#dark miguel o hara
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crazy, crazy for loving you
Summary: Loss can make people go insane.
(Yandere! Miguel O’hara x Yandere! Fem! Reader)
MINORS DNI
Warning: They’re both insane and a bit immoral. They are both very, very unstable people. This is a dark story of mutual obsession. (Mutual Non-Con Voyuerism, Mutual Masturbation, P in V, Swearwords, Mutual Stalking, Mutual Non-Con Spying, Oral (F receiving), Dark themes, Cockwarming) YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS ON YOU AND YOU ALONE!
When you see him, it's hard to keep your hands at your side and not run to him. It’s hard not to look at the man that wears your dead husband’s face and not weep like a baby. But you know it isn’t him. No, this man with the war in his eyes and fangs of a beast is not your Miguel.
But, God – God, did you wish it was.
So, yes, you were quick to agree to be apart of his little operation. Quick clipping the gizmo onto your wrist. The Spiderman logo spread along your torso like some awful red target. He knew your name, but it was obvious that you didn’t exist in his world. If you had, you were sure they would have been together. No. The you of his world was dead, like the him of your world. It was darkly poetic.
Lyla had taken a liking to you – his AI. She unintentionally helped you keep track of him; you didn’t stalk just keep track.
Then it happened. The fine click that had truly sent your observing of Miguel corrupt into something else, something darker.
Something had caused the collapse of your world. It was a war, much like the great Titan on EARTH-199999. Your world crumbled before you; you already didn’t have much left after the death of your Miguel but now you had nothing left.
When the collapse of it came, you were not on the battlefield with the other Avengers. You had been in the cemetery, fingers clawing into Miguel’s grave – determined to bury yourself in there with him. The cold mud coated your hands and body, knee digging in. You were about two feet deep, mad with intent.
“Y/N?”
The word stilled you. It was Miguel, you turned your head in a horrible hopefulness. Disappointment settled on your shoulders, in some half-mad frenzy, you’d thought it was your Miguel. But it wasn’t it was Miguel.
“Leave me alone.” you growled. “My world is dying.”
“You don’t have to.”
I died when you did.
“I’m right here, Y/N.”
“No.” you muttered, fingers in the dirt. “You’re below. I’m getting you out.”
A warm body dropped down, covering your back and pushing you forward. You wiggled and fought but felt a pinch at the side of your neck. Your mania subsided, a false peace overwhelming you. Before you knew it, you collapsed in the mud.
It had taken weeks of manic behaviour. They had to sedate you to get you to calm down – barricade and and chain you to stop you from attacking. You’d gone mad.
When Miguel came to visit you, you’d taken a turn for the better.
“I heard you broke Spiderman 8077’s jaw.” Miguel doesn’t seem amused. He stands over you – through the fizzing cage that electrocutes you everytime you touch it. You can’t bring yourself to snarl or fight. You look at him – flesh, bone, hope.
“He tried to make me forget.”
Miguel flinched. “He suggested something to help you sleep.”
“If I sleep, I forget him.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Miguel’s tone was soft and low. You closed your eyes and imagined being home in your apartment, the record player on and rain falling. Miguel dancing with you, dipping you low and laughing on your skin.
The daydream dissolves when you hear the click of your cell open. His voice of stone ordered; “Lay down.”
Instinct, really – the way you move to the cot and wiggle until your back hits the wall. The bed shakes as Miguel’s massive frame sets itself on the bed. He held you, pulling you close. He smelt like your Miguel. Felt like him too. But were all rugged edges compared to the softness of the man you were married to. Your fingers threaded in his hair, snagging a few by accident to bring them to your nose. You tucked some strands into your suit. For later.
For the first time in years, sleep came to you with ease. With that ease came the confirmation of what a gift reuniting with this different Miguel was. You had a second chance. Now, it was time to make use of it. Properly.
***
Miguel had started watching you when your world collapsed and you’d transition to his universe. Now, it wasn’t that he hadn’t been stalking – following – shit – observing you before. He’d just wanted you to get used to the Universe first. Ensuring you had a good identity, a day job and income.
You’d been grateful. So, very grateful.
He imagined that gratitude as something baser, raw and trembling. But he knew not to test the hand of fate. Yet he hungered for you. The devotion you’d shown to your husband, a version of him, was indescribably delicious. He wanted that for himself. Wanted you, all tears, all love. Each aspect of you a memorising thing; greed flooded him at the thought of claiming you.
It seemed like fate to offer you the guest room of his apartment. He hadn’t used it in years, and it was a waste not to let you in. You’d jumped at the opportunity – a perfect gift. You didn’t know what you were doing to him. Yes. Having you in his house, showering, eating, naked, open – mierda!
He took a deep breath to cool himself down. You were still at the dorm quarters of HQ, significantly more sane than you were a week ago when the two of you first slept together. Your scent still lingered in his mind. Lilies and cucumbers, fresh and vibrant. Thick and rich, god – he wanted more of that. More of the security of holding you. More of having you have him. The feel of your body curled into his, the softness of your silk skin breaking the delicate thread of his self-control.
Miguel looked at the room he’d allotted to you. Climbing to a corner to screw in a non-reflective camera. Getting you here was the first step and he was a patient man. Miguel had to make sure the apartment looked lived in. Making sure that some floorboards creaked, chipped at some paint on the walls, and ensured there was a leaky faucet in the guest bath.
His watch dinged. Fifteen minutes away.
Lyla flickered into existence. “Wow. This violates so many laws.”
“Didn’t ask.” he grumbled, wrenching open a panel of the wall to place a listening device.
“You get that for free.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Anamolly on Earth-7834, they need backup.”
“There are thousands of other Spiders to call.” He placed a nail between his teeth, hammering the panel back on.
“Yeah, well, Y’N asked for you.”
That made him pause. Swearing, he hurriedly put the panel back and suited up, tapping his gizmo and falling into a different dimension.
***
You only felt a little bad for deceiving Lyla.
Sure, Miguel would probably be pissed when he found out that you had lied and made his AI lie to him with some clever coding but it would be worth it in the end when the two of you were finally together. You just couldn’t get out of HQ unnoticed without some sort of distraction. So, you figured what could be better than calling in a favour with a friend you’d made while traversing Universes? Felicia was more than willing to play the part, ever wanton for chaos.
She helped you cause a minor anomaly which sent off enough of the Spiders off and allowed you to sneak into Miguel’s apartment. You looked for the master – the only room with a photo in it, one of him and his passed daughter. It broke your heart to know the pain he’d experienced. But you knew you were here now and more than willing to provide comfort and a new child. You’d even let him name the first one.
You weren’t here for that. You were here to plant a few presents. Sticking to his bedroom ceiling, you planted a camera in the corner, near his closet. In his bathroom, by his shower and mirror – you planted another one.
Time was limited. You knew the false alarm would only give you a short time. Before you left, you went through his closet, nose dug into his clothing and inhaling his scent. Sandalwood and oud. God, the earthiness sent a shiver down your spine. Unable to control yourself, you snatched a T-shirt and left through the window. You have five minutes left until your proposed arrival. Five minutes until Miguel consensually lets you into his home.
Foolish boy.
If only he knew what you had in store for him.
***
Miguel hurriedly returned home. Frustration laced his sojourn, as he tried to figure out just how Lyla had mistaken you calling out the anomaly of you being there and requesting his help. It was probably some bug. A minor thing he would fix after he greeted you.
One minute left.
He was cutting it close, climbing through his window and showering as fast as possible. He hadn’t even had time to dry himself off when the doorbell rang, pulling clothes on with wet skin.
“She’s here!” chimed Lyla, a little too cheerfully.
Miguel rolled his eyes. “No soy sordo, Lyla.”
When he opened the door, you were standing there with just two bags and a smile on your full lips. Eyes fluttering up at him with thick lashes and a soft look; “Hey.”
“Come in,” he welcomed without preamble. Miguel purposefully kept the space for you to pass narrowly. You were shorter than him and plush as you passed, buttocks jamming him slightly as you turned your back to pass in. Your toes shoved behind your feet to slip out of your shoes without him asking, he forgot for a moment that you knew him, even if it was another version. There were parts of himself you probably knew better than anyone did.
That made him excited.
“Your apartment is lovely.” You said earnestly. “Where do I put my bags?”
He moved to you, taking the bags and walking ahead to lead you to the guest room. It wasn’t bad. A queen-sized bed and all other necessities for a room. Miguel gestured to the opened door, “That’s the bathroom.Might give you some trouble but you’re welcome to use me – I mean mine anytime.”
You didn’t seem to catch him fumbling – ayúdame dios – walking around the room to get a better view. In the dim light, you looked fantastic, the neon of the outside shining on your skin and the expanse of your perfect skin exposed in those tiny shorts you wore.
Jealously bloomed in his chest. Had you fucking worn those on your walk here? How many people saw you? How many men had seen you in this way? Feral rage gripped him. Miguel set your bags down in the doorway, stepping back before he did something violent.
“You eat yet?” the question came out as a snappish growl which seemed to startle you. He cringed. He didn’t want you to fear him – he just wanted you to know your place as his.
Your brows furrowed. “You good, Miguel?”
“I’m dandy, princesa.”
A delicious blush bloomed on your skin. The honey was not enough to stop it from beaming forward. He wanted to drag his tongue down – to see how far this blush went. “I-I haven’t eaten yet.”
He smiled a slow, easy grin. “I’ve got some food in the kitchen. Eat with me?”
“Sure.”
Dinner went by slowly. Not in an awkward manner but it was agonising all the same. Agonsing to watch you sit across from him, agonising not to touch you, agonising not bit into your flesh and claw into your pussy with his hard cock.
His patience wore thin but he maintained.
The two of you had drinks afterwards, sitting on the couch until it grew too late. You yawned, hands stretching to the ceiling and pointed breasts jotting out through the cotton of your tank top. Your hoodie was abandoned somewhere. He eyed the pleasant curves of your body, the grooves that came from you being Spider-Woman and the softness that came from your natural figure.
“I’m gonna take that shower.” You announced. “Thank you for letting me stay with you, Miguel…I really appreciate it.”
Could you appreciate it with your mouth around his cock? “Of course. Anything for you. Y/N.”
You smiled prettily scampering off into your room. Miguel wasted no time in heading to his own, pulling up a camera feed from your bathroom. He sighed, watching you undress. You were humming along to something, hips shaking and hands running down your body.
He raised his hips, shoving his sweatpants down. His half-hard length plopping out. Fingers encircled the base, rubbing up and down as he watched you move.
You stepped into the shower and he switched the cameras. You sodded your body up, perfect nipples hard and hand slipping between your thighs. You rubbed yourself frantically. Rolling your nipple under your palms as you humped your fingers.
Miguel turned the volume up, his own cock coated in his special essence as he watched you. His hand became frenzied, tighter as it took him closer to an orgasm. His peak came as your voice sounded the last thing he expected to hear.
His own name.
“Meirda…Y/N…you want me too, baby?” He coated himself, groaning as you slumped on the video. You shook off your climax and finished showering, stepping out with a glow. He restarted the video, turning the volume louder – thankful for his soundproof room.
The knowledge that this wasn’t one-sided set something off in him. He threw his head, stroking himself from top to bottom. Desire coiled in his belly, like a snake ready to pounce.
Who was he to deny your wants, princesa?
***
Your fingers rapped on Miguel’s door somewhere close to midnight. You’d timed it perfectly. Your fearless leader hardly slept anyway so you were sure you wouldn’t be intruding. After all, you were sick? Weren’t you? The pills weren’t working, you needed to sleep. You hadn’t slept properly since that night. Lies concocted to make it all work. You just had to maintain your facade of innocence.
You smiled, thinking of Miguel’s little performance for you on your camera. You’d seen him stroke himself over and over at some random video feed. You saw his thick seed spurt out. Saw the girth of his length twitch to life. Fuck. You wanted that.
“Y/N?” Miguel’s voice was hoarse with sleep. You softened your face and frowned. “Did I wake you up? I’m so sorry…I just couldn’t sleep and you’d helped me that night…”
Ever generous, he opened his door wider to let you in. He’d changed form his earlier sweatpants. No doubt it was covered in his own spunk. A shame, really. “Of course, come inside. I’ll get another blanket for you.”
“Oh no.” You showed him the lilac blanket you’d brought with you from HQ. “I have my own.”
“Hmm.” He led you to the bed and slipped behind you to spoon you as easily as he had that night. You hummed, wiggling against him. You made sure to throw your blanket on both of you. You heard Miguel groan behind you, his body shifting and arms holding you close.
The synthetic material was interwoven with your pheromones, wired to set Miguel off. That night he had slept with you, you had plucked hair enough to get his DNA to pattern it so that it made him rut like a beast in heat. It was a chance you were taking. It would only work if Miguel wanted you too – if only a little You grinned, smiling as your payment boiled up. Miguel would be yours, it was what was best.
Even if he didn’t know it yet.
Hours passed. You laid awake listening to him torture himself. Your patience grew thin. Why didn’t the idiot just hold you down and fuck you yet? “Miguel?” You whispered. “Everything alright?”
He murmured in Spanish, nothing clear enough for you to even hear. His hand, large and spanning, set itself on your hip.
You ground your ass into his crouch. “Miguel?”
“Cállate princesa,” he growled in a tone that made your toes curl. An excited smile spread across your face. “I need to take a walk.”
That made your smile drop. “Now? It’s so late.”
He didn’t say anything, his weight lifting from the bed as he went to hurriedly dress. His back turned to you as he tried to be modest. Your eyes dropped to his round ass. Was he really going to go out and fuck some bitch after you did all the work? Not on your watch.
“Miguel,” you dropped your tone, low and purring. “Come back to bed.”
He turned his head, eyes red as they flickered over you. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
Was he afraid of losing control? How adorable. You sat up, letting the blanket fall from you, the muscle shirt that was three sizes too big fell off your arm exposing an entire breast to him. You were being desperate but you’d be damned if he wasn’t going to rearrange your guts tonight.
He paused, staring at you. You almost grinned. That seemed to do it.
He dropped the t-shirt he held and crawled over to you, pressing his forward to your as he inhaled your scent. “Tell me this is real.”
Oh.
You desperate thing. How I will devour you, How I will keep you. “It's real. I need you, Mig. I want you.”
His lips slammed onto yours. Tongue piercing the seam of your lips to kiss you fully. His hands pawed at your body, grabbing and groping at everything. Your sleep shirt was ripped in half as he claimed total access to your body. Your hands touched him everywhere, settling on the hump of his buttocks, pulling it close to your hips. You rubbed your bare crouch against his sweat, humping him with blind need.
Miguel pushed you back, your head hitting a pillow as you watched him take his cock out. The fat, beautiful thing you’d been dreaming about riding since you met him. There wasn’t anytime for preamble – you wouldn’t suck the beautiful thing just yet.
He stroked himself for a moment, red eyes boring into you as he lowered his face between your legs. Miguel ate you sloppily. Lips smacking and tongue licking, he sucked your swollen clit, pressing his index in and out of your weeping pussy.
You gripped his head, arching your back as your thrust your hips up, truth spilled from you: “Eat me so good, Miguel. Fuck, you don’t know how long I wanted this.”
He was too busy enjoying his meal to respond. The lewd noises making you tremble as much as the act. Miguel’s fangs brushed against your folds, before he fucked your pussy with his tongue, pressing his dampened fingers to rub your clit as he licked your insides.
Clenching around his head, your mouth spewed all manner of dark desires, the height of your arousal squirting all along his face. Words failed you as he continued to worship your pussy with his mouth and fingers.
He raised his head for a moment. His left hand cupped your tit for him to suck while his other fingered you to your second orgasm. Thumb rubbing your clit in precise circles as he bit and sucked your areola. Faster than the first, you mewled your orgasm out on his fingers. Miguel let your nipple fall, watching you as he sucked his fingers dry. He sat on his hunches, leaning back as you writhed, quivering pussy begging for more. Begging for his cock.
“You look pretty like this princesa, pretty falling apart in my bed for me. You want me to fuck you now? Want me to spread this pussy wide? Want me to make you fucking bawl? Beg for it, baby.” His face read of cruelty while his lips purred to you. You watched helpless as Miguel looked down on you. One of his hands stretched forward to your wanting hole and slapped it. You whimpered. He grinned and slapped it again.
“I want you to know something before I fuck you,” he whispered, leaning forward, mushroom tip brushing along the seam of your slit. “You’re mine, princesa. You’re my puta. My perra, zorra. Mi amor. Mi todo. And I’m greedy, so when I fuck you – know that it's all over. I become your world and you become mine.”
You bit your lip. The words fell like poetry in your haze: you were truly made for each other. Did he even know how perfect he was for you?
“Ye…s.” You croaked out. “Yes, Miguel.”
His hips snapped, bottoming out into you so hard you screamed against his laughter.
***
Was this heaven?
Miguel had long since thought he was banned from such a place. Long since thought salvation was removed from him. But right now, while he held your waist and fucked his cock into you – he knew he had found it. You looked divine. Your mouth agape and hands rubbing all over him. Your breasts, bounced and full as he made his mark in you. He wanted every groove of his cock known by your pussy. His cock was to be imprinted, moulded into you. You were to know no other but his by the time he was done fucking the common sense out of you.
“My pretty cock dumb, princesa.”
You hummed, heels digging to his ass as his hips snapped. You squeezed him tight but he knew he was leaving marks on your body as he fucked you into his mattress. “Gonna keep you on my cock every day. You'd like that wouldn’t you, perra?”
“Love t-that.” Nails scrapped his back. “G-Gonna cum.”
He could feel that in the tightening of your pretty cunt. The slimy stickiness of your desire echoed in the room, he pinched your nipple making you cry out. “I know, princesa. Do that for me. Cum on my cock.”
Miguel felt your climax, wet and whimpering. You cried beneath him, overstimulated as he fucked you. He fondled your breast once more, hand going between the two of you. He rubbed your sensitive clitoris, smirking as you moaned from the ache. “Good girl. So pretty crying like that. Think you can go again?”
You shock your head, tears forming in your eyes. He felt his balls grow tight but kept at your clit. You shuddered at another shockwave. Finally, he thought leaning forward to cover you until your breasts smashed against his chest. His own release came, loosening the taut feeling that had centred his whole body. Miguel’s hips jerked, making sure his seed took its rightful place in you.
When he tried to roll off, you kept him on. He looked at you questioning.“Don’t want any to drip out just yet.”
“No chance of that,” he muttered, kissing your neck. His hips jerked, as he found himself in a slow rhythm. “I’m not nearly done with this pussy yet.”
***
“I don’t think I’ve ever visited this universe.” you pointed out at one of the monitors. It was an Earth without a Spider-persona filled with cannibals.
Miguel looked to your side and grimaced. “Fuck no.”
You rolled your eyes. “What’s the sense of me being here if not to go to unknown places?”
Miguel huffed, hand sneaking under the skirt of your dress. “Princesa, you came here because you saw me talking to a female Spider-persona and then insisted on warming my cock for the rest of the afternoon.”
“So?” You waved your hand. He was lucky you didn’t her to that universe. Perky little bitch was looking a little too googly-eyed at him. “Maybe I was bored. You ever thought of that?”
“You can always go back out on the field.” He suggested.
You snorted, rolling your hips to make him hiss. His cock twitched, surrounded by your leaking cunt. “The last time I went on a mission I thought you were going to kill my poor partner.”
“He was being a little too friendly.”
“Honey,” Miguel’s hand slipped inside the front of your dress, popping out your full breasts as he slowly rocked up into you. “Peter from Earth-997845 is very much engaged to Johnny Storm.” You wouldn’t mind going out again but you were so comfortable living simply with Miguel and helping him manage HQ. Who was he even talking to? He hadn’t gone on a mission for the months you two had started seeing each other either.
“You’re a hyp–” he stood up, making you bend over the desk, your breasts hitting the cool metal, he pressed the side of your face down as he slowly plunged in and out of you. “–ocrite.”
“Me?” He grunted, hands going up and down your sides as he took his time dragging his cock. “You’re the one who assaulted me in my office just so you could fill it up with your scent. You don’t think I know your tricks, zorra?”
You grinned, working your hips to meet him. “You better make me squirt a few times – just to make sure the scent takes then.”
Miguel chuckled above you, his talons ripping open your dress as he made good on your challenge.
MASTERLIST
I'll probably make this a reoccurring thing. Hope you guys liked part 1. Reblogs and comments are nice.
#miguel o’hara x reader#black!reader#miguel o hara x reader#miguel o’hara fanfiction#yandere! miguel o’hara#yandere reader#yandere! miguel o'hara x reader#dark fanfiction#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara imagines#spiderman#miguel o hara smut#miguel o hara#yandere miguel o'hara#yandere Miguel ohara
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Bound - Miguel O’Hara x Reader
Summary: The crimson phantom steals you to keep for himself… dark!miguel x reader fic. very steamy as always <3
TW: mentions of kidnapping, abuse, and other dark subjects.
two
The scream, it was an awful and otherworldly sound. A thing meant to only exist in the skin glistening terrors that greet you at nightfall. Yet you were very much awake.
Mother…
Your flame dances by the wind of your hasty departure, it had been serving you well as a gold star lighting the ridiculous letter from lord Wickham of Newbury, a town away. You’d met him once, and a handsome thing he was, undeniably. Yet he was also most successfully a bore. A great one at that.
Perhaps you’re just picky with your men. His sapphire eyes and blonde locks tied back by onyx colored ribbons just weren’t enough to catch your steady eye— much to mama’s dismay. He was far from a poor man, quite the opposite. Yet you swore this to yourself, you wouldn’t marry for anything other than true love. The purest, truest love and adoration like that of storybooks. Like that of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy or Mr. Rochester and Jane Eyre.
So you wouldn’t marry at all, you’d decided. For that kind of longing was far too grand for this simple world with its simple people. This you knew well.
The ink stained paper was waxed and perfected. No stroke faltered or bled from its place. An invite to a ball, as if you had anything other than wool tresses and scratchy cloth to don. You’d prepared to have a laughing fit in your tiny cot at the thought of it all, of a man’s stupidity and their clueless nature but— the scream.
You took the steps two at a time, ignoring their complaints by noisy creaks. Shadows of your siblings circling mama in panic greeted you round the corner. All but the moon and her stars lit the wooden home— besides a single wick candle that dripped on to mama’s wrinkled palm.
She’s a mess of sobs and panic when you reach her, immediately snatching the candle from her palm and placing it in its rightful russet holder. You turn your eyes to your sister, nearly the eldest had you not beat her by a month.
“What’s happened?”
The poor thing, her eyes are wide as the moon herself. Perfect, round circles they are— adorned with cyan and onyx to craft the most delightful gaze. Men throw themselves at her, and for good reason.
“S-she claims to have seen a phantom…”
“I did see a phantom you foolish girl! Right there in the window, clear as morning hour. Can’t you see how my nerves have betrayed me you rodents!? I am being truthful!” She sobs again, face scrunched up into an unpleasant expression.
You swallow, knowing full well what this means. Your eyes shift to little Thomas, adorned in a frayed night shirt and a flimsy cap. His bright blue eyes are worrisome, looking upon you for aid. He’s only six.
You place a cool hand upon his reddened cheek before ordering your sister to help him find slumber in his cot.
You know familiarly what this is and how insignificant it is for him to see it. For you’ve dealt with it in all your time here and it has done nothing more than cause you worry and heartache.
Your palms halt themselves, then find courage in the moment to cautiously rest upon the shoulders of a madwoman.
“Mama, have you taken your medication this evening?” It’s a weak, gentle whisper.
First, you believe yourself to be in the clear. She snaps her head up in panic, and the itch of realization that bites at her gaze relaxes your shoulders for a quick moment; but then, she squints. Before you can straighten your back or step apart from her, she slams her hand hard against your flushed cheek— turning it the color of the mysterious bloom you’d seen in the bend.
Your siblings gasp, falling quiet. Particularly your brother is dismayed, for he averts his eyes and clenches an angry fist. You stumble backward, fingertips grazing the heat of the slap with a certain shakiness. It is your nerves that have fallen sickly now.
It is far from the first time, and it most certainly won’t be the last. You breathe out your frustrations and pain through petal-pink lips— allowing the night itself to have them. Reminding yourself that she is unwell in mindful matters.
She is overtaken with sobs again, murmurs of the phantom and a disappearing flower being planted throughout her words. You swipe away at the warm water rolling singular down your cheek before straightening your back and snatching at the candlestick. You’ll remain strong as the eldest should for your siblings, and for your mother.
“I’ll go search for the phantom, mama. You may watch me from the window if you’d like.”
Worry embroiders itself in her wrinkles, and she reaches a weak hand out for you. You ignore it before making your way past your siblings and out into the icy night.
The creak of the window follows not long after, and your candlestick flame dances wildly with the wind, as though they are in a quarrel. As though they are cross.
You squint, midnight surrounding you. Blackness, nothingness.
Yet even so, you make a show of searching the grassy plain for this phantom she speaks of. You don’t seem to find him.
“Oh sweet girl, have you found the creature yet!?”
Your mother cries. You ignore it, inhaling a shaky breath as the wind lashes its anger upon your skin. The grass is dampened and soft, you’ll have to find new socks for they are browned now by dirt.
A bite of breeze steals the flame from you, and your siblings gasp as your glowing features are taken by the night.
“Be calm! It is just the wind! It is creating faces in midnight, mama. That is all!”
A softer sob now, one of realization and perhaps shame. It renders you content, you can rest now. For the hunger of her paranoia and fantasies are fulfilled.
“Follow the sound of my voice!” Your youngest sister Charlotte calls. It is a faint thing beyond the wind. A faint call.
It is as if onyx curtains have been veiled around your eyes. You search the night for a glisten of light and yet there is none.
Your sister calls again, and you stumble over a vine as you walk further toward her humming.
Your eyes shift to the earth’s core to find that odd blossom from earlier on. A strong color of red and blue— and it seems as though it has the power to shine brightly even at the devil’s hour.
You gape at it, grazing your fingertips cautiously against the petals. You must pluck it and use it to lead your way. Yet soon as your touch greets it, it disappears into darkness— into the night.
You gasp, falling onto your bum at its little trick.
It is you know that has fallen ill with ailments of the mind, it seems. The thought frightens you, enough so that the darkness seems to create more faces now. Enough so that you feel far from alone in the dead of nightfall.
Panic constricts you.
“Call for me again, Charlotte!”
A soft hum, but it sounds so far away now. You take a steeling breath and focus, taking only a selfish moment to hesitate before chasing after the sound. Closer and closer, your arched feet press against soft soil as you near the moonlit window.
Your brother holds a match flame so to find you, and you breathe in relief once you near it. Your nightgown is now stained with mud and the earth, you’ll have to sew another one.
The greeting of panicked eyes settle to relief once you near the window— and yet it is not so far after that they widen to saucers again. Another scream from your mother, then from small Charlotte with glossy eyes.
You gasp, turning against the hold of the night to find two crimson orbs staring right through you.
The phantom.
You know those orbs well.
The mysterious townsman who snatched you from immediate death.
Your body finds itself still, but your mind cannot be. It overtakes you, stumbling you backward till your eldest sister’s palm grazes the muddied gown you wear through the window. Reaching for you through the cries.
She cannot snatch you so soon- for the phantom beats her to it.
The sky itself cracks open in a flash of all the colors your mind can create, and a shadowed creature you’re confined to by the night itself snatches you by waist into the painful sight. It is far too bright for gentle eyes.
The sounds of fading screams and panic pools at the bottom of your pounding chest as you’re rushed through a space only meant to make your head ache. You’re certain you’re stuck in a terror now; but your mind is far too weak to bare it. So? You faint.
In the arms of mother’s phantom and his crimson gaze…
🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @tabalittlelong @iitangerine @queenb27sblog-blog @dprmooni @neptunieesworld @cyd2301 @amelialysm @justanothers-things @heartfeltlonging @coralreefses @knightowl019
#atsv miguel#miguel 2099#miguel o'hara#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara across the spider verse#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#dark!fic#dark!miguel o'hara#dark!miguel#miguel smut#miguel imagine#miguel o hara#miguel x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel x you#miguel x y/n#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara masterlist#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel o’hara x you#sw&p fic#silken webs & pirouettes fic#spider man 2099#spiderman 2099
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Tell Me (Repost)
Dark!Miguel O'hara x fem!reader
Masterlist : Taglist
I posted this months ago and by the morning it only had like 6 likes by the morning lmfao and this was during the peak of Miguel days and I thought "wow this must be terrible" so I deleted it. However, it did well on AO3 so i decided to just report it.
Miguel tries to extract information from you via any means necessary
DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
OH MY GOD DO NOT EAT IF YOU DONT LIKE DEAD DOVES
This is not like The Wrong Way where Joel alternates between horrific and soft. THIS IS JUST PLAIN DDDNE.
WARNINGS!!!!: DDDNE!!! Rape, non con, torture, verbal humiliation, degradation, forced anal, biting (fang baby), literally idk what got into me here, it's literally porn with no plot. I almost always have so much plot. Victim blaming, psychological torture, I want to reiterate its literally rape.
I wanted to write for Miguel bc he's a hottie and spiderverse was amazing but lets be honest, its pretty popular on tumblr rn. However, I refuse to write without inspiration, so I won't just write something just bc it's popular. Besides, this may have gotten so far on the dark side it's not even gonna be liked XD anyway, i had genuine inspiration and I went with it. All apoligies.
700 words
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“Tell me.” Miguel O’hera grabbed your throat as you hung from the ceiling. He had been trying for hours to extract the information he wanted, using multiple forms of torture and you were exhausted, but refused to tell him what he wanted. When his hands began trailing your body, you knew the next method would be psycho-sexual.
“I’m not…” You gasp as a finger grazes over your tit. “I’m not telling you anything…”
“Hm.” was his non committal answer before cutting your ropes, watching you tumble onto the concrete. “I guess we’ll see.”
Only taking a moment to breath, you try to scramble away, but to where you aren’t sure. There’s nowhere to go, and a large man climbs on top of you hold your wrists together in on fist as his other undid his pants. You writhe underneath him, but screaming is useless.
“Get off me!” You kick and twist and scrape up your whole body that's exposed in the bra and underwear you were left hanging in, the cold floor ice against your skin. “GET OFF!”
“Oh, I’ll get off alright…” Miguel mumbles as he rips your bra off. “Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll stop.”
You weren’t sure you believed him, but you didn’t want to give up the information. Even as he strips off his pants, his insanely large frame keeps you pinned to the floor. There is no escape.
Miguel mumbles and scoffed ‘fine’ and two hands rip off your underwear, tossing the scraps aside. You scream as he pushes his fat tip into you, ripping you open slowly, slowly… allowing you to feel every inch, every vain, every hard and warm and pulsing part of him. “You can still stop this, carino.”
“No!” You whimper, deadset and determined to stay strong. You wouldn’t let him break you.
“Have it your way.” Dragging his hips back, Miguel pauses before he thrusted into you band fucks you mercilessly, you can feel the raw pain of him sliding in and out of you as you cry out, initially dry. The most humiliating part, however, came after several minutes of hm trying to coax the information out of you, slapping your face until your mouth bled, when he began laughing. “Oh my god, are you getting wet from this? So fucking pathetic.”
Miguel looked down on you, your body wracked with pain and jolting with each thrust, he could practically feel your will breaking. “You probably enjoy this, do you play out scenarios like this with some pathetic little dicked man? Does it turn you on, knowing you have no choice? Little whore been fucked so many times she needs to feel like she’s being forced just to get wet?” His chuckle was dark and cruel as he continued to taunt you, your tears falling down your bloodied and bruised face.
“You’re lucky I’m even touching this used up cunt.” Miguel leans over, licking at the tears and blood and spit on your face. “Tell me, and I’ll stop fucking your pussy. TELL ME!” He screams, painfully loud in your ear.
You break, telling him what he wanted. There wasn’t a part of you that really believed he’d stop, so you were surprised when he pulled out.
When he rolled you over, you began to ask. “What are you-” but are cut off by him ramming his cock up your ass. “FUCK!!!” You scream. He wasn’t lying, he did stop abusing your pussy, only to rip our asshole open.
“God, look at you…” Miquel sat back to admire his work, smirking at the way your ass contracted and spread around his thick cock. “I’d say you were made for me, but…” Chuckling, he slaps your ass. “But I can see how much you’re struggling to make room for me. No ones ever fucked you like this, have they? You should be thanking me.” Fangs dug sharply into your shoulder, drawing out more blood. “SAY THANK YOU!” Your ears rang with his screamed words, before another bite. “SAY IT!” He bit and screamed and bit and screamed until you finally cave.
“Thank you!” You sob, and he cums inside your ass with a loud, strangled groan.
Only when you shudder from the cold do you realize he’s gotten off you, his impossibly wide frame no longer covering you. Miguel tosses you a blanket, muttering something about how he may just have to keep you now.
******************
Eeeeeep well if you like it, please consider rebloging or leaving a comment!
#miguel ohara reader#miguel o'hara reader#miguel o'hara#dark miguel o'hara#dddne#non con#tw noncon#miguel ohara smut#miguel o'hara smut#miguel ohara x reader#miguel spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o hara#dark
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Presenting….Dark Side! Miguel AU
Made my own to add to everyone’s collection of Miguel AUs. Also, I imagine it’s a Quinlan Vos type situation where’s he’s deep undercover, because he does what needs to be done (Dark Disciple or Legends Republic comic version, you decide!)
#miguel o hara art#miguel spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel fanart#Miguel o Hara au#dark side#dark side Miguel#spiderverse fanart#across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse fanart#atsv#atsv fanart#spiderverse#spiderman 2099 spiderverse#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 fanart#fanart#AU#star wars au
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Does anyone know which movie/series this is
#azriel x reader#acotar smut#rowan whitethorn x reader#miguel o hara#dark!azriel#azriel smut#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#smut#kiss#18+ only#18+ content#türkçe#russia#telenovela#doğu türkistan#movie#tv series#series#so hot 🔥🔥🔥#hot nude#hot#love#bd/sm kink#lingerie#agent provocateur#love quotes#couple#“bed#christmas
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Am I getting more crazier or are they kind of similar?
Estou ficando mais doida ou eles são meio parecidos?
#miguel o hara#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#shadow hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog#shadow#atsv#across the spiderverse#spiderverse meme#memes#meme#multiverse#sega#sony#marvel#fandom#games#series#movies#characters#personagens#team dark#atsv miguel#crossover#sonic series
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dark genesis and 2015 miguel and lyla shenanigans :)
#bruh i be drawing the same poses and expressions n shit i am so sorry#holofang#spider man 2099#lyla#miguel o hara#dark genesis
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W E L C O M E ! ! !
F E E L G O O D I N C !
21 • SHE/HER • 🇳🇬 • ATL • ALT • ANGST ~ FLUFF ~ SMUT ~ DARK! • BLACK!FEM!READER • X READER FICS
PRINCESS BUBBLEGUM SUPPORTER!
M D N I 1 8 +
AO3
Masterlists » General/Main ‹› FFL ‹›
W A R N I N G : T H E E A N G S T Q U E E N
↳ Sad Stories with Sadder Endings
Rules…
~⌁ ~⌁ ~⌁ ~⌁ ~⌁ ~⌁ ~⌁ ~⌁ ~⌁
JuJutsu Kaisen ৹ Across The Spiderverse
#across the spiderverse#jjk#masterlist#toji#hobie brown#about my blog#about myself#tags are what i write for#about my writing#spider punk#toji fushiguro#miguel o hara#ryomen sukuna#black reader#dark content#ao3#ao3 writer
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My spidersona would bug the life out of Miguel I can tell you that much
#my art#miguel o hara fanart#miguel o hara#atsv miguel#atsv fanart#atsv#spiderman 2099#spidersona#my dynamic with him would be sunshine character x dark character#yes I know it’s cliche just let me have this please#he needs a friend and so do I#also please ignore the ungodly our I am posting this at#I think I went manic when making this#literally drew colored and animated this in one single night#my sanity is not well but I could be worse#anyways hope y’all enjoy#don’t think y’all read this but if you do I love and appreciate y’all :)
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𝘽𝙤𝙧𝙣 𝙏𝙤 𝙆𝙞𝙡𝙡 ➫ 𝘼 𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙊'𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙖 𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚.
PART THREE
CHAPTER 7- THE ARENA
Awestruck, I looked to Miguel. "This is all yours?!" I twirled my body to stare at the exercise whips and circular weights hung across the sides of the room.
A cocky smile materialized on his lips. "Yeah well, my body doesn't just come from my powers."
I stared too long at the body he had referred to, and felt my ears turn pink. When I turned back to the wall, I could've swore he laughed softly. My face grew even hotter.
In this room, deep underground from the other Spiders, I had never felt more nervous around Miguel- including when I was in his bedroom alone. My nerves jittered along my body, creating a warm, fuzzy feeling tickling my cheeks. The only sound in the room was his low breathing.
Stop. Stop. He's the leader. He's probably around double my age. It's wrong.
I turned around promptly, and held my chin up. "I'm gonna fight for you?"
He nodded slowly, confusion flickering his expression.
"So then train me, handsome." A smile tugged at my lips, ones I had glossed with red oil for the occasion.
And no; I wasn't dressing up for him. I was just....presenting myself in a civilized manner.
He clenched his jaw, and I saw his stomach tighten from his breath.
Miguel locked eyes with me, and my breath stopped.
My insides heated with such potency, I scrunched my eyebrows faintly.
His stare was shattering me, breaking me into hot liquid, melting into the linoleum floors under him.
I wanted to be under him.
I swallowed the words in my mind, and shook my head. "What are you waiting for?" The sultry tone of my voice was unfamiliar to me.
Miguel didn't waver. He grabbed a set of boxing gloves, and tossed it to me, before squinting his eyes. "You gonna wear that?"
I looked down at my Spider-Man suit, complete, excluding my mask I left in my quarters. "Yeah, I mean...it's the only thing I have." I began adjusting the gloves over my palms, and Miguel laid a strong hand over my wrist. I had never noticed how powerful his hands were.
What was I thinking? Why was I thinking these things for him?
I'm falling. Too fast. I shouldn't. I won't.
"Wait. I'll get you something to change in."
He strode to a storage room by the boxing ring, and slammed the door behind him. I shuddered. Did I piss him off again?
He opened the door, and came out with a pair of folded clothing. When he handed it to me, I noted it was old, worn out grey sweatpants and a faded band t-shirt, for god knows whatever music they listen to on this planet. I fiddled with the drawstring of the sweatpants.
"Where do I change?" I bit the top of my lip- a pesky habit of mine that ends up with peeling skin all over my tongue, throughout any season.
Miguel turned around, to the point where his back faced me. "Quickly," he said smoothly, covering his words with boredom.
I felt my face drop into an offended expression. I think my body was nice enough, to see a little more hesitance when Miguel turned his body.
I slipped into the clothing, and coughed quietly to let him know I was done. Miguel looked at me over his shoulder, for one-two- heart beats, and then continued walking to the ring.
We made it to the boxing area. Miguel dropped his gloves on the floor.
"What are you doing?" I ask, softly.
Miguel looks at me casually, like my words meant nothing to him.
He acts like I mean nothing to him. Just a pawn, a pawn in his game.
No.
I'll beat him at the game. Everything he's good at.
I need to remind myself that the only reason I'm doing this is for myself- for my mother. The only reason I'm fighting by his side is so my home planet doesn't go to flames. I'm not doing this for him.
A cold feeling settled in my stomach, and I licked the lip oil off my lips. But before I could start smart mouthing him- multiple pesky remarks on the tip of my tongue- I realized why Miguel had took off his boxing gloves.
He pulled the shirt off his head.
Pale fluorescent lights shone from above his head, casting a strong, bright spotlight on his body.
My god. If I thought I had seen his body last night, this was outright vulgar.
His chest was chiseled, so strong I could see muscles from under his skin- his abs sharp and defined, the thick v shape trailing down his stomach.
He breathed in, heavily, and dropped the shirt on a rope of the ring. I didn't even bother turning my focus to it. I wasn't even ashamed of my very visible staring- at his insane physique.
At this, Miguel tilted his head to the side, a soft, smug expression filling his face. It was a game, a test, a taunt.
I bit my gums to keep me from saying something very, very stupid.
So maybe I was attracted to him. Maybe I can't stop staring at the way his abdomen retracts with each breath he inhaled. Maybe he's the most beautiful man I have ever seen.
He is art, simply. His body looks as if it was chiseled by a hard-working sculptor, perfectly crafted to fit his ideal.
"You like it?" Miguel's voice was rough, sending tingles of cold heat bouncing down my spine, pounding in my heart, and in my thighs. He stepped closer, drifting his gaze down my body, and a thrumming appeared my stomach.
"What?" I staggered backwards, hitting a thin rope on the curve of my back.
"You heard me. Don't play dumb, princess. You're looking at me." His mouth flickers up, and his eyes seem to get deeper in a trance of heaviness.
I blink, and shake my head. "I wasn't-" My voice caught in my throat when he stepped closer, dropping his hands on the rope on each side of me, pinning me to the corner of the ring.
Just like he had done last night.
He stared down at me, so close that his hair brushed my forehead.
"I think you would do well answering me, mi bonita zorra. I am the leader, right? Show me you remember that." He lifted my chin with his finger, too strong for me to shake off.
Anger was flaming in my stomach now- mixed with a strange sense of butterflies. And how that was- I didn't know, because I was hating this arrogant fucking dictator even more now.
Hell no. I won't give in to his orders.
Instead, I stretch my body backwards, moving the rope slightly to give me space. "What does that mean?"
He rose his eyes to mine, flame burning in the pit of my stomach. "Hmm?"
I struggled out of his grasp, and finally pushed hard enough for him to let me go, forcing me to tumble back in the center of the ring.
"What does "bonita zorra" mean?" I ask, strapping my gloves even more. "Whatever it is, I'm gonna guess I'm not a "bonita zorra." I scoffed at the sound of unfamiliar dialect in my mouth.
Miguel slowly- evilly, splits his face in a fanged smile. And he slid his gloves on.
"We'll see, princess. We'll see."
CHAPTER 8- THE SEDUCTRESS
I've been in this building for 2 weeks now.
2 weeks of doing the exact same thing.
Gwen promised that I would see my mother soon, but so far, nothing. And after my escape attempt, there is no chance I'm getting a watch anytime soon.
My heart feels like it's dulling, only to be jolted back to life for a couple seconds when I see him.
The highlights of my day are breakfast, sitting with my friends by the forest at dawn. Often, I'm eating whatever protein filled shakes or cereals Miguel slipped into my diet.
It tastes like shit.
Hobie says it looks like it too.
Sometimes, after curfew, Hobie and Gwen sneak into my room, and we laugh at inside jokes I'm beginning to get. We drink cherry wine the workers stock in the mini fridge every day, or we tell stories from our world- our planet.
I'm beginning to come to terms with the multiverse, even if it is slowly.
But besides that, I feel lonely.
I feel afraid.
I feel exhausted, and sore.
But most of all, I feel furious.
Every single day, 3 hours each, Miguel has been doing one-on-one training for me to prepare me for the mission with Mike Reiner.
Every day, I'm practicing battle plans, learning psychological ways to seduce the anomaly for information.
Every day, Miguel is putting me through vigorous conditioning, with a side of snarky comments on me or my lack of boxing abilities.
In these past weeks, my hate for him has only grown. His arrogance makes me want to tear off his smile off and shove it up his ass.
But my hate is not the only thing that had grown during the time I had with him alone.
A horrible, burning, exciting feeling is infecting me.
A feeling of looking different when he's around, smiling prettier when he looks. Hoping that he will stare at my body when I wear a shirt one size too small, and yet feeling anger when he does.
I'm being stretched against my limit by Miguel, and a part of me, hiding under all the lies I show to him, wants him to feel the same desire I do.
It's a horrible, disgusting, addictive feeling, desire. I want to rip his clothes off, and I want to rip his skin off.
He's driving me crazy. Distracting me from the purpose I'm even in the Society now.
I'm homesick. I'm wondering what my mother thinks every single hour of every day, hoping she doesn't think it's her fault. I miss my school, and my back-and-forth bickering with police officers as Spider-Woman. And I'm praying my mother has the monsters handled so the city stays safe.
I hear the whiny ringing of my alarm clock near my bed. Groggily, I slam my hand over the button, and blinked sleep off of my eyes.
Dawn spills through the forest outside, bright light warming my eyelids.
The view is the only thing keeping me sane.
My stomach drops, a pool of worry. I realized what today was.
Our plans for Reiner were finally coming to be. Today, we fight him.
I'm supposed to find a dress to wear, and Gwen offered to help with my makeup, changing me into a perfect doll that Reiner will play with, before we capture, interrogate, and kill him.
As I got up, I stepped into the tidy closest Gwen helped me organize. She told me the money from this place comes from multiple sources- selling villain corpses to science labs, money from fans, even merch. But the sheer amount of riches the Society has still boggles my mind.
The large closet is filled with clothing- each shelf a different type. With the amount of people still wearing Spider-Man suits around here, I'm shocked that there was even choice in wardrobe attire. I graze my eyes over the color coded dresses- silk, red, or soft and cotton.
My eyes lingered on a short, tight black bodycon. A thought flashed through my mind.
What would Miguel think if I wore this?
I wondered how he would react. Would he tell me I'm pretty? That I'm trying to distract him? Or maybe that I'm just doing something unnecessary?
He confuses me so much, makes my stomach swirl and harden. I don't know what to think anymore, but all I feel right now is annoyance at his childish and angry side.
And maybe a little bit of lust. But I can't control that! He's shaped like a dream- one I don't want to remember, but I so blatantly do.
I grab a pair of tight legging shorts, and squeeze my body into a pink crop top.
God, I look like a lululemon ad.
I undress, and in defeat, stare at the mirror. I'm tired of trying to impress him. It's like he never notices me- in any way. If I try to beat him in combat, he wins in less than a minute. If I try to be friendly, he scowls and makes snarky remarks. And if I try spark attraction from him-
I shake my head, wiping the thoughts from me brain, and choose to wear something more me. Black basketball shorts and a loose black sweatshirt, ingrained with navy flowers on the sleeves. I tied my hair in a classic low bun, and looked at the girl in the mirror.
And smiled.
Who I am right now is all I need to be. I couldn't care less about Miguel. Totally, so very uninterested in him.
(Yeah, right.)
I stare a minute longer.
Then I dab dark gloss on my lips before I leave.
˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
Miguel meets me in the cafeteria, as he usually does. He doesn't look up from his watch.
"Lyla? Find the file on Mike Reiner."
The familiar, warm light of a small female jumps around him, projecting and glitching in the air.
"Say please!" Lyla taunts, dancing around his shoulders.
Miguel groans in frustration. "Please, Lyla. Fucking please."
Lyla nods, and bounces into thin air. "Thank youuu!"
I chuckle softly, and slide into a bench, rapping my fingers. Miguel looks down on me, his cheekbones harsh in the lighting.
"What are you wearing?" He asks, more of a insult rather than a question. I inhaled sharply. I'm sick of trying to win him over with crop-tops. Obviously, he's not as sex-crazy as the boys in my high school.
At least, I think.
"It really doesn't matter. I'm still gonna fight in this." I shoot back, defensively.
Miguel dropped his eyes to my legs- the only part of me still visible. Behind my sweatshirt, my body warmed from his stare.
"It's different."
"And?" I questioned, sliding on the table to get more height on him.
He scoffed, and began walking the other direction. I quickly trailed back after him.
"And?!" I asked, more emphasis on the word.
He stops in place, and looks down at me, in the beginning of an empty hall. My breath caught in my throat.
The way he was looking at me was...strange. His eyes seemed to almost hold a very familiar emotion, warmth in the red.
Desire.
It stung, forcing me to look away.
Exhilaration was bursting in my chest. Maybe I'm not imagining it, and he could actually like me.
Why do I want him to?
"Scarlett." His voice hummed, a low vibration tingling my fingertips. I turned, staring at his tall body at first, then arching my neck back to face him.
His mouth twitched, eyes blazing with danger. Migue moves his body to corner me, like he always does, but instead of backing up, I stay as rigid as stone. I can tell this displeases him, but at the same time, Miguel's eyes light up even more.
"I only meant that the less you wear, the more I find pleasure in seeing you." His mouth opens in a grin, and he slides his tongue over his fangs in a predatory movement.
Oh
My
God.
My eyes involuntarily widen, and Miguel continues forward, as if what he said was as ordinary as a welcome, or a greeting.
I can feel my heart hammering, in my rib cage, my throat, and somewhere else I don't want to name.
Our walk to the arena was silent, but the energy in the air told me enough.
Yes, Miguel felt the same way.
And he sees it as a game.
My fists tighten.
This is what I'm good at.
I'm gonna win whatever he's trying to play.
I think he doesn't realize that I'm the one with the true power here. So, I'll show him.
And fuck, I'm going to enjoy it.
We arrive at the arena, and Miguel slams the doors, sealing us in the room. I grab my gloves from a shelf, and feel Miguel staring down my back.
Okay then. Attempt Number One to see what will painfully turn Miguel on.
A classic. I drop my gloves, and feign a soft gasp, while bending my body down, supporting my hands on the shelf. When I pick them up, rolling my upper body up seductively, I turn to see Miguel's expression.
Only, he's not there anymore. Where Miguel once stood was empty floor. My heart clacks under my ribs. I'm ashamed to say how the fear almost...excites me.
And then, I feel a horrible, slow, burning trail of warm hands pushing around my hips.
Miguel's body pushes against my backside, and I shudder- half with fear, and half with thrill.
I know how wrong this is. I know it, but this is the only entertainment I'm getting.
And it feels
good.
I arch my head up, and breathe sharply, resting my neck on his chest. He leans in, his hair dropping to my eyes.
He smells good, like spice and warmth, and it's all making me fall into a frenzy.
"Oh, no, mi linda zorra. You've been acting bad, haven't you?" His voice was thick with mockery, so strong I almost wanted to pull away from his touch- but not strong enough.
"Making you test those seduction techniques on me, huh?" His last word ended in a growl, then he whipped me around and grabbed my wrists, pinning them over my head.
My heart thrummed. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Maybe I shouldn't be messing with him, because if I know anything about Miguel, he's really fucking strong.
I stared hard at his eyes, meeting a similar stare back. Lust was burning in my core, along with pure hate. How could he do this to me? Do whatever he wanted just because of his unnatural strength? I wanted to win this. I had to.
I let go of my stiffness, and melted to his touch, sinking my eyelids to form bedroom eyes.
"Do they work? Am I..." I tilt my head, changing my voice to sound sultry. "Seducing you?"
He sucks in a breath, as if what I said has hurt. I felt his smile on my cheek, and he took a hand and lifted my head up with his finger.
One
finger.
"No." His voice were so soft, the harshness what he said hit me a second slower.
Anger boils in my stomach. I growl, and kick my knee up, into his stomach. He doesn't waver- as per usual, due to his super strength, but he takes the signal to release me, and I storm away, pushing the boxing gloves over my fists.
I feel mortified. I can't believe I just made a move on him, and he rejected it. My face is flushed with embarrassment- but my words were steady.
"Okay then, let's fight, Mr. O'Hara." My voice is laced with an edge of sarcasm, but my fury is evident.
He chuckled behind me, and I heard the strap of boxing gloves.
I swing my body into the boxing ring, and reposition my bun. I'm so, so excited to destroy this bastard.
Miguel is wearing a worn out black shirt, tattered at the short sleeves. His shorts look so good on him, I don't even choose to look. Because I know I'll stare at a certain, unusually prominent region too long.
He smiles, and raises his eyebrows.
"Let's fight, princess."
I lunge first, kicking him in one area I so badly wanted to touch. But needless to say, I'm satisfied on how I did it. He crumbled to the ground in a roar, slamming his fist on the floor.
"You fucking- my dick is off limits." He groans, and shuffles his body to the side of the ring, and I am relentlessly cackling with laughter.
"I thought you said no rules!" I laugh, and grab the rope over his head, kneeling in a squat. "Did I hurt the boss? The big man? The-"
Miguel swipes a punch in my gut, and I curl over, holding my torso. Normally he hits hard, but obviously without the sense of true power he holds.
Yet he just hit me with an unbearable amount of force.
"Fuck-" my voice caught in my throat, and he stood over me, grabbing my hair, and jerking me to my knees.
"That-" he paused, tilting my head to meet the bright lights, and hard anger ingrained in his face. "Is an order." He spoke calmly, carefully, and I yelped, as he quite literally dragged me to my feet by my hair. My face was burning with humiliation. I stepped back, and turned around so he wouldn't see the pure hatred on my face.
Without looking back at him, I abruptly stepped out of the boxing ring and ripped my gloves off. I forced the doors open and ran to my room, unaware, and careless about the people and animals moving out my way. I didn't stop running until I met a familiar hallway, and closed the door to my room, breathing heavily, and dropping on my bed.
That evil, beautiful man. I wanted to do more to his dick than just kick it, and I hated it so much. I hated the way he distracted me.
I hated him.
And tonight, we take on Reiner. Tonight I'll have to seduce a man under Miguel's watch.
And then a horribly perfect idea formed in my mind.
I figured out Attempt Number Two of making Miguel lose this game.
Only this time, it will work.
CHAPTER 9- THE CASANOVA
It was time.
I was still on bad terms with Miguel after this morning, but my stomach is flopping, and I can only think about the crazy thing I'm about to do.
I have to play a part for Mike Reiner, be something he wants me to be.
And he'll like it.
What I'll do after meeting Reiner, I know Miguel won't like.
I stared at the black dress over my frame. I've never been curvy, or petite, or anything that men should be able to sexualize, but of course that doesn't stop them. I do have boobs even if they don't show too much, and I have a waist that is technically, in proportion, smaller than my hips, but it isn't visible.
I'm a stick, is what I'm trying to say.
So I can't fathom the reason why Miguel chose me. Why he looked at my body and felt confident about making me into a sex symbol.
But I had to admit, the dress looked good. Cleavage modestly showed through a too-low neckline, and my stockings, with black lace on the ends, rode up my thighs.
I was even wearing the lacy underwear Gwen sneaked into my closet.
My web shooters were on, but just to be safe, I slid two small knives in garters on my upper thigh. I don't want Reiner to have the upper hand.
Miguel explained the plan over and over again. It was simple- infiltrate the party, have a few drinks with Reiner, work my magic, and after extracting information from him, Miguel and I will kill him.
I've never killed a person before.
Only monsters.
I hope he's a wolf in lamb's wool, because I will not kill a good person- no matter who asks me to.
A knock on my door startled me.
"Come in!" I shake my hair from my face, each curl bouncing softly. I had washed it earlier this morning, and to my satisfaction, it smelled like cinnamon.
Gwen walked in, waved, and opened my fridge, once again stealing a protein shake.
I never drink them, anyway.
She leans on the side of the counter, looks me up and down, and wolf-whistles.
"Damn, Scar! You look good."
I blush, smiling, and wave dramatically at my body. "The last touch is...?"
Gwen holds her hand up, and shakes her head diligently. "I got just the thing!" She bounces out the room before I can question it.
Less than a minute goes by before she comes back- a small tube of lipstick in her hands. I raise my eyebrows, and she mimics my action while walking towards me.
"Open your lips a little," she says in a nurturing tone, and slides the buttery makeup over my lips. When I look in the mirror, my lips part with shock.
A dark, deep red was coating them.
And it looked fabulous.
I grinned. "It looks great, Gwen. Thank you."
Gwen clicks her tongue. "But this, this is the final touch." She jumped to the closet, and grabbed a thin golden necklace, strapping it around my neck.
I only slightly comprehended the strange necklace to have a horribly familiar symbol.
Miguel's symbol on his suit.
I was wearing Miguel's fucking logo on my chest.
But given Gwen's repetitive teasing about me and Miguel, I chose not say anything.
Behind me in the mirror, I could see Gwen smiling, hands on her hips- like I was a work of art she was proud of.
"You look like a sick-ass maneater." Gwen patted my shoulder, and finished her protein drink. "Now c'mon, sexy. We got work to do."
˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
We met up in Miguel's room, and I realized I hadn't been here since that first night. I stared up to see the platform painfully, slowly, descending the sky, Miguel on top of it.
I rolled my eyes.
"Hey Grandpa! Time is ticking!"
Miguel looks down at me from high above, and steps off his platform in mid air. He swings his body down to the floor, using a long spiderweb as leverage.
When Miguel meets my eyes, I freeze. This morning still plays in my head, and I'm not ready to talk about it. I glance away.
Gwen coughed, obviously sensing the embarrassment between us. "Well, l guess we gotta go now."
Miguel scoffed. "After you, Princess. Since you want the upper hand so bad."
I snarled, and turned my body away from his. Miguel made a sound of disbelief and stormed off.
I don't think it's necessarily bad that I could admit he had a nice ass.
Me and Gwen followed him, to see Jessica and Hobie chatting near a large glass wall, the night sky dark through it.
I had that excitement in my gut of an overnight field trip- going with a group of friends to somewhere unknown late at night.
Over these past days, I realized why Gwen doesn't want to leave the S.S.
I feel at home. I feel like I'm more myself then I've ever been- not having to conceal being Spider-Woman to all my friends.
But I'm still counting the days until I can hug my mother again.
I remember when I was in third grade, and mother was waiting for me when I came back from school.
"Honey, I need you to pack your things, okay? We need to get far away from here. Please." Her voice sounded so desperate, it hurt my little heart.
"Why? I like it here. I have friends at my school, Mom." I scrunched my eyebrows and plopped down on a large chair, kicking my feet above the floor.
My mom sighed, and kneeled down, her curly hair grazing my knees. "Your father...he needs us to go away. The police force is dealing with something...unlike anything else they've encountered." Her voice cracked, and she dropped her head, leaning her body on mine. Her tears were warm on the top of my thighs.
I patted her cheek with my tiny fingers, confused on why she was so sad. Dad was strong. I think he'll be okay.
"Okay." My voice was weak, and she helped me pack a small suitcase of all my necessities.
I looked at our small apartment, so full, but strangely empty.
And my mother closed the door, locking us out of my old life forever.
I've never seen that apartment again,
Or my father.
The monsters killed him.
So I'll kill the monsters.
Every
Last
One of them.
I straightened, and walked to the table Hobie sat at. A new drive for ending the anomaly pushed through me.
If I could have justice for my father, I'll ruin the evil. And Reiner was the evil.
Right?
I nodded at Jessica, and fist bumped Hobie. Me and Jessica aren't particularly close, but I'm cooler with her than with Miguel, as Gwen predicted.
"Are you all ready?" Jessica asked, putting a protective hand over her stomach.
She looked me up and down, and nodded. "That's good. This will work." I smiled, pleased that my appearance seemed to be successful. When I glanced to see Gwen, Miguel stood in my line of vision.
Miguel locked eyes with me, dark and powerful. He didn't look away.
I felt my heart skip a beat, and the energy between us was so electric I dropped my gaze.
But then, unexpectedly, Miguel dropped to my ear, and muttered, "You look good, Scarlett."
I shuddered, and stepped back, while butterflies in my stomach fluttered rapidly.
"Tha-thank you." I blushed at the rawness in my voice. Why was I treating this like I was 13 years old, meeting my middle school crush?
This is supposed to be professional. I swallowed, and turned to Hobie.
Fuck. He noticed.
Hobie was struggling to hide a grin, and I blushed even harder.
He dropped his mouth in a sarcastic gesture, and to my horror, Hobie made a hole with one hand and poked his index finger in it with another.
I punched him in his rib cage, but he only snorted.
"So!" I said loudly, ignoring Hobie's growing smile. "Let's get a move on, right?"
Jessica nodded, and clicked her watch a couple times. "Hey Lyla, tell Margo to watch over HQ, okay?"
Lyla popped up, and made handguns. "You got it, Jess."
Jessica looked back at us, and nodded slowly. "Alright."
She tapped the watch one more time, and an orange portal warped into view. And like I had done it a million times before, we jumped in, synchronized.
˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
The first thing I noticed was the absolute pitch black darkness surrounding me.
The dark was silent, and I flayed my hands around the air to feel anything. I came into contact with a rock solid stomach, and Miguel's familiar grip wrapped around my wrist.
"Stop. Moving." He gritted through his teeth.
I obliged, and for a couple seconds, nothing happened. Then, a warm light flashed from another part of the room. Jessica had tapped her watch again, emanating a flashlight from the screen. Hobie, Gwen, and Miguel did the same, and I graded my eyes over the area we had teleported in.
We were in a large storage closet, full of clothing and belts. There were tray tables, wine glasses, and too many suits to count on the walls.
Jessica grinned. "Bullseye." She tore her jacket off, and grabbed a large black suit.
I looked at Gwen, confusion painted on my face.
She told me earlier that the plan was changing, and we didn't have a definite routine just yet, but it seemed like everyone except me knew what was going on.
"We jumped into the building that Reiner owns," Gwen explained in a whisper. "Me, Hobie, and Jess are gonna work as waiters, keeping an eye on everyone who has powers. Miguel is gonna stay here, working tech, until you secure Reiner in a private location."
I nodded slowly. It made sense, and the plan, to my pleasure, had no flaws. I looked up to see Miguel leaning on the door, chin up.
Fuck, fuck. He's really hot.
I needed to stick to the mission. My mission, especially. Miguel things the seduction game he's playing has already been won- but an addictive sensation has took over me.
Strangely, I want the validation of his eyes on me.
I want him to want me, even if I don't want anything to come from it.
Miguel told me that first night that the seduction of Reiner didn't have to go as far as sex, only taunts and flirting.
But he also explained to me that he would be on intercoms in my ear the entire time. The intercoms have a small camera attached to the side, in a clear angle of whatever I'm staring at.
Meaning, theoretically, if I did have sex with Reiner, he would hear and see all of it.
I stifled my smile.
"Let's put the intercoms on." Miguel lifted his chin to Jessica, and she helped me fasten a small microphone to my ear.
"Are you sure Reiner can't see it?" I mutter.
"The mic merges with your skin tone. If he could, I would be very surprised."
After Gwen and Hobie finished changing, and grabbed an empty tray, Miguel looked around, and slid the door open quietly, blinding the group with pale white light. Gwen, Hobie, and Jess sneaked out, trays in hand.
And I looked at Miguel.
He was breathing softly, his chest rising and falling. He looked so vulnerable. It almost made me change my mind on what I planned to do tonight.
Almost.
I smiled devilishly, tugged my stockings up, and shut the door, engraving the picture of Miguel alone in my mind.
Large, grand chandeliers lit the hallway. I followed the path of people, each one of them dressed in exquisite gowns and jewelry. Even in my very expensive attire, I felt underdressed.
"Yes, well Mr. Reiner was discussing with our peers shortly after-" I heard a older voice say. I stopped, and turned to the sound of the name, seeing a man in his mid-50s walking towards an open room. When I trailed after him, I stared in bewilderment at the area.
The architecture was amazing. Not even the S.S could meet up with this. I tried to remind myself that the way Reiner was able to get this fancy layout wasn't particularly moral, but I couldn't help my reaction to it.
"Hey, can you hear me?" A buzz in my ear startled me. I nodded, but remembered Miguel couldn't see my body, so I lowered my voice. "Talk quietly."
His voice was a raspy chuckle in my ear. "Am I exciting you, zorra?"
I have got to seriously figure out what "zorra" means. I continued forward, ignoring him.
I walked on golden lined marble tile, staring at the high, circular dome above us. Golden stars and constellations were painted intricately around the ceiling, and a massive, white chandelier glittered like diamond.
I reached the middle of the room, unaware of my surroundings, until a hand met my shoulder.
I whirled around. And staring at me was one of the most beautiful people I've met.
Platinum white, shiny hair swayed softly over his skin, which was pale- but not in a sickly way, but a regal way. He had sharp, cold eyes, the color of ice. He was taller than me, a perfect, standard height of a man, and he was wearing a clean white suit, free of any lines or flaws.
He was ridiculously perfect.
The man's eyes met mine- soft and unsure, and he gestured my dress.
"I'm assuming you didn't get the dress code. But, I can't say I'm upset...Mrs....?" His accent was soft, a warm undertone of fragility hiding in his tone.
Okay, fine, I'll admit it.
He's also really, really hot.
I swallowed, and attempted a smile as well. "Ms....Winslow." I tried. I made the fake name on the spot, inspired by an 1800's romance novel I had read in 6th grade. I think it made me sound fancier.
"Well, Ms. Winslow. I'm delighted to meet you." He dropped his eyes back to my body, clenching his strong jaw.
God, at least one hot guy gave me the reaction I wanted.
I extended my hand, hoping he would shake it, but he instead he leaned down, softly kissing the top of it. My nerves sparked where I was just touched.
I reminded myself to stay on the mission- distract him, until he breaks. So I bite my lip casually, an easy, disgusting way to get a man's attention. I hear his breath hitch.
Miguel's voice is a breathy whisper, making me shiver slightly. "Be careful. That's Reiner." The coms quickly tapped out.
I raised an eyebrow, trying to conceal the rapid beating of my heart. It makes so much sense. He looks like ice itself, but I expected someone evil to...look more evil. What I see is a cute man, maybe in his 20's, who seems genuinely interested in me.
"And who could you be?" I pleasantly lower my voice.
He smiles again, this time pride shining in his eyes.
"I'm Mike. Mike Reiner."
My personal mission came to mind again.
Fucking Reiner on intercoms.
The smile that played on my lips was completely natural, because I realized how easy completing both missions would me.
"Reiner!" I exclaimed femininely. "I heard of your achievements. It's really," I stepped closer, and made my voice gentle. "It's really impressive, sir." I was pleasantly surprised by the seductive melody to my voice.
He didn't smile at that, but the light in his eyes showed me something else was on his mind. Was winning him over going to this easy?
"Thank you, darling. And no need to call me sir. I prefer first names." His calm, quiet words soothed me.
I figured that I wanted him to know me.
I shook my head in agreement. "In that case, you can call me Scarlett."
The smirk danced on his face. "That suits you very well, my red flame." My heart skipped a beat at the nickname. "May I show you around?" He held out his arm, and I locked mine with his.
He smelled wonderful, like lavender and soft things. Everything about him felt so much more comfortable than I could ever be with Miguel.
We approached the dance floor, and he led me into a waltz to soft jazz in the background.
I carefully stepped around, moving my fingers on his shoulders. "This is a very beautiful building."
"Thank you. I spent many years making it for my company." He led me in a quick twirl, and grabbed me by my lower back to pick me up again. I stepped closer.
"Company? I've only heard small things about what you do here from my....workplace." I locked eyes on his to distract him.
Miguel suddenly activated the microphone in my ear. "Good girl. You're doing exactly what you're suppose to do." His words were hard, low, so, so attractive.
I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but I was too close to Mike to say anything.
Just wait until I fuck Reiner and you'll have to hear, bastard.
Mike breathed heavily, and trailed his hand up to my waist, leaving electricity burning on my body. "We are a unique branch of quantum science, specializing in universal research." His mouth was close to my neck now.
I was getting wrapped up into this, too quickly.
"This doesn't look like an ordinary science lab." My grip on his body tightened.
His voice sounded ragged. "My red flame, we aren't an ordinary science lab."
I pressed on. "And why is that?" My breath was practically in his ear. He let go, gently, and pushed me forward on the floor.
"Let me show you."
˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
Mike was leading me down an empty, spacious corridor. Large oil paintings with golden frames decorated every wall. My lips parted at the sight, and I felt Reiner's stare.
"It's all so beautiful..." My voice caught.
Reiner brushed my hand with his. "It's nothing in the presence of you." I met his glinting eyes.
He made me feel...so special.
I was staring to looking forward to finding his bedroom.
Miguel groaned in my ear, the usual anger resurfacing. "What a fucking line. Are you gonna fall for that, Scar?" I inhaled sharply. "Maybe I'll have to call you my pretty girl to get the same reaction." His voice ended in a whisper, and the words made me halt.
Reiner seemed confused. "Is something wrong?"
I shook my head, trying to shake the idea of the microphone out of my mind. I'm starting to regret the idea of fucking a man with Miguel hearing. I've never been that bold, either way.
But the thought of turning Miguel on....
Sparks popped in my stomach.
"I'm fine. Where are we going, Mike?" I smiled at the sound of his name in my mouth.
We stopped walking at a smooth, gray door, with a large keypad near it. Reiner tapped a couple numbers in, and the keypad turned green.
The room was cold. It felt like the temperature had dropped 10 degrees in a matter of seconds. Inside, a large table of microscopes, tablets, and papers littered the scene. There was so much science equipment, I didn't know where to look first.
I stare at Reiner.
He looks so beautiful, so natural in the cold lighting. Mike casually strips his suit jacket from his body, a light blue, expensive shirt elegantly shaped around his lean body.
He taps his slender fingers on a table, and I'm suddenly taking in breath like I'm losing it, and my stomach is swirling, and his eyes are melting my body.
"We do most of our work here. The Casanova is home to our experiments, and people."
He drums his fingers one last time, and slowly walks towards me, his black slacks clacking on the floor. My heart is racing, and I delicately slip my body on an empty table behind me.
It's cold under my thighs.
"You need to get more information, Scar. Not give him an erection." Miguel said darkly. By habit, I reached up to touch my ear, but the microphone, feeling the microphone. I needed to shut him up before I fucking lose it. Slyly, I tap the microphone three times, turning his voice off all together.
He lost contact with me, meaning #1- he can't hear or see me, and #2- he's going to be pissed.
Reiner jumped on a table opposite of me, his legs casually spread out farther, than in a civilized way. He tilted his head playfully, his voice as thick as honey. "You know, you didn't tell me where you come from. What brings you to the Casanova?"
I breathe in. Not just for air, but for this moment. To suck in the feeling of being wanted, of being watched. I arch my back carefully.
"My friend...Mr. White...you know him?" I lowered my eyelashes, feigning innocence.
"Yes, I do. Harrison White, a good friend of mine."
I forced my eyebrows from raising. I hope to God I can play along with this. Maybe there were just a million "Mr. White's" in the world, and he happened to actually know one.
"Well, he offered to bring me here. It's really, very kind of him." My breath began to move faster when Reiner stepped off the table, and made his way towards me, so slowly it hurt.
He arrived next to me, and dropped his head down, a smile widening on his face. My heart and breathing was the only break in the heavy, sexual silence between us.
"Ms. Winslow, Harrison is dead. I killed him 3 months ago." His eyes bore into mine, a cold blue that suddenly reeked of fear and death.
"I-I- don't-" my throat locked.
"I know you don't belong here, Scarlett." He grabbed my hand and forced it down on the table, his nails digging into my skin. "So tell me what it is you're doing here."
My heart hammered, and I stopped dead when a sharp, cold blue crystallized on his fingers- ice.
His nails grew into sharp talons of icicles, melting on the heat of my fingers.
"Tell me, and I won't have to kill you right now."
His voice softened, and he leaned in, his lips warm on my ear.
"And my red flame, I truly don't want to kill you."
CHAPTER 10- THE VILLAIN
-MIKE REINER
•Age-22 years old
•Height- 6'4
•Eye Color- Light Blue
•Hobbies- Writing, linguistics, chess, stealing, killing.
MOODBOARD-
I bit back a curse, and with shaky legs, stood up from the table. "Let me explain."
Reiner tilted his head, and backed up, smirking. "Please do."
"I-" My voice stumbled. I didn't want Miguel to be caught, but I didn't particularly want to lie to Reiner either. "I'm part of a group, that's targeting you. I'm supposed to...interrogate you."
He nodded, as if he expected my reaction. "The S.S?"
Now is my only chance. To lie, or to die.
"I have no idea who that is," I say bluntly.
Reiner stepped closer, his presence so intimidating it made my fingers shake, along with my legs.
"Oh yeah?" He muttered softly, looking down at my shaking body. I felt like a ridiculous, terrified animal being cornered.
"Yes." I used all of my might to strengthen my voice.
He chuckled, and put a hand on my hip, forcing a leg to stop moving.
"You're shaking so much, and I haven't even touched you yet. I wonder how easily you'd break apart if I fucked you."
One word-
Holy
Fuck.
Never in my life, never in my life, has a man been so bold with his feelings for me.
I backed away, but Reiner kept his grip on my body, and forced me closer to his hips.
He made a small clicking sound. "What a waste. You could've been great."
His icy fingers seemed to stab into me even more.
"I'm already great." I manage to say.
He grins mischievously. "Really? Tell me, how much do you know about what you're fighting for? I'll guess hardly anything."
"I know enough to want to kill you." I hiss back, my teeth baring.
Reiner nods, and walks to a table in the back of the room. I hesitantly follow him, my hand perched on the knife hidden in my garter.
Reiner scoffed lightly. "I'm thinking they told you I was dangerous. A threat to the canon."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." My voice raised.
He continued on, ignoring me. "They told you that reality itself would crumble if I stole from some fucked up rich people. But really, Scarlett," he drawled. "Who made them in charge?"
I stepped closer, each foot bracing my body for a fight. "And you would be better at protecting the multiverse?"
He laughed softly, and kicked his foot nonchalantly on the tile. "I think you don't realize I'm equally as talented at maintaining the universe as Miguel is." The sound of his name made me halt.
My reaction excited him, and he leans in. "Which by the way, how is O'Hara? Our last interaction wasn't...pleasant. Is that why he's making you do his dirty work?"
Mike looked down at my dress, his eyes fixated on the slip of my dress near my breasts.
"Then again, min røde flamme, I wouldn't mind you doing dirty things."
I stomped forward with a renounced diligence. "Go fuck yourself, icicle. I have one job, and I intend on doing it. Let's make this easy, okay?"
"I warned you." Mike's tone was low, and he relaxed his body on the side of a cabinet.
I slashed the two knifes from my garter, and dangerously placed them on his neck.
"No, Reiner. I warned you."
His eyes danced in the cold light of the room. Goosebumps were already forming on my skin, but I didn't care. I began fiddling with the intercom on my ear, before a sudden blast of freezing sparks appeared in my stomach. I choked on my own breath, and the knives clattered on Reiner's lap. He casually looked down, and wiped them off of him, as if they were just small inconveniences.
My knees involuntarily buckled.
Everything hurt. So bad.
My eyes were stinging, and I felt like I had brain freeze all over my skin.
Reiner stood above me, dusting off his hands, and small particles of ice fell on my eyelids.
"I took all the water in your body and chemically changed it to ice. It hurts, doesn't it?"
My raspy gasp for air must've said enough, because Reiner furrowed his brows.
"Scarlett, it hurts to see you like this. Do you think you can behave? I'll let you go if you behave."
He rubbed my cheek kindly, and though I wanted to bite his fucking hand off, I couldn't move. Reiner released his invisible grasp on me, and I sharply panted, my hands pressed on the floor.
His voice was a low rumble, tingling in my fingertips.
"I do admit, I can't say I don't enjoy that position you are in."
I urged my body to my knees. And as carefully as possible, without him noticing, I clicked the intercom three times.
Miguel's voice boomed in my ear. "Scarlett? Are you okay? Fuck, you scared me. Hobie and Gwen aren't answering. Where are you? What...are you doing?"
I heard the words, and quietly whispered, "Help."
Reiner hummed, his feet hitting the tile closer to me. "Of course I'll help. You just need to understand something for me, okay? I can already tell just how good we would be together. I'll prove to you that what I'm doing is better than what they are doing."
Miguel snarled. His voice was so infuriated, I almost didn't recognize him. "Don't listen to him, Scarlett."
Reiner lifted me by my chin, and my drowsy head leaned on his fingers for support.
"My red flame, we could be great. We could be incredible. Join me. Please." His eyes were full of hope that wasn't evident in anyone else I've ever met.
The thought of being with him had planted in my mind. What if I did say yes? What if I did take control of the world- no, fuck that-worlds, with a man that seemed to actually care for me?
My fathers words flashed in my mind.
When the world relies on you, you must stand tall and listen.
My mission came to my mind again.
Capture Reiner.
I guess, I had to be creative.
A strange realization dawned upon me.
Having sex with him might be the only way he would trust me enough to give me information.
I had to do this.
And that fire in my gut told me I wanted to, as well.
My throat was dry when I whispered- "Yes."
Reiner kneeled down, and smiled optimistically, both hands on my cheeks. "Oh, this is so good. So fucking good. We'll ruin them, darling."
My voice was husky, daring when I asked,
"And would you ruin me, too?"
His eyes flashed with a lust so potent, I was surprised my knees could hold me up. He blinked, and then tightened his jaw, swallowing hard.
"Only if you want me to."
His lips looked soft, a pastel pink, curling up by the corners.
Miguel's voice was so angry, I bit my lip to stop from whimpering."What the hell are you doing?"
But the man in front of me was there, and real, and wanted me as much as I wanted him.
I wanted him.
I leaned in, kissing the villain gently.
He stiffened from my touch, but only for a second. Mike groaned in my mouth, warm breath reaching my own, and wrapped his arms around my waist, shooting whirls of flame up my gut.
It felt so good.
It's been, what, 6 months since I fucked a boy? 7?
Maybe I've never got a real taste of what desire should've been.
I leaned in, whimpering at the roughness of his hands on my body. He clawed at the open parts of my skin, my breasts, arms, thighs. The ice that was once on his fingers melted on my warm body, dripping down my thighs in cold streams.
He grabbed at my stockings, and slid his hands up under my dress, grabbing my ass. I gasped, and leaned on his body.
"Hhh...fuck-" Reiner breathed in, and bit my lower lip harshly. He repositioned his legs around my waist, and I felt a very solid shape poking into my upper thigh.
"Mike..." I felt my chest rising with the effort to speak.
"I would make you feel so good," he muttered, not doing anything to soothe my racing heart.
"I would give you things he couldn't." He groped my thigh roughly, then slid his hands down to my underwear, roping the lace around his index finger.
"Stop it." Miguel breathed into the mic. "Fucking...stop it." His voice was getting heavier each time I heard it.
"I don't want to stop." I whispered, half to Miguel, half to Reiner.
Miguel growled, and I swear I heard his claws slash through floor. "If you want to be fucked, princess, I could handle that. This is ruining the goddamn mission. Kill him!"
The strange mix of a man I was extremely attracted to yelling at me in my ear, and a man whose body I craved on mine, made me quiver.
I licked the neck of the man I should've murdered at least an hour ago, and bit down on a piece of his skin.
A submissive moan floated from his mouth, leaving me no control over the wetness between my legs.
"I need...to feel you." Reiner breathed in my ear.
Despite my best efforts, a smile creeped to my lips. Oh, I would let him feel me.
My nerves were on fire, as I whispered, "Stand up."
He obliged quickly, his hips rocking near my mouth. I stared up at him, well aware of my pure eyes, and softly kissed the lump in his pants. He groaned again, quicker this time, and pushed my lips on his zipper.
"Don't tease me, Scarlett."
I was burning. Every part of my was on fire, falling into this daze of fucking a man I know I shouldn't.
He was forbidden fruit.
I use my teeth to pull down his zipper, and I unbutton his pants cautiously. He quickly rips off the slacks, and white boxers met my eyes. I almost laughed at the way his entire outfit was the color of snow.
"Don't play with me," he warned again. His eyes were darker than ice now, an ocean of lust coating his vision.
I pulled down his boxers.
Okay, one more word.
Holy shit.
Big was an understatement.
His body was warm, veiny, perfect.
I slowly let my hands explore his cock, and he growled.
My lips parted, and with that single movement, he shoved his length inside of my mouth. He weakly thrusted once, before grabbing my hair for support.
"You're so fucking good. So fucking-" he grunted, and pushed deeper into my throat. "Good."
Miguel said nothing behind the mic, only his rapid breathing filling my ears.
And then, silence.
I kept bobbing my head over Reiner's body, but my mind wasn't on him. Where was Miguel?
And then, behind the door of the room I was in, I heard a faint rustling.
My tongue stopped on Reiner. He sucked in breath sharply.
"Don't stop." His voice was ragged, breaking at the seams.
I did the opposite of what he told me, releasing my mouth on his body, a strand of my salvia falling from his dick. He grabbed my shoulder, but I turned to the sound. It was getting louder, faster, and I soon recognized it as footsteps.
Heavy, angry, footsteps.
The door burst open. Miguel, full in his suit, flashed to the side of the room I was on my knees in. It took less than a second for him to have his hands wrapped around Mike's throat.
The previously pale skin of the villain's body was turning red under Miguel's grasp.
Reiner let out a small choke, flailing his arms in the air. Miguel shoved him down to the floor his head banging the tile violently. A small stream of blood leaked from Reiner's head, a river of crimson pooling from his white hair.
"Put your dick up." Miguel seethed through his teeth. "Before I chop it off with my goddamn fingers!" He slammed Reiner's head on the ground again, and he quickly buttoned his pants over his wet, limp cock.
And Miguel turned his head to me, eyes wild, hair rustled, and fist in a permanent curl.
I realized then that no man, no quick fuck, would make me feel the way he made me feel.
My heart was thumping throughout my entire body.
My arms tingled at the sensation of my pulse quickening.
My gut was melting in cold fire.
Miguel tilted his head up, beads of sweat forming on his face. His jaw was strong, clenched. His lips, despite the bruised man in his hands, were threatening a smile.
He dropped Reiner with a low thud, and stepped over his body. His talons flashed through his suit with a sharp slice. And he breathed so slowly, said so lustfully,
it killed me.
"Oh, Scarlett. You've been a fucking slut, haven't you?"
That’s it for this part! Look at my others for the rest of the story ;)
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel x you#miguel spiderverse#miguel x y/n#miguel spiderman#miles morales#miguel o’hara#miguel smut#atsv miguel#miguel o’ hara smut#smut#dark smut#atsv gwen#spider gwen#gwen stacy#atsv hobie#hobart brown#hobie my beloved#hobie brown#hobie spiderverse#spiderverse oc#spiderverse smut#beyond the spiderverse#spider punk#into the spider verse#spiderman#spider man: across the spider verse
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Soft yandere Miguel O’Hara
cw: noncon, breeding, kidnapping, m masturbation, biting, SPOILERS.
Headcanons and drabble. 1.4k words.
Mean dom Miguel is so hot, but I find that soft yan Miguel has so much overlap with canon.
This man still does all the sick and deplorable things a villain does, but in a way that's strangely tender.
I mean, you simultaneously have to be a sweet man and a stone-cold motherfucker to step in the shoes of your dead counterpart and con his family into thinking everything is fine. Like, he (eventually) fucked a dead man's wife, adopted his child, and seamlessly integrated into his shoes.
While certainly calloused, it also reveals a profound desperation for love and a willingness to do anything for it.
Enter you: a Spider from a random dimension that got caught up in an anomaly's destruction. Maybe your world was destroyed or it's emotionally difficult for you to return, so you end up spending a lot of time at HQ.
Miguel doesn't notice you for a while. There's hundreds of Spiders milling about the base, so it's only until you befriend Peter B and his baby that you get acquainted.
You draw him in without trying, no matter the walls that Miguel puts up. He needs to focus—everyone's very existence is at stake, dammit,—but by month five, you're the only thing he can think about.
His advances start off slow, bogged down by his own exasperation at himself. You're ordered to give in-person de-briefs in Miguel's office and get invited to lunch with him and Peter B, giving you the impression of an upcoming promotion. Miguel is as poised as ever, not letting a single stray emotion color his expression, and talks to you in an aloof, polite manner.
However uninterested he might seem, his insides tighten and flutter at your growing friendship. Every time you smile or secretly share a bemused look, he sinks deeper and deeper in his desire to have you.
Proximity-wise, Miguel vacillates between sitting next to you, close enough for your elbows to brush, and standing 30 feet away on his podium for the next week.
His involuntary, physical reactions startle him, and it becomes another contention he internally wars about. The second he thinks it's harmless to brush against you, it divulges into grabbing—cupping—pinning—fucking—ruining.
God, he fucking loathes the powerless feeling you inflict on him, but he doesn't have the strength to put an end to your friendship. He furiously jerks off after every meeting, biting into his hand to punish himself as he comes to the thought of you swollen with his child.
He thinks of all the deplorable ways to make you pay for causing these feelings, but he ultimately knows the blame lies within him. You see him as a boss and friend, nothing more. You would never intentionally drag him down to this state, so he bottles up all these feelings for your protection.
It takes a particularly bad mission for his control to break.
Whatever reservations he had about locking you in his bedroom evaporate when he sees you covered in blood and rubble. Protecting you from himself was one thing, but the thousands of universes?
You didn't realize what happened until you woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, weary from pain medication.
He takes your fear, anger, and tears in stride.
While he can't shake his bitchy personality, his annoyance always fizzles out to mumbles and sighs. For months, he takes your verbal abuse and outbursts with resigned acceptance. Miguel didn't always like what he had to do, but he would commit any atrocity if it meant keeping you at his side.
He moves some of his work at home to spend more time with you, just content to occupy the same room while you adjusted to your new situation.
Your shared apartment is quiet most days, save for sporadic outbursts of rage from you, and Miguel daydreams about having a few little kids running around to fill the void.
He stares at you most evenings, watching you curled up on the couch pointedly ignoring him. Miguel thinks you wouldn't be so belligerent if you needed him for something, if you craved his presence and help in some way.
Miguel's mind always drifts back to his favorite fantasies on nights like these: you nine months pregnant and too big for anything other than his shirts. His eyes drift down to your stomach, to the place where you could make his dreams come true.
Patience is something Miguel prides himself on, which is why he puts up with the loneliness for nearly a year after bringing you home. You were given ample time to warm up to him and he's been nothing but kind. Every broken plate and spoiled food, every scratch across his face, every insult—he let you have your way in hopes that you'll eventually recognize him as your lover.
But no. You complained and struggled every step of the way.
Miguel could never hurt you, but he realized that more permanent and assertive measures had to be taken to make you see that you need and love him as much as he does you.
---
When he finally takes you, there's hardly any space between your bodies. There are months of touch starvation to make up for and Miguel is compensating all at once.
His entire 6'9" stature pins you to his bed, locking you between arms as large as your thighs. Miguel is the only thing you see or feel, as his hands caress every dip and curve of your body and his cock grinds against your slit.
With your legs helplessly hiked up around his waist and one of his hands pinning your wrists above your head, he makes love to you with a slow burning intensity.
Your fear and disgust are palpable, but between his sweet voice in your ear and his fingers somehow knowing the rhythm and speed to play with your clit, you're more wet than you've ever been.
"Shh, shh, mi cornazón. I have you." Miguel kisses your jaw, his cock rocking in and out of your aching heat with an agonizingly slow pace. "Just breathe steadily and let me take care of you."
He's too big inside of you, and your grunts of pain make him linger in place to help you adjust. When his stride picks up and the wet sounds of sex fill the bedroom, disgust roils in your stomach. Yet fuck, fuck, fuck, your body temperature rises with each stroke.
Miguel kisses you deeply, using his free hand to hold your head in place. He says, "It's time. I've been so patient. Be brave for me and take our baby."
He swallows your horrified pleading with another scorching kiss.
Your pussy clenches around his dick and your breath catches in your throat. Miguel hugs you tighter, his nose pressed into your hair as he angles himself just right. When the first waves of your orgasm make your head dip back, the sharp edge of fangs scratch your neck.
You barely register his mantra of, "Te amo," when his jaw clamps down on your shoulder. Blood spurts from between his teeth, and you cry out in confused pain as your orgasm shakes your body.
Miguel moans into your flesh seconds later, pumping his cum deep inside you. His thrusting is uncoordinated and rough, too blinded by pleasure to notice how powerful his pounding is. The mattress springs whine beneath you two, and you can only cry from the overwhelming treatment.
He milks every last drop of cum into your cunt before he begins to slow. Both of you gasp for breath, your chests heaving against one another's as sweat cools on your hot skin.
He keeps you plugged up for a while longer to give the conception time. His bloodied lips drag across the wound on your shoulder, peppering you with kisses as he trails red along your neck.
A sob shutters in your chest as Miguel runs a palm along your stomach.
"You'll understand soon. I promise. This will be the best thing that's ever happened to us."
#yandere miguel o'hara#dark miguel o hara#yandere miguel x reader#miguel o'hara smut#yandere miguel o'hara x reader#yandere spiderverse#cw: noncon#cw: breeding#afab
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Symbiote Spider-Man 2099 #2 Preview
Symbiote Spider-Man 2099 #2 Preview #symbiotespiderman2099 #symbiotespiderman #MiguelOHara #MiguelOHara #SpiderMan2099 Preview #spiderman2099 #MARVEL #marvelcomics #comics #comicbooks #news #mcu #art #info #NCBD #previews #reviews #spiderman #Amazon
Symbiote Spider-Man 2099 #2 Preview: VERSUS VENOM 2099! Miguel O’Hara’s oldest foe – the VENOM of 2099 – is back and out for blood. Not just Miguel’s – but his entire company’s! No one is safe while these two titans clash, so Miguel has no choice but to power himself up with a SYMBIOTE the likes of which the world has never seen. Miguel’s gotten what he wanted out of the deal, but what does this…
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#Amazing Spider-Man#comic books#comics#marvel comic books#marvel comic previews#Marvel Previews#Miguel O&039;Hara - Spider-Man 2099#Previews#Spider-Man#spider-man 2099#Spider-Man 2099: Dark Genesis#Symbiote Spider-Man 2099#Symbiote Spider-Man 2099 2#Symbiote Spider-Man 2099 2 Preview
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hi :) and welcome to my blog!
this is just my own personal hell where i consume media regarding specific franchises and characters that i adore.
some facts about me!
call me el, or berry is fine too (she/her/hers)
jan 25, 2003 (21yrs)
aquarius sun, scorpio moon, sagittarius rising
cali girlie, born and raised
here are the franchises and characters i will be religiously reblogging and talking about on this acc of mine!
teenage mutant ninja turtles
raphael is my fav
2012, bayverse and rottmnt are my favorites, but 2012 will always be my top as it has a special place in my heart
harry potter
i’m a Gryffindor!
i love the books, movies and hogwarts legacy
i don’t support JKR but I still grew up with the franchise, I just adore it
Sebastian Sallow is my fav ever but Draco from the movies and books >>>
all my fav harry potter characters are Slytherins lol
marvel
i have an obsession with the spiderverse and avengers movies
loki and miguel >>>
+ hobie and cap appreciation from time to time
i also love venom. he’s cute
ateez
i’m a kpop fan! but ateez are my favs
seonghwa biased :3
call of duty
ghost brainrot
avatar
jake sully enthusiast
books! i love to read. some favs are:
throne of glass
a court of thorns and roses
currently reading shatter me!
if you read all of this, thank you! and feel free to always send me a message for whatever reason, i’m always talking so i’d love to meet new people and talk about my obsessions, especially if you love the same things! and also feel free to reach out to me for whatever reason you feel is necessary :) for a question, comment or concern, or just to say hi! i’m an open book. cya later! <3
#tmnt#tmnt2012#tmntbayverse#rottmnt#marvel#loki#miguel o hara#hobie brown#captain america#atsv#across the spiderverse#kpop#ateez#cod#ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#mw2#avatar#jake sully#books#reading#from blood and ash#dark olympus
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Wait, I just realize you have two futuristic heroes! Batman Beyond and Spider-Man 2099! Cool!
To Terry and Miguel, how does it feel taking over the role of the OG hero, now that the OGs had retire and/or aren't around in the future anymore?
Both Terry and Miguel blinks to hear this question. They look at one another then at the anon with a curious thought. "Honestly, it's a bit.....surprising." Terry said with Miguel being quiet.
"At first, it was a bit moment for me and I feel the same for Miguel here. Though, taking over such a role will be a lot more than we thought or more responsible like. So yeah, it's a big moment." he rubs the back of his head.
~~~~~~
((Hello there anon. Yeah, I have the two and many others so yeah. I was curious about these two and well, Miguel was a suggestion thanks to my friend and same for Terry too.))
Silver butterfly mun/Peahen mom
#IC#silver roses#ask answered#muses answered#curious peahen and peacock#terry mcginnis#beyond the darkness/new batman#miguel o' hara#powerful yet dangerous spidey/fangs coated in blood#anon
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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!
#yandere#yandere x reader#self insert#yandere blog#yandere fanfiction#yandere writing#miguel o hara x reader#yandere miguel#yandere miguel o'hara#miguel o' hara x reader#across the spiderverse#yandere across the spiderverse#female reader#yandere spiderman 2099#yandere spiderman#spiderman 2099 x reader
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Does anyone know which show or movie this is?
#movie#tv shows#tv series#help#kiss#türkiye#türkçe#television#finding#couple#acotar smut#rowan whitethorn x reader#miguel o hara#dark!azriel#azriel smut#jason todd x reader#mlqc smut headcanon#jason todd smut#love quotes#18+ only#18+ content#girl kisses#boy kisses#turkey#russia#telenovela#spanish#findining
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