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lonely part 2 ꕥ

father figure!Miguel O'Hara & reader summary: You're his dead fiancé's daughter. You just lost your mother and now Miguel's left you alone to live in another dimension.

Contains: Mentions of death, bad parenting, mental illness, ANGST, not proof read.

WC: 1411

part 1

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

They had banana pancakes for breakfast that morning, blissfully unaware of what was to come. Unaware that would be their last breakfast together.

Or that Miguel would receive a phone call hours later and be asked to identify his fiancé's body.

It didn't make sense. They were supposed to get married and begin the next chapter of their life. They were supposed to grow old and gray together. Instead, she was laying cold and pale in an equally cold morgue. Her chapter ended. The mortician gave him the ring in a tiny plastic bag that felt impossibly heavy in his palm.

The night Dana died, part of Miguel died with her.

Then there was you, her daughter. Her doppelgänger. Fuck, why did you have to look so much like her? It was unbearable, and he felt like he was being haunted every time he looked at you. It wasn’t fair to you, but he couldn’t help it.

So he would just leave, only coming back every few days. Only at night when he knew you were asleep so he wouldn’t have to risk seeing your face.

He distracted himself with work and spending more time researching the multiverse. He stumbled upon this one particular dimension's family a few months after Dana's funeral. He began watching them on his platform obsessively, living vicariously through his alternate self. They had a little girl and he could see little bits of himself and Dana in her. 

He fell in love, and as if the universe heard his prayers, an opportunity presented itself. He watched as his alternate self bled out in an alley. He buried him too, somewhere no one would find him. But wasn’t this better? He would take over so they would never have to mourn their father and husband like he did for Dana.

And he continually justified his actions for months, so deep in delusion he couldn’t see the damage he was causing. Though, he could never bring himself to make another batch of banana pancakes no matter how Gabriella begged.

Then he lost Dana. Again. The dimension crumbled into a myriad of colorful pixels before his very eyes.

----

In the midst of his grieving, your face appears crystal clear in his mind.

Fuck, when was the last time he went home? When was the last time he saw you? Has to be months now. But it's in that moment he realizes you're all he has left. The only one who hasn't died or abandoned him. Yet. Dread pools in his gut at the realization.

As rushes back home for the first time in months, all he can think about is seeing you. He needs to make sure you're still there. That you haven't abandoned him.

"Cariño, I'm home," Miguel shouts in the doorway, but he’s met with silence. "(y/n)?"

When you don't answer Miguel frantically begins tearing through the house, fear and panic bubbling up.

Miguel strains to hear sounds of movement, of life, but there's nothing. The oppressive silence weighs on him as he frantically searches each room.

"No, no, no," he mutters, panic rising. This can't be happening again. He can't have lost the last link to his happiness, his salvation.

Stopping in the middle of the empty apartment, Miguel clutches at his hair, breathing hard. His eyes flash red and his fangs slide out as he tries to reign in his swirling emotions. Anger, grief, guilt, panic - it broils inside him, threatening to erupt.

He needs to find you. Now. Miguel races outside, using his enhanced senses to track you. It doesn't take him long, your scent and energy signature are still strong despite the distance and time apart. As he swings and runs through the city, following the trail, Miguel berates himself.

How could he abandon you like that? Get so wrapped up in his own pain that he didn't see yours? What kind of man does that make him?

He won’t fail you again. Once he finds you, Miguel vows to never let you out of his sight. To protect you, to care for you, to make up for his failures.

—

He almost doesn’t notice you amongst the other travelers at the train station, curled in on yourself at a lone bench. You have a suitcase with you. You were planning to leave for good and Miguel’s heart twists at the realization.

Miguel approaches slowly, as if afraid you'll bolt like a frightened doe. His eyes glow dimly red in the darkness, focused intently on you.

He says your name that comes out like a plea on his lips. His voice is gravelly with emotion. "I've been looking for you."

He stops in front of the bench, towering over your huddled form. You look so small and fragile, so different from the vibrant personality he remembers. Guilt flashes through him. This is his fault.

Miguel kneels down cautiously, trying to meet your lowered gaze. "I'm sorry, cariño. I'm so sorry I left you alone." His voice cracks slightly.

One large hand reaches out slowly, gently grasping your chin and tilting your face up. His skin is warm against yours.

"But I'm here now. And I promise, I'm never going to abandon you again." Miguel's eyes blaze with intensity. "You're mine, understand? No one is ever going to take you from me."

His posture is almost predatory as he looms over you. Waiting for a response, for acceptance, for you to acknowledge the unbreakable bond between you. He needs this, needs you, like air in his lungs. You are his salvation, the one good thing left in his ruined life. 

You stare at him in shock, like you've seen a ghost. Miguel has to fight back the urge to sweep you into his arms and never let go. 

But after the initial shock wears off, anger flashes in your eyes.

"You left me! I needed you and you left without a fucking word!" You push on his brick wall of a chest that does nothing but hurt your balled fists. "For six months."

“I hate you, I hate you,” you cry before dissolving into sobs, heedless of the bystanders shooting concerned looks your way.  “I needed you.”

Miguel doesn't budge as you push against his chest. He takes your weak hits without complaint. When you struggle in his hold, he tightens his grasp just enough to keep you close.

"Shh, I know cariño, I know," he rumbles softly. Miguel brings up a hand to gently wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"Leaving you was the worst mistake of my life. I thought I could escape the pain, pretend it never happened." His jaw clenches. "I was a coward. And you suffered for it."

Miguel tilts your chin up again, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "But I swear to you, that will never happen again. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere. No matter how hard you try to push me away."

The hand on your chin moves to grip the back of your neck firmly. "You want to be angry? Hurt me? I'll take it. I deserve it." His voice drops to a rough whisper. "But I'm not letting you go. Not now, not ever. You're stuck with me."

Miguel feels you slump against him, the anger and fight draining out of your body as quick as it came. He keeps one arm wrapped securely around you, supporting your weight.

"I've got you, princesa. I've got you," he murmurs. Miguel scoops you up effortlessly, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. He holds you gently against his broad chest.

Your exhaustion is evident - you feel impossibly light and frail in his arms. Worry creases Miguel's brow as he takes in your wan skin and limp hair. Guilt gnaws at him, knowing he's responsible for letting you waste away like this.

But he'll fix it. Starting now.

"Let's go home," he says quietly, already moving with swift, sure strides. Miguel glances down at you cradled safely in his embrace. "I'll take care of you. Get you fed, draw you a hot bath. And then you're going to get some rest."

His tone brooks no argument. This is non-negotiable. You need him, and Miguel relishes being needed, being able to provide and care for you. It gives him purpose.

"Everything's going to be okay now. I promise." He presses a gentle kiss to your hair. "I'm here."

#miguel o'hara #angst #astv #across the spiderverse #spiderman #fanfic #reader insert #miguel x reader #platonic

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lonely

father figure!Miguel O'Hara & reader summary: You're his dead fiancé's daughter. You just lost your mother and now Miguel's drifting away. Contains: Mentions of death, bad parenting(kinda?), neglect, mental illness, angst. not proof read. WC: 942

part 2

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾

Five years ago, your mother fell in love.

When your mother first told you about Miguel, you had already decided you didn’t like him. 

"Hola, chiqui. I’m Miguel.” You had to crane your neck to look up at him.

"I'm not chiqui," you spat with narrowed eyes, not bothering to hide your disdain with his existence. It wasn’t like he was mean or anything. In fact, he was quite the opposite.

No, it was the way he was looking at your mother like she hung the moon and how comfortable he was in her space - it was all wrong. He was trying to settle in a place that was already taken. 

Your place.

A little voice told you that he was trying to steal her away from you. That if she started to love him more, she would forget about you. And then you’d be alone. Your mother was the only family you had, and it was supposed to stay that way. Just you and her.

For the first few months, you would glare daggers at him if he tried to talk or stand too close to you.

But he was persistent in getting you to like him, and eventually he succeeded.

"Oye, princesa," Miguel greeted after picking you up from school and got hit with the silent treatment. Again.

Miguel let out a sigh. "Vale, vale," he muttered to himself before pulling into the parking lot of the ice cream parlor.

He tried again when you were sitting down with your ice cream.

"You know... I love your mamá and you, sí? I'd never take her away from you. Never." He ran a hand through his hair. "I want to take care of both of you. I'm going to get a nice, big house for us. Gonna make sure you go to a nice college..."

In the midst of his rambling, you looked up from your ice cream, studying him. And you found sincerity. It was the first time you considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe there was enough room for your mom and Miguel in your heart.

And overtime, he had carved a place for himself in your life. He became family, in every sense except blood. Miguel wasn't your father, but he acted like one during the five years you've known him. Doing all the things you wished your biological father had done.

You never had a father growing up, but you imagined this is what other kids must have felt like. Loved.

—-

And one year ago you lost your mother. 

When your mother died, that's when he started to become absent. At first it was subtle. During your conversations, his eyes would glaze over and he would give one word answers, like his mind was somewhere else. He would leave and you wouldn't see him for days. So you learned to wake up from a dead sleep at the quiet click of the front door unlocking. You were desperate.

Days stretched into weeks. Weeks into months.

Grief and loneliness followed you around like a storm cloud. Your friends slowly drifted away from your dark and gloomy aura until no one was left. It's been six months since you've had any sort of contact.

Six months ago you lost Miguel. In a fit of desperation to know he isn’t just laying dead in a gutter, you dig for answers. You find it in your phone, in the cloud storage that you both shared. That’s when you find the pictures, and videos. The proof that he was alive tasted like ash on your tongue.

Your hands shake as you uncover the hundreds of pictures and videos of Miguel with a woman who looks just like your mother and a little girl who isn’t you. The first one is dated seven months ago.

"What the fuck."

As you scroll through all the pictures of them smiling, you feel like you're suffocating. Tears blur your vision and roll down your cheeks, but you force yourself to scroll through them. That little girl is his daughter in another universe. His and your mother’s.

So this is where he went.

"Good job, princesa," he says in one of the clips as he helps her with her math homework. Just like he used to with you.

You sink to the floor and retch up the meager contents of your stomach. Your mind is a maelstrom of anguish, betrayal, hurt, and most of all - loneliness.

"It's not fair," you croak, pulling yourself up. It's not fair that you get to play house while I'm stuck here with no one.

And you were nowhere to be found in any of those clips. Your mother was family, this random child was family and yet... he could care less if you were in this universe or that one.. Maybe you weren’t in that universe. Maybe it didn’t matter.

Maybe you never mattered. You're not blood - that means you’re not family, right?

You sense yourself straying into dangerous territory. The isolation, betrayal, grief - they're all festering in your head, telling you to give up. That no one would even notice. In a moment of clarity, you realize just how unwell you are. Physically, you're malnourished after barely feeding yourself. Your skin is waxy and your hair is limp.

"I can’t do this," you whimper, over and over as you pack a suitcase. You leave the house in a daze and the sun blinds you at first after rotting in that lifeless house for so long. Your feet take you to the train station.

You don’t know where you’re going, you just know you can’t stay another second in that dead home.

#miguel o'hara #angst #astv #across the spiderverse #spiderman #fanfic #reader insert #miguel x reader #platonic

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muzzled - miguel o'hara ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

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Miguel O'Hara || Vampire hunter AU

Summary: Miguel is a vampire hunter for the Vatican. You are the unfortunate wolf he captured and he is dead set on taming you.

contains: f!reader x Miguel, violence, miguel being mean and degrading, reader is a wolf person, shapeshifting, you're a werewolf/wolf-person idk, swearing

this is my first fanfic post on here but he's been living in my head rent free... ૮ ºﻌºა

1,939 words

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"Bad girl," Miguel scolds, cinching the muzzle tight around your face after you disobeyed his orders one too many times. He only chuckles in amusement at the annoyed growl that follows.

"Oh, come now. You gotta learn at some point."

Miguel had accomplished what very few could - capturing a werewolf. Most travel in packs, but you were alone when he wrangled you. Smaller than most werewolves, but you made it up in temper. Growling and snarling little thing. 

But it's worth it. Werewolves could smell vampires better than any, so you're an invaluable tool in his line of work.

Capturing you was the first step, now he works on the taming.

Miguel can tell you want to kill him, but the binding collar prevents that from happening. A leather collar around your neck engraved with ancient symbols of the Vatican. No matter how hard you might try, Miguel holds the reins. And he doesn't plan on letting go anytime soon. Not with how good your kind is at killing and sniffing out vamps.

Miguel smirks as he finishes tying the muzzle around your mouth, securing it tightly despite your snarling protest. His calloused fingers brush against your skin as he checks that each strap is pulled taut.

"There we go, nice and snug," he says in a mocking tone, patting your cheek condescendingly. "I know you don't like it, chica, but it's for your own good. Don't want you getting any funny ideas about taking a chunk out of my neck, eh?"

He chuckles, the sound low and gravelly, clearly amused by your anger and discomfort. His dark brown eyes glint with satisfaction at having subdued you once again, asserting his dominance over the powerful werewolf.

Miguel stands back, folding his muscular arms across his broad chest as he surveys you. His lips quirk up in a faint, crooked grin seeing you fuming but unable to do anything about the restrictive muzzle.

"Aw, don't be like that, pup," he says, tone laced with patronization. "This is just temporary. Be a good girl and maybe I'll take it off early."

His grin widens, knowing his words will only infuriate you more. But Miguel can't help needling you. It's too entertaining getting you all riled up.

"I will kill you one day," you mutter under your breath, ears flattening in indignation. 

"That's cute, chica, but we both know that's never gonna happen," he says, smug amusement coloring his tone. "Not with that binding spell I've got on you. But I admire the gumption." He reaches out and ruffles your hair condescendingly, his large hand mussing the locks between your furry wolf ears.

Miguel turns and walks across the room, his heavy boots thudding against the floorboards. He sits down in a chair facing you, leaning back casually as he regards you.

One hand idly plays with the rosary beads hanging around his neck while the other drums his fingers against his thigh. After a moment, Miguel speaks again, his voice a low rumble.

"You know, I'm doing you a favor here, loba. Giving you purpose, a way to take down the bloodsuckers that slaughtered your kind. You should be grateful." His smile sharpens. "So why don't you say 'Thank you, Master' and really mean it this time?"

"I don't need purpose. Especially not from a bastard like you."

Miguel clicks his tongue and shakes his head in mock disappointment at your refusal to say thank you.

"Such language from a lady," he tuts. "Clearly those nuns at the abbey didn't teach you any manners."

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he peers at you intently. His eyes gleam with wry amusement, though his voice takes on a more serious tone.

"You can fight me all you want, chica, but it'll get you nowhere. I've been doing this a long time and I'm damn good at it. So you may as well accept your situation with some grace."

Miguel pauses, scratching his stubbled chin thoughtfully. "Tell you what. You start showing me a little more respect, and I'll let you out of that muzzle for a bit. Only when you're on good behavior though."

He smirks and leans back again.  "So what do you say? Feel like being a good girl for me today?"

Miguel watches you bite back the growl that is clearly building in your throat from his persistent needling. The desire to get rid of the muzzle stops you.

"I will... comply for now," you grit out,

Miguel's smirk widens into a grin as you reluctantly agree to comply in order to get the muzzle off. 

"There's a good girl," he praises, his voice laced with patronizing satisfaction. He stands up from the chair and approaches you, his heavy boots thudding across the wooden floor.

Crouching down in front of you, Miguel peers into your eyes, searching for any hint of deception. Satisfied with what he sees, his deft fingers move to unbuckle the muzzle.

"Remember, any funny business and this goes right back on," he warns. But his tone lacks any real heat. Miguel is confident in his ability to control you, binding spell or not.

With a faint click, the muzzle falls away, freeing your mouth at last. Miguel gently grasps your chin, tilting your head side to side as he examines your now bare face.

"There. That's better, isn't it?" His eyes glint with amusement. "Now, what do good girls say when someone does them a favor?"

Your eyes flash with anger and you have to purse your lips to stop yourself from baring your teeth.

Miguel's eyes gleam with satisfaction as you grit out a terse 'thank you', though he tuts at your obvious resentment.

"Come now, you can do better than that," he chides, though his tone holds a hint of amusement. "Show some real gratitude if you want to stay muzzle-free."

He pats your cheek before standing up and moving back to his chair. Sprawling casually once more, Miguel regards you expectantly.

"Let's try it again. And this time, look at me and say it like you mean it. A nice, polite 'Thank you' with a smile wouldn't hurt either."

He chuckles, enjoying this game of dominance and submission. 

"Well? I'm waiting, chica. Unless you'd rather I just put that muzzle right back on?" His brows lift in challenge, a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

Your eyes narrow to slits, gold eyes brimming with malice.

"Thank you, hunter."

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

"Tsk tsk. Still not very convincing, pup. At this rate, you'll be muzzled up again in no time."

He leans back lazily in the chair, regarding you thoughtfully. "I think you need a little more incentive to mind your manners. Maybe some one-on-one time with Mr. Cane here would help?"

Miguel reaches down and hefts up a thick oak cane, slapping it lightly against his palm. The sound seems to echo ominously through the room.

"Nothing like a little corporal punishment to teach a bitch some respect." His smile turns wolfish. "So what'll it be, loba? Give me a nice 'thank you' or bend over for the cane?"

He swings the cane lightly through the air, watching you intently for your reaction. The binding spell may prevent you from attacking him, but it can't stop the fear and fury simmering in your golden eyes.

He watches with dark satisfaction as you lower your head in grudging submission, gritting out another terse 'thank you' through bared teeth. Your pointed ears flatten back against your head, broadcasting your displeasure.

"Hmm...better, but I think you can really sell it if you try," Miguel purrs, continuing to swing the cane slowly back and forth. The swishing sound cuts through the air as he contemplates you.

"Give us a big smile, tilt your head a little. Make those pretty eyes of yours go all wide and appreciative." His grin sharpens, voice dropping lower. "C'mon now sweetheart, lay it on thick for me."

He hefts the cane higher, bringing it down fast towards his palm with a loud crack!

"Let's have it then. One more time with feeling, eh chica?"

You bristle for a moment, before forcing a sweet smile and tilting your head to the side. "Thank you, hunter."

Miguel's eyes light up with delight as you paint on a sweet, albeit strained, smile and tilt your head in a show of submission. 

"See, that wasn't so hard now was it?" Miguel chuckles.

"Who's my good girl?" he croons mockingly, reaching out to stroke your hair. "You are. Yes you are."

You duck away from his hand, lip curling in clear disdain.

"Now now, is that any way to act after I so kindly removed your muzzle?" He tuts in mock disappointment.

He grins wolfishly, clearly enjoying getting under your skin. Miguel leans back casually, drumming his fingers on the armrest as he regards you with a coy tilt of his head.

"C'mon chica, don't be like that. I'm just trying to show my appreciation for you behaving so well."

Reaching out again, he makes a grab for your chin, attempting to grasp it firmly between his fingers.

"Maybe you need a little reminder of who's in charge here, hmm?" Miguel's eyes gleam dangerously. "Want me to get the cane back out, help improve that attitude of yours?"

A growl rumbles in your throat. "No," you huff, nose scrunched in annoyance.

He studies you for a moment, his dark gaze sweeping over your irritated yet resigned form. 

Finally, he speaks. "You know, it doesn't have to be like this all the time, chica," he says, his voice surprisingly devoid of its usual mocking lilt. "Play nice and I'll return the favor. Might even let you off your leash once in awhile if you earn it."

Miguel scratches his stubbled jaw, considering. "Could be we make a good team, you and me. With that nose of yours, we'd clean up the streets in no time." His eyes glint with excitement at the thought.

"So whaddya say, wanna give this cooperation thing a shot? Or are we gonna keep butting heads all the time?" He quirks a brow at you inquisitively.

For a moment Miguel feels almost hopeful, like he genuinely wants things to be easier between you both.

And then you scoff at him. "Go fuck yourself.”

Miguel shakes his head ruefully at your dismissive response.

"Had a feeling you were gonna say that," he sighs. "You always did have to learn things the hard way."

"That's alright though, I like a challenge. And I've got nothing but time to wear you down, chica." Miguel's dark eyes glint with determination. Taming you may take patience, but he considers it a rewarding hunt.

He shifts in his seat, making a show of getting comfortable as if settling in for the long haul.

"We'll smooth out those rough edges eventually. Just gotta find the right motivation for you."

Miguel lets the implied threat hang in the air between you. He reaches for the cane again, running his fingers along the smooth oak shaft.

"Ready for round two, pup? I promise it'll go easier if you play nice this time." His eyes bore into yours, daring you to defy him.

#miguel o'hara #astv #miguel x reader #vampire au #werewolf #miguel #spider man #hunter!miguel

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#myart #nanno #girl from nowhere

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Nobara is my fave sorcerer :]

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk nobara #nobara kugisaki #myart

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damien w/ his iced coffee

#damien #myart