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#yandere spiderman
yanmaresu · 10 months
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Yandere Miguel O'Hara x fem! self insert
MDNI // cw: implied future non-con, tying up, kidnapping, yandere, breeding kink.
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Took me way more time than I had planned x'd but here's the guy! I also tried something new and made different versions of the drawing with the self-insert having different skin tones and hair. You can find them under the cut.
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yandere-romanticaa · 10 months
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"How long do you plan on keeping me here?" you ask with a slight sneer. The man in question hardly pays you any mind as his large back is still turned to you, his attention seemingly fully concentrated on some flashing images on the screen that change every few seconds.
All those weeks ago, you had been swallowed by a black hole and found yourself in a completely new dimension and by some strange twist of fate Miguel O'Hara had discovered you. He would often call you an "anomaly" and would say how you must go back home but should stay here in the meantime. Traveling through dimensions is rough on tough guy like him let alone a regular civilian who had zero combat experience. He would keep you close to him and his office, giving you little tasks and chores to keep you from dying of boredom and to, quite frankly, keep you away from the sea of endless Spidermen who were more than curious about your person as a whole, which risked you picking up their bad jokes and stupid attitude and Miguel was just not in the mood to deal with that. You relationship was purely professional with a slight humorous twist from time to time. Miguel was so easy to rile up, how could you not mess with him? Be it rearranging his stuff, poking and pinching his cheeks in order to get some sort of hilarious reaction out of him Miguel became your main source of entertainment. His stone cold attitude always backfired and instead of running away into the opposite direction like most people do, you stuck to him like glue.
Without even realizing it, your presence became a sort of weakness of his.
He lost track of how many images he had saved up of you in a secret folder of his and he just liked to... watch them. He just liked watching you in general. His face was devoid of emotion, his attitude was anything but welcoming but no matter how snappy he got, no matter how angry he may get, he never got truly mad at you.
People like to say that the eyes are the windows to ones very soul and Miguel O'Hara embodies that saying perfectly.
He could be having the worst day imaginable but all he needs to do is to see you, to look at you in your own element and he will feel like a brand new man.
He can't help but to be a little angry at you, for making him so weak.
You distracted him from his work, his duty, however, he still could not bare the thought of you being by anyone else's side. He needs you like a man needs air and you were left in the dark when it came to that fact.
Good.
You don't need to know the extent of Miguel's feelings, you don't need to see just how hard the flames of wicked jealousy roar in his heart and you most certainly do not need to know just how much his soul weeps to touch, kiss, protect, keep you.
He can keep that facade up only for so long though. And as much as he likes to think, Miguel is not the best when it comes to keeping his cool. It is only a matter of time before the dam of his feelings cracks and spills, overwhelming you and him both. Once that happens, there is no going back.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 10 months
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Miguel Having A Crush On You Would Include…
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Warnings: Implications of Smut, Obsessive Miguel, Possessive Miguel, Implied Yandere Miguel, Miguel in Love, Vampire Marking, Marking (Kind Of), Fluff, Typical Crush Behaviour, Petnames/Nicknames, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.
Him being absolutely OBSESSED with you.
Literally completely feral, down bad, infatuated, etc.
Initially, when he realised he’d started liking you in a romantic sense, he tried pushing you away; tried drowning his feelings in work, missions, Hell – even resolving petty spats between the Spiderpeople at the base. Anything to exorcise this rising feeling of butterflies in his chest whenever you were around. Vulnerability.
However, you were persistent.
You’d bring him lunch whenever you knew it would be a long day in the office for him, telling him that “Even the best superhero needs a sandwich every now and then!”
And by God were your sandwiches phenomenal.
Though he’d never admit it, his heart would skip a beat whenever the door to his office opened, knowing that it could be you paying him a visit with your delectable lunchables, or even just to check in on him. Make him feel special in ways nobody else had or could in years.
Eventually, this turned into a daily affair; one Miguel would watch the clock for, wait for. Long for.
Miguel also tried hiding his feelings when you brought him hand-crafted, love-filled desserts that he just couldn’t bring himself to ignore or throw away. Or, when Miles offered to take them off his hands, let anyone else have.
Eventually, there isn’t a day that goes by where you aren’t with him in some capacity. And it shows.
Whenever you’re late, even only by a few minutes, Miguel can feel his heart spike, asking Lyla where you are, if she can track you, etc.
“Sounds like you liiiike (Y/N)~” Lyla gives Miguel a knowing smile.
Miguel just grunts, ignores her. Though, he can feel the corners of his lips turning up, and hides them behind a well-placed hand, rubbing his temples.
Soft glances whenever you’re in the room, all his attention turning to you and you alone.
He just loves to stare at you. You’re so beautiful that he can’t understand why nobody else passing you has to stitch their dropped jaw back onto their face.
Then again, he is grateful. The fury that bubbles inside him whenever he catches someone glancing at you, gaze lustful, is all-consuming, enough to make his teeth grind, his eyes bleed a light rouge hue, piercing. He makes sure they’ll never cross paths with you again.
Gradually, your warmth and kindness thaws his walls, and, once the floodgates are open, neither you nor he can predict the dark ocean that is to flood your lives.
He doesn’t mean to throw himself full-force into his feelings, but after being so guarded for so long, he just can’t help it.
Becomes overly-concerned with every facet of your life. More so than he already was.
Constantly trying to find out information about you, though being stumped as to how to do so without arousing your suspicion.
Asks Lyla to track you, see what you’re doing, who you’re with, their relation to you.
However, she begins to deny Miguel such luxuries, telling him to “Grow a pair and ask (Y/N) yourself!”
When he realises Lyla is steadfast in her resolve, he does so. Reluctantly.
Though, once he starts, he finds it difficult to stop.
“Where are you going after work?”, “Are you going out tonight with anyone?”, “Who?”
Eventually, you just look up at him, seemingly oblivious to his growing desperation, and say: “Gosh, Miguel, you’re starting to sound like you’re my boyfriend or something!”
His heart stops. His throat dries and he just looks at you, eyes wide.
One second passes. Then two. Then–
“Oh– uh– yeah... I mean, not that that’s weird, right? Unless you think it is weird, then–”
Lyla has to step in and save him from himself, telling him he has ‘urgent business’ in one of the other wings of the facility.
His suit suddenly feels too tight and too hot beneath the collar whenever he has to speak with you alone.
And tight in…other places when his mind wanders to the more intimate aspects of your hypothetical relationship.
Miguel likes to rationalise this as him preparing how best to please you when the time, inevitably, comes for him to claim you, make you his. At least, this staves off the post-nut clarity (guilt) just a little longer when he’s pursuing a release, blasphemous images of you running through his mind.
A good example of this occurs almost nightly, with Miguel thoroughly loving a pillow clad in a shirt he’d lent you once, your scent still woven, though faded, into the fabric.
Many nights, his face is pressed to the cotton of that shirt, muffling his lips and his moans as his teeth sink into your temporary body, extending, marking, hand moving fervently beneath the bed sheets, your name the chant of many a spell of ardour.
You might mistake that red glow on his cheeks for the illumination of the console screens, but anyone who looks close enough knows better.
He loves showing you around the facility. Especially when your eyes light up and you remark how intelligent he is for “Doing this all on your own,”
Any compliment from you makes his heart thrum and his cheeks burn with the urge to smile. And, if it’s only you in his company, he does so.
Maybe even give you a nervous laugh.
You’re the only one he feels comfortable with showing emotion to.
He hopes that his displays aren’t lost on you; that you know him well enough to know that every smile, every laugh, is for you and you only.
And he is determined to, one day, make that smile of yours for him. And only him.
But, for now, he will content himself with daydreams and night ventures into territory not yet known, all the while possessing a seat beside you, being a shoulder for you to cry on, an ear into which you may pour your worries, a hero on whom you can always depend in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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mo0nfairy · 10 months
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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ LET YOU BREAK MY HEART AGAIN !
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summary :: together in blissful matrimony, miguel o'hara has never felt true happiness until he was by your side. when you're unexpectedly taken from him, he'll do anything in his power to avenge your death. what he doesn't expect is to find you during that process. or, at least, one version of you.
word count :: 2.9k
content warnings :: obsessive!miguel, yandere!miguel, death, deafness (reader is deaf & mute in one reality), spiders, marriage, gore, grief, noncon touching, drugging (venom is put into readers system).
authors note :: Y/H/N = your hero name.
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miguel o'hara's yandere traits are . . .
smothering, territorial, & paranoid
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──── The gentle melody of piano and harp paint the room in an array of romantic hues. Snow drifts through the Winter air from outside the frozen windows of the venue. Family and friends stand around and admire the beautiful scene before them. You're adorned head-to-toe in white, like an angel who had just descended from the clouds. Miguel is dressed in the finest suit he searched high and low for to ensure it was perfect for this day. However, he knows no one is paying attention to him when you look as breathtaking as you do. His rough-skinned, yet gentle-mannered hand rests on your lower back, the other interlocking your hands together. With your head resting against his shoulder, he sways your body along to the gentle hum of music pervading the air.
Your first dance.
The golden light from the chandelier above serves as a spotlight for you and Miguel. Feeling his chest begin to shake, you move your head to look him in the eye. Tears of sheer happiness were cascading down his cheeks and a weak smile is plastered on his face. You swear that if you were to look up 'devotion' in a dictionary, the way he is looking at you would take up the entire page.
Miguel briefly disentangles his constricted hold on your hand to express his current, overwhelming feelings. He points his middle and ring finger down, the rest of the digits left pointing up. "I love you," that is what he is telling you. When he had first learned you were deaf, he spent his nights studying ASL and SSL in order to communicate with you. However, that single symbol is the one he always finds himself reverting to when all other signs and words fail him. I love you, I love you, I love you. Although Miguel won't express it verbally, he will express the three words through his hands for as long as he lives.
And Miguel remembers the best day of his life just as much as the worst day.
Just one month after you had both gleefully tied the knot, the two of you had gone on a stroll through Nueva York. The moon hangs heavy in the sky and darkness settles against the faint streetlights. Miguel made the vow to always protect you and you've found it to be comforting, relaxing. After a whole lifetime of being deaf and mute, you knew that you were far more vulnerable than others. Knowing you have the Spiderman as your husband causes your concern of any potential assailants to fade away. It's evident in the way his grip on your waist tightens when passerbys walk by and the perceptible shift in his eye when someone stares at you for a little too long.
You've always known he wouldn't let anything happen to you.
The following events all happen quicker than either of you can think. Just as you're crossing the bridge that overlooks the entire city in all its glory, a sudden black hole forms, framed with iridescent hues and overwhelming force. The power of the portals sudden appearance causes the bridge to vibrate beneath your feet. Screams of terror from pedestrians falling to their death goes unbeknownst to you as Miguel holds you against him with constricted tension and hides your face in his chest. The man you have chosen to spend the rest of your life ignores his duty of being the city’s superhero. All in favor of your life.
The remnants of the platform you stood on soon crumble. The red glare of Miguel’s web shoots from his wrist, to where it wraps itself around one of the numerous pillars spread upon the bridge to ensnare you further. But it was so quick, the way you slip from his tenacious grasp. Almost as if someone had forcefully snatched you from him. Innocent civilians shout and plead for Spiderman to save them, but Miguel can't hear them over the thumping of his own heartbeat. Even if he were to hear them, it would not stop him from tearing this entire city asunder in order to get to you.
He forms his hand into the same sign he uses to say 'I love you' and another blaring-red web, the same hue as his panic, springs from him and down to wrap itself around your body. He's done this a million times for others and saved the lives of practically everyone in the city. But, this is you. Miguel is digging his claws into crumbled pieces of the wreckage and shoving them through the air as if they were merely nothing, all in favor of saving you. However, you're both picking up speed and accelerating closer and closer and closer to the unforgiving ground. He latches his talons into a protruding pipe caused by the chaos and clings tight to the web connecting you with him, watching in trepidation as you continue to fall. Attempting to pull the web towards him and bring you back into his arms, where you belong, his efforts were futile.
A loud crack! permeates and his world falls apart.
Practically faster than light, Miguel is pummeling to the ground and to where you now lay. Your chest is flat with no breath and your body is lifeless. Blood is caked on your skull and it cascades onto the pavement beneath you. He rushes to your side, a mantra of ‘no’’s invading the dead, silent air. His heart is paralyzed in his chest as reality sinks into his bones. Desperate pleads escape through loud, violent sobs, begging for you to just open your eyes, hold your hand up, and tell him 'I love you, too'. He knows you cannot hear him, he knows this. But, this does not stop him from begging you, begging God, begging the universe, begging anyone to not do this to him, to not take away the only thing that has ever mattered to him. The only thing that has ever made him happy.
He'll never forget how he had stayed there for hours, ensnaring your lifeless body in his arms as the night faded into dawn. He'll never forget when he left you through brute force and was sent back to the desolate building he could only call home when you were in it. He'll never forget how he had spent days upon days studying the sudden black hole that formed and declared to destroy whoever caused it. The person responsible had taken you from him and if every soul in the galaxy has to pay in order for him to avenge the only one he loves, then so be it.
A year had gone by and every second without you become more tortuous than the last. Things that made him once glisten with joy only make his empty heart lurch with grief. Miguel is now present in the Spider-Society, desperate to manipulate any and all sources to eradicate who had so selfishly taken you from him. He'll just have to endure the yapping teenage-spiders that push at his buttons for the time being. All for you, he reminds himself.
At times, unbeknownst to Miguel, he'll start mumbling your wedding vows under his breath in front of the other spider-people to ease his mind. He knows it by heart; he will never forget it. They may all stare in disturbed confusion, but to mention your name to a man like him would be nothing short of a death sentence. "It's a soft spot, don’t poke it" Jess informs the others.
When the day is finally over and his everlasting efforts were brought to no avail, Miguel will return to the house you had planned on spending the rest of your lives in. Together. All life has been sucked out of the property. The wedding photos scattered about the premise have been derelict with shattered glass after enraged fits. The 'Just Married!' paint still sits on his car and decays with age, but he refuses to ever scrub it off. Your wedding ring, wedding dress/suit, and flower bouquet sit in indestructible cages he operated to preserve them. He fidgets with the wedding ring he vowed to never take off as he wallows in the despair of his silent home. If only he had been quicker; if only he hadn't been so weak.
The video of you dancing in matrimonial bliss ends and the monitor shuts off faster than Miguel could even blink.
The hefty, metal doors to the headquarters open to where several spider-people enter, pantomiming dramatically about the success of their previous missions. Their sudden appearance startles him, to where he demands to know why Lyla hadn't informed him of the spiders' incoming. Jess then enlightens him on his strict rule he set to not disturb him whenever your face is on screen. He exhales with a sigh of defeat and prepares himself for the onslaught of mayhem that would soon come his way. This time, however, a new recruit has joined the group.
Full-body suit hiding any form of physical identity and a soft voice that rarely comes out, Y/H/N from Earth-555 was requested to join the team by Jessica Drew herself. And Miguel couldn't care less if he tried. He'll let another spider on the team if it means keeping the multiverse stable and fueling his progress to one day finally kill the one responsible for your demise. Still, something allures him about this new recruit. Their real name and face are left a mystery to him, but there are certain moments with this stranger where he can't but be reminded of you. That soft voice and heedful hearing prevent him from fully indulging in your memory, but there are certain tics and habits they possess that catch him off guard.
The way you tap your feet when you’re focused, the way you scratch your wrists when you’re anxious, and the way you fidget with the hem of your clothes when you’re bored. And this is what life had been like for a while. Staring at the countless monitors that display a myriad of different information until his brain rots and returning hole to bathe in his misery until the next day repeats.
Several months into Y/H/N's time here is when the doors to the headquarters slam open and several spider-people all clamor in. All were breathless and bruised from a mission that ended messily. The new hero is in the mayhem, as well, exasperated as they rest against the wall. Miguel rolls his eyes at the sudden intrusion and leaves his spot at his desk to find out what these idiots had done now. They all scramble to defend themselves and point their finger at one another, while that new recruit is still trying to catch their breath in the corner. Pathetic. They should know by now that the sake of the multiverse can't afford even a minor mistake. Seeing them left so weak after a fight causes a dry laugh to escape his throat.
Their gloved fingers then grasp hold of the hem of their mask, before forcefully yanking it from their head. And it is like a miracle had materialized right before Miguel's eyes.
His stomach drops at the sudden intrusion of emotions. Shock, elation, disbelief, infatuation. Y/H/N, Earth-555's Spiderman, is his Y/N. You stand before him as you did all those years ago. Despite the dirt and blood smothered into your exposed skin, Miguel thinks you look almost as beautiful as you did when you walked down the aisle.
All you do is clench your eyes shut and try to wait for the pain in your abdomen to ease. The clattering arguments of the others only add fuel to the flame that is your suffering. Soon, there is a sudden wave of silence that washes over. Even with the agony coursing through your body, you were still able to catch the abrupt shift in the atmosphere. You open your eyes to find the man you had feared most, Miguel O'Hara, treading towards you and towering over you with his large figure. Paralyzed with fear, you had jumped to the conclusion that you had enranged him in some way. The terror is so overwhelming, you completely miss the sheer look of love in his eyes and how his pupils had morphed into the shape of a heart.
Eventually, you gain control of your numb body and make a break for it. Pain pumps like a drug through your damaged body, but you persevere and use every sliver of strength left in you to run from him. You're running through the city, dodging past all the numerous spider-people, and webbing through different buildings to escape this maniac of a man. During this, your name and demands for your return are shouted profusely. You don't have time to acknowledge how on Earth he had found out what your actual name was.
Mistakenly, you take a quick glance over your shoulder and almost shiver with fear at the sight alone. Miguel is barrelling after you on all fours like some sort of fucking animal, with fangs and claws out and all. Broken glass protrudes into his limbs from the numerous windows and walls he barreled through. Blood seeps through the torn cuts of his suit, exposing his bruised skin. The excess of vermillion webs clutters the complex from his frivolous attempts at retrieving you. It is utterly terrifying.
Somehow in the midst of chaos, you had found yourself back in the headquarters. The 'Go-Home Machine' practically calls out for you with its luminescent hues. You hear the muffled shouts of your name and the thumping of racing footsteps. In an attempt to use your webs for faster travel, you realize that during your chase, you had entirely run out of web fuel. Shit. From here, you resort to using your legs for once and practically throw yourself into the machine. The translucent spider above uses its limbs to piece together bits of the portals' walls as if it were merely stacking legos. Hope pokes at your brain, but you don't dare let yourself think the storm had washed over just yet. A deafening crash then permeates through the headquarters.
"STOP THEM! NOW!" The echo sends a chill straight into your bones. You watch the machine sputter with increased energy and hope that with enough time, this predator on your tail will find something else for dinner.
Miguel springs into the air as if he were weightless, before landing above you on the thick facade while it buzzes from heightened energy. You have nothing but this wall to protect you from this absolute rabid dog. Sheer trepidation caresses your skin with it's ice-cold touch as he attempts to claw through the membrane of space and time protecting you.
He is bone-chillingly terrifying as he slams all the strength in his body against the barrier. It becomes increasingly difficult for him to keep his grasp on the machine as it continues to charge with intensifying energy. This does not halt his efforts, though. If anything, Miguel has now become increasingly aggressive as the prospect of you leaving him again becomes more profound. The technology whirs from every punch and thrash Miguel gives in order to get to you. Static bolts of energy protrude the air like lightning bolts when he is finally able to tear a hole through the surface, eyes wide and crazed like some sort of beast.
In an attempt to stop him, you try and piece together the chunks of radiation that had been discarded from his unwanted entry. Upon doing so, Miguel is finally able to reach through the opening and dig his talons into your wrist. Your escape was right at the edge of your fingertips, but now you have been flung straight into the jaws of this monster. You splat harshly against the ground and with the state your body was now in, you knew for certain you could not fight anymore.
However, you don't even have a mere second to think of leaving anymore. Not when this vampire-spider has you pinned to the floor with ease faster than you could produce a single thought. He begins to shush you like a baby while you fight and thrash at his chest. His large hand cups your cheek with the same softness you would use to handle a kitten, while the other utilizes his strength to restrain your body.
"I got you! I got you back with me!" The pitch in his voice had raised as he pours his heart out to you. "I never thought I would see you again, but you’re here. My Y/N, you’ve come back to me…” Red eyes are blown wide and they practically stare daggers into you. All as if you were some sort of prey.
The only thing his words do justice in is confusing you further. What you had perceived before as anger was actually... Desperation? Relief? Love? This man has never spoken a single word to you for the entirety of your several months spent in the complex. You are perplexed as you try to think of what had triggered him to suddenly act this way towards you.
"I will never let anything happen to you again... Just let me under your skin..." Miguel's lips find their way down to your ear as he whispers to you the same way a lover would. The entire moment is so deranged, it makes you shudder with horror.
His teeth then sink into the nape of your neck as if his fangs were two needles. With a yelp, you feel warm blood escape and seep down your flesh. Something new swims through your bloodstream that was induced by his bite. Your body begins to fail you and lethargy envelops you like a warm blanket. And this man is like goddamn Dracula, slurping and drinking every last drop of your delicious essence. His calloused hands savor the feel of your body against his and he indulges in how much he had missed this, missed you. With a final, feeble attempt to defend yourself against your assailant, you're soon enveloped into a deep slumber within Miguel's embrace.
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⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
❝ ONE DAY, I WILL STOP
FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU . . . ❞
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i wrote this all in one sitting after an all-nighter please bare with me lmao.
did you guys also know that the pupils of his eyes canonically turn into hearts?
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gulnarsultan · 10 months
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🤭🤗😉
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dilfartist · 10 months
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A foolish endeavor
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Pairing; Yandere Miguel O’hara x reader
Synopsis; You manage to snag Miguel’s gizmo and escape to another universe. How long will it take before he, or the spider society, find you?
Word count; 2.8k
Reader description; Female/GN
TW; kidnapping, probably terrible spanish (i did use sources Spanish-speaking users suggested), non-con touching, yandere themes, dark writing.
Notes; {if i mistranslated any of the spanish please do contact me in my DMs. I wanted this fic to be better but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Did not proofread.}
Midnight coated New York in a dark blue hue. Most nights the city lights illuminate the darkness, providing the ability to see. However, the motel you find yourself ambling to is the more isolated part of the city.
Rain poured down heavily, producing cacophonous echoes of raindrops slamming against the concrete. Clad in a drenched hoodie and damp black yoga pants, you scurry to the other side of the street just in time to avoid being hit by the passing truck.
Cigarette smoke and frigid rain overwhelm your senses, mainly due to the cigarette buds scattered on the motel parking lot.
The motel is okay looking. By no means does it look nice, but it isn’t a hard no.
“Guess this is where I’ll sleep tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You take a brief glance at your surroundings. Night overcame the sky, giving the atmosphere a dark hue but the lights gave you a clear standpoint.
Numerous lights hummed irritatingly, not even a minute passed and you found yourself obtaining a headache. You navigate the main office, which is on the left side of the horseshoe-shaped building, and a blue neon sign points in the direction of the office. You started sauntering over, putting pep in your step when the cold rain declined heavier than it did the last five minutes.
Six months ago, you wouldn’t be having this problem. At least that’s what you believed. You could’ve been at your apartment, catching up on a show you’ve failed to complete thanks to your busy work schedule.
Unfortunately for you, doing a task as simple as watching your television, in your home, was truly impossible. Why? Because the earth you roam isn’t yours, to begin with. Your apartment isn’t yours. The job you work isn’t yours. You aren’t certain you even exist in this universe.
You can’t find the strength to complain. Honestly, you’re delighted to be away from the man who stole you away from society.
Miguel O’Hara.
Otherwise known as Spiderman 2099. You know, the superhero.
It must be confusing to hear that a superhero kidnaped a poor civilian. Superheros don’t normally commit unforgivable acts. Regardless, Miguel didn't care. Miguel is aware he is different from other heroes given his beliefs. Abducting you was just one of the many wrongs Miguel fulfilled.
You just wished you knew his motives at the beginning. If you did, you wouldn't have to search for sanctuary. You wouldn't have to lie low in a different universe.
Before Miguel, you lived a decent life that included a decent job. It was a Tuesday afternoon with sunny weather and clear skies. Your friends invited you to a picnic at the park and, for once having a clear schedule you agreed. You recall the sun beaming down on you, overheating your body to the point shade was a necessity. You moved from the picnic blanket to a nearby bent tree. One moment you're enjoying the shade, the next you're falling. Then something transpired. You jerked in the air, something white clinging to the front of your shirt. You felt your body floating in the air, legs thrashing in fear when your body conceded it was in mid-air.
You must have fainted because you have no recollection of what transpired next. What you do remember was watching through bleary eyes as four strangers hovered over you clearly disputing. Currently, you know them by Jessica Drew, Peter B. Parker, the iron spider, And Miguel O’Hara.
The accountability for your well-being somehow landed in the hands of Miguel. In the beginning, Miguel had such a short patience for you, not that he didn't possess an attitude with anyone else, he just happened to have a really short fuse with you.
His explosive temper with you was undeserving. You hardly gave him any reason to blow up. Your presence alone just pissed him off, at least it appeared so.
You avoided him as much as possible; Departing a room when he entered. Ensuring any errands were accomplished before he arrived home, so you didn't have to leave your room to aggravate him.
Then he began to seek you out; popping up wherever you were in his apartment. Alone watching television on the couch? Not anymore. Miguel joined you on the other side silently watching as well. Sitting silently in the dining room eating lunch? Miguel enters with a bowl of cereal, starting a conversation about the day’s news. Enjoy video games and decide to play by yourself? Miguel grabs a controller and questions the rules and certain controls.
For someone who was as snappy at you as a feral dog, he sure did like to invade your solitude.
By the second month of staying at Miguel’s, he found solace in your presence. He became relaxed. Nice even. And then by the fourth month, you became friends. You never visualized being anything other than friends, but unbeknownst to you, Miguel did.
When you first caught the news of Peter figuring out what universe you belonged to, you were ecstatic. After all, the mystery of your universe's number had been the sole reason for crashing with Miguel and not immediately returning home.
You turned to Miguel, asking when was the appropriate time to drop you off. To your astonishment, Miguel’s brows furrowed, and his lips morphed into a grimace, “you will not be returning.” he affirmed.
Miguel shocked not only you, but everyone witnessing the scene. A gauche silence conquered the atmosphere.
You and Miguel stared at each other for a beat, then you voiced your perplexity. “What do you mean “I will not be returning?” Miguel, I need to go home.” you took a step closer to Miguel.
Miguel gazed at you with an uninterested stare. “What I say goes, (Name). And I say you're staying here.” he spun around, returning to whatever he had been working on before. “We all have a busy schedule and dropping you off will only alter it.”
“It’s not worth it,” he said like he was ending the conversation.
“Okay, then Peter can take me home when he needs to drop off Mayday.” you insisted, looking over at Peter to see if he’d be alright with your plan.
No expression was needed for you to catch on to the attitude Miguel began to gain. “(Name), I won’t tell you twice. The answer is no. Now, Peter take her back to my apartment. We’ll speak about the matter later, at the moment there are more important issues happening.”
You found it laughable. To think the minute you stepped into the man's sight he wanted you gone, but now Miguel was fighting you to stay with him. Ironic, isn’t it?
That night you and Miguel, the very moment he came inside his apartment, quarreled for an hour in a half. Your argument being you did not belong to him and could do whatever you pleased. Miguel’s argument was the insignificance of the matter to him.
You detected Miguel’s temper was starting to get out of hand. The way his fists began to clench, the way his brows creased, and the frown deepened after every sentence he uttered. You’ve seen his strength. His fierceness. And you’d rather leave than have any of his tantrums directed at you. Doing what any rational person would do, you attempted to leave the room. You advised him to de-stress before speaking to you again.
Miguel was having none of it. Not even a second passed before you were yanked back by the forearm.
You’re face-to-face with Miguel. Miguel towered over you, looking down at you with his signature red piercing stare. He bends down, momentarily staring at you until he finally speaks. “I can't allow you to leave.” The way he talks is low and if the room weren't already quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him. “I love you,” he confessed, voice cracking, closing his eyes as if it pained him to say it. He opened his eyes again. “And I won't allow myself to lose any other person I care for.”
Pulling twenty dollars out of the torn-up wallet you found on the side of the road, you slide it forward on the mahogany brown table. The fatigued receptionist glances at the money, then gazes at you with an irked expression.
“This isn’t enough.” She states matter-of-factly. She slides the twenty back to you.
You purse your lips, staring down at the cash. Twenty dollars is all you had. What were you to do now? The next nearest motel could be miles away; it was a miracle you made it to this.
Your eyes flicker back to her. You take two fingers pushing it back to her, giving her your best puppy eyes. “Please! I don't have anywhere else to go tonight. If I can’t stay here I’ll have to sleep on the streets.”
You were lying. You would’ve taken off by dawn, needing to be on the move after getting rested.
Her hardened expression softens. She takes a deep breath, eyes studying the money. Shaking her head, she takes the cash. “One night only, alright?”
You propose to her a smile, nodding with gratitude. She allotted you a key. A small golden-greenish key, with the number five engraved on the head. Tonight you’d sleep on the grounded floor of the motel.
The inside was decently prepared, having a dingy tone that gave off a haunted vibe. You hum in displeasure. Two queen-sized mattresses are positioned on the right side of the wall. They appeared stiff, and the blankets laying upon them looked thinner than a sheet of paper.
Sighing, you softly booted the door shut. Flopping down on the nearest bed, you groan at the sensation of the rough mattress.
When tomorrow comes you’d have to find a fresh location. Miguel could continually find your locale, thanks to not only Lyla but the whole Spider society. Perhaps you postponed his search this time. His watch or gizmo- whatever the hell it was- rests on your wrist.
Shifting your head to the side, pulling your hand out of your pocket, you glance at the gizmo.
Tightly clutched in Miguel’s hold, you stare quietly at the ceiling. You debate acting on your next actions. There were times Miguel slept lightly, aroused by creaks in the floorboard. Other times when the sound of glass shattering did not bother him even a little.
Glancing down at the arm wrapped securely around your midriff, you endeavor to gradually lift his arm up. He unconsciously retaliates, arms consolidating, resulting in a small gasp slipping from your lips. You’re quick to rub his arm, to offer him comfort, and to calm him.
It works. Miguel grumbles, his grasp faulting. You carefully move his arm aside, then unhurriedly get up from the bed.
Before leaving the room you observe Miguel. Miguel sleeps soundly, an angry expression inscribed on his face. But he is asleep, so you take your chance while you are able.
Tiptoeing into the kitchen, you immediately spot the gizmo on the marble counter. Compared to the technology you have at home, it was top-notched, a huge improvement. Of course, he lived in the year 2099. Obviously, there would be a difference in technology.
You grabbed the gizmo, examining the complexity. From monitoring the spider people using them, you know it’ll take you wherever universe you request. Great. However, you weren’t a spider person. If you teleported in the middle of the air, you couldn't grapple on the closest object with a web. Or claw your way down a building
Fuck it.
If dying meant escaping him, then so be it.
You didn’t really mean that. Every time you went to teleport to a different universe, you cringed retreating your hand.
“Jesus! Alright, I'm doing this!” you softly berated yourself. Bracing for the impact of the possible fall you might face, you shut your eyes tight and twisted the gizmo. “Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground!” you cried.
How long would it take them to find you? How far could you get?
God, being on the run was stressful.
Your eyes flutter closed, plush pillows luling your tired mind. ‘I should get some sleep’ you thought. Warmth spread throughout your numbing body, as you finally permitted yourself to sleep.
When you awake gasping for air, almost as if you’d been suffocating. Instantly you arise, a hand rushing to your chest confirming it still thumped with a beating heart. Your skin is sticky with cold sweat, making your clothes uncomfortably cling to your body. “What the fuck?” you barely uttered, mouth arid.
Suddenly you had a gut feeling to check the window. You stand, groggily walking toward the large window adjacent to the front door. Pinching the hem of the curtain, you haul it aside.
The night is still pristine, the stars glowing in the dark sky. Nothing seems out of place. And yet you continue to have that gut feeling. Look outside, there’s something outside. Your eyes move to the parking lot.
You see it.
Blue and red. Something blue and red is making its way toward the motel. Squinting, you can make out what it is. Miguel. It's Miguel!
“Oh, shit!” you expressed, dropping the curtain. Wasting no time you locked the bottom and top locks. You veered around, frantically searching for a place to hide. You are no fool. Locking the door was simply a distraction; Miguel would tear the door off its hinges in a second.
Hiding underneath the bed is a childish strategy. That and hiding underneath the covers. Still, you drop to your knees, squeezing underneath the bed, using the blankets to cover any spaces revealing you. Pressing the palm of your hand against both your mouth and nose, you listen closely to everything around you.
At first, all you hear is the air conditioning blowing cool air, and the people next door’s baby weeping. Then you hear it. The doorknob oscillation. Your eyes widen, fear causing your breath to hitch. When the door refuses to open, the person behind the door commences kicking in the door. One kick achieves them access to the room. The door slams against the wall, shaking the ground, sending a vibration under you.
“¿Qué carajo?” you know that voice anywhere. It’s Miguel speaking in his native language. A habit Miguel has when he’s angered or stressed. “¿Dónde está ella?” Miguel snaps, striding into the room with anger-powered steps.
You can see through the tiny slit in the blankets, Miguel turning to the table where you placed the gizmo. Miguel picks up the gizmo, putting it back on his wrist.
He shifts his concentration to finding you. He calls out your name, malice dripping from the way he shouts it. He disappears from sight, presumingly moving on to the bathroom. Many things are heard being tossed around. Miguel probably was looking for evidence of you staying here, apart from the gizmo.
You gather the courage to, oh, so carefully stretch your leg out, then proceed to quietly shuffle from under the bed. You waste no time, rushing out the door, feet bare without socks or shoes. The gravel burns the soles of your feet, scraping and imprinting on the skin.
You practically succeeded in leaving the lot until you caught a glimpse of what stalked behind you. On all fours, Miguel sprinted at you, claws scuffing the concrete, like a predator running after its prey.
“Holy shit! What the actual fuck!” you panic aloud, taking your eye off what was in front of you, your mind solely focusing on the man hunting you. Big mistake on your part. A concrete parking block is in your way, but you don’t see it. You jolt forward, tripping over the block, your other foot catching you before you hit the road.
Just when you thought you still had the chance of running away, you’re sorely mistaken. Miguel pounces on you, and the clash of your bodies colliding results in Miguel tumbling down the road, you secure in his arms.
The tumble ends; you’re struggling not to vomit, head resting on Miguel’s firm chest. The world spins. It’s easy to forget your position when the urge to throw up is fresh.
Miguel holds your head, pressing a myriad of kisses on every part of the skin visible, muttering with his eyes closed. “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.” He sounds so frantic, reciting those same words, his tongue stumbling over the utterances.
His eyelids raise, uncovering his red orbs. He presses his forehead against yours, staring deeply into your eyes. It’s a domestic stunt that makes your stomach churn. “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.” he huffs, then continues, “I’m happy you’re alright. I don’t know what I'd do if I lost you, mi alma.”
Taking your hand, he places a soft kiss on the back. “Had an anomaly harmed you, I would have ripped their fucking throat out!”
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Translations
- “¿Qué carajo?”/ what the fuck?
- “¿Dónde está ella?”/ where is she?
- “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.”/ I should be furious with you, but I'm not.
- “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.”/ thank god you’re okay.
- mi alma/ my soul
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bweoo · 11 months
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"This time I'll make sure to not let you go away."
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Yandere Miguel O`hara with pregnant reader
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Miguel would be really overprotective during your pregnancy.
And he would be overprotective anyway…
But now he's 100 times more overprotective.
Miguel has already lost one child.
And he's definitely not going to lose another one.
Most likely, during your pregnancy, you won't even be able to leave the apartment you two share.
And if you don't… well he has a whole spider society to keep you safe.
You probably have Stockholm syndrome during this time.
If you don't have one, I'm sure you'll get one.
Miguel would be surprisingly soft during your pregnancy.
He would like to be around you a lot.
Miguel also makes sure you get everything you need.
He wants to ensure the birth of his baby.
Miguel would also give more physical affection.
Surely he would give you a lot of massage and stroke your belly.
Miguel would also not give punishments during your pregnancy.
Of course he would be mad if you broke the rules.
But Miguel would try his best to remain calm… K
eyword would try
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explosiongamora · 6 months
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Being mostly unloved your whole life with out much attention from people around you 🤝 loving obsessive yandere characters
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floatyflowers · 3 months
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Dark Platonic Father! Spiderman x reader
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Peter Parker never imagined ending up as a single young father.
But it happened, and he doesn't regret it at all, even though it is hard to take care of a child while being a superhero.
Adding to that, he is keeping his identity a secret from you.
Why? because you have phobias from spiders
He always makes sure you get to school on time and helps you with your homework.
Spiderman is incredibly protective of you, always making sure you're safe and sound, even if it means breaking a few bones while saving the world.
Peter is your biggest fan, cheering you on from the sidelines at every performance you do.
And if a parent or a student makes fun of you, he doesn't mind paying them a visit and 'putting them in their places'
And by that, I mean he scares the living hell out of them.
Even if he is always busy, but all his free time is spent with you, because he believes his life should revolve around him.
So imagine his shock when he discovered that you have friends.
He felt betrayed
Yes, he flew to their houses dressed as Spiderman and made them swear to stay away from you or he will eat them alive.
Maybe it's Venom who is starting to effect his behaviour.
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yanderestarangel · 8 months
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☆𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♡
TW: Yandere themes, manipulation, daddy issues lightly considered, rough sex, non con, dub con, Daddykink, manipulation,age gap, reader is of legal age, nsfw, smut, blood, death citation, bites, bloodkink, Dark!Miguel O'Hara, vaginal sex, creampie, AFAB READER, Pet names, DILF! Miguel O'Hara.
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You really didn't know how you ended up in that situation, your life turned upside down overnight.
You were a normal person, you had a best friend, a monotonous and routine life, always doing the same things over and over, repeating the days every week or month, but you liked it, it was your pattern. until Miguel O'Hara came into your life.
Miguel met you through an unfortunate coincidence, he was the father of Briella, the little girl you were hired to take care of and give tutoring in literature and grammar after college classes, you accepted because you needed money and enjoyed teaching the little girl but I had never seen her father's face, Miguel always left early for work which no one knew exactly what it was, he always tried to be punctual, not wanting to leave his daughter in your hands more than necessary so as not to bother you, but he had been late that day, and that's when it all started.
You taught Briella peacefully, a few books spread across the white marble table while you recited some tale by 'Edgar Allan Poe' requested by Briella herself, Miguel was an hour late that day, having been trapped on a mission in the Spider Society, fighting against another anomaly, but it took off running and throwing red webs home quickly.
Miguel composed himself as he entered the house, soon encountering you, your aura light and angelic even, your features, your body covered by the soft fabrics of your clothes, the world of O'Hara stopped there, he felt the heat in his chest, such warmth that he had not known that his Briella's mother and his late wife had died, but now you were there, before him, like a graceful and beautiful angel.
You could have sworn you saw two red hearts in the older man's irises, and it was strangely disturbing, Miguel's lower lip trembled with anticipation and desire, a desire to make you his, physically and emotionally, body and soul, every particle and The atom of his being, wholly O'Hara's, was his new life goal and he would do anything to get what he wanted.
You two spoke quickly and he apologized, trying to keep his composure and not do anything stupid in front of his daughter or scare you, but from that day on, your monotonous life wasn't so monotonous anymore, you felt someone watching over you, someone was around, you could feel it and it was awful.
Miguel also strangely increased the time you were supposed to teach Briella, the problem is that every time you went, the little girl wasn't there but her father, Miguel, always with a warm smile but masked by something darker, something that slowly surface of the "Good single dad" facade, and soon you fell into his Perfect facade, to your bad luck.
Miguel started giving you very expensive gifts or extra money, even if you denied it, he always said the same sentence.
"-Don't worry mi carinõ, that's nothing, you are an angel in my life and my daughter's." - Miguel would speak with a smile of white teeth and a little shaky as he watched your body and face.
𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌
𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝑶'𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌
𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒂𝒏
𝑨 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖&lt;3
Soon the manifestations of possession would start, mainly manipulation, he would talk like a "concerned father" because you are younger than him, but in reality he would just use some of his mental and family instability to bring you into the web of possession it, especially if you have Daddy issues.
He will love to know that.
He'll be everything you want him to be, he'll start taking care of you, calling you "My good boy/girl" every time you do something nice or warm to him and Briella, complimenting you on how you look, asking if you ate or remembering how important you are, even if they are Miguel's genuine concerns, he will also use this to manipulate you and keep you close, you are his after all, even if you don't know it yet.
Bonus: he would force you to call him "Daddy", "Papi", "Papito" or "Sir" as a form of respect (But he knew it was for his own satisfaction, as a title that marked that you were his to him do whatever he wanted, you were his to own and keep, you are the love of his life whether you like it or not.)
Miguel will also push any love interest out of his life, regardless of sex or gender, he is an influential man in the multiverse and powerful, both physically and in status.
He will manipulate you so much that you will find yourself locked in his mansion with a luxurious and comfortable room, with no access to the outside world, just him and Briella, Miguel will manipulate Briella into believing that you are going to be her new Dad/Mom, while smiling little girl believed tall mexican's lies.
"-Oh that was your boyfriend? I'm sorry dear/sweetheart, his muscles were no use after all."
-Miguel would speak with a malicious and psychotic smile with fangs dirty with human blood. You will never leave there and if you try Miguel will punish you severely, either with poison bites, paralyzing you for a few minutes.
Leaving sexual pheromones and making you writhe with pain and lust and you won't be able to touch yourself, with Miguel watching you with a malicious and cruel smile.
Or worst case scenario, fuck you mercilessly, he'll thrust his cock inside you without warning after lubricating it with a little saliva and his fingers, with all his strength, trapping your body underneath him easily, while you listened to the older man moan and growl words of possession as he felt his cock hit your uterus and rise in your womb, while Miguel growled.
"-You are... Fuck so tight... (Y/N) you should have just stayed quiet, why did you try to run away from me? Don't you like your Daddy Miguel anymore? Hm?" - Miguel would speak in a mocking tone as he struck harder, holding your hips and leaving painful marks on your flesh with the tip of his claws.
"-I'll fuck your fucking brains out if you keep being a shitty brat, just obey me and everything will be fine."
- Miguel would speak with a sadistic and cruel voice, while he played with your clitoris with strength and anger, while he continued to stick his dick in your tight pussy, a painful and delicious mixture, you couldn't take it anymore, it was the fifth orgasm of the night, but Miguel wasn't going to stop, he never was.
"-I would destroy everything for you and build everything again from the ashes if you asked me to, and you still say I don't love you?" - Miguel O'Hara would speak with a few tears of pleasure in his eyes as he came inside you, painting your pussy with hot, thick cum, biting your neck hard and leaving a painful trail of blood and vicious bites.
♡Some quotes from Yandere Miguel O'Hara♡:
"-I really don't think you should try to get rid of me. If you try again I swear I'll make them all suffer in front of you."
"I really would hate to hurt you but you don't give me any choice darling/dear."
"I finally found you. You are so silly aren't you? You really need a punishment."
"You can't run away from me my love. If you leave my side I swear I will kill anyone who tries to help you leave my side and I would kill myself in front of you."
"I adore you so much, I would literally rip my heart out and give it to you, kneel at your feet and kiss the ground you walk on."
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yanmaresu · 9 months
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Yandere! ???! Miguel O'hara x Fem! darling // AU
CW: yandere, nonconsensual touching, it is implied a confessionary is going to get used in not the most respectful way, Idk if it counts as blasphemy but well ┐('- ` )┌
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Full pic + versions with different looking mc below the read more
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Is he a demon? is he a witch? a nahual? Idk but I watched La leyenda del charro negro when it came out and the whole turning into ashes and fire thing the guy did had an impact in my tender heart back then.
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huicitawrites · 11 months
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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
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"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
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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.
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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!
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sweet-as-an-angel · 11 months
Text
Yandere Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
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Warnings: 18+, Depictions of Smut, Implied Non-Con, Breeding, Kidnapping, Restraining, Yandere Miguel, Obsessive Miguel, Possessive Miguel, Implied Female Reader, Implied Gender-Neutral Reader, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.
You took him in after you found him collapsed on the rooftop of your apartment, a thick, bleeding gouge along his side. And, initially, he was very suspicious of you, found your generosity – your eagerness to clean and dress his wound, to bring him a fresh change of clothes, to offer him a warm meal – a cause for alarm.
But, you made your intentions with him quite clear; that you only wished to help, to make sure he was fully-healed before he descended upon the world once more.
He did try to leave. Truly, he did. But your proclamations that he needed rest and the nice warm bed you’d offered him forced his body to succumb before his mind did.
As convincing as you may be, Miguel is still highly cautious of you. Tuning into his senses, trying to detect poison in his food or a hidden enemy in your apartment.
But, for the days he’s there, Miguel picks up nothing.
You tell him about yourself – anything and everything he’d like to know – often sitting by his side and answering every question he asks of you: your name, your job; the basics. And, eventually, he opens up to you. Marginally. Tells you a little bit about why he’s here.
He only tells you he - and his associates – are in pursuit of a highly dangerous target. Of course, he omits the part about the fate of the Multiverse hanging squarely on the success of this mission, and he just can’t seem to bring himself to as your eyes fill with wonder and curiosity, your attention solely on him.
And he can’t help but indulge you when you ask him if he has any stories about his time as a superhero.
He relents. Tells you of missions which bear little weight on the universe you reside in – nothing that could endanger you should you tell another soul. And you listen with an eagerness he wished his subordinates would display, even if only for theatrics’ sake.
You tell him how lucky the world is to have a hero like him – how lucky you are to even be talking to him, seeing as you’re just a civilian.
Your earnest nature makes something in him tick. Something he can’t place his finger on.
As the days fly by, he finds himself racking his brain for more stories to tell you, more tales to regale where he comes out on top, ever the hero he is.
It helps bury some of the guilt that lingers in his heart, fractals of a universe he’s shattered. Makes him feel as if he’s not entirely a failure.
Whenever you leave the apartment – for work or for shopping – Miguel wanders around, watches some TV, formulates his game plan for when he has to leave.
That last one brings him a little too much anxiety for his liking, so he often finds himself thinking of you instead to ease his nerves.
Something, initially, he’s somewhat shocked by. But the longer he does it, the more natural it feels. The more vivid his daydreams become.
He tries never to let them stray into lewd territory, but after he accidentally caught sight of you undressing, his mind has been urging him to visit some...unsavoury places.
He only permits brief trips there when you’re out of the house, and never for very long.
The two of you fall into a routine while he’s healing; you come home and prepare him dinner, he comes and helps you – even when you tell him he should be resting. Then, you eat together and watch a film.
One evening, close to his departure – Miguel knows he hasn’t long with you left – you fell asleep on him, your face resting on his shoulder.
He dared not move for fear of disturbing you, losing you.
Then, his heart…fluttered.
And, as you slept soundly on him, with all the trust in the world, he realised that nobody had been this close to him – physically – since…
Since he lost his universe.
The idea that someone could take this for granted, the simple act of trust, that they could take advantage of yours, shot through him, a bullet of realisation. And the pain only sears as he looks upon your face, oblivious to the thoughts racing through his mind, through the minds of others – criminals and low-lifes who would kill you for no reason.
He couldn’t leave you.
Not here, and not on your own.
He knows it’s selfish, but, in another vein, he believes he’s saving you. Being the hero you see him as.
The next day, he’s fully-healed. And he has a proposition for you.
“Go…with you ?” you say, eyebrow raised. “Miguel, I don’t underst-”
“You don’t need to,” he says. “But what you do need to know is that you’re not safe here.”
“What makes you think that ?” You cross your arms over your chest, as if to contain – hide – the suspicion growing there. Miguel brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubs it, tilts his head back.
“Listen, I just know things– things that make me qualified to tell you that you, on your own, in this universe, are not safe.”
Miguel knows he’s getting nowhere with you. Especially since he made no effort to explain his multiversal goings-ons to you when he first arrived. So, he shows you.
He takes you by the hand and, willingly, you go with him. To him, that’s confirmation – submission. Your compliance with his whims.
He brings you to a universe where everything is oddly…liminal. Like an early 2010’s Microsoft desktop wallpaper. Just green hills, a distant forest encircling the land, and a house. Big enough to fit a family of considerable size.
Made to fit you and Miguel.
By the time you realise anything’s wrong, out of the ordinary (aside from being shown inter-dimensional travel), Miguel’s dropping a bombshell on you.
“This is your new home,” he says, standing behind you. He’s so close you can feel his warmth against your back. He places a hand on your shoulder. Squeezes it. “Our new home.”
Any shock that overcomes you is overpowered with the sense of dread that you’ve walked right into Miguel’s trap. That, just as he’d warned you, someone had taken advantage of your kind, trusting nature.
You can fight as much as you want, but Miguel’s got his heart set on you. And your future here.
You see, while you were caring for Miguel, showing him the concern and attentiveness he’s been starved of for years, his mind had begun to wander. Wondered what you’d be like with him if you were always together. Wondered how you’d act if you were to care for a child. 
His child.
He’ll try to convince you of this ideal, that this is right and is what’s best for you, but if you keep resisting, you’ll see his possessive side emerge. His anger.
Red eyes, pinning you to the wall, nostrils flared; he is not losing you. And if he needs to frighten you into this new life, then so be it. Though, he wants you to adjust naturally, to want what he wants, to, dare he say, love him as he loves you.
And if you’re not going to submit to him willingly, he’ll take it by force.
If you’re capable of bearing children, he creates a strict regiment wherein he takes you, filling you with his load. At first, this was once a day – every two days if he was busy.
Initially, he’d string you up to the ceiling by your legs after finishing, “To make sure it takes,” he told you. And it doesn’t matter how hard you struggle; his webs are steadfast. Stubborn.
But, as he became more ravenous, more enemaoured by the prospect of keeping you, of breeding you, he became sloppy. Desperate. The thought of you swollen with his offspring hits him while he’s at work, during the downtime between missions.
At which point he just takes care of himself, panting your name in the bathroom stall before finishing and returning to work as normal.
Then it became more frequent, occurring while he’s on missions, during integral moments. At this point, he tries to suppress it, save it for later. After all, it’s not like he has a choice.
And that’s when he’d come and pay you a midnight visit, girthy and stiff and eyes red with the carnal need to fill you again and again until your stomach bulged.
That regime he’d set up unravelled, and now he takes you at every convenience, every chance he gets, pinning you to a web and making sure you can’t struggle if you’re particularly resistant.
At first, he did feel guilty about this; guilty that he was the one hurting you, causing you to cry, to beg for him not to finish inside you as you told him you weren’t ready to have a child.
And, during this period, he would wear his mask. He thought it would offer him some protection against your tear-streaked, anguished stare, your pleas for him to let you go, to return you home.
It didn’t.
He tries to comfort you, to tell you that you’ll “Love being a parent – just give it a chance,” as he pumps his hot load into you, holding you close to him.
Depending on his mood, he can be very gentle or very rough.
When he’s gentle, he whispers in your ear, tells you how much you mean to him, how he loves you more than you’ll ever know.
When he’s rough, he’s merciless. And gone is the tender love he’d subject you to, replaced with growls and claims that he needs you, that he won’t stop fucking you until you’re filled with his offspring.
He has a web created specifically for when he breeds you – where he attaches you to it upside down, making sure your chances of pregnancy are maximised. He fucks you here too, sometimes. And while blood is rushing to your head from being upside down, Miguel’s pounding the life out of you, panting, sweating, moaning your name.
He can go for many, many rounds. His superhuman stamina and strength make him unstoppable when it comes to you.
He’ll keep going long after you’ve finished or while you’re unconscious and exhausted from his barrage, never ceasing until he stuffs his cum into you, holding you to him, pressing kisses to your face as he tells you what a good job you’ve done, how well you’ve taken him.
If you do end up pregnant, Miguel is never letting you go.
You can say goodbye to any chances of getting back to your universe when he finds out you’re bearing his child.
And you can’t hide it from him, either. His hearing and perception tell him you’re expecting even before you’re aware of it.
By that point, the only thing you can do is just accept that this is your life now. Doing so early on will make your existence with Miguel little more than bearable. Because if you aren’t excited or tolerant of this child, Miguel will string you up in your bedroom.
“For your own good,” he tells you, his eyes flickering down to your stomach. His eyes soften, fill with warmth. “And the baby’s.”
If he suspects you’ll try to hurt yourself or the baby, he’ll take drastic measures to ensure neither of those things happen; restraining you, placing you into an induced sleep, cocooning you.
If you can’t have children, he’ll simply take one from another universe and tell you that the two of you will raise them together.
If he suspects anyone or anything else is going to try to hurt you or the baby, he’ll destroy it. No questions asked.
He’s indiscriminate, too.
Even if it were one of his associates – someone he’s worked alongside for years – they’re all superficial to him.
His only concern is you.
And he’ll make sure you’re loved and cared for forever.
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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faesdreaming · 11 months
Text
Yandere Miguel O’Hara Headcanons
a/n: there are two routes platonic and romantic, which will be bolded and colour-coded like this, please forgive my spanish i am breaking out my high school spanish classes.
tw: yandere themes, possessive, obsessive, and controlling behaviour, potential spoilers, suggestive themes (romantic route), captivity, canonical inaccuracies, implied neglect (platonic route)
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•Becoming the hero Arachnid wasn’t something you ever planned on happening. You were just going about your regular, every day life when a radioactive spider bit you. The spider that bit you gave you amazing powers that you utilized to become the amazing, the one and only friendly neighbourhood Arachnid! Then, you were suddenly pulled into another dimension that was almost exactly like yours and discovered that you weren’t the only one of well you after all.
•You, alongside other spider-themed heroes, joined forces against Kingpin in order to return to your home dimensions. However, that wasn’t your last adventure with the multiverse. Your next encounter would occur a few months after your first misadventure. Having finished fighting the Green Goblin, you were ready to end the night there. Then, a portal similar to the one that brought you to Miles’ dimension opened up. Out came a tall, well-muscled Spider-Man and a Spider-Woman
•They introduced themselves as Miguel O’Hara and Jessica Drew and informed of the Spider society they’d formed. You were offered membership by them. Well, by Jessica. Miguel was staying silent. You don’t know why, but you felt as though he was watching you. He was, of course, he was right in front of you, but this felt eerie. Your senses were telling you something was wrong but Jessica was so nice and you really were excited and honoured to be given such an opportunity. So, you take it.
Romantic Route:
•Miguel stared at you intently. He’d been watching you for a while now, observing. You resemblance was uncanny— you looked exactly like his spouse. Not his spouse exactly, but the one the other had. You looked like the partner that Miguel had grown to love alongside his daughter. A variant of them. Although he was initially against you joining, it would be easier to watch you— look out for you if you joined the lobby.
•After your acceptance, Miguel tasked Jessica with guiding you around the lobby. He didn’t trust anyone else and he couldn’t bare to do it himself. He couldn’t handle himself around you. It wasn’t just your appearance that was uncanny, it was everything. You mannerisms, habits, likes, interests, everything. How Miguel yearned for you. Yearned to feel your touch, your kiss. Yearned for the happiness he once knew.
•But that would break the canon, wouldn’t it? The memories of his world, his family fading from existence because he broke the canon. He couldn’t let that happen again. So, he behaved coldly towards you. But as Miguel continued to watch you and interact with you, he started to doubt. You were a variant of his partner, but your dimension didn’t have a variant of Miguel O’Hara. Perhaps, he rationalized, this was canon. Your fates were meant to be intertwined. He needed you and you needed him. That was canon.
•Miguel strikes when you least expect. Spends weeks carefully planning. He stalks you, memorizes your routine to a point. He assigns you a mission, not overly-difficult but not easy. Something to tire you out. With your senses dulled and the weariness from the fight left you susceptible to his attack. Quickly, stealthily and by surprise, he subdued you. His sharp fangs biting into the tender skin of your neck, paralyzing you.
•When you come to, you find yourself in an unfamiliar room. Yet there are familiar objects lying around; trinkets and photos that had disappeared. Your spidey-senses were going off the rails and that’s when he came.
“Miguel?”
•He tells you you’re here for your safety and for the safety of your dimension. Swears you’re meant to be with him, that it’s canon. Warns you of the consequences if you break the canon. You stare at him, intaking his audacity. Then, you shriek at him. Call him out on his absolute bull. Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He ignores your screeching and leaves. Obviously, you’re still in shock. You’ll come around.
•Almost a month later, lo and behold, you still haven’t come around to being pliant with your captor. Miguel is a man of many things, but patience is not one. He is so very tired, having to deal with Lyla’s teasing and the other Spider’s bullshit. Is it too much to ask to come home to his loving spouse? Just like he used to.
•Apparently, it is. Seeing as you aren’t his spouse, but someone he locked up, you scream at him. Unholy screeches whenever you see him. Today, Miguel’s had enough. Large hands wrap around you and slam you against the headboard of the bed you’re chained too.
“Enough.” He hisses. “¡Mierda! I won’t hear it. ¿Me entienden? You stay here. If the safety of the multiverse won’t convince then maybe the safety of your aunt will.”
•The moment the vague threat passes over you freeze entirely. You’ve lost almost everyone, everyone but her. Carefully, you suck in air. Large tears brim at the edges of your eyes. as you look Miguel directly in the eyes. His eyes, dark and dangerous, bore back into yours.
“Please Miguel,” you whisper. “I’ll stay. I’m sorry. Don’t hurt her.”
•Miguel softens at your submission. However, he still doesn’t trust you. He pulls himself off you and stalks out, leaving you laying on the bed, dazed. From that day forewords, you become more compliant. You listen to Miguel and don’t fight him. Miguel knows that he can’t keep you locked away forever. People were asking questions. With your ‘good’ behaviour, you’ll be granted more privileges. More freedom, if that’s what you can call it. You’ll never truly be free, trapped under Miguel’s watchful eyes. But you’re able to go into the lobby again. To talk with people, even if you do so bearing Miguel’s marks. You know you can’t escape him, not when he could take away the little you had left, not when he would hunt you down through every universe. For now, you know you can’t escape Miguel’s grip.
Platonic Route:
•When Miguel saw you for the first time, he felt the world stop around him. It was as though there was nobody else but you and him. You, who was the only variant of his dead child that wasn’t truly his. He watched as you swung around, mocking villains and making clever quips. Miguel’s heart ached for you, for himself, for his dead daughter and child. As he watched you, memories of holding his child as they died because of him resurface. Once more, does Miguel feel the bitter sting of grief and loss.
•Oh, how Miguel desires to hold you, to cradle you close and never let go. But he can’t, he won’t. You’re not his child. You’re not the child he failed to protect. No, you’re a child he can protect. Thus, his decision to allow you to join the spider-society, if only to watch over you and protect you. Your family clearly isn’t doing a good job at it. Miguel spends more time than necessary looking after you. Not that he meant to, of course. You were just so vulnerable. You needed guidance. You may have been s superhero but you were also a child.
•Under Miguel’s guidance you thrive. He teaches you proper fighting techniques, improves your web-shooters and other tech you have and acts as the father figure you need. His teaching method is firm yet gentle. Miguel remains stern, however, everyone notices how soft he is with you. Life is good in the lobby. To be honest, sometimes you consider staying forever. Or more accurately, Miguel implies you should.
•Yes, he was originally not going to interfere. But it was you who made the decision to stay, so obviously that meant something. And Miguel wouldn’t lie, whenever you returned to your Earth to fulfill your duties as Arachnid, he could barely think he was so worried. Every villain encounter, every scrape and bruise is another chance to fail to protect his child. Miguel gets more desperate over time. Your time in the lobby is almost exclusively spent with him. Every mission is with him, every meal is with him, almost every moment is spent by Miguel’s side. And honestly? You’re starting to get s little sick of it.
•Not that you were complaining. You’re so grateful for the opportunities Miguel gave you, but he’s so overbearing. Maybe it’s normal, you rationalize, you’re family isn’t very close. Besides, you’ve seen Peter B. Parker with Mayday. Even Miguel isn’t that clingy. Your senses are blaring danger and to get away, but your yearning for love and affection suppress them. You continue to push down your instincts until you can’t. Until you decide to listen to your doubts— only to prove them wrong, of course. However, just your luck, your instincts are proven correct. You discover a goddamn tracker implanted in your arm.
•Finally, everything clicks. Everything Miguel does? Not normal! Just creepy, especially this. Thus, you decide to leave. You dig out your tracker and stitch the wound back up. You leave the tracker where you know Miguel will find it and leave, discarding your portal bracelet. You return to your Earth for the final time, intent on never leaving again.
•When Miguel returns to find your tracker and no trace of you, he goes ballistic. You left, he can’t protect you. You’ll get hurt, you’ll die. Miguel can’t risk losing you. He travels to your Earth in search of you. There, he tracks you down to find you losing badly against the Green Goblin. You’re clutch your ribs, bruised and bloody. The moment he sees you like this, Miguel enters a blazing fury. He attacks the Goblin viciously, pounding him until a sickening crunch is heard and the Goblin’s neck snaps. You collapse, from your injuries and the shock of witnessing Miguel kill the Goblin.
•Your chest seizes, hyperventilating. You can hear your heart beat racing as Miguel turns to you. He watches you panic and slowly paces towards you. You attempt to scoot away, but you can barely move. Miguel’s mask is off. You can see his eyes being filled with the same eerie softness as the day you met. Carefully, he leans down and large hands grasp onto you. You struggle as best you can, squirming despite the pain.
“¡Ay! Cariño.” He admonishes gently. “Be still, you’ll hurt yourself.”
•Regardless of his orders, you continue to squirm. Sighing, Miguel extended his fangs and bit down on your neck. Paralyzed, you fall limp in his arms. Carefully, he maneuvers you so to not hurt you. He cradles you to his chest as he inspects you over.
“We’ll get you checked out when we go to your new room. ¿Estàts bien?”
•Unable to do anything, you lay helpless in Miguel’s arms as he takes you to your new fancy prison cell— or room as he calls it. From there, you’ll be safe. Somewhere only Miguel knows, a place he can be certain he can protect you. Yes, you’ll stay locked away in your gilded cage, guarded by Miguel. Safe from the world, from every threat but him.
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an-ambivalent · 10 months
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Yandere! Miguel x Fem! Reader
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Warnings: As this is yandere fiction, this deals with behaviours  that can be uncomfortable to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional, I do not condone this behaviour irl. THIS WORK HAS SPECIFIC WARNINGS OF: noncon and menstruation oral sex. IF AFTER READING THIS DISCLAIMER, YOU CHOOSE TO CLICK the ‘read more/keep reading’ you are consenting to read this at your discretion.
I hate myself for writing this so whatever.
Yandere! Miguel, who's spider instincts activate when you're menstruating and he loves to eat you out.
He starts of so gentle - he tenderly massages your thighs, and puts them over his shoulder. Then, he leaves a trial of soft kisses, and gentle nips on your inner thighs before inevitably, he's right in front of your heat. It feels vile because your aversed by the smell yourself, and just want to rest. Its painful, and you're cramping. The painkillers are making your head fuzzy and you're drowsy - you just want to sleep. But Miguel won't let you. Not when its his time to feast.
Sure, there is a smell, but his spider finds it delightful. You might be against it, but his spider loves it. Yearns for it every month, and needs his share of it.
He licks the single trail of blood dripping down your thigh, before following it to your outter lips. There's no time to focus on how only his warm breath is enough to cause goosebumps to arise at the back of your neck because the sensory receptors being kissed on your outter lips shoots chills through your nerves, and up to your spine.
Your back arches, and a loud moan leaves your lips as Miguel swipes his tongue at that perfect spot just beneath the skin of your inner lips. The pain from cramps feels worse, but there's also a start of pleasure. Your breath hitches, and one of your hands combs through his hairlocks, before clutching them tightly, and the other clutching the sheets beneath you.
"M-Miguel, plea, please s-stop. Its going to be too, ah, too p-painful." You beg. Miguel simply ignores you and continues his passionate makeout session with your lower region. His licks go deeper, more frantic, more depraved. Like he was a starved beast who was finally given a meal. Then, as the pleasure pressure built up, it collapsed. You exhale a drowsy sigh in bliss, actually feeling better temporarily. But that bliss subsides into anxiety, because you know from precious experiences that this isn't where it ends. It always ends in pain.
Miguel shamelessly laps at your mixed release of cum and blood. Now that you had released once, and were more relaxed physically, it was easier to go deeper.
With as much strength as you could muster in your weak and exhausted state, you pulled on his hair with all of your strength and shook your head.
"Miguel, please. Please, I'm begging you, let's stop here. I feel better now, anything more will hurt. Please, let's stop here for today, you know my first days are the worst. We'll do whatever you want tomorrow, I promise. I can take it better tomorrow. Please, just ignore your spider today and think about me for once-"
"Mi amor I always think about you. But you know, this is the only thing I ask for. I know it hurts for you, but now is the best time for me. You can take it, you're a strong chica, I know you can. I promise I'll try to be as gentle as possible," He whispered softly, and kissed your right inner thigh reassuringly. Then, he nipped one of your outter lips playfully with his sharp teeth, you yelped at the sensation. You tried to pull away, but were unable to, because Miguel gripped your thighs firmly.
"Now, try not to move too much, and just relax. It'll be fun for both of us, I promise."
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