before I make you regret it.” He hissed, and his claws dug into your skin, and drew blood as a warning. Although it hurt, it wasn’t painful as his words were. He had threatened you. The Miguel you knew would have never threatened you. 

“Make me regret it?! Who the hell do you think you are?! You’re not my Miguel.” You responded indignantly. As you tried to pull away once again, Miguel didn’t let you. Instead, his grip tightened to the point where you finally cried out in pain. 

The sclera of his eyes was starting to red and he leaned down just inches away from your face, baring his fangs threateningly at you. 

“I was never your Miguel and you were never my [Name]. But we’re all that’s left of each other, and I’d damn the whole world before I lose you again. I’ll show you exactly the Miguel I am. And I’ll continue to show you who I am, until you finally understand that you now belong to me.” 

[yandereaffections]

LITERALLY NO CLUE IF I’M PAST THE DEADLINE IT’S LIKE 1AM HERE FUCK IT WE BALL

Miguel with a reader who is the polar opposite of him?? Like he’s all dark and broody and serious and reader’s just like “okay lol I made cookies!” Him trying to pretend to be annoyed by reader but ends up failing when reader huge him? He would cease to function watch me OOC is the best kind :3

As much as Miguel complains about you distracting him from saving the multiverse, he never actually does anything about you unlike other spiders that might hit a nerve. If you point his 'acception' out he'll actually push you out of his monitor filled room after denying any comment you made with record speed, even Layla gets snapped at when daring to laugh at the scene

There will be times where you genuinely begin to think Miguel wants nothing to do with how you behave, how he's so distant and reserved, only having deeper conversations when you ease him into it, begin to think maybe you shouldn't be bothering him anymore. Watch his attention to detail crumble cause he doesn't have his buddy by his side, Layla will tease him about it consistently until Miguel finally goes out of his way to search for you, needing your company to continue with his work

The most stone hearted spiderman can be completely corroded, unbenounced to him of course. Miguel wouldn't even notice it happening when you get all giddy, seeing him coming after you gladly throwing yourself in his arms, everyone else can though.

[i-cant-sing]

we all know that miguel calls the reader by ‘mija’ but what does he prefer the reader to call him by? would he be alright if you just straight up call him miguel?

(pretty sure its common sense that it’s disrespectful to call parents by their name)

He obviously prefers if you'd call him "papa", "dad" or any variation of this, but he ABSOLUTELY HATES it when u call him by his name. Doesn't matter he's not ur bio kid, hoe can u just call him "Miguel" like he's ur friend. Everytime u call him by his name, he is completely appalled, raises his brows at you like "are you sure you wanna use that term?" And then if you continue using his name, he's just gonna ignore you for the rest of the day until you frustratedly shout "listen to me DAD!" And then he finally turns to you and smiles in victory-

"Yes, mija?"

Meanwhile Hobie is telling u to just call him a "little puta!" If you really want him to listen. "I'm telling you, Y/n. Miguel would love these nicknames- they're praises. I bet he'd be so happy that he might even let you come on missions with us. Yeah, yeah. Just call him- puta! And don't stop, no matter how much he tells you to. He's just shy like that. I would know that cause I'm his best friend, yknow?"

[atlasscrumpit]

Yandere Miguel (Forced Age Regression)

You were strapped to a chair with a cloth tied around your mouth to stop you from making noise.

You were at a dining table as Miguel sat on the table and put his feet either side of your chair, towering over you.

"Now, babygirl. I want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you, I care about you, a lot. But, I didn't take into account that you're not that bright up there. And that's okay, my darling. It just means daddy needs to do the thinking for you. You've been a bad girl lately, little one. Not eating when daddy says, not listening to me or trying to run away. So, now daddy has to give you some special medicine." He said as you felt tears in your eyes while looking at him.

"It'll just be a small pinch, darling. I know you can be brave." He whispered getting off the table and bringing out a small box. 

He opened it and brought out a needle before administering it into your upper arm making you cry softly. 

"Shh, there we go, my brave girl. Now, daddy has to give you this everyday, I know it hurts but I also know how brave you are, isn't that right?" He asked leaning forward to kiss away one of your tears. 

He slowly untied the cloth around your mouth. 

"Please, Miguel stop this." You whispered as you cried. 

"Shh, baby it's okay. Daddy's gonna take care of all of this." He whispered reaching forward to hold your face in his hand. 

"I'm not a child! And I'm sure as hell not your fucking daughter, you sicko!" You screamed before he grabbed your face roughly. 

"Now, that's not language a little girl like you should be using! You will apologise or I'm sending you straight to your room without dinner." He warned as you glared at him. 

"What the hell was that medicine you gave me?" You growled as he sighed again.

"So many questions, little one. Why can't you just trust daddy?" He asked as you looked away from him.

"No, you just drugged me. How on earth could I trust you?" He asked as he suddenly came closer to your face.

He grabbed your face again and you could see the psychotic look in his eyes.

"Now, listen here. If you keep going on like this I'm going to have a special punishment for my little girl. I will slice open your throat, pierce your voice box, let you bleed out just to the point you think you're going to die and then bring you back scared with no voice. Daddy doesn't like scaring you, baby. But sometimes you make it hard, don't you?" He asked as you looked at him in fear, you knew his threat was real.

"So, now that I've gotten that out of the way. Are you going to be a good girl and have some dinner with me?" He asked, staring into your eyes as you nodded a little.

"Use your words, darling." He said running his finger down the side of your face.

"Yes..." You replied making him smile.

"Now there's a good girl." 

--

You sat at the table, thankful he had taken away your restraints. 

You slowly ate your dinner across from Miguel. 

"See? Isn't it nice when I treat you well?" He said as you kept your head down and nodded.

"Come on, sweetheart. Can you give me a little smile?" He asked as you looked up and smiled a little.

"Good girl, you're such a pretty girl. I'll let you pick a movie after dinner if you finish your dinner, darling." He said as you looked back down and continued eating.

You eventually finished and Miguel took your plate.

"That's a good girl, go get comfy and choose a movie I'm just going to clean up. Make sure it's nothing scary okay, baby? I don't need you up all night." He said as you rolled your eyes and went over to the couch and sat down.

You eventually picked out a movie, a comedy that was 'pg' and waited for Miguel.

He eventually came back and sat on the couch, pulling you into him.

"Let me know if you're falling asleep, love. You still need to shower and brush your teeth." He said as you nodded a little and leant against him, you were too tired to fight.

You knew whatever Miguel had given you was making you tired.

"Darling, don't fall asleep you need a shower." Miguel said gently shaking you awake.

"Too tired." You muttered cuddling into him more.

He smiled and stroke a hand through your hair.

"Okay, baby. Daddy will carry you to bed soon, you can shower in the morning." He whispered kissing your forehead.

"Say goodnight to me, baby. Don't be a naughty girl." He said as you kept your eyes closed still exhausted.

"Goodnight, daddy."

[yanmaresu]

Yandere! fem! Miguel O'Hara

I haven’t been able to see the movie and made this purely off vibes qwq but the idea of Miguel chasing their darling and going from 0 to 100, no in between, has been stuck on my mind for days. Also, I've been avoiding spoilers thanks to the Miguel fanart so I'm thankful.

Single drawing version of this one because I think it looks pretty.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Caught In The Spider's Web.

Pairing: Yandere!Miguel O'hara x Reader (Spiderverse).

Word Count: 2.8k.

TW: N0n///C0n, AFAB!Reader, Biting, Mentions of Blood, Implied Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Verbal Degredation, Slut-Shaming But In A Projection Way, and Choking.

“Get back here, qué perra!”

“Keep your voice down, we’re in a museum!” You called over your shoulder, chasing it with a breathless laugh before sparing a glance behind you, to where Miguel was still busy clawing through the layers of haphazardly laid webbing that were currently keeping his chest and arms pinned against the far wall of newly-emptied display. You saw his talons tear through the last of it before turning your attention forward – to the tall, narrow halls of the museum, or more specifically, to the stone archways spaced every twenty feet or so. With a wild grin and one last squeeze to the diamond-studded necklace around your neck, the strap of the rucksack weighing heavy against your back, you shot your webs toward the next archway and flew.

Or, swung, more accurately – with Miguel close on your heels. He was more experienced than you, more used to superhuman strength and animalistic agility and everything that happened when a radioactive spider took an interest in you, but no amount of refined skill could’ve measured up to your raw, unrestrained zeal, to the rush of adrenaline that came with every new heist, every new opportunity to use your new powers. Even in the confined space, you moved erratically; vaulting off of walls and falling into jagged nose-dives, never gaining any distance on Miguel but never letting him catch you, either. More than once, you felt his claws graze your back, heard his low growls and muffled cursing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to worry. Why would you? You were a superhero, now, even if you didn’t do many heroic things. You felt invincible. You were invincible – at least in that moment. At least before Miguel got his hands on you and put an end to your fun for the thousandth time. “Y’know, I really thought you’d be cool with this,” you went on, bouncing off of a display case a fraction of a second before he crashed into it, shattering the glass. “I’m like Robin Hood, dude!”

There was a half-snarled bark, a flash of red in your peripheral. You threw yourself to the left just in time to avoid a tendril of pulsing, luminescent webbing – earning yourself just enough time to shoot a playful wink back at him. He bared his teeth, in response. “Robin Hood gave to the poor. You just steal and cause anomalies.”

“I’d be poor if I stopped stealing!” Finally, you came to the room you were looking for – an open lobby with a domed, crystalline ceiling – a ceiling with a panel no one ever seemed to remember to lock. You’d left it open on your way in, and if you were lucky, you’d be able to slip out of it without alerting the guards posted at every other exit. After that, it was only a matter of losing Miguel in the dark city (you’d apparently been the only spider-people smart enough to skip the eye-bleedingly bright color scheme) and hiding a place to lay low in your own dimension. You’d have to come back in a few weeks to sell what you’d stolen, but that was something you could worry about later on. You’d earned your haul, tonight. “It’s been fun, Miguel, baby,” You let your swing go wide, vaulting yourself towards the ceiling and landing just underneath your escape hatch. You let yourself hang there for just a second longer than you could afford, flashing another smile toward Miguel before—

 Before you felt his webbing latch onto your lower back, wrenching you away from the domed ceiling and sending you plummeting downward before you could think to react. Your back hit the floor with enough force to crack the marble, your rucksack of stolen art and jewelry landing somewhere to your left and spilling open. With any chance of escaping Miguel gone and your latest haul scattered across the museum floor, you went limp, letting a pained groan slip past your lips. That was the thing about super-durability. The fall hadn’t broken every bone in your body, but your bones didn’t know that.

Miguel was bolting towards you in a second, on top of you in another. You managed to lift your arm, but your web-shooters only responded with a sad, dry grinding – out of ammo, because you always ran out of webbing at the worst times. His hand shot to his mask, his bared fangs catching in the dim light, but you raised your hands in surrender before he could bite down. “Hey, hey, you can save that for the thirst traps. I can spend the next twelve hours catatonic without your help.” With a heavy sigh, you collapsed, letting another wave of aching soreness wash over you before going on. “Take me home. I’m done for the night.”

It took him a few seconds to bite back his anger, to put on that stoic, put-together face you loved to tease him for. Pursed lips, narrowed eyes – all the things that’d fall away as soon as you got on his nerves. “You’re not getting off that easily, this time.”

“C’mon, Miguel, what do you think you’re going to do to me? Lock me in a cell for a couple days? Let your mega-spider bite me? Lecture me until I buy into your ‘great power comes with great responsibility’ bullshit?” Even exhausted and worn down, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. He made himself an easy target, and you’d always loved the taste of low-hanging fruit. “We both know how this works. You toss me around a little, tell me to spend more of my time saving orphaned puppies trapped in burning buildings, then send me back to my own dimension. Don’t tell me you’re gonna break our routine now.”

He didn’t answer, a pressed scowl pulling at the corners of his mouth as he worked off his mask. He hand dropped to the collar of your suit, and you let out another laugh, this one more nervous than the last. “Are you going to take my watch? You know I’ll just make another one when I get home.”

His fist wrapped around your stolen necklace, wrenching it off of you with enough force to snap the silver, jewel-studded chain and send rubies and sapphires scattering around you. You watched the precious gems clatter to the floor, mentally tallying up how much you could’ve gotten for each. Clearly, Miguel wasn’t as concerned with their value as you were. “You’re not going home.”

“Miguel, that’s not fun—”

“Say my name one more time and I swear I’ll—” He cut himself off with a throaty growl, turning his claws toward your chest. Before you could so much as think to panic, the front of your suit had been torn to tattered shreds, leaving you vulnerable and exposed to the open air and thrashing against the hand now wrapped around your neck, clawing at his wrist and kicking at his chest for all you were worth. If Miguel noticed your meager attempts at resistance, he didn’t seem fazed, didn’t feel the need to respond with anything more than a harsher glare, a straighter posture, a row of pointed nails driven that much deeper into the side of your throat. “Cállate. Just shut up and take what you deserve.”

The palm pressed into the base of your windpipe, a flash of sharpened teeth in the corner of your vision, and then, Miguel’s fangs were planted in your neck, his venom sent coursing through your veins. The feeling, while unpleasant, wasn’t alien to you. You were hyper-aware of your joints locking into place, your limbs going stiff and still, a heavy fog forming over the part of your brain that told the rest of your body to get up and fight. He pulled away before the numbness set in, before you could completely float into that void of immobile, oblivious existence, but when you tried to lift your arm, to kick at his chest, your body failed to respond. You cursed under your breath, glaring at Miguel, but he'd already moved on.

A gloved hand worked its way under the tattered remains of your suit, grazing over your lower stomach before cupping your cunt. It was the adrenaline, the high and the sudden let-down. Miguel must’ve known that, but it did little to dampen the condescension in his faint smirk as he collected your slick on his fingertips, swiping the pad of his thumb over your clit and drinking in the way your expression contorted. “Little slut,” he muttered, the scarlet shine of your blood still visible on his fangs. “You’re already soaked. Can’t let someone put their hands on you without dripping all over them, huh?”

You grit your teeth, doing what you could to swallow back a half-choked moan. “Stop,” And then, with more than a note of desperation in your voice, “This is a crime, you’re not supposed to—”

The air hitched in your throat as he brought his open palm down on your cunt – the blow rough, sudden, sharp. If you’d been able to, you would’ve gone stiff, would’ve lashed out, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t squirm, couldn’t do anything but hold your breath and stifle a pained moan as the first blow was followed by another, then another, then another, until your cunt was sore and throbbing, until there were tears forming in the corners of your eyes and Miguel was breathing heavily above you. “I told you to be quiet.” It was a hiss, more than anything. A threat he could carry out, but not say aloud. “I’d tell you not to make this worse for yourself, but you were always going to find a way to make this more difficult than it had to be.”

You moved to apologize reflexively, to beg him to let you go, but he clearly didn’t have an interest in anything you had to say. He was already shoving two fingers into your burning entrance, adding something else to the ache – not quite pleasure, but not as far as you needed it to be, either. Everything he did was rough, cruel, from the way he stretched you open to how much force he used while grinding the heel of his palm into your clit. Everything he did was less for your gratification and more for his own entertainment, for as humorless as he’d always seemed to you before. Miguel’s paralysis limited your reactions, stopped you from grinding into his hand or squirming underneath him, but it didn’t help to hide your expression, to stop you from biting your lips or rolling your head to the side, giving in to the baselessly hopeful part of your mind yelling that not looking at Miguel would make him leave. He only laughed, the noise low and dark and infinitely more than anything he’d ever given you, before. That made sense. Miguel had always struck you as the kind of man who could only let his guard down after he’d already broken through yours – this was just the first time he’d gotten the chance to prove you right.

Eventually, he pulled back, drawing an airy whimper from the base of your throat at the sudden lack of stimulation. There was a wet, distorted sound you couldn’t bring yourself to name, a fist wrapped around your arm, and then, he was turning you onto your chest, keeping your wrists pressed against your back with one hand while the other spread your thighs apart. You felt his cock, already hard, already thick enough to send a pang of dread to your core, against your ass, and suddenly, you were very aware of just how easily he towered over you, just how little effort it took for him to press his chest into your back and cage you underneath him. Even if you hadn’t been paralyzed, you didn’t know if you’d be able to do anything to get away from him. Not after you’d already been caught in his web.

“You’re going to cum on my cock,” You felt his lips against your ear, the low timbre of his voice reverberating in the back of your mind. “And you’re going to fucking thank me, when you do.”

There might’ve been more. There probably was, but whatever he said was drowned out by a dull, droning buzzing in your ears – a lifeless static that nearly blocked out the feeling of his hands on your hips, his knee nudging your legs apart, the leaking head of his cock resting against your entrance before he thrust into you, splitting you open in an instant.

He was so, so much bigger than you. Even with the fall, even with his venom, you could still feel so much of him, still couldn’t seem to block out the way your own dripping cunt struggled to clench down around the girth of his cock. You let out a fractured gasp but regretted it immediately, trembling as you struggled to inhale while feeling so impossibly full. There might’ve been blood. It was hard to tell with the slick dripping down your thighs, with Miguel lapping over the side of your throat. He sounded animalistic, growling as he rolled his hips and buried himself deeper in your core, his nails burrowing into your hips and mangling what was left of your poor, ruined suit. You’d have to make a new one, when you got back to your own dimension, when you got back to your tiny apartment already over-crowded with stolen art and half-finished projects. If Miguel ever let you go back.

“You’re tight for a little whore.” He made no effort to be gentle, to hold back, to do anything but bully your cunt, bruise your ass, leave you breathless and struggling just to keep yourself sane. “Must be a tease,” he went on, dropping a hand to your clit and rubbing circles into the abused bundle of nerves. “That’s it. Stealing everything you could get your hands on, wrecking the multiverse – that was just your way of getting my attention, huh? Bet you were just waiting for someone to pin you down and fuck you.”

You could feel your legs starting to shake, in spite of the paralysis. “Please, I can’t—”

“So fucking needy, too.” There was a deep laugh, an open-mouthed kiss pressed into the curve of your throat. “I’ll have to put a collar on you. Might catch you bending over for the first person you see if nobody knows who you— fuck, who you belong to.”

His pace had been punishing from the start, but at that, it turned brutal. You felt tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes, a tight knot of tension forming deep in your core. His cock beat against something sensitive and vulnerable in your pussy and you screamed, a strangled moan tearing past your lips. “Please, Miguel, I need you to stop—"

Your voice gave out before you could finish, but that was all Miguel needed to hear. Before you could take it back, before you could bite your tongue and curse yourself for trying to say anything at all, his hand was on your neck, cutting off your oxygen supply and leaving you choking for air, leaving your cunt convulsing around him. “De nuevo.” It was a demand, an order. You were starting to wonder if he knew any other way to speak. “Say that again, before I change my mind and snap your neck.”

“Miguel.” Croaked, airy, only half-coherent. When his grip only grew tighter, you said it again, and again, and again, his name forming an incomprehensible mantra that played in-time with the pulsing in the back of your skull, in the walls of your pussy. You felt yourself clench around him, your vision burning white as either his cock or the lack of oxygen or some awful combination of the two vaulted you to a breath-stealing, mind-numbing climax – strong enough and blinding enough to leave you crashing on the downswing, plummeting into an infinite abyss of searing heat and overstimulation as soon as your climax gave out under his violent affection. Vaguely, you were aware of Miguel’s touch growing rougher, of his voice in your ear, of his cum flooding into your sore pussy. He made no attempt to pull out, but you weren’t surprised. You didn’t know if anything Miguel did could surprise you, anymore.

You were in a haze as Miguel drew back, nipping at the corner of your jaw one more time before finally letting you go. It wasn’t his venom keeping you still, anymore, but your own exhaustion – weighing you down as he lifted you into his arms, letting you rest your head against his chest. Through your eyelashes, your watched Miguel type something into his watch, a neon-shaded portal cutting through the fabric of reality a moment later. You tried to protest, to call on whatever hidden pocket of strength you still had and get away from him, but all you managed to do was squirm in his arms and let out a small, pathetic whine. Miguel responded by pressing his lips against your forehead, chuckling softly. As if this was funny to him. As if he found this cute. “Settle down. You have nothing to worry about.”

He smiled for the first time that night, and you felt something in the pit of your stomach crack.

“I’m taking you home.”

[married-to-google-translater]

Yandere Miguel O`hara headcanon

Miguel is an overprotective, possessive and controlling yandere.

This man would already be a mess.

He certainly wouldn't have recovered from losing his "family".

Miguel must not have heard of therapy…

And if Miguel were to fall in love again, he would never want to lose his love again.

And he's willing to do almost anything to ensure your safety.

No matter how morally questionable it would be.

Kidnapping would come into the picture quickly.

It's time to say goodbye to your freedom.

Miguel would also like to keep your existence hidden.

He would have many enemies.

Because he is both a superhero and the leader of Spider society.

Miguel wouldn't really be good with emotions.

He would try to be gentle.

But Miguel wouldn't really be very good at it.

He would have "mild" anger management issues.

Especially if you do something stupid that puts either you or Canon's safety at risk.

Oh yes Canon is Miguel's second obsession.

Usually, he is content to show emotions by throwing things.

He really doesn't want to hurt you.

Unless you make him really, really mad.

Then Miguel would be forced to use physical punishments.

And Miguel is definitely not good at comforting after punishment

No best yandere

[barefoot-joker]

Two Lonely Hearts  Yandere!Miguel O’Hara X Reader

Hey, guys! I hope you all are doing well. This is my first time writing for Spider Man and for Miguel O’Hara. I just think he’s neat. The Spanish I did Google Translate so please let me know if it’s wrong so I can fix it! I hope you guys all enjoy and have a great day/ night!

Words: 2010

Warnings: Implied suicidal thoughts, anxiety, depression, yandere tendencies, kidnapping, talk of forced mothership

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

I sighed and groggily turned off my alarm. Last night I did not get a lot of sleep, even with my sleeping pills. It has been like this a lot lately and it sucks because the night is when my mind wanders the most. I hate that I have to deal with my anxiety and depression even while I try to sleep. It really sucks the life out of you.

Today I was in the mood to not get out of bed. I just wanted to lay there and let the day pass while I wrapped myself up in a blanket cocoon. I indulged myself and lay there for a while when I suddenly felt like I was being watched. I brought the blanket over my head similar to what a child does to try and get rid of the feeling. 

It didn’t go away.

I might as well get up. 

With that, I shrugged the blanket off my body and slumped my way out of bed. My bare feet slid against the wood floor as I was too tired to try and lift them. It’s going to be one of those days. 

I tiredly made my way to my closet and picked out a f/c t-shirt, a pair of basketball shorts, and my undergarments. With those in hand I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I set my clothes down on the toilet seat and when the water was scalding hot, I got in. I liked hot showers. They felt like they got rid of some of the grime my emotions left. After I completed my normal routine, I just stood there and allowed the warm water to run down my body. Let the water take it all away, Y/n. Let it take it all away.

Soon the water turned frigid and I knew this was my cue to get out. While I didn’t like wasting water, it felt nice to just stand there and not have to worry about anything. The shower was like a safe haven for me. I could block out my adult responsibilities and emotions for a while and just concentrate on the water. 

Turning off the spigot, I allowed the cool air to pass by the shower curtain and tingle my skin. It was like my actual wake up call for the day. Sliding the curtain open, I stepped out and grabbed my towel to dry off. The fuzziness of the towel was calming and as soon as I dried off I slowly put on my clothes. I looked at myself in the mirror when I was all done. My eyebags had gotten worse and I looked a bit pale. I could almost compare myself to that of a zombie with how tired and dead I looked. 

I sighed and rubbed my eyes, seeing if that would take the dreadful image away. Of course it didn’t, so I left the bathroom in search of breakfast. I hadn’t gone grocery shopping in a long time. Being around people lately was scary to me. It felt like their eyes were always on me and judging my every move. Looking in my fridge I knew I would have to conquer my fear and go out today to get some food. Especially since the only things I had in my fridge were apples, two slices of bread and some jelly. Jelly sandwich with some apple slices it is.

I took out my ingredients and set them on the countertop. I turned to my cutlery drawer and took out a butter knife. Looking at the blade, I regretted taking it out. My hands started to twitch as I gazed at it, ashamed of my thoughts going through. Breathe, Y/n. Breathe. In. And out. In. And out.

I followed along to my breathing technique and placed the jelly on one slice of bread. As soon as this was done, I disposed of the knife in the sink as fast as I could. My thoughts still lingered on the blade, but now that it was out of my hands I felt a bit better. Turning back to my breakfast, I placed the top piece of bread on to complete my sandwich. I also decided not to slice up my apple. I took my breakfast to the couch and began to eat, the silence in the apartment was deafening. I took my time since I wasn’t in a hurry to go outside and be an adult quite yet, not that I liked being in my apartment either. I was hoping to be in a place that was away from the world, my own little dimension. It would be so lovely.

I finished up my breakfast after a while and then wrote out my to do list. After this was done I put on some sneakers, grabbed my bag, and headed out. The walk from the fifth floor down wasn’t a bad one fortunately, so soon I was out on the street. The surge of people out and about made me want to crumble, but I forced myself to trudge on. Once again it felt like I was being watched, but I assume it’s all the people around me. Things can get like that sometimes. 

It only took me a few minutes to get to the grocery store, which is nice that it’s not too far from my abode. I grabbed a basket from the front entryway and began my journey. I had only gotten a few items in when I saw a child looking scared on the side. She had tears in her eyes and I felt bad for her. Even though my anxiety was high, I wanted to see this little girl safe. I walked over and knelt to her height. “Hi there, sweetie. What’s wrong?”

“I-I-I can’t find my M-mommy-y,” she said through sobs.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said as nicely as possible, “I’ll help you find her.”

“R-really?”

“Uh-huh. Now, do you know what color shirt your mom was wearing?”

“It was r-red, a dark r-red.”

“Okay. C’mon, kiddo.”

I held out my hand for her to take and luckily she did. The two of us walked around the store when the little girl gave out a happy shriek. “Mommy!”

A woman with a dark red shirt and braided hair quickly turned and smiled wide when she realized her child was safe. “Sarah!”

She ran towards us and hugged her daughter tightly. It was honestly a very fulfilling scene. “Oh I was so worried about you!”

“I’m sorry, Mommy. But this nice lady helped me!”

The woman looked up at me and smiled wide. “Thank you so much, dear. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“I understand, Ma’am. It was my pleasure.”

She nodded at me, took her little girl by the hand and walked down the aisle. I sighed happily and continued my shopping trip.

It took me a bit to get everything, but in the end I completed my to-do list. Walking back to my apartment, I thought about the events in the grocery store. I helped out others all the time. Even though I was suffering on the inside, why should somebody else? However, even my kind deeds did not make my sadness go away, no matter how hard I tried. It was pointless. 

After I got back to my house and put everything away, I decided to take a nap. I was tired after all the social interaction. Quietly, I snuck back to my bed and laid down. My eyes closed and it took about twenty minutes before I finally fell asleep.

It felt like a few hours had passed when I finally woke up. I yawned, stretched and got up…or at least attempted to. I was confused when I felt more bed when normally I’d have my feet on the floor by now. Sitting up quickly, my eyes widened. 

I wasn’t in my room.

I was somewhere completely different.

I scooted myself over to the side of the bed and rushed out of the room towards the nearest door. I got out a few feet before I smacked into something muscular. I tilted back and strong firm hands grasped at my arms. “Hey slow down, Y/n,” a voice I didn’t recognize said.

I looked up and gasped. The man standing before me I had seen a couple of times in my city walking around. He was so tall with light brown skin and dark brown hair. He wore a skintight dark blue and bright red jumpsuit and his eyes. God his eyes. The red irises stared down at me and seemed to eat me up. He guided me back into the room I just left and I finally took a long look. It was minimalistic in design. All it had was a king size bed, a wardrobe, a desk, a couch, coffee table, another room off to the side and a balcony. He sat me on the end of the bed before sitting next to me. He grabbed my hands with his and squeezed gently. “Now I know all of this is new to you, but I can assure you you’re safe, Y/n.”

“Where exactly am I? W-who are you?”

“I am Miguel O’Hara, but you can call me Miguel. You do not need to know the exact location, just that you are safe.”

“How did I get here? I mean you kidnapped me-”

“Think of it as relocation, not kidnapping, mi amor. As for how you got here…you were sleeping and I grabbed you. I thought it would be the best time so you wouldn’t panic and stress yourself out.”

“Grabbed me?! That sounds like kidnapping to me! And of course I’d panic, I was taken by a guy I don’t even know!”

“Calm down-”

“No! I won’t! I want to go home!”

“You’re safer here.”

“No! I want to leave! I want to go home, please!”

“But mi querida, you were so unhappy there. I saved you! This way I can protect you!”

“Protect me from what?!” “Yourself!”

There was a deafening silence between us. “M-myself?”

“Yes. While I was watching over you I saw how sad you were over everything. I figured you needed some company and this way I can keep an eye on you. You’ll come to love it here, I assure you. Besides, I feel better knowing you’re here. I will protect you, that I can promise.”

I didn’t know what to say. This man claims he’s been watching me and knows what’s best. I stayed silent. Miguel grasped at my hands a bit tighter and he tried to look into my eyes. I kept them forced on my lap. “Why me?”

“Querida, you have such a kind heart. I’ve seen the things you have done to help those in need. You’ll be a perfect mother.”

“Mother? Mother?! What are you talking about?”

“Yes, madre. I have lost so much and so have you. Why not let our two broken hearts mend together?”

“Because I barely know you!”

I ripped my hands from him and stood up. He followed. “But you will come to know me. I will be the best husband you could ask for.”

“N-no. No! Get away from me, you creep!”

I turned and started to run but Miguel leaped on top of me and restrained me with his arms. “Let go of me! Let go! Please!”

“Shh, mi amor. You’re just tired. I understand. Let me help you.”

I struggled until I felt something pinch my neck. Within minutes my body went limp and numb. Miguel picked me back up and laid me under the covers in the large bed. 

I struggled to blink.  

I struggled to breathe.

“Hush, mi amor. All will be well when you wake up.”

He leaned down and nuzzled my forehead. Just as he was going to pull away he gave my forehead a kiss as well.

My blurry vision then became dark.

[huicitawrites]

The Hunt

Yandere! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Spider! Reader

tw: yandere (slow-burn(?)), dark-fic, violence, assault, spoilers for across the spider-verse.

word count: 6,1 k

status: in revision

Prev chapter

taglist: @zeniiin @aikoiya @caramelcandescence @adamsloverboy @slowlymax @reapersimps @jenniferdixon05207 @superduckmilkshake @ceeesxy-blog @wotterblue

Part II

“Stay still and let me squash you like the spider you are!" 

"I think I'll pass on that one, thanks" you retorted as you moved out of yet another attack which could have pierced through you. You were jumping around, feet and arms in sync as you balanced your body to dodge the snapping metal claws. 

The flow of your body conveyed an effortless image, but the fight was far from over. As hard as it was to admit, you were having a tough time figuring it out. 

"Be wary of those, (Y/n)" 

"Yep" 

The foe before you was good at maintaining his distance and using the range of the metal limbs to his advantage. The claws snapped any web you shot at him and easily dodged and covered from your attacks as well. This metal exoskeleton he had was really bothering you- whereas you were used to the fleshy feeling of the mutant tentacles of the mad bio-engineering scientist you knew, this self-proclaimed Otto Octavius’ tentacles were purely made of metal. And it was quite metal, because your fist hurt like hell when you came into contact with it despite your super-strength. In addition, the metal exoskeleton was purely coordinated with his movements. They were calculated and clean, unlike the brash and wild nature of 'your' Doc Ock. [Thank God this copycat came in with a discount, it would have been worse if you had to deal with eight metal octopi-limbs.] 

In the battle's agitation, something odd occurred. Just when you thought it could not get any weirder, his frame shook violently, and he fell to the ground in a flash of strange colors and shapes. His voice quivered, his shout of pain came out distorted and chopped. 

"What the-? Peter, is he...?" 

"Glitching?” he said with doubt, “but how..." immediately, he began to tap away on the keyboard. 

You did not want to waste your time observing the phenomenon, instead deeming this man dangerous, you took the opportunity to confine him in your webs. The webs surrounded his torso and tied extra-tight around the metal limbs. 

The glitching stopped and you neared him. 

"So… Otto Octavius, right? Mind telling me more about Spider-Man?" You asked, but there was no answer. His head was hanging, and his shoulders were too lax, he seemed unconscious. 

"Um, sir?" You closed the distance between you and touched him briefly. "Sir? Other Dock Ock?" You continued, and just as you were about to check if he was breathing, something cool clamped down on your wrist. 

Immediately you redirected your sight and saw a metal claw on your wrist, it was viciously gripping you. Then you heard laughing, making you turn your attention at a now perfectly conscious man with scraps of web around him on the floor. 

"Ah, shit". In cue with the curse that left your lips, you were thrown at full force against the building. Your head impacted first and your body slumped to the ground, a loud ringing sounded off in your ears, and your sight turned terribly foggy. 

You groaned in pain and attempted to get up, but the metal limb got to you first and lifted you off the ground once more. It pulled you near as you thrashed. To escape from the vice grip, you focused the muscles of your arm and began to open apart the metal claw. The metal screeched and folded, yet your efforts dwindled when another claw came at you. 

This time, it wrapped itself around your throat, cutting the airflow into your system. He hoisted you up to admire your writhing form. 

"I just love killing spiders," he grinned wickedly, "after this, Peter Parker is next".  

The mention of your friend sent the adrenaline in your body rushing and your heart strained against your chest. Your body was urging you to move, muscles tightening to contract and exert force- but your eyes began to fail you. Your vision slowly turned opaque due to the lack of oxygen. 

A final metal claw appeared, and you vaguely made out a glimmering edge at the center of it- a sharp blade. 

"Die."  

You heard the words laced with venom and your friend frankly calling out to you, his voice drowned by the fading consciousness of your body. Was this the end? Is this the way it all ends?  

'C'mon girl, keep it up!' 

Just when the point-end of the blade was about to pierce you, an orange glow painted the scene. An engine roared— the blade never came.  

You were dropped on the ground unceremoniously when the vice grip let go of you. Lips parted for a large gasp for that sweet, sweet air. Still, its sudden intrusion made you cough, and as your back shook furiously you felt a soothing sensation on it. Somebody was rubbing your back. 

"You alright?" Another masculine voice, but this time, it was friendly and caring. There were no traces of animosity in it. 

Even before your sight could clear, your spider-sense was running. It was running even more wild than before, and when you opened your eyes to see your savior, you were left astonished. 

Your spider-sense tingled and evened out, synchronizing up with another spider-sense. 

This man was just like you. 

The web-patterned mask, his lenses, the arachnid symbol on his chest. It was all too familiar. 

"You...are me?" 

"No, and yes. I mean, no, I am not you, but I am like you." He hoisted you up by the elbow and put you on your feet. "Anyway, explanations later, now we have to deal with this guy and put him back in his dimension."  

"In his dimension? What-" 

"Explanations later", a female voice interrupted and reiterated. You glanced at the direction of the voice and your spider-sense picked up the same feeling.  

It was a woman with big, dense curly hair, in a stylish leather tracksuit with a matching headband, and she rode on a motorcycle. She did not wear a mask, revealing part of her brown skin, but she had large, yellow-tinted sunglasses in a shape and proportion you knew all too well. 

The woman flashed you a sweet smile, showing her gapped-pearly whites. 

"Now, let's kick ass" and she roared the engine once more and rode straight at Octavius. She crashed the vehicle into him, pushing him back, and stood up on it. As she balanced her weight forwards on the vehicle, she reached out her hand- five web strings much like your own sprouted from the pads of her fingers. She brought the villain flush against the tire of the running motorbike, and he clutched his face in pain. The man who patted you followed suit, and he too shot web, although out from his wrist, and launched himself against him. He delivered a couple of blows, punches, and kicks, as he used his 'web-shooter' -you guessed- to propel back and forth. 

You just stood there, eyes wide and lenses as big as round plates. 

"Peter, are you seeing this?" 

"Yes, and I'm already coming up with some theories" you heard the fast-clicking sound of a keypad going on. "I can't have anything for sure and it's not like I can track back to any tabs on these guys... The best thing I can produce is for you to stick around and find out, but do not lower your guard" 

"I guess so" you said, simply taking in and accepting what was going on as you took speed and jumped, your legs pulling back and your arms stretching at a sharp angle behind your back. 

Your body flew, and you looked down to see Octavius struggling to stand up as the two new heroes faced him. 

Octavius stood up on all metal fours and he growled in rage, "Spider-Man!" his sights now focused on the blue and red hero. 

"You might want to look behind you, Doc"  

The smirk of the lady on the motorcycle and the cheekiness of the disguised man said it all. The dark silhouette of a shadow cast upon him was growing bigger, and Doc Ock turned his head. 

Your wrists extended and web shot from both. The silk rope attached itself to the upper shoulders of the metal limbs and you grasped the webs to pull yourself. With the help of force and acceleration, you delivered a powerful kick on the man’s back.  

Your attack was not meaningless, for your aim was set on the bright spot at the top near his nape. The power source, the connection of the exoskeleton with Octavius’ nervous system. 

A few sparks blew off, signaling your success in delivering the final blow. Well, that, and how the tentacles trembled before collapsing- dropping the mad man on the ground. 

“You!” he whipped his head, “You little- “his words were cut short by web sticking on his lips, sealing them shut. 

“Not a word more from you, please. I kinda had enough,” you exasperated and slumped your shoulders. Your hand rubbed on your head, a little bit of pain still lingering on the impacted area. 

You were about to web him up, this time making sure he would stay put, but the curly-haired woman halted you with her hand. With the other, she slid a disk across the floor which stopped in front of Octavius. Then, laser-like hexagons formed, one by one until the villain was encased fully. 

“Oh, well that’s nice. What is that?” 

“A portable prison we use to capture anomalies.” 

“Anomalies?” 

“People that stray from their original dimensions and pose a threat to the cannon.” 

“The cannon?” 'Geez, keeping up with this new information is hard'. Amid your confusion, the woman laughed. She was not laughing out in mockery, more like she had found your confusion endearing.  

She stretched out her hand for you to shake it, and hesitantly you did.  

“I am Jessica Drew, Spider-Woman, Earth-404.” 

“And I’m Peter B. Parker, the one and only Spiderman from Earth-616B” The man took off his mask, showing excited eyes and a warm smile as he stretched out his hand. The physical resemblance he had to your best friend was uncanny, well, he was him from another dimension, of course. The brown eyes and hazelnut hair, but he was much taller, certainly older and you could distinguish the outline of worked muscles below his spandex suit. 

“(Y/n), this is unbelievable...” but you ignored your friend through the comms as you were just as surprised as him, or even more. 

“Spider-Woman, I mean, (Y/n) (L/n), Earth… 

“Earth-699” Peter B Parker filled in for you, and you repeated his words, taking them in your mind. 

“Wait, wait… So, you are Spider-Women,” you glanced at Peter B. Parker, “Spider…people… sorry, from other dimensions?” you asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” and Jessica Drew hummed in approval of Peter B’s words. 

“And, and you! I know you! Well, I know you in this world. He’s my best friend, and my back-up” the other Peter chuckled. 

“Ooh, the classic back-at-the-chair guy?” his eyebrow twitched in curiosity. “Feels like a demotion though…” 

“Hey!" 

You giggled at his antics, "Trust me, you are very cool in this dimension too. Without him, I would not be Spider-Woman". Your warm smile and noble words caught the brown eyes of Jessica, and for a moment, she stared right at your own not long after her and the other Peter -you will call him Peter. B- shared silent eye contact which spoke volumes between them. Then they both smiled, and Jessica Drew giggled, "This one is yours; I have already recruited a lot. Miguel will bite my head off if I bring in one more" 

"Right, right, you just want to make me be the one to ask him" 

Confused about what they were talking about and who, you were about to ask them before Peter B spoke first.  

"So, we like you- my spider-sense can already tell me you are an amazing hero, (Y/n). Do you want to join us? And the rest of Spiders, a spider-society of our own if you are interested." 

People just like you? Your heart began to beat fast with joy and excitement, this, this was amazing. If there is a whole society of other people, of other You's, Peter B's, and Jessica's, with their own hero journeys, spider-suits, spider-abilities, and voices to be heard- you wanted all in. 

"I'm in!" you exclaimed, physically jumping at the opportunity. The afro spider-woman hopped back on her motorbike, you saw her fiddle with a bracelet on her wrist, a slick white-metal watch of sorts, and the same orange glow from before emerged. This time, you took a closer look- it was a portal, a hexagonal electric-orange portal made of rings.  

Peter B. hopped on behind Jessica, and he looked back behind at you and beckoned you closer with his hand, patting the space left on the leather seat. You smiled wide below the mask and rushed your feet to the vehicle, hopping on. 

"You know it's almost two in the morning and we have work tomorrow, right?" Your Peter's voice sounded. You groaned, "Yes, don't wait for me. Also, didn't take my keys so leave the window open please" 

"Again? Girl, I-" but Peter heard the roaring of an engine and the sound of screeching tires before the loud beep signaling the end of the intercommunication device and he cursed under his breath. He shut down the three-screen PC and kicked his feet to distance the chair from the desk, drawing a large sigh from his lips. He stood up, revealing his pajama set and house coat, and very fluffy set of Spider-Woman slippers you had gifted him jokingly, [wearing unofficial merch of your vigilante best-friend was weirdly hilarious, but they were too comfortable and soft to pass]. He walked toward the living rooms' window, thank God you two were on the seventh floor, and pulled off the lock.  

"One of these days I swear I will lock her out, so she begins taking her goddamn keys", he grunted in between teeth. He dragged the palm of his hand down his features, squeezing down his cheeks and wrinkling them. He glanced at the dreadful hour, led bright numbers making out 1:50 AM.  

'As long as I get in bed before two...' Despite the petty annoyance this occurrence caused, he could not help but crack a smile.  

He looked out the window and observed the city lights, contemplating the night. 

You were incredible to Peter, your best friend. Sometimes he wished NYC were more grateful for the protection your courageous and self-risking services lent. Although he was aware they were out of your heart.  

Peter took a long, loud sip of his mug of tea. It was halfway cold. As he drank and emptied the contents of his cup, Peter wondered. 

"Who is going to protect you when you are too busy protecting others, (Y/n)", his worrisome thoughts were vocalized. Part of why Peter helped you back to the chair was because of this because he was worried about you. Of course, it felt nice and gratifying to put his own grains of sand in the jar of NYC's safety, protecting citizens and loved ones alike, but deep-down Peter felt powerless. 

What if one day someone manages to best you, or you mess with the worst of people? Someone you will not be able to defeat, someone like you? The possibilities, the enemies, could be endless. After what tonight's events revealed the existence stirred something within him, call it his Parker-Sense [turns out there is a Peter Parker who is a Spider-Man as well in another universe- he will have to ask you more about it, tomorrow.]. 

He placed the cup down on the coffee table beside the heater, casting aside his worries along it. Peter knew he could do nothing but help from back of the front lines- he could only hope the gadgets and suits he designed for you would help you in your quest and help you make it back home every night. 

You raised your arms as if you were on the best rollercoaster ride in the world whilst you travelled through the fabric of time and space. It was fast and short, but breathtaking. There was not enough time to process what you had just experienced as you crossed through a flash of light. 

As the flash dispersed, you noticed your surroundings. You found yourself inside a big, big building. Although the design was minimalistic, and the color grey was dominating, you made out figures of diverse colors. 

Not figures, people. 

And not regular people, people like you- spider people. 

Hundreds of them, walking, chatting, hanging around. On the floor, on the ceiling, on the walls, all around the unorganized columns that stretched everywhere in every direction. 

Your spider-sense had already caught up with the gig, because your mind has surprisingly not fallen apart.  

"Welcome to HQ, this is the lobby" Peter B. announced. 

A simple 'woah' was all you could muster as your lenses widened. Jessica hopped off her motorbike and stored it in a pocket-size gadget, somehow but it does not surprise you, and she tapped on your wrist. She handed you a purple bracelet, "It's a one-day pass, it allows you to stay here without glitching. You may have seen it happen to that stray Doc Ock". 

‘So, he was glitching, huh.’ 

You hung the bracelet around your wrist and secured it tight, you guessed glitching was not very comfortable and you did not really want to find out for yourself. Once you put it on, she smiled and turned on her heels, gesturing to you with her head to follow her. 

"We got to go girl, can't keep Miguel waiting." 

"Miguel?" you enquired.  

"Miguel O' Hara" Peter B answered for her as he began to walk beside you "the man behind this society. This-", he twirled around and raised his hands in contemplation as the three of you walked, "-was all his idea. He is the leader, it's thanks to him that we are all able to protect and maintain every dimension stable".  

'Well, he sounds like a cool guy- I should probably meet him if I'm around here, want to make a good first impression’ 

"He can also come off as intimidating and harsh, but he's got no bite. He just has a little bit of fang to show, no more. So don't be scared or feel intimidated".  

'Or not', you gulped.  

Something about the sweet tone in Peter B’s voice, like he had given this disclaimer a couple of times before, slightly unsettled you- but you hid your nervousness behind a small chuckle. 

As Jessica lead the way, or Jess as she insisted you call her, you 'toured' the facilities- a cafeteria with spider-themed food, a gym fit for training the super-strengthen, a villain-confinement area in which you found yourself mesmerized by the different versions of villains you had faced [which was a slightly awkward experience as you tried to ignore the daggers that were coming out from that Doc Ock's eyes and threatened to destroy the barrier that imprisoned him]. You even got to know of a therapy room, which could always come in handy later, who knows. You must make sure to swing by the cafeteria later and try out that Spider-Burger, and certainly try out the super/human equipment in the training center [it is not your usual friendly-neighborhood gym that has a leg press machine loaded with the weight of a train]. 

It was crazy- Peter B. and Jess told you everything about this place. They talked about the multiverse, and how everyone is connected through key moments in their lives as 'Spiders' through cannon events- which were more or less significant events that would shape their paths as heroes, some good, some bad, and some very bad- but all of them necessary. 

The death of your parents. Although you would never get over it, and the belief that you could have done something if you hadn’t been so powerless at that time was still rooted deep within your heart- but the fact that it was destined to happen as part of your life as Spider-Woman brought you some relief, because you felt as if it was not entirely your fault alone. They were cannon events in your life as Spider-Woman, and nothing was supposed to prevent them. 

It was bittersweet- it made you feel understood. Even though you had your own best friend who you could rely on, and you knew you could tell him everything, you also knew he would not understand. There is a great responsibility that comes with this power, and with its burdens, and inner battles that make you feel alone in the struggle, but not anymore. 

You are not alone, you are not the one and only Spider-Woman, and that made you feel you could find other people to bare this struggle with. 

The 'Spider' Peter continued with the explanation, "-- and that's why anomalies are so dangerous, and we have to deal with them, because they can break the cannon and thus destroy the fabric of the dimension that has been disturbed, and with it, millions of lives." 

In cue with the end of his talk, Jess and Peter B. halted their steps. "We're here" she said and pointed with her gaze to move forward. So, you did, you took a step forward. 

Your eyes took in the room, it was dark, and the ceiling was tall. There was a platform in the middle of it, and the orange light was abundant. Atop the platform was a man standing, his wide back facing and disheveled strands of hair facing you- he seemed busy, and too concentrated on the dozens of holographic screens surrounding him. 

There was a loud silence in the room, until Jess nudged Peter B with her elbow, and he blurted, "Okay, okay, lemme’ just" he adjusted the collar of his suit, as if it were too tight on him. He breathed in, calming down his nerves, which made you more nervous because why would he be?  

"Hey! Miguel!" his voice echoed through the room, and he waved eagerly at the man above. It was a slight movement, but you noticed how this 'Miguel' threw his head back and sighed loudly- it was clear that he was annoyed by the interruption. 

"Que ganas de molestar... What is it?!" The first part of his sentence was barely audible, but he made sure to raise his voice for the words that came out in English. His body was now facing the three of you, hands rested on his hips, and body weight slumped on his right leg. 

From that height, he seemed as if he was looking down on you... 

"Give me a minute, (Y/n), you see he looks tough, but he is really easy to crack" Peter B attempted to reassure you, earning a roll of the eyes of Jess which you barely dismissed, and he webbed a corner of the platform and pulled himself up to it. 

Peter B's physical gestures were funny and full of movement, while the man remained stiff and stoic. You could not hear the conversation well, they were meters above you, but you guessed they were talking about you-- 

"C'mon Miguel, she's amazing really, we could use a helping hand and-" 

"There's lots of helping hands already" 

"Yes, but the more the merrier right? I am serious, you're not going to regret it, I've seen her, and Jess too" 

Their talk continued for a few minutes, but then you saw Peter B clinging on to the man's shoulder and you saw him turn his head, mouthing the words 'all right.' 

Proving your guess to be true, you saw Peter B smile widely and he walked towards the edge of the platform, "Y/N! Climb up here!" He called out to you and gestured with his hand, and you did just as he did a few minutes ago. Before you could pull yourself, however, Jess tugged lightly at your mask. 

"You should probably take that off, you don't want to be rude in your first day before the boss, right?" she chuckled. "You're right," you nodded and proceeded with her advice. Your fingers slid under the mask and hooked at its hem, you tugged upwards. Your (h/c) strands cascaded down and bounced on your shoulders, and you revealed a curious set of (e/c) eyes and (s/c) skin. 

Jess ran her hands through your hair, quickly fixing it- after being pressed down by the mask it had a little bit of frizz to it, "You're looking great, now go get that job girl" and she turned you around by the shoulders and patted your back in support. 

You smiled and blushed, a little bit of confidence surging within you, you were nervous. 

[His gaze, something about it, it made you uncomfortable. You did not think much of it, putting the blame on the towering height the platform provided.] 

You twisted your fist around the web, and swung yourself and pulled down with strength, propelling yourself upwards. You made sure to land with grace on the platform, you really wanted to land yourself that good first impression. 

"Here she is," Peter B dragged on the sound of the vowels, as if presenting some grand entrance, he walked behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders. Quickly, Peter B hunched and whispered encouraging words in your ear- 

"You'll do great," he said softly against your ear. You offered a small smile and walked out of his hold, facing the man before you two. 

'Well, damn' you said loudly in your mind. If when you were below this man seemed intimidating, now up close, it was ten times more so. He had a big build, broad shoulders and clear, lined brick muscles under his cyber-punk blue and red suit. His forearms left his hips and were flexed below his broad chest, highlighting the muscles in his arms even more. You looked up to his face and gulped. 

He had a chiseled, handsome, tanned face- his jaw was sharp and so was his wide nose, his cheekbones were high and his eyebrows thick and straight, giving him a mature look. Your guess was that he was somewhere in his 30's, and by the look in his fierce yet tired eyes evinced by the bags under them, you guessed he had also gone through a lot (not like you will pry about it now, that seemed like a death wish for sure). 

Were you staring for too long? You did not notice, at least not until the man before you grunted and shot raised his eyebrows, tilting his face to the side as if granting you the permission to speak. 

You also heard Peter B. cough, not so casually. 

"Uhm, hi! I," you smiled widely, only to earn a slight judgmental look from him, 'oh my god, this is going to be harder than it looks.' To recover from that small awkward moment, you offered you hand to shake it and rephrased, "Hello, I'm (Y/n) (L/n) and I'm Spider-Woman from Earth-699, or so I've been told." 

You recomposed your breath and stance, shoulders and back straightened, trying to come off as confident and polite. "I met Peter B. Parker and Jessica Drew on my night patrol, and it was quite a surprise, but a nice one. They told me everything about this place, and about the multiverse," unbeknownst to you, the glint in your eyes as your excitement began to slip past the professional facade caught his eyes, "and let me tell you I would be more than glad to join the team, it would be an amazing opportunity, and a responsibility I would be more than glad to take over". 

Miguel could tell you were not lying, albeit he could tell you were nervous and a bit fidgety, but your tongue rolled not honeyed words, but ones that were sincere. He genuinely appreciated that. 

Your hand was still outstretched when he called out for his trusted A.I, "Lyla", and with simply calling out her name, it appeared. 

A tiny orange holograph of a person appeared right before you, at the edge of your nose to be precise, like a playful fairy. She wore an oversize coat and fashionable boots, and distinctive pink heart-shaped glasses. 

"Hello!" She greeted, and you were slightly caught off guard. You were about to greet back, but she vanished, and reappeared on your shoulder, and then again, and she reappeared on your other shoulder, and again- this time above you. Your sight tried to follow her, but to no avail as she vanished and materialized, yet you did catch a glimpse of these round devices she had with her which bathed you, in yet again, orange light.  

"Scanning complete!" she announced and appeared for a final time on Miguel's shoulder. "Let's see... Indeed, from Earth-699, and with an excellent track record of ten years! Her cannon remains intact, and if you ask me, she seems to be an excellent candidate."  

"Oh, thanks...?" You were not sure what to say, how could she know all that? It was a heck of an artificial intelligence, nothing you had witnessed back at home, even with Pete's genius, and she even winked at you. She was sentient, that was mind blowing. 

Whatever Lyla, as you recalled, showed Miguel seemed to be some sort of CV. He was looking through a holographic tab, and you managed to see a few mirrored images of you and your New York, recognizing frames and scenes from your life and the people you had come across. As he scrolled down through the screen, he kept taking glances at you, as if corroborating the information, while you just stood there with a bright smile and relaxed features in your face- although you were panicking on the inside. 

The tanned man closed the tab and redirected his gaze on you, his dark eyes piercing right through yours, but his features relaxed and he even offered a small smile.  

"My name is Miguel O' Hara," a smooth, Spanish accent evident on his first name, "and I'm this universe's Spiderman, Earth-2099." He stretched out his own hand, offering it to you and you shook it- his grip was strong and secure, and his hand enclosed over your smaller one. 

He retrieved his hand, but he kept it open, his palm facing up while he showed it to you. A bracelet began to materialize on it. After a few seconds, the materializing process was complete, and you noticed the same device Peter B. and Jess had on their wrists. 

"It's a travelling gizmo, used for hopping to other dimensions without glitching" the A.I filled in. You took it carefully from Miguel's hands, and with the same manner, you slid it on your wrist- it was a perfect fit.  

After the click sound, you admired it for a few seconds before Miguel spoke again, "You are part of the club now."  

His features fell back to a strict, but calm, look on his face, and he continued, "You'll be called for missions through the gizmo, nothing for today but be sure to answer on time. I do not like it when people are late for work", he said harshly, and you nodded. 

"See, I told you it would work out!" the 'professional' atmosphere was cut short by Peter B, who seemed excited as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. "She won't disappoint Miguel, I'm sure of it." He said as he smiled at Miguel, and you noticed how his features fell flat upon Peter B, however you could not help a giggle escape from your lips. 

"Yes, I'll make sure of that", you looked at Peter and smiled, and repeated the same affection with Miguel, who widened his eyes but recomposed quickly, covering for any slip-ups.  

"Well if everything is settled then, I'll be leaving." Peter B. patted your shoulders simultaneously "I have a little girl and a beautiful wife waiting for me, back home." The words that came out of the Spider' Peter made your eyes widen and your mouth dropped open,  

"You are married?! And have a child?!" 

"Yes, they are the most wonderful people on Earth!" he said giddily, then he quirked his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips, he sounded quizzical "Why do you sound so surprised though?" 

"No, no, I'm just very curious- as you are the other version of my best friend. So, who's the lucky girl?" you enquired, still not believing it.

"Mary Jane, I don't know if you know her in your dimension," he said with a warm tone in his voice, you could tell by the way he spoke about her that he was really in love with her. Of course, you knew Mary Jane, or MJ as you called her. She was a close friend of yours, and Pete, and the main subject of your teasing against him. In your dimension, Peter is so in love with MJ but has yet to gather the courage to face her and take her out on a date. 

You laughed, "My Peter would be blushing mad right now. He has yet to take her out on a date and make his move", your words made Peter B remember of the past, and he chuckled. 

"Any advice I could relay to him? I want to be the best wingman there is" 

"Just tell him to be himself, it'll work out. Ooh, but be sure to tell him he must be on time when he arranges any dates! It will save him a lot of trouble!" 

"I'll make sure to tell him", you giggled. Then Peter B proceeded to take out his cellphone and show you pictures of his baby daughter, MJ. You could not help but gush alongside him, she was adorable, with her funny faces, the pictures of her playing around and in little outfits, and as she was doing little mischiefs [you swore right there and then that when the time comes, you would be the coolest auntie ever]

You continued to fangirl over the baby photos until Miguel O'Hara interrupted the both of you, "It's getting late, the both of you. "  

His face said it all- the poker face, and flat lips, he looked tired. Hence you bid farewell, Lyla sat on your shoulder as she helped you with the interface of the gizmo. You managed to open a portal back to your home dimension and bid the corresponding farewells before jumping back home. 

"So, I get that you did like her?" 

Miguel grunted, "Como sea, el tiempo lo dira. Go home Peter, I can't stand you any longer".  

Seeing that Miguel was already switching back to his grumpy humor, Peter B raised his hands in the air. "Geez, Miguel, cut me some slack" and turned around, not before making a portal to his own dimension. With his hands still raised in the air, he teased, "You'll end up scaring the new recruit" and jumped back into the portal before he could face an even grumpier Miguel. 

"Ese insufrible hijo de-" 

"He's kinda right though" 

"Lyla!" 

"See? Geez, you're going to get even more wrinkles..." 

The A.I vanished out of Miguel's clawed swipe, and sticked out her tongue in mockery as the man growled. 

Surprisingly, instead of landing on the hard concrete floor, you landed on the soft surface of what you recognized to be your own bed, and you made a mental note to remind yourself to thank Lyla.  

"Ah, right, the window", you recalled you had told Pete to leave it open, so you went out to the living room and put on its lock. The living room was dark, it had the faint glow of NYC's night. It was a pleasant surprise for you thought you would be arriving at dawn, but it was not the case- you would get more sleep. 

"Five hours of sleep are still better than one" you mumbled and retrieved the used mug left on the coffee table, which you then rinsed in the sink- a small favor for your guy in the chair. 

At last, you took off your suit and after doing your nightly bathroom routine, you plopped on the bed. Sleep caught up with you quickly, it had been a busy and long night- you only hoped you would listen to your alarm in the morning and be able to get to work. 

You shifted in your bed and cuddled into your pillow, your lips parted and let own a drowsy yawn, "I'll have to tell everything to Pete tomorrow" and with that, you closed your eyes. 

Although tired and sleepy, you could not help the fuzzy feeling in your chest- you were so happy for what was to come, hoping for the best. You could not wait to be back at headquarters, but you guess, it will have to wait until tomorrow in the least. For now, you would have to settle for some hours of sleep. 

A/n: EVERYONE THANK YOU SO MUCH! Part I is about to reach 2k notes and I can't believe I now have 1k followers, truly, thank you so much. Thank you to all the people that have reblogged and commented, I can't express how thankful I am truly. I also want to apologize for the delay, I had a hard writer's block as regards Miguel's introduction, I wanted it to be perfect, and it still not is. I also wanted to give reader a good backbone for the story. Anyway, Part III follows suit and with it the yandere! (yes! finally- I know people can get impatient for it bc it happens to me too). Anyways, I hope you like this part, and I am looking forward for your opinions!

Translations: (Btw, I am Argentinean, not Mexican, so I do speak castellano or spanish, but not mexican-slang spanish. I hope my Mexican readers are cool with the way Miguel speaks!) "Que ganas de molestar..." = So bothersome/ so annoying, or literally 'such need to bother' "Como sea, el tiempo lo dira." = Anyway/Anyhow, time will tell. "Ese insufrible hijo de-" = That insufferable son of a-

[self-deprecating-possum]

Fragile Apologies (Yandere! Miguel O’Hara x Gn! Reader)

Content notes: minor spoilers for Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, unhealthy/abusive relationships, verbal & emotional abuse, physical intimidation & violence, minor injuries, implied future imprisonment

Word count: around 4k

Short summary: You thought it would be easy to leave your dying relationship with Miguel. This turned out to be not true.

The sun was setting. It cast a long, orange beam on the wall, and you slowly followed it with your eyes as it advanced, gradually fading.

You purposely didn't look at the clock on the wall, you didn't want to know how much time had passed since Miguel decided to pull you onto his lap, not caring that you were right in the middle of preparing dinner. You were relieved you had not boiled the water in advance. You were not sure if the kitchen would burst into flames by the time your boyfriend lets you go.

Miguel's arms wrapped around you like iron bands. He didn't squeeze tightly enough to cause pain, but even so, you wouldn't have been able to move an inch, no matter how much you wanted to. All you could do for your own comfort was to wrap your legs around his hips and let your hands hang by your sides.

From experience, you knew it wasn't worth begging to be let go, no matter how stiff you were or how important a task you had somewhere else. The easiest way was always to simply wait for him to finish.

Your stomach growled loudly. Maybe… Just this once, he might let you go.

Miguel buried his face in your neck, you felt his hot lips and closed eyes on your skin. Softly, you patted his back with one hand, while attempting to slide the other in the gap between your bodies, hoping he would let you push him away.

He didn't move at all, so you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Miguel” you whispered “Miguel, please, let me go. I'm very hungry.”

Despite trying to move and signal that you wanted to break free, you were ignored. Panic started to set in, but you were trying to overcome it. You grabbed his shoulder to try to push yourself away with full force.

It felt like you were trying to move a concrete wall. He showed no reaction, not even his face moved on the skin of your neck.

"Miguel," you hated how whiny, how sharp your voice was. It sounded annoying even to your own ears. "Please, please, let me go!"

“Enough.”

You immediately stiffened. There was something in his voice that made your throat tighten. You waited for him to say something else, anything, as you lowered your hand to its previous place, but in vain. It seemed like it was enough for him that you didn't protest anymore.

The sun set behind the skyscrapers of Nueva York, and the room plunged into darkness. With a defeated sigh, you rested your chin on his shoulder.

Miguel began tracing playful circles on your back with his thumb, pressing slow, deliberate kisses onto your neck. As if your protest woke him up to the fact that he was holding a living being in his arms. The touch of his skin ignited a flare across yours, and your chest tightened with pain.

If only it had always been like this with him. Or at least sometimes, when you would have been open to him too. He was completely unpredictable, never knowing when he'd acknowledge your existence. From the very start, you knew he wasn't an easy personality, but this was something different. You felt both completely abandoned and overwhelmed at the same time.

You raised a hand to ran your fingers through his hair and felt his hands relax around you. You gently kissed his temple.

Suddenly he tensed, and you stifled a quiet scream. You know he would never hurt you, you told yourself, but you weren't convincing enough. You saw with your own eyes how the iron rods bend under his fingers as if they were made of clay.

You watched every news report on TV and every video that Lyla showed about him. You were well aware of what he was capable of. Even in this moment, he could have snapped your spine at any time, a slightly stronger squeeze would have been enough.

“Okay, that's enough," said Miguel, as if you were the one who didn't want to let him go, not the other way around.

"Hey!"

He pushed you off his lap. You would have fallen if he hadn't caught your arm to hold you. You grabbed onto him to regain your balance while he turned his attention towards his watch.

“Lyla, is there anything new?”

“Yes there is, but I didnt want to disturb you lovebirds. It seems like there’s some new info about Vulture, but nothing imminent. Still no info about his whereabouts.”

Miguel hissed in frustration and then turned his back to you. He started heading towards his own room.

"Didn't you want to make dinner?" he threw back before the door closed behind him.

You just stared after him for a few moments, standing alone in the dark room.

"Asshole," you said to the door. You sounded more tired than angry.

You went back to the kitchen and continued preparing dinner. Your home appliances could have made anything you wanted, probably cheaper (and tastier) than you, but there was a certain comfort in this simple routine that you couldn't let go of. Right now, you needed your hands to be busy as you thought through your situation, likely for the hundredth time in the past few weeks.

You didn't want to live like this. That was the simple truth.

When you first got together, Miguel was different. Not by much, but different. He was still willing to put energy into your relationship. However, since then, there have been more and more threats, work and problems, not to mention the number of Spider-Men he kept track of.

He doesn't have the time or energy for those little things that made you fall in love in the first place. You knew what had happened to him before you met, what happened to his daughter and that other universe. You tried to be understanding, genuinely.

Honestly, if it were only you suffering, maybe you could let go of all this, but it seemed like that Miguel also didn't want this relationship that much. Those tender moments that used to be so common between you, the hugs, the kisses, the intimate touches were increasingly scarce.

No, scarcity is not the right word for it. These moments between you slowly condensed into a single point, first daily, then weekly, lately almost monthly, when you often could do nothing but endure whatever he put you through.

You didn't want to think this way about the person you loved more than anything, but when you looked deep inside yourself, you knew you were starting to fear him. It didn't help much that when he wasn't being controlling, he often just plain ignored you, like he was doing right now.

When it first occurred to you that you should move out, you dismissed the thought. Then again. And again.

And then you didn’t.

It was much easier to find a rental apartment than you thought. Even Lyla helped when you asked her to. She hesitated, but not much, she just said you definitely have to talk to Miguel about it, and you agreed with her. You didn't understand why you haven't brought up the matter to him since then.

Maybe because you knew trying to reason with him wouldn't accomplish anything, as you had asked him many times before to consider your feelings. Maybe because you felt this was a much bigger step than anything you've brought up before. Or maybe it was the guilt you felt over the fact that you were increasingly looking forward to the date when you could finally move out.

This date was tomorrow.

You finished dinner. Two plates of boiled egg sandwiches with salad and a soft drink. Nothing special, you just tried to drag out the preparation as long as possible. You laid everything out on the table and then leaned against the counter. It's been so long since you've eaten together like this. Lately, Miguel ate everything in his own room or wherever he happened to be on a mission.

You took a deep breath, then pushed yourself off the counter. You started walking towards Miguel's room to knock. You thought you'd have to beg again, so you were surprised when the door slid open in front of you.

You entered the dimly lit, cold room filled with humming and blinking computers. You didn't like being here. You never knew when you'd see something on one of the screens that you couldn't get out of your head for weeks.

"What is it?" Miguel sounded annoyed, but at least he turned in his chair to look at you. You saw his eyes searching your hand for the plate of dinner you usually set outside his door, as if he were a teenage kid and you a resigned parent. When he realized you were empty-handed, he furrowed his eyebrows. "Is something wrong?"

You cleared your throat. You felt your heart racing, making you feel like an idiot. You had prepared for this moment for so long, yet now you wanted to turn around and flee. But why am I still so scared?

“No, I just want to talk to you. Can you come out a bit? I've set the table outside.”

Miguel looked like he would rather say he was too busy, but when he looked at your face, it was clear that he knew something was wrong. After a brief silence, he spoke up in a surprisingly gentle tone.

"Just give me a minute to finish this. Lyla!"

You didn't wait to hear all his instructions. You went back to the kitchen and waited for him there.

"If this matter is so important, you can tell me now," Miguel said.

"Let's eat first, please. We can talk after. I promise, this will be the only time.”

It was clear that this did not decrease his suspicion, but rather fuelled it. Nevertheless, he sat down and without any further talk picked up his sandwich. This compelled you to do the same.

As you ate, you tried to formulate in your mind what you would eventually say to him from the myriad of possibilities you had gathered. It proved to be surprisingly difficult, and you didn't feel ready to speak when you finally finished eating.

Miguel leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well? I'm all ears.”

There was something so condescending in his voice that your jaw tightened. You closed your eyes for a moment before you spoke. You tried to keep your voice calm.

“I've been thinking a lot lately. About you, about us… You know this isn't working. I don't know if Lyla told you, but…"

Miguel slammed the table so hard that the cutlery clinked. Your breath hitched. You didn't even see him move.

“Again, seriously? Look, I don't have time for this. I understand that you're not happy with the current situation, and believe me, neither am I. But still…”

“I want to leave you, Miguel.”

He immediately stopped talking. You just stared at each other. The sound of the impact was still ringing in your ears.

Eventually, you broke the silence again.

"I'm sorry. Believe me, I really am sorry. I know we've tried a lot…" I tried, you told yourself, “but I don't want to continue this. It will be better for both of us if we can move on."

“Vale” he said dryly.”And what are you going to do after this? Do you have any idea what's out there in the city?”

"Yes. I've already found an apartment, well, we've found one with Lyla."

Another silence followed. You stood up from the table.

“I'm sorry” you said again. You didn't even know what got into you when you reached out to stroke his hair.

"Don't," he hissed, causing your hand to stop in the air. He turned away from you.

“What are you waiting for? Pack your stuff and get out of here.”

This time you didn't hesitate. You turned around and left to gather your things.

***

Unbelievable. Just fucking unbelievable, really.

A week had passed since you moved out. Miguel refused to use the word ‘permanently’. At first, he didn't even want to believe that you were really capable of going so far as to bring up the breakup, and he never dreamed that you would actually go through with it.

As you packed, he waited for the moment when you'd break down and apologize, when you'd take everything back to let things return to how they used to be.

As it turned out, he waited in vain. Somehow, you had enough backbone not to waver as you always did before. This was his mistake, he should have noticed the signs that this time you are not just planning, but also acting.

His fist clenched at the thought that Lyla helped you without telling him. This could never happen again. When you told him this, he was so furious that he was on the verge of smashing the table between you. He was so angry that he feared he might actually harm you. This is partly why he didn't stand in your way when you started pulling your suitcase out.

But now? Now he was left alone, and he knew he would never be able to truly let you go.

He lay alone in his bed. He managed to fall asleep on the first night, perhaps he didn't even dream, but then he woke up in the middle of the night. He was so used to you being next to him when he slept, regardless of the time of day, that when he didn't hear your breathing in his sleep, panic immediately set in.

He woke up to his heart almost bursting out of his chest, while clutching the spot on the sheet where you usually lay. He hated himself for being so predictable, and he hated you for eliciting this from him even when you weren't near.

Since then, he hardly slept at all. He was so tense that even the slightest slight could push him to the brink of a rage fit. For a while, Lyla didn't even try to reason with him.

He immediately got your address from her, of course, then checked it out for himself. He deliberately didn't go when he knew you would be home, but he couldn't help it, he had to cling to the walls of the surrounding buildings to watch when your figure, shrouded in shadows, got home.

Villains came to his mind. They were the ones who thought like him in this moment. Obsessively focusing on a single target as if his life depended on it… In a way, it was a very petty mindset. Not suited for someone responsible for the safety of others. But that's exactly what he was doing – watching over you and ensuring no threat reached you. Of course, he continued to track Vulture and the others as well, not to mention the other Spider-People, but it was true that they all took a backseat when it came to you.

No, he wasn’t like the villains. He did this because you were important to him. If you had a little sense, you could have seen this too. That's why he waited through this week to calm down enough to speak to you in a normal tone. If possible, it would have been best if you came back to him of your own free will, but if he scares you, he might achieve the opposite.

Actually, what he wanted most was for you to come back on your own with your stupid suitcase, but so far you've held firm. It seemed you were doing just fine without him. Sometimes he even caught you humming to yourself on the way home. You haven't done that in months at his place. Miguel didn't even want to admit to himself that this made a small part of his heart ache.

The problem was that as time went on, he didn't become calmer, quite the opposite. If he wasn't thinking about you, then he was thinking about the things that could harm you while you weren't with him. If something were to happen to you when he wasn't there…

He didn't finish the thought. He couldn't.

A soft beep came from his watch. A reported robbery. Since it seemed the local patrol had already dealt with the matter, he almost settled back down, but then he glanced at the holographic map.

He immediately jumped to his feet. His blood thudded in his ears so loudly that he could barely hear Lyla's responses to the instructions he barked at her as he headed out.

The robbery had occurred near your block. Right next to you.

***

You stood with your arms crossed in front your chest in the window of your third-floor living room. The sirens had long since gone silent and the police had left. The case did not seem serious, and you were not overly worried. These things were not unusual in this city. Before you got together with Miguel, you often saw similar crimes.

Miguel. You thought you would miss him more, but from the very first days you felt the invisible weight lifting off your shoulders. You unpacked the few belongings you brought with you and started creating a new life for yourself.

It was good to occupy yourself with something other than ruminating about your ex. It was strange that you no longer had to think about when you would push him away or make him angry with some insignificant detail.

At first, you didn't even notice the dull thud that sounded like a heavy object had hit the wall of your panel apartment.

Then your bedroom window burst.

You slapped your hand over your mouth before you could scream. You looked around the room, then crouched behind the couch in the corner, using the clatter of the glass shards to cover the sound of your movement. You didn't turn on the light in the living room because you didn't want anyone to notice you watching the police cars, but the light was on in your bedroom. The intruder must have seen this.

Who was currently out in the city? Vulture? Venture? And who else? They shouldn't have known who you are. While you were with Miguel, you barely left the apartment. No one has seen you two in the same place for months.

You covered your face with your palm as a massive thud shook the wall behind you. That might have been the door that led to the hallway.

“Where are you?”

Your breath hitched. This can't be happening.

You almost answered him, but changed your mind at the last minute. You flinched when another blow shook the house. It was the wall mirror.

You pulled your knees to your chest, using one hand to stifle the sob rising in your throat, and the other to pull your phone out of your pocket. Who should you call? You can't send normal cops after Miguel. Plus, you've never heard him like this.

A superhero wouldn't harm innocents… But a superhero wouldn't break into his ex's home like this either. If he just wants to save you from something, then why did he smash everything in his path? No, you felt that you shouldn't come out, but with his senses, it shouldn't have taken much time for him to find you.

As if he heard your thoughts.

“I know you're here. I can smell you.”

His voice was slightly calmer than it was a few moments ago. You heard him take a deep breath. This meant that it was quiet enough that if you started crying now, he would find you instantly.

You didn't dare to move. Tears freely flowed down your face, but you didn't feel it. Suddenly, you became very aware that you really had no idea how good his hearing was.

He stopped in the hallway. What was he doing? Fiddling with something, but what…

Your phone rang in your hand.

The next moment, the couch disappeared in front of you. You didn't have time to end the call before Miguel grabbed your shirt to pull you up. Your back hit the wall, knocking all the air out of your lungs. Your phone fell to the ground, but you didn't even try to catch it. Sharp claws tore up the fabric of your clothes where he held you.

You cried out in pain and terror.

For a moment, you locked eyes with each other before Miguel's red gaze slid down to scan your body. It took a little time for you to realize he was looking for injuries.

When he was convinced that you were unharmed, he slightly loosened his grip, but not enough for you to break free. You desperately clung to his wrist, despite knowing that if he wanted to kill you, nothing would stop him, especially not your weak human hands.

"Please, don't hurt me," you whimpered from the depths of your throat.

He growled. You had never heard this sound from him before.

“Hurt you? Are you out of your mind? I'm here to take you home.”

You didn't dare shake your head, but he must have seen something in your eyes. Suddenly, you felt your feet on the floor again.

Miguel dragged you by the remnants of your shirt like a ragdoll. Your mind was foggy with panic, yet you instinctively tried to dig your heel into the carpet. As you passed by the doorway, you reached out to grasp it, but it didn't slow him down. You felt something crack in your shoulder, then the burning pain flooded you. You had to let go.

You needed all your willpower not to scream when you saw what he had done to your apartment. It was as if someone had let loose a small hurricane. Your knee was scraped raw on the few feets leading to your front door, not to mention the shards of glass Miguel dragged you over. You were so terrified that you barely felt the pain.

You thought he would drag you straight out of the apartment, so you squeaked in surprise when he stopped in front of the door and let go of your shirt. As you collapsed unceremoniously onto the floor, he stood in front of you.

"I want you to pay very close attention to me, because I won't say this again. What do you see?"

You looked at him in shock. You followed his gaze with your eyes as he pointed to the lock.

"The door handle?”

He growled so loudly that your chest trembled. He reached down to roughly grab the back of your neck. His claws left shallow scratches on your skin as he forced you to stare at the lock above the door handle.

"This is a damn biometric identifier. Do you know how long it takes for someone to get a few samples from you? For God's sake, do you know how hard it would be to break in here?”

You were afraid that a stronger jerk and he might just tear your head off. You whimpered like a cornered animal.

"Answer me!"

"Very easy?" you muttered.

“Exactly! And do you know what's the deal with your windows? Anyone can see in, from anywhere, not to mention breaking in.”

Yes, you demonstrated that very well, you thought numbly, but you had the sense not to say it out loud. He let go again, and you took the opportunity to slide against the wall. You huddled up just like you did in the living room only a few minutes ago.

Miguel said something in Spanish, but he spoke too quickly for you to understand. He paced back and forth in front of you.

"I simply don't understand what was going through your head. It's a miracle you're still alive. What if those on the streets decide to break in? What if they follow you to your apartment?"

He roughly ran his hand through his hair.

"I know foresight isn't your strong suit, that's for sure, but even you have to see this. You need to come back with me. It's obvious you can't keep yourself safe."

You were about to shake your head, but you stopped yourself. Instead, you covered your face, and agonizing sobbing broke out of you again.

A little time passed, which seemed like hours to you, but could only have been a few minutes. Miguel stayed silent, and you had no idea what he might be doing. You didn't hear him move among the shards of glass, but that didn't mean much. If he wanted to, he could remain completely silent.

Somewhere in the distance, sirens began to wail.

You flinched when you felt his hand on your arm. His claws were no longer out. You didn't answer him when he called you by your name. You were still crying.

“Damn it” he said quietly. “Please, calm down.”

You tried to hold yourself back, you didn't want to anger him again, but you couldn't. Even though every part of you protested when you felt him gently pull your hand away from your face, you didn't resist. Now you could see that he had squatted down in front of you. He wiped a tear off your face with his thumb.

It was evident that he wanted to say something more, but then he changed his mind. This time, much more gently, he reached out to pull you into his arms. As he drew you close to his chest, you responded by clinging to him and burying your face in his shoulder.

You could feel the movement of his muscles beneath his skin as he let out a sigh.

"God, I missed you so much."

You had no idea what expression he might be wearing. Tears were still streaming from your eyes, soaking his superhero suit, but it no longer seemed to bother him.

"I'll never let you go again."