Yandere Spiderman - Tumblr Posts
𖥔 ࣪ ㅤ۪ 🪷 🪺 ⸺ 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 !
♫ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 — 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞
˚ ✩ 🚃 ｡ ˚ ✧ * ｡ 🧅
𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬
( 📦 ) . . . 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗕𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗞 𝗠𝗬 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡, 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗲𝗹 𝗼’𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻.
( 📦 ) . . . 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗜𝗦 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘, 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗲𝗹 𝗼’𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮, 𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗲𝘀, 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗼𝗯𝗶𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂.
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
( 📦 ) . . . 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗲𝘁.
𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
( 📦 ) . . . 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗲𝘁.
𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬
( 📦 ) . . . 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗲𝘁.
𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕪. 𝕤𝕙𝕖/𝕙𝕖𝕣/𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤. 𝕝𝕚𝕓𝕣𝕒🍒
߷߷߷
𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛
𝕤𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕤🌹🌹
𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕪’𝕤 𝕣𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕤🌷🌷
߷߷߷
𝕨.𝕚.𝕡 -what i’m currently working on
𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕤 — tbd
"This time I'll make sure to not let you go away."
POV: You're an average superhero and suddenly a guy from the future comes up to you saying you and him are supposed to be together.
Miguel holding y/n down after chasing them when they inevitably ran. 😏
Someone is in trouble :3c
What kind of yandere you think is Miguel? I see him possessive, obsesive and stalking. Im not sure about sadistic...
LoVe your work 💖
Miguel is definitely a obsessive, protective and possessive type, but I also see him as "the silent-yandere that you only notices there's something wrong with him when it's too late" too.
I'm also not sure about Miguel being a sadistic, he might be strict person but I don't think he enjoys hurting you... He's just... Scared to lose you, so sometimes he might act a bit agressive but it's for your own good.
And thank you! ❤️
Sweet Dreams are Made of This ✧a lewd Peter Parker imagine✧
Peter’s entire body shuddered when the tip of his cock sheathed itself inside of you. The warmth was incomparable. Unlike anything! The way he felt, being connected to you this way was a religious experience and he wasn’t even inside yet.
“Y/n. Y/n. Y/n.” He moaned your name to himself like a prayer as he steadily rocked his hips. Trying so hard to burn this memory into his brain. He never wanted to forget. Let this be the last memory that flashes through his mind when he dies, please.
The shallow mewls that fell from your lips wracked him with more shivers and he leaned forward to press his sweat slick forehead to your own, chocolate curls brushing your brow.
“Y/n look at me. Look at me, baby.” Your eyes previously squeezed shut opened to blink up at him. So close, everything was so close, but there was no where else you wanted to be.
“A-are—” a moan cut him off. He’s trying so hard to hold back. So hard to keep his hips still and from thrusting into you down to the hilt until the only thing that matters to you is him. Every instinct is screaming for him to ravage you now until neither of you can move or pull yourselves apart, but this has to be perfect.
This is your moment together.
“Are you ready?” For me. For This. For what we’re going to do, something I’ll never let you turn back from.
A trembling hand moves to cup your cheek, warm against his calloused palm. The other hand sneaks low to caress your throbbing sex and the sharp buck you involuntarily give has his eyes almost rolling to the back of his skull.
Your hand cups his, you’re shivering beneath him and so ready he can almost taste it.
Your other hand brushes his aside to gently touch the point where you two connect. His length flushes, he’s so aware of everything. He doesn’t want to miss a thing. “Please…” Breathy and weak for him, but the same spark he loves ignites in your eyes.
“Hurry, please.” Another gasp, “I want you, Peter.”
That’s all he needs before he takes your hands in his, clasping tightly, bracing you when one deep thrust shatters any boundary between friends and soulmates that may have been between you.
You cry out, walls fluttering around his cock and he only allows himself to enjoy it for a second before he’s clumsily working a steady pace. So, dedicated to making you climax beneath him.
“This is perfect, Y/n. You’re perfect.” A thrust that makes your vision burn white. “Perfect for me.”
“Don’t we fit perfectly together?” He’s bucking erratically, driving into you so deep you think you might break. “I knew it was meant to be. I knew it would feel good, but this is…It feels like I’ve lived my entire life to share this with you.”
An expert roll of his hips has your toes curling, raising you higher and higher to the peak.
Chest to chest, as close as two people could be, but still not as close as he wanted yet this would have to do.
“How does it feel, Y/n? Me making love to you? I love you so much. I want you to know. Can you feel it? All of my love. It’s spilling over.”
He doesn’t take a moment to breathe, everything colliding in his mind and thoughts barely coherent, but he needs you to know. Even just a fraction.
Moans blend with hiccups as water droplets splash onto your cheeks. He’s crying. He doesn’t know when he started, but his love truly is spilling over. He’s had to contain it for so long and now he can finally show you.
“P-Peter?” A sharp gasp when he hits the perfect spot inside you that has you melting around him, and you reach up and pull him to your embrace. Hips still rocking into you with reverie.
Fingers comb his matted locks and your blown pupils meet his teary gaze.
“I love you, Peter.”
“Y-You r-really—” You feel his cock throb inside so clearly that you know you’re close.
“I love you. Only you.”
“I love y-you, Y/n. All of this—everything that I do is all for you…”
God, you’re clenching around him deliciously, but he can’t yet. You have to take the fall first and he’ll follow after.
“Then kiss me.”
Lips touch surprisingly gentle like the first time. One hand splays over your hip to pull you as close as close can be, he’s going to make you see stars. The other returns to stimulate your clit.
Every gasp and moan he swallows greedily as if this is truly what he lives for.
When you cum he follows soon after.
Peter’s eyes open to see his dark ceiling. Sweat and a sticky fluid coat his chest and his legs are tingled in the thin bed sheets. His body trembles from aftershocks of pleasure, phantom touches from you keeping him blissed, but he knows this pleasure is nothing compared to what it must be like with you.
What time was it now? Probably too late to call while he rubs another one out. What were you doing? Was it too much to hope you were dreaming of him?
He reached for the Kleenex to wipe off while the other hand still clutched your panties like a talisman.
They had been your favorite pair once but had disappeared. Peter personally considered them a lucky pair because you wore them the first time you had met.
“I’m sure nothing beats the real thing...Wait, for me, Y/n.”
HC; Nudes w/ Peter Parker
happy late thanksgiving..? anyway (also there was a picture here before but tumblr took it 😑)
Peter sending it to you on impulse
A power move
But nonetheless and bold and unexpected move not even he saw coming—the idea dawning on him as soon as he walks through the front door of his apartment
Desperate enough to try anything that will get you to look his way—even it means using the fact that you’re somewhat shallow to his advantage
Indulging the idea while he waits for the shower to warm, researching on a men’s forum
Trimming/shaving when someone suggests that women find it more preferable
Nerves buzzing, towel hung lazily around his hips while he sits on his bed awkward and confused what to do with his hands
Trying to psyche/work himself up
Pulling up PornHub to find a video, but no matter what video he clicks on, nothing arouses him
Stroking himself with a handful of lube with his eyes closed doesn’t work
His dick twitching the moment he his mind drifts to you
Promptly grabbing for the lube on his nightstand
Subconsciously pawing at his chest, rubbing his nipples before running his shaking fingers through his hair
Fantasizing about fingering you—the softness and heat of your folds blessing his hand along with your slick
What kind of moans would you make?
If you were next to him right now, he wouldn’t need anything else in the world
He’d absolutely worship you if you let him have you
His hips meeting each stroke
Softly groaning into his pillow
Fist reflexively getting tighter
Paying special attention to his head because that’s where he feels it the most
Deep inhales
Having to remind himself that the goal was to only have his dick stand up for you
Fumbling for his phone buried under the sheets
Opening the camera and taking in his blown pupils and flushed cheeks, the quick rise and fall of his chest
Continuously stroking himself, the wet sound of skin seeming to echo in the room, while he tries to find the right angle
If only you knew that he’d only let you see him like this—only do this for you
Sighing in relief when he snaps a decent pic and he’s able to finish touching himself
“Y/N…”
Sending the picture to you before he directs all of his attention to finishing
Breath stuttering and hips stilling when he’s close, hand working himself quickly
Muscles contracting when the first few drops leak onto his stomach
Groaning when he finally releases—hand stilling for a moment before rapidly speeding up
Spurting thick ropes, hips canting trying to ride out his orgasm
Hypersensitive—the mixture of his semen, body wash, and fabric softener from his pillow engraining themselves into his senses
Becoming steadily clear-headed by the minute
Anxious for a response
Anxiety nipping at his mind
Cleaning himself up, and getting dressed with a sigh
Deciding to knock out some Calculus work while he waits to hear from you
The idea dawning on him that maybe trying to seduce you with an unsolicited dick pic may have not been the best idea
If he asked Ned for help, would he have suggested a less risky method to help win you over? He doesn’t exactly approve of his love for you—deeming it unhealthy
Mentally tearing his hair out until he gets a response from you
Flinching when his phone buzzes with a text from you (poor baby)
Absolutely afraid of rejection, but mind already working out an excuse if you didn’t like what you saw
Feedback?
Would you mind doing a Peter Parker fic where Peter has a scent kink and the reader catches Peter doing some pretty nsfw things in her room? Sorry if it seems like an odd request since scent kink stuff usually leans towards yandere! characters. Love your work! Thanks and bye💞
[Warning: NSFW VERY NSFW]
At first it started off small, sometimes your underwear would go missing from your laundry.
Next time you sent your laundry down you found that they returned in your washed pile somehow.
That was until they stopped showing back up, and you begun losing more and more until you hardly had any left.
Going out to buy more you were perplexed unsure of what had been happening to them.
So you started doing your own laundry, it took more time out of your life but it was the only way that you could keep others out of it.
Or so you thought anyway.
Getting sent on a short mission that was supposed to take all day you left, only for it to last a couple of hours instead.
Returning to your room anxious for a shower you stopped dead when you heard a noise coming from the other side of your door.
Entering you couldn’t believe your eyes as you saw Peter standing there with a pair of your panties up against his nose.
Realizing very quickly that he had another one wrapped around his cock as he jacked off into them.
Eyes going wide you didn’t know what to say or do about the sight before you.
Peter then heard your breathing over his own heavy panting stopping him dead in his tracks.
His face turned bright red as he dropped the incriminating evidence immediately onto the floor.
“I-I can explain!”
Of course you confronted him on stealing your underwear before, and he nervously admitted to it.
While it should have grossed you out you were kind of intrigued by the lengths he went to, to accomplish his goals.
So you told him he should make it up to you, which confused him entirely not understanding what you meant.
Walking towards him you began undressing, letting your mission gear fall away from you as each piece was removed.
Peter’s eyes went wide as he watched you in fascination slowly getting the picture.
Getting on the bed, you shimmied your underwear off flinging them at him playfully.
“Well what are you waiting for eat me out Peter.”
Gawking at you only a moment before kneeling down before you, hands shaking.
Kissing your thighs as he moved up, able to already smell how turned on you were.
It was like all of his greatest dreams came true, or was he actually dreaming?
Either way he didn’t want to wake up.
Feeling his hot breath on your most sensitive area right before he swiped his tongue along your folds generously.
Arching your hips up at the contact he immediately used one of his arms to pin you down before using his other hand to reveal your clit.
Flicking the tip of his tongue expertly on it bringing loud moans from your throat spurring him on even more.
God the up close and personal view and scent of you was almost enough to make him cum without even being touched.
It was overwhelming his senses, but he was determined to make you see stars.
Plunging his thick pink muscle inside of you while using his free hand to circle your nub as fast as he could.
Going until he could feel you clench around him cumming harshly out of nowhere.
Slowing his actions down while still working you through your orgasm he felt his own climax hit him harder than it ever had before.
The very scent of what he did to you, what he brought out of you pushing him over the edge entirely.
As you both basked in the afterglow of what had just happened you agreed to let it happen again.
Only if he promised to stop stealing your underwear whenever he wanted.
Peter eagerly agreed, thinking it was more than a fair trade to have the real deal instead of just fantasies.
Now he had you where he always wanted you.
[Thank you for the request! I hope that you enjoy it and that it was what you were looking for!
✩Shutterbug✩ 『Yandere!Peter Parker x Reader』
[All characters in my fics are 18+.]
Peter tried to steady his pounding heart as you snuggled up closer to him. Your arms wrapped around his waist lazily as you were beginning to drift in and out of sleep. The blanket draped across your shoulders was dropping, allowing his fingers to graze your skin almost innocently.
You were having a Tolkien marathon at his condo and strewn across his couch—and nearly in his lap—you were totally at peace. You spent nearly every other day at Peter’s place, sleepovers were something you never batted an eyelash at because it was Peter and you were starting to realize that being near him was the happiest place you could be. Your best friend.
If only you knew what you did to him.
The sun had set hours earlier and you were nearing the middle of The Twin Towers when it dawned on you, “Damn, these movies are long.” You murmured.
Peter chuckled, “Getting sleepy?”
“No. Absolutely not.” You drawled as you fought sleep. You tried to sit up straight but now Peter’s hand was rubbing up and down your arm and you were finding little reason to get up at all. You were so sleepy you didn’t consider how out of character this was.
Peter’s breath hitched as he felt you relax against him. ‘She trusts me. Don’t be nervous, dude, there’s nothing to worry about. Ask her.’ The pounding in his heart was anticipation as he cleared his throat.
“Y/n.”
“Yes, darling?” You hummed and his resolve almost broke, the things you did to him.
“There’s something I want to a-ask y-you…” the stutter caught your attention and now you were sitting up and pulling away to better see him. ‘Pl-please, don’t do that cause if you do, I can’t think.’
“What’s the matter, Peter?” The concern was clear across your face.
“W-well, I’ve been meaning t-to for some time, but didn’t kn-know how to ask. I mean! Ned says he can’t channel his inner Naomi anymore and MJ says if I ask her again, she’ll shove my camera up my—”
“Peter. Breathe.”
Your hands were on his shoulders and like that, your mysterious power you were completely naïve to was working on him and easing his anxieties.
“Y/n, would you model for me?”
This time you froze.
Did you really have to think about it? You were nervous even though you felt you shouldn’t be. Peter was your closest friend and after all he did for you this was your chance to do something for him. You didn’t think as you said, “Of course.”
“Really? Do you mean it, Y/n? This is awesome!” He’s off the couch and on his feet. “Am I dreaming right now? Oh no, I could totally be dreaming, it’s happened before ohmygod.” This boy actually pinches himself and the way his face lights up when it actually hurts makes you snort. ‘I can’t believe this dork is my best friend I gotta protect him.’
When realization sets in, he’s pulling you off the couch and into his arms to twirl you around. “You won’t regret this, Y/n. I promise. I know what I’m doing so just trust me, okay?” Your head is spinning and tossed back as you giggle. He was always so childish but he never failed to surprise you. You didn’t think to consider what he could possibly be reassuring you for.
You both flop onto the couch breathless, you throwing your legs over his without thinking and his heart thumps from the contact. Biting his lower lip, he takes your hand and lightly brushes a thumb over it. Every instinct he has, human and otherwise, is telling him to kiss you but he knows he can’t push you.
From the moment you let him into your heart, he knew this wasn’t something to take lightly. Every action, every meaningful moment you shared with him was carefully planned in his own way. ‘There’s only one Y/n in this world. I’d never ruin it with her. Slow and steady wins the race, right?’
So many pictures of you decorate the walls of his personal office–the one in this very condo that you have no idea even exists. He has albums specifically for photos taken while you’re lounging at home, out during the day or sleeping at night. They’re damn near scrapbooks carefully labeled and lovingly arranged and annotated with his thoughts on each picture. He knows when your taste in fashion changes and can read your body language better than any seasoned profiler. He knows nearly all of your facial expressions except for a choice few that he hopes to be the only one who will ever see them.
Of course, you’ll never know his little collection ever exists.
“So…” he starts as he focuses on your hand shyly, “Wanna start tomorrow? Say…at Queen’s Coffee? You bring yourself and I’ll bring my camera?”
You smile and rest your head on his shoulder. “I suppose I could.”
“And Y/n…”
“Hmm?”
“Is it okay if I considered tomorrow a date?”
You didn’t even think about it. Had you always wanted something like this with him? Was it always building up to this? There were pleasant butterflies in your stomach that told you so.
Now, it was your turn to be shy as you buried your face in his sleeve.
“I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”
The next day you’re dressed cute & cozy and sitting across from Peter, your drinks already served. He’s been fiddling with his camera nervously for several minutes which is bs cause you know he knows how to use the thing.
“Pe~ter~” You call and the camera almost slips from his fingers. “Careful!” You call. He sits the camera on the table and sighs with his hands fisted on his jeans. You reach forward across the table, “Look, I’m a little nervous too, but I trust you.” He looks into your eyes for the first time since you both arrived. “You do?” “There’s no reason why I shouldn’t.” Oh, honey. If only you knew.
His hand finds its way over yours as you enjoy the moment. It fits perfectly, but then, he has an epiphany. Hoisting his camera up in the other hand, he takes the shot of you and your hands joined on the table. “I’ve always wanted a shot like this!”
That kicks off the first of many dates. The next one is at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. He’s as geeky as ever as he instructs you to just act natural and admire the art. You’re looking up into the eyes of a mural when you hear his voice, “The art admiring the art.” before a click.
The dates continue but with gifts. “I know this color would look amazing on you.” “I saw these jeans and then I really wanted to see you wearing them–not in a perverted way, though!” “I saw this necklace and thought of you.”
He’s always bringing something new to “accentuate your natural beauty” and they coordinate well with your outfits.
Soon, your photoshoots are taking place in more private settings. Late nights strolls where only the stars can guide you, high vantage points you have no idea how he found and he wants you to see the view. In the dark you feel anything can happen and you don’t know if that feeling in your chest is hesitation or anticipation.
The shoots start drawing closer to home–Peter’s. “I just love seeing you comfortable.” “We always have the most fun alone like this.”
Comfy clothes you like soon include Peter’s own in your outfits. Basketball shorts, tees, hoodies and sweatpants. You start wearing more of his than your own and the sneaky thought that maybe he liked seeing you in his clothes doesn’t persist or set off any alarm bells.
Soon, he starts making requests. “I g-got you these yoga pants. Th-they’re your favorite color and were on sale!” He says with his eyes averted and a bright blush.
And then things take a turn.
You hold the peach colored nightie between trembling hands. The department store bag lays in the bathroom sink forgotten as you finger the delicate lace chest. This is a gift unlike the others, more intimate than anything you’ve ever received and for some reason this feels like it changes everything.
Your face is on fire, and you’re momentarily struck dumb. What does this mean and what happens depending on what you choose? You lean against the closed bathroom door and exhale. You can feel a presence from the other side and Peter’s voice clear with worry calls from the other side to you. “Are y-you okay, Y/n?” His voice cracks at your name.
On the other side, it feels like everything he’s built up is crashing down all around him. You got so comfortable and he got so arrogant, he let himself believe he had a chance and now everything was positively shattered. “I-I’m sorry! I know it’s too much, I wasn’t thinking–I’m so sorry. Please, you don’t have to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.”
You swallow dryly as you clear your thoughts. This was only as dirty as you thought it was. Photography was Peter’s passion and you were modeling. No one else was around. It was just you and him. The safest place in the world.
When you don’t answer, Peter panics. The knob starts jiggling erratically and the door shudders under his strength. “Please, Y/n. Answer me.” So many thoughts of how he’s fucked up is racing through his mind at a speed he just can’t handle. ‘It’s all over. I ruined it. Everything’s over. She’ll hate me forever and I’ll die.’ Ice chills his veins at the next thought, ‘How do I fix this? How do I take it all back?’
He nearly falls through the door, but pulls back when the door opens just a crack. His breath hitches. You peek through shyly, and Peter’s jaw drops. “Just don’t laugh, okay?” How could he be so lucky?
“I would never laugh at you!” He never had and never would for as long as he lived.
The door slowly opened to reveal you in the nightie and nothing else. The soft material clung to your waist and the hips he loved so much. Thighs bare and basically begging for him to part them and do what he’s imagined nearly every night before falling asleep. It took every bit of strength he had to brace himself at the door and not throw himself at you. God, he hoped you didn’t notice what was going on in his jeans. ‘Just keep your eyes up here, okay Y/n?’
You stepped through and asked him where he wanted you and when he answered, “Anywhere’s fine.” he meant that in every possible way.
You accepting that gift kick started an avalanche. Peter loved photos of you lounging around his condo doing the most monotonous things. Just capturing you in your natural essence unhindered and not hanging upside down from your balcony had him over the moon.
So, it was only natural that he began to grow more comfortable with his requests.
You were wearing a pair of cute, powder pink panties and his white t-shirt. Sitting on his couch, you had your legs pulled up and together and knees beneath your chin, angled away so the camera couldn’t see what you had been doing well at hiding since the shoots had gotten more risque.
He noticed how you carefully angled your lower half, never truly giving him his prize. Always such a tease, making him want it so much more than he though he could.
“Why don’t you turn and face me more, Y/n? I feel like you’re trying to hide from me or something.” His smile was good-natured and sweet enough to plague you with a strange sense of guilt. Unknowingly, he was making you feel guilty for growing a little suspicious of your friend and his intentions.
“See, isn’t that better?” He cooed as you dropped your legs over the edge of the couch and faced him entirely.
“Could you look at me?” you did.
“Could you lift up your shirt a little? Perfect!”
“And could you spread your legs just a tiny bit.”
Before you followed his instructions, instinct kicked in and your eyes dropped down to his crotch and the tent in his dark jeans. Even you could tell his length was straining from within and a shocked glance up into his eyes rattled you to the core.
“P-Peter.” What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. Had is eyes always been so desperate? Had he always looked to you with such longing? You wracked your mind to remember, to recall little moments that felt off, but you had brushed away.
The way he spoke sent chills down your spine, his voice heady with lust for you. “Y-Y/n, just a little more, please.” He rocked his hips gently, slowly edging for friction. A pink tongue darted out to trace parched lips.
“I-I just need a little more of you.”
What does this mean? What’s happening to your friend?
You pulled the shirt down to cover the panties and wrapped your arms around your legs that now felt so cold from the exposure.
“Why do you need pictures like this, Peter? What’s going on? Talk to me.”
A sad grin graced his lips as he lowered the camera to meet your eyes. Devastating brown irises framed with thick lashes gave you unyielding attention that you had tried to ignore for so long. How long had you been fooling yourself for? You had known all along how much he had been hurting for you.
“Because these pictures can keep me sated for now.”
“’For now’? Keep you sated why? What’s going to happen?” So, much had been building up for so long and unfortunately this wasn’t event the tip of the iceberg.
God, were your teeth chattering? Fight or flight had left the fucking building and left you stranded where you sat feeling smaller than your friend and so vulnerable as he stood over you.
Carefully, he kneeled before you and slowly, very slowly, reached out to caress your knee.
“These pictures will have to be enough, Y/n. Until you’re ready. Until I can have the real thing, this is my way of keeping you with me forever.”
✩Shutterbug✩ 『Yandere!Peter Parker x Reader』
[All characters in my fics are 18+.]
Peter tried to steady his pounding heart as you snuggled up closer to him. Your arms wrapped around his waist lazily as you were beginning to drift in and out of sleep. The blanket draped across your shoulders was dropping, allowing his fingers to graze your skin almost innocently.
You were having a Tolkien marathon at his condo and strewn across his couch—and nearly in his lap—you were totally at peace. You spent nearly every other day at Peter’s place, sleepovers were something you never batted an eyelash at because it was Peter and you were starting to realize that being near him was the happiest place you could be. Your best friend.
If only you knew what you did to him.
The sun had set hours earlier and you were nearing the middle of The Twin Towers when it dawned on you, “Damn, these movies are long.” You murmured.
Peter chuckled, “Getting sleepy?”
“No. Absolutely not.” You drawled as you fought sleep. You tried to sit up straight but now Peter’s hand was rubbing up and down your arm and you were finding little reason to get up at all. You were so sleepy you didn’t consider how out of character this was.
Peter’s breath hitched as he felt you relax against him. ‘She trusts me. Don’t be nervous, dude, there’s nothing to worry about. Ask her.’ The pounding in his heart was anticipation as he cleared his throat.
“Y/n.”
“Yes, darling?” You hummed and his resolve almost broke, the things you did to him.
“There’s something I want to a-ask y-you…” the stutter caught your attention and now you were sitting up and pulling away to better see him. ‘Pl-please, don’t do that cause if you do, I can’t think.’
“What’s the matter, Peter?” The concern was clear across your face.
“W-well, I’ve been meaning t-to for some time, but didn’t kn-know how to ask. I mean! Ned says he can’t channel his inner Naomi anymore and MJ says if I ask her again, she’ll shove my camera up my—”
“Peter. Breathe.”
Your hands were on his shoulders and like that, your mysterious power you were completely naïve to was working on him and easing his anxieties.
“Y/n, would you model for me?”
This time you froze.
Did you really have to think about it? You were nervous even though you felt you shouldn’t be. Peter was your closest friend and after all he did for you this was your chance to do something for him. You didn’t think as you said, “Of course.”
Keep reading
Yandere spiderman x reader
Summary: Peter develops a 'crush' for you at school , so what's the best thing he can do , if not stalking you as spiderman
Warnings: yandere themes , obsession, stalking, double personality (?), some violence
Your first interaction with him was with Peter
You both went to the same school and had just started to become friends
Peter soon started feeling things towards you that he realized were a little crush
It didn't take him long to realize this was something else
He grew obsessed with you
He caught himself staring at you , waiting outside your class , always keeping the seat besides him in lunch for you to sit on
But , he had ordered himself to never get carried away while on the suit
He disciplined himself into not approaching you
For around two days
That's how he spent the hours of the nights that you were out with you
( well not really with you since he was watching from the shadows )
He tried reasoning with himself that this is not too wrong , since you were a citizen and a pretty one on the least so you were more likely to get in some sorts of trouble
It is hard for him to not mention the things he learns about you by stalking while talking with you
I mean he so wants to ask about why you were with that boy yesterday, but how can he justify knowing that?
Th n , one night what he had been expecting happend
You were walking down the street wearing your earphones when some guy jumped on you, making you fall to the ground
Before he could even speak to you , spider man, appeared on the incident , knocking the 'villain' out and contacting the authorities
He helped you of the ground , pushing some hair out of your face and giving you the softest look he could through the mask
Even now you were beautiful
He accompanied you home and the two of you chatted the whole way
When you reached outside of your apartments great entrance , you pecked his check and hurried of
It's safe to say that you had developed a little crush on spiderman
So the next day you informed an amazed looking Peter about all the things that happened the day before and you just couldn't stop talking about spiderman
Peter wore the most satisfied smile you have ever seen in your lifetime
After that spiderman and you would hang out often , him walking besides you 'to protect you from any harm that could come your way'
And Spiderman appears very eager to learn more about one of your friends , every time you mention the name Peter
i have an ideaaa
so like,,,what if yandere!mcu peter parker has been stalking his s/o for a few weeks or so, but has never talked to them. then one day he sees them at the avengers tower and he's like 'omg they're here! why are they here tho-' and it turns out that they're gonna be an avenger.
and peter is flabberghasted because he had no idea they had any sort of powers or anything of the sort and maybe it's because when he's being spiderman and saving people, his s/o is also saving people (without showing their face or causing too much of a scene)
sry for the long ask!
Omg , I love this idea SO much:)( feel free to request a part two or for me to add an ending or him kidnapping you or smthing
Peter has been stalking you for some time now and he was quite certain he know most of the matters concerning you
He was a grade A stalker and it shocked him how sometimes he just couldn't find you anywhere. Like where are you ????
There is also a new vigilanete around and so he is even more concerned about you , because what if they want you too huh?
Peter was in the Stark tower at least one a day and he had never seen you there until now
But there you were , your pretty hair a little ruffled , siting at the avengers couch like it was nothing
He is startled to say at least
At first he is completely and utterly concerned because , what if you are in some kind of trouble??
He orders Jarvis to tell him if you go to leave the building , and bolts towards Tony's office , looking for some answers
Imagine his shock when his mentor told him you might be joining tha avengers soon!
At first he was extremely happy thinking that this is a sign and you are meant to be
But then the information settled down on his brain. You will be joining the avengers?? Do you even have powers. No you can't do that it is too dangerous
He informs tony about how it is to dangerous for a kid your age and all that stuff , but Tony insists that you are perfect and actually really powerful
He gets in the lobby and sees you still sitting there , with your phone on hand , writing something
He was worried about you , but this was his perfect chance
Popping right down besides you he smiles and askes you what you are doing there
You of course say some excuse you know is a lie and that angers him a little
WHY would you like to him???
Anyway he tells you that he knows about your powers and that he is spiderman
The way your eyes shine, oh he didn't even think he could fall for you any more , but here he is
You both sat there excited talking about costumes and power functions
He is a pretty tame yandere (for the most part) but after that some cameras are installed to your room and he knows just about every move you do
You are both meant to be after all , right
Platonic yandere avengers x reader x romantic yandere peter parker
Idek how to begin this so beware unlucky readers
Summary: you are an idol ,you are an avenger. How can they not be slightly a little bit protective of you
Warnings: yandere themes , stalking, obsession, fighting, blood , I think this is it
Also this will include(I'm sorry I didn't exactly do the like main six or whatever) Tony , Steve , Bucky , Clint , Natasha , Wanda , Peter
This is longer than I expected and I kinda don't like it but here it is in its full glory<3
When you joined the team , they blamed their protectiveness over you to your personality
I mean you are so cute and look so innocent , how can they not want to protect you ?
Tony had totally not hacked into every single account that you own / have owned in your life and he absolutely hasn't researcher your dad's Facebook to find childhood pictures of you. And he surely didn't print those out and handed then around in the team. Also expect to be spoilt rotten. Complained once about a stain on your favorite jacket? Have three more of the exact same just in case
Steve claimed to need specifically your help to understand how to operate anything mechanical ad expect to have a lot of movie marathons. He will read you before you sleep even though you are not a child anymore because ' he just liked when he is reading out loud'
Bucky would be the type of person to dig in deep in your life. He wouldn't stalk you specifically. That is tasked to someone else. No . He would stalk Al your friends and all your exes and highschool teachers.ad if he had to he would accidentally make some of them he consider bad influences disappear
Clint along with Natasha are your stalkers
Clint will always be hidden close by in case you need help with something (like , idk someone dead?) and my man could literally enter your home , casually look around a bit , stare at your decorations , and be out without you even realizing he was never there
Natasha on the other hand isn't so subtle. You could easily spot her on the other end of the street wearing sunglasses and staring at you intensely. Once you were in a bookstore admiring some books and stationary that you did not buy and the next day they were at your door with a little note that said ' saw them and they reminded me of you - Natasha ' as if you hadn't seen her looking at you. It isn't even that she is stupid . She just doesn't care
Wanda practically lived at your head at this point knowing things about you , you were barely aware of. Like , what do you mean you can't remember that one time you went snowboarding and fell? What do you mean how she knows that story and that you never told her? Of course you did silly!
Peter now was clearly in live with you and the first to meet you and get obsessed over you. When after some time he went to Tony and told him about his feelings , Tony supported his feelings to the max since this could be beneficial for all of them. Peter would never leave , they trusted him and he could keep you close.
Now you seem like a soft baby that needs protection from everyone ands that's mainly due to the way you present yourself and act. You have the most bubbly soft personality and everyone loves that
Being an idol , and an avenger was a dream come true for you , so when you had a big show and gave to them tickets to come see you they of course came( Tony almost bought all tha tickets so it could be only you but Steve stopped him)
Heating a music so fitting to your aesthetic it was like they fell in love (platonically and romantically for Peter) all over again. You are just so sweet and cute
Then a day came where an attack happened in new York and all of you jumped to action. They had no time to stop you from going to battle or even think about doing it really. The only think they could do was act.
Now , your powers were so incredibly powerful that they never thought you would have to fight face to face with someone. But they were terrible wrong
Once the fight was over they all spotted you on the corner of a building with bloody fists and a small trail of blood staining your pretty pink costume. A fan of yours was there asking you to take a picture . You kindly smiled at the camera revealing a set of bloody teeth.
Your fan seemed super excited at that and almost yelled out in joy. You bid her goodbye and went towards the group of your shocked friends
They all just stared at you in an unusually bloody shape , that somehow seemed fitting (?)
Later on they were shown a video of you with a bunch of people , that you were brutally fighting with . They were all left to shreds when you left your head held high.( Peter was even more into you after that)
Asks are always open<3
Fragile Apologies (Yandere! Miguel O’Hara x Gn! Reader)
Content notes: minor spoilers for Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, unhealthy/abusive relationships, verbal & emotional abuse, physical intimidation & violence, minor injuries, implied future imprisonment
Word count: around 4k
Short summary: You thought it would be easy to leave your dying relationship with Miguel. This turned out to be not true.
The sun was setting. It cast a long, orange beam on the wall, and you slowly followed it with your eyes as it advanced, gradually fading.
You purposely didn't look at the clock on the wall, you didn't want to know how much time had passed since Miguel decided to pull you onto his lap, not caring that you were right in the middle of preparing dinner. You were relieved you had not boiled the water in advance. You were not sure if the kitchen would burst into flames by the time your boyfriend lets you go.
Miguel's arms wrapped around you like iron bands. He didn't squeeze tightly enough to cause pain, but even so, you wouldn't have been able to move an inch, no matter how much you wanted to. All you could do for your own comfort was to wrap your legs around his hips and let your hands hang by your sides.
From experience, you knew it wasn't worth begging to be let go, no matter how stiff you were or how important a task you had somewhere else. The easiest way was always to simply wait for him to finish.
Your stomach growled loudly. Maybe… Just this once, he might let you go.
Miguel buried his face in your neck, you felt his hot lips and closed eyes on your skin. Softly, you patted his back with one hand, while attempting to slide the other in the gap between your bodies, hoping he would let you push him away.
He didn't move at all, so you let out a frustrated sigh.
“Miguel” you whispered “Miguel, please, let me go. I'm very hungry.”
Despite trying to move and signal that you wanted to break free, you were ignored. Panic started to set in, but you were trying to overcome it. You grabbed his shoulder to try to push yourself away with full force.
It felt like you were trying to move a concrete wall. He showed no reaction, not even his face moved on the skin of your neck.
"Miguel," you hated how whiny, how sharp your voice was. It sounded annoying even to your own ears. "Please, please, let me go!"
“Enough.”
You immediately stiffened. There was something in his voice that made your throat tighten. You waited for him to say something else, anything, as you lowered your hand to its previous place, but in vain. It seemed like it was enough for him that you didn't protest anymore.
The sun set behind the skyscrapers of Nueva York, and the room plunged into darkness. With a defeated sigh, you rested your chin on his shoulder.
Miguel began tracing playful circles on your back with his thumb, pressing slow, deliberate kisses onto your neck. As if your protest woke him up to the fact that he was holding a living being in his arms. The touch of his skin ignited a flare across yours, and your chest tightened with pain.
If only it had always been like this with him. Or at least sometimes, when you would have been open to him too. He was completely unpredictable, never knowing when he'd acknowledge your existence. From the very start, you knew he wasn't an easy personality, but this was something different. You felt both completely abandoned and overwhelmed at the same time.
You raised a hand to ran your fingers through his hair and felt his hands relax around you. You gently kissed his temple.
Suddenly he tensed, and you stifled a quiet scream. You know he would never hurt you, you told yourself, but you weren't convincing enough. You saw with your own eyes how the iron rods bend under his fingers as if they were made of clay.
You watched every news report on TV and every video that Lyla showed about him. You were well aware of what he was capable of. Even in this moment, he could have snapped your spine at any time, a slightly stronger squeeze would have been enough.
“Okay, that's enough," said Miguel, as if you were the one who didn't want to let him go, not the other way around.
"Hey!"
He pushed you off his lap. You would have fallen if he hadn't caught your arm to hold you. You grabbed onto him to regain your balance while he turned his attention towards his watch.
“Lyla, is there anything new?”
“Yes there is, but I didnt want to disturb you lovebirds. It seems like there’s some new info about Vulture, but nothing imminent. Still no info about his whereabouts.”
Miguel hissed in frustration and then turned his back to you. He started heading towards his own room.
"Didn't you want to make dinner?" he threw back before the door closed behind him.
You just stared after him for a few moments, standing alone in the dark room.
"Asshole," you said to the door. You sounded more tired than angry.
You went back to the kitchen and continued preparing dinner. Your home appliances could have made anything you wanted, probably cheaper (and tastier) than you, but there was a certain comfort in this simple routine that you couldn't let go of. Right now, you needed your hands to be busy as you thought through your situation, likely for the hundredth time in the past few weeks.
You didn't want to live like this. That was the simple truth.
When you first got together, Miguel was different. Not by much, but different. He was still willing to put energy into your relationship. However, since then, there have been more and more threats, work and problems, not to mention the number of Spider-Men he kept track of.
He doesn't have the time or energy for those little things that made you fall in love in the first place. You knew what had happened to him before you met, what happened to his daughter and that other universe. You tried to be understanding, genuinely.
Honestly, if it were only you suffering, maybe you could let go of all this, but it seemed like that Miguel also didn't want this relationship that much. Those tender moments that used to be so common between you, the hugs, the kisses, the intimate touches were increasingly scarce.
No, scarcity is not the right word for it. These moments between you slowly condensed into a single point, first daily, then weekly, lately almost monthly, when you often could do nothing but endure whatever he put you through.
You didn't want to think this way about the person you loved more than anything, but when you looked deep inside yourself, you knew you were starting to fear him. It didn't help much that when he wasn't being controlling, he often just plain ignored you, like he was doing right now.
When it first occurred to you that you should move out, you dismissed the thought. Then again. And again.
And then you didn’t.
It was much easier to find a rental apartment than you thought. Even Lyla helped when you asked her to. She hesitated, but not much, she just said you definitely have to talk to Miguel about it, and you agreed with her. You didn't understand why you haven't brought up the matter to him since then.
Maybe because you knew trying to reason with him wouldn't accomplish anything, as you had asked him many times before to consider your feelings. Maybe because you felt this was a much bigger step than anything you've brought up before. Or maybe it was the guilt you felt over the fact that you were increasingly looking forward to the date when you could finally move out.
This date was tomorrow.
You finished dinner. Two plates of boiled egg sandwiches with salad and a soft drink. Nothing special, you just tried to drag out the preparation as long as possible. You laid everything out on the table and then leaned against the counter. It's been so long since you've eaten together like this. Lately, Miguel ate everything in his own room or wherever he happened to be on a mission.
You took a deep breath, then pushed yourself off the counter. You started walking towards Miguel's room to knock. You thought you'd have to beg again, so you were surprised when the door slid open in front of you.
You entered the dimly lit, cold room filled with humming and blinking computers. You didn't like being here. You never knew when you'd see something on one of the screens that you couldn't get out of your head for weeks.
"What is it?" Miguel sounded annoyed, but at least he turned in his chair to look at you. You saw his eyes searching your hand for the plate of dinner you usually set outside his door, as if he were a teenage kid and you a resigned parent. When he realized you were empty-handed, he furrowed his eyebrows. "Is something wrong?"
You cleared your throat. You felt your heart racing, making you feel like an idiot. You had prepared for this moment for so long, yet now you wanted to turn around and flee. But why am I still so scared?
“No, I just want to talk to you. Can you come out a bit? I've set the table outside.”
Miguel looked like he would rather say he was too busy, but when he looked at your face, it was clear that he knew something was wrong. After a brief silence, he spoke up in a surprisingly gentle tone.
"Just give me a minute to finish this. Lyla!"
You didn't wait to hear all his instructions. You went back to the kitchen and waited for him there.
"If this matter is so important, you can tell me now," Miguel said.
"Let's eat first, please. We can talk after. I promise, this will be the only time.”
It was clear that this did not decrease his suspicion, but rather fuelled it. Nevertheless, he sat down and without any further talk picked up his sandwich. This compelled you to do the same.
As you ate, you tried to formulate in your mind what you would eventually say to him from the myriad of possibilities you had gathered. It proved to be surprisingly difficult, and you didn't feel ready to speak when you finally finished eating.
Miguel leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Well? I'm all ears.”
There was something so condescending in his voice that your jaw tightened. You closed your eyes for a moment before you spoke. You tried to keep your voice calm.
“I've been thinking a lot lately. About you, about us… You know this isn't working. I don't know if Lyla told you, but…"
Miguel slammed the table so hard that the cutlery clinked. Your breath hitched. You didn't even see him move.
“Again, seriously? Look, I don't have time for this. I understand that you're not happy with the current situation, and believe me, neither am I. But still…”
“I want to leave you, Miguel.”
He immediately stopped talking. You just stared at each other. The sound of the impact was still ringing in your ears.
Eventually, you broke the silence again.
"I'm sorry. Believe me, I really am sorry. I know we've tried a lot…" I tried, you told yourself, “but I don't want to continue this. It will be better for both of us if we can move on."
“Vale” he said dryly.”And what are you going to do after this? Do you have any idea what's out there in the city?”
"Yes. I've already found an apartment, well, we've found one with Lyla."
Another silence followed. You stood up from the table.
“I'm sorry” you said again. You didn't even know what got into you when you reached out to stroke his hair.
"Don't," he hissed, causing your hand to stop in the air. He turned away from you.
“What are you waiting for? Pack your stuff and get out of here.”
This time you didn't hesitate. You turned around and left to gather your things.
***
Unbelievable. Just fucking unbelievable, really.
A week had passed since you moved out. Miguel refused to use the word ‘permanently’. At first, he didn't even want to believe that you were really capable of going so far as to bring up the breakup, and he never dreamed that you would actually go through with it.
As you packed, he waited for the moment when you'd break down and apologize, when you'd take everything back to let things return to how they used to be.
As it turned out, he waited in vain. Somehow, you had enough backbone not to waver as you always did before. This was his mistake, he should have noticed the signs that this time you are not just planning, but also acting.
His fist clenched at the thought that Lyla helped you without telling him. This could never happen again. When you told him this, he was so furious that he was on the verge of smashing the table between you. He was so angry that he feared he might actually harm you. This is partly why he didn't stand in your way when you started pulling your suitcase out.
But now? Now he was left alone, and he knew he would never be able to truly let you go.
He lay alone in his bed. He managed to fall asleep on the first night, perhaps he didn't even dream, but then he woke up in the middle of the night. He was so used to you being next to him when he slept, regardless of the time of day, that when he didn't hear your breathing in his sleep, panic immediately set in.
He woke up to his heart almost bursting out of his chest, while clutching the spot on the sheet where you usually lay. He hated himself for being so predictable, and he hated you for eliciting this from him even when you weren't near.
Since then, he hardly slept at all. He was so tense that even the slightest slight could push him to the brink of a rage fit. For a while, Lyla didn't even try to reason with him.
He immediately got your address from her, of course, then checked it out for himself. He deliberately didn't go when he knew you would be home, but he couldn't help it, he had to cling to the walls of the surrounding buildings to watch when your figure, shrouded in shadows, got home.
Villains came to his mind. They were the ones who thought like him in this moment. Obsessively focusing on a single target as if his life depended on it… In a way, it was a very petty mindset. Not suited for someone responsible for the safety of others. But that's exactly what he was doing – watching over you and ensuring no threat reached you. Of course, he continued to track Vulture and the others as well, not to mention the other Spider-People, but it was true that they all took a backseat when it came to you.
No, he wasn’t like the villains. He did this because you were important to him. If you had a little sense, you could have seen this too. That's why he waited through this week to calm down enough to speak to you in a normal tone. If possible, it would have been best if you came back to him of your own free will, but if he scares you, he might achieve the opposite.
Actually, what he wanted most was for you to come back on your own with your stupid suitcase, but so far you've held firm. It seemed you were doing just fine without him. Sometimes he even caught you humming to yourself on the way home. You haven't done that in months at his place. Miguel didn't even want to admit to himself that this made a small part of his heart ache.
The problem was that as time went on, he didn't become calmer, quite the opposite. If he wasn't thinking about you, then he was thinking about the things that could harm you while you weren't with him. If something were to happen to you when he wasn't there…
He didn't finish the thought. He couldn't.
A soft beep came from his watch. A reported robbery. Since it seemed the local patrol had already dealt with the matter, he almost settled back down, but then he glanced at the holographic map.
He immediately jumped to his feet. His blood thudded in his ears so loudly that he could barely hear Lyla's responses to the instructions he barked at her as he headed out.
The robbery had occurred near your block. Right next to you.
***
You stood with your arms crossed in front your chest in the window of your third-floor living room. The sirens had long since gone silent and the police had left. The case did not seem serious, and you were not overly worried. These things were not unusual in this city. Before you got together with Miguel, you often saw similar crimes.
Miguel. You thought you would miss him more, but from the very first days you felt the invisible weight lifting off your shoulders. You unpacked the few belongings you brought with you and started creating a new life for yourself.
It was good to occupy yourself with something other than ruminating about your ex. It was strange that you no longer had to think about when you would push him away or make him angry with some insignificant detail.
At first, you didn't even notice the dull thud that sounded like a heavy object had hit the wall of your panel apartment.
Then your bedroom window burst.
You slapped your hand over your mouth before you could scream. You looked around the room, then crouched behind the couch in the corner, using the clatter of the glass shards to cover the sound of your movement. You didn't turn on the light in the living room because you didn't want anyone to notice you watching the police cars, but the light was on in your bedroom. The intruder must have seen this.
Who was currently out in the city? Vulture? Venture? And who else? They shouldn't have known who you are. While you were with Miguel, you barely left the apartment. No one has seen you two in the same place for months.
You covered your face with your palm as a massive thud shook the wall behind you. That might have been the door that led to the hallway.
“Where are you?”
Your breath hitched. This can't be happening.
You almost answered him, but changed your mind at the last minute. You flinched when another blow shook the house. It was the wall mirror.
You pulled your knees to your chest, using one hand to stifle the sob rising in your throat, and the other to pull your phone out of your pocket. Who should you call? You can't send normal cops after Miguel. Plus, you've never heard him like this.
A superhero wouldn't harm innocents… But a superhero wouldn't break into his ex's home like this either. If he just wants to save you from something, then why did he smash everything in his path? No, you felt that you shouldn't come out, but with his senses, it shouldn't have taken much time for him to find you.
As if he heard your thoughts.
“I know you're here. I can smell you.”
His voice was slightly calmer than it was a few moments ago. You heard him take a deep breath. This meant that it was quiet enough that if you started crying now, he would find you instantly.
You didn't dare to move. Tears freely flowed down your face, but you didn't feel it. Suddenly, you became very aware that you really had no idea how good his hearing was.
He stopped in the hallway. What was he doing? Fiddling with something, but what…
Your phone rang in your hand.
The next moment, the couch disappeared in front of you. You didn't have time to end the call before Miguel grabbed your shirt to pull you up. Your back hit the wall, knocking all the air out of your lungs. Your phone fell to the ground, but you didn't even try to catch it. Sharp claws tore up the fabric of your clothes where he held you.
You cried out in pain and terror.
For a moment, you locked eyes with each other before Miguel's red gaze slid down to scan your body. It took a little time for you to realize he was looking for injuries.
When he was convinced that you were unharmed, he slightly loosened his grip, but not enough for you to break free. You desperately clung to his wrist, despite knowing that if he wanted to kill you, nothing would stop him, especially not your weak human hands.
"Please, don't hurt me," you whimpered from the depths of your throat.
He growled. You had never heard this sound from him before.
“Hurt you? Are you out of your mind? I'm here to take you home.”
You didn't dare shake your head, but he must have seen something in your eyes. Suddenly, you felt your feet on the floor again.
Miguel dragged you by the remnants of your shirt like a ragdoll. Your mind was foggy with panic, yet you instinctively tried to dig your heel into the carpet. As you passed by the doorway, you reached out to grasp it, but it didn't slow him down. You felt something crack in your shoulder, then the burning pain flooded you. You had to let go.
You needed all your willpower not to scream when you saw what he had done to your apartment. It was as if someone had let loose a small hurricane. Your knee was scraped raw on the few feets leading to your front door, not to mention the shards of glass Miguel dragged you over. You were so terrified that you barely felt the pain.
You thought he would drag you straight out of the apartment, so you squeaked in surprise when he stopped in front of the door and let go of your shirt. As you collapsed unceremoniously onto the floor, he stood in front of you.
"I want you to pay very close attention to me, because I won't say this again. What do you see?"
You looked at him in shock. You followed his gaze with your eyes as he pointed to the lock.
"The door handle?”
He growled so loudly that your chest trembled. He reached down to roughly grab the back of your neck. His claws left shallow scratches on your skin as he forced you to stare at the lock above the door handle.
"This is a damn biometric identifier. Do you know how long it takes for someone to get a few samples from you? For God's sake, do you know how hard it would be to break in here?”
You were afraid that a stronger jerk and he might just tear your head off. You whimpered like a cornered animal.
"Answer me!"
"Very easy?" you muttered.
“Exactly! And do you know what's the deal with your windows? Anyone can see in, from anywhere, not to mention breaking in.”
Yes, you demonstrated that very well, you thought numbly, but you had the sense not to say it out loud. He let go again, and you took the opportunity to slide against the wall. You huddled up just like you did in the living room only a few minutes ago.
Miguel said something in Spanish, but he spoke too quickly for you to understand. He paced back and forth in front of you.
"I simply don't understand what was going through your head. It's a miracle you're still alive. What if those on the streets decide to break in? What if they follow you to your apartment?"
He roughly ran his hand through his hair.
"I know foresight isn't your strong suit, that's for sure, but even you have to see this. You need to come back with me. It's obvious you can't keep yourself safe."
You were about to shake your head, but you stopped yourself. Instead, you covered your face, and agonizing sobbing broke out of you again.
A little time passed, which seemed like hours to you, but could only have been a few minutes. Miguel stayed silent, and you had no idea what he might be doing. You didn't hear him move among the shards of glass, but that didn't mean much. If he wanted to, he could remain completely silent.
Somewhere in the distance, sirens began to wail.
You flinched when you felt his hand on your arm. His claws were no longer out. You didn't answer him when he called you by your name. You were still crying.
“Damn it” he said quietly. “Please, calm down.”
You tried to hold yourself back, you didn't want to anger him again, but you couldn't. Even though every part of you protested when you felt him gently pull your hand away from your face, you didn't resist. Now you could see that he had squatted down in front of you. He wiped a tear off your face with his thumb.
It was evident that he wanted to say something more, but then he changed his mind. This time, much more gently, he reached out to pull you into his arms. As he drew you close to his chest, you responded by clinging to him and burying your face in his shoulder.
You could feel the movement of his muscles beneath his skin as he let out a sigh.
"God, I missed you so much."
You had no idea what expression he might be wearing. Tears were still streaming from your eyes, soaking his superhero suit, but it no longer seemed to bother him.
"I'll never let you go again."
Fragile Apologies (Yandere! Miguel O’Hara x Gn! Reader)
Content notes: minor spoilers for Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, unhealthy/abusive relationships, verbal & emotional abuse, physical intimidation & violence, minor injuries, implied future imprisonment
Word count: around 4k
Short summary: You thought it would be easy to leave your dying relationship with Miguel. This turned out to be not true.
The sun was setting. It cast a long, orange beam on the wall, and you slowly followed it with your eyes as it advanced, gradually fading.
You purposely didn't look at the clock on the wall, you didn't want to know how much time had passed since Miguel decided to pull you onto his lap, not caring that you were right in the middle of preparing dinner. You were relieved you had not boiled the water in advance. You were not sure if the kitchen would burst into flames by the time your boyfriend lets you go.
Miguel's arms wrapped around you like iron bands. He didn't squeeze tightly enough to cause pain, but even so, you wouldn't have been able to move an inch, no matter how much you wanted to. All you could do for your own comfort was to wrap your legs around his hips and let your hands hang by your sides.
From experience, you knew it wasn't worth begging to be let go, no matter how stiff you were or how important a task you had somewhere else. The easiest way was always to simply wait for him to finish.
Your stomach growled loudly. Maybe… Just this once, he might let you go.
Miguel buried his face in your neck, you felt his hot lips and closed eyes on your skin. Softly, you patted his back with one hand, while attempting to slide the other in the gap between your bodies, hoping he would let you push him away.
He didn't move at all, so you let out a frustrated sigh.
“Miguel” you whispered “Miguel, please, let me go. I'm very hungry.”
Despite trying to move and signal that you wanted to break free, you were ignored. Panic started to set in, but you were trying to overcome it. You grabbed his shoulder to try to push yourself away with full force.
It felt like you were trying to move a concrete wall. He showed no reaction, not even his face moved on the skin of your neck.
"Miguel," you hated how whiny, how sharp your voice was. It sounded annoying even to your own ears. "Please, please, let me go!"
“Enough.”
You immediately stiffened. There was something in his voice that made your throat tighten. You waited for him to say something else, anything, as you lowered your hand to its previous place, but in vain. It seemed like it was enough for him that you didn't protest anymore.
The sun set behind the skyscrapers of Nueva York, and the room plunged into darkness. With a defeated sigh, you rested your chin on his shoulder.
Miguel began tracing playful circles on your back with his thumb, pressing slow, deliberate kisses onto your neck. As if your protest woke him up to the fact that he was holding a living being in his arms. The touch of his skin ignited a flare across yours, and your chest tightened with pain.
If only it had always been like this with him. Or at least sometimes, when you would have been open to him too. He was completely unpredictable, never knowing when he'd acknowledge your existence. From the very start, you knew he wasn't an easy personality, but this was something different. You felt both completely abandoned and overwhelmed at the same time.
You raised a hand to ran your fingers through his hair and felt his hands relax around you. You gently kissed his temple.
Suddenly he tensed, and you stifled a quiet scream. You know he would never hurt you, you told yourself, but you weren't convincing enough. You saw with your own eyes how the iron rods bend under his fingers as if they were made of clay.
You watched every news report on TV and every video that Lyla showed about him. You were well aware of what he was capable of. Even in this moment, he could have snapped your spine at any time, a slightly stronger squeeze would have been enough.
“Okay, that's enough," said Miguel, as if you were the one who didn't want to let him go, not the other way around.
"Hey!"
He pushed you off his lap. You would have fallen if he hadn't caught your arm to hold you. You grabbed onto him to regain your balance while he turned his attention towards his watch.
“Lyla, is there anything new?”
“Yes there is, but I didnt want to disturb you lovebirds. It seems like there’s some new info about Vulture, but nothing imminent. Still no info about his whereabouts.”
Miguel hissed in frustration and then turned his back to you. He started heading towards his own room.
"Didn't you want to make dinner?" he threw back before the door closed behind him.
You just stared after him for a few moments, standing alone in the dark room.
"Asshole," you said to the door. You sounded more tired than angry.
You went back to the kitchen and continued preparing dinner. Your home appliances could have made anything you wanted, probably cheaper (and tastier) than you, but there was a certain comfort in this simple routine that you couldn't let go of. Right now, you needed your hands to be busy as you thought through your situation, likely for the hundredth time in the past few weeks.
You didn't want to live like this. That was the simple truth.
When you first got together, Miguel was different. Not by much, but different. He was still willing to put energy into your relationship. However, since then, there have been more and more threats, work and problems, not to mention the number of Spider-Men he kept track of.
He doesn't have the time or energy for those little things that made you fall in love in the first place. You knew what had happened to him before you met, what happened to his daughter and that other universe. You tried to be understanding, genuinely.
Honestly, if it were only you suffering, maybe you could let go of all this, but it seemed like that Miguel also didn't want this relationship that much. Those tender moments that used to be so common between you, the hugs, the kisses, the intimate touches were increasingly scarce.
No, scarcity is not the right word for it. These moments between you slowly condensed into a single point, first daily, then weekly, lately almost monthly, when you often could do nothing but endure whatever he put you through.
You didn't want to think this way about the person you loved more than anything, but when you looked deep inside yourself, you knew you were starting to fear him. It didn't help much that when he wasn't being controlling, he often just plain ignored you, like he was doing right now.
When it first occurred to you that you should move out, you dismissed the thought. Then again. And again.
And then you didn’t.
It was much easier to find a rental apartment than you thought. Even Lyla helped when you asked her to. She hesitated, but not much, she just said you definitely have to talk to Miguel about it, and you agreed with her. You didn't understand why you haven't brought up the matter to him since then.
Maybe because you knew trying to reason with him wouldn't accomplish anything, as you had asked him many times before to consider your feelings. Maybe because you felt this was a much bigger step than anything you've brought up before. Or maybe it was the guilt you felt over the fact that you were increasingly looking forward to the date when you could finally move out.
This date was tomorrow.
You finished dinner. Two plates of boiled egg sandwiches with salad and a soft drink. Nothing special, you just tried to drag out the preparation as long as possible. You laid everything out on the table and then leaned against the counter. It's been so long since you've eaten together like this. Lately, Miguel ate everything in his own room or wherever he happened to be on a mission.
You took a deep breath, then pushed yourself off the counter. You started walking towards Miguel's room to knock. You thought you'd have to beg again, so you were surprised when the door slid open in front of you.
You entered the dimly lit, cold room filled with humming and blinking computers. You didn't like being here. You never knew when you'd see something on one of the screens that you couldn't get out of your head for weeks.
"What is it?" Miguel sounded annoyed, but at least he turned in his chair to look at you. You saw his eyes searching your hand for the plate of dinner you usually set outside his door, as if he were a teenage kid and you a resigned parent. When he realized you were empty-handed, he furrowed his eyebrows. "Is something wrong?"
You cleared your throat. You felt your heart racing, making you feel like an idiot. You had prepared for this moment for so long, yet now you wanted to turn around and flee. But why am I still so scared?
“No, I just want to talk to you. Can you come out a bit? I've set the table outside.”
Miguel looked like he would rather say he was too busy, but when he looked at your face, it was clear that he knew something was wrong. After a brief silence, he spoke up in a surprisingly gentle tone.
"Just give me a minute to finish this. Lyla!"
You didn't wait to hear all his instructions. You went back to the kitchen and waited for him there.
"If this matter is so important, you can tell me now," Miguel said.
"Let's eat first, please. We can talk after. I promise, this will be the only time.”
It was clear that this did not decrease his suspicion, but rather fuelled it. Nevertheless, he sat down and without any further talk picked up his sandwich. This compelled you to do the same.
As you ate, you tried to formulate in your mind what you would eventually say to him from the myriad of possibilities you had gathered. It proved to be surprisingly difficult, and you didn't feel ready to speak when you finally finished eating.
Miguel leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Well? I'm all ears.”
There was something so condescending in his voice that your jaw tightened. You closed your eyes for a moment before you spoke. You tried to keep your voice calm.
“I've been thinking a lot lately. About you, about us… You know this isn't working. I don't know if Lyla told you, but…"
Miguel slammed the table so hard that the cutlery clinked. Your breath hitched. You didn't even see him move.
“Again, seriously? Look, I don't have time for this. I understand that you're not happy with the current situation, and believe me, neither am I. But still…”
“I want to leave you, Miguel.”
He immediately stopped talking. You just stared at each other. The sound of the impact was still ringing in your ears.
Eventually, you broke the silence again.
"I'm sorry. Believe me, I really am sorry. I know we've tried a lot…" I tried, you told yourself, “but I don't want to continue this. It will be better for both of us if we can move on."
“Vale” he said dryly.”And what are you going to do after this? Do you have any idea what's out there in the city?”
"Yes. I've already found an apartment, well, we've found one with Lyla."
Another silence followed. You stood up from the table.
“I'm sorry” you said again. You didn't even know what got into you when you reached out to stroke his hair.
"Don't," he hissed, causing your hand to stop in the air. He turned away from you.
“What are you waiting for? Pack your stuff and get out of here.”
This time you didn't hesitate. You turned around and left to gather your things.
***
Unbelievable. Just fucking unbelievable, really.
A week had passed since you moved out. Miguel refused to use the word ‘permanently’. At first, he didn't even want to believe that you were really capable of going so far as to bring up the breakup, and he never dreamed that you would actually go through with it.
As you packed, he waited for the moment when you'd break down and apologize, when you'd take everything back to let things return to how they used to be.
As it turned out, he waited in vain. Somehow, you had enough backbone not to waver as you always did before. This was his mistake, he should have noticed the signs that this time you are not just planning, but also acting.
His fist clenched at the thought that Lyla helped you without telling him. This could never happen again. When you told him this, he was so furious that he was on the verge of smashing the table between you. He was so angry that he feared he might actually harm you. This is partly why he didn't stand in your way when you started pulling your suitcase out.
But now? Now he was left alone, and he knew he would never be able to truly let you go.
He lay alone in his bed. He managed to fall asleep on the first night, perhaps he didn't even dream, but then he woke up in the middle of the night. He was so used to you being next to him when he slept, regardless of the time of day, that when he didn't hear your breathing in his sleep, panic immediately set in.
He woke up to his heart almost bursting out of his chest, while clutching the spot on the sheet where you usually lay. He hated himself for being so predictable, and he hated you for eliciting this from him even when you weren't near.
Since then, he hardly slept at all. He was so tense that even the slightest slight could push him to the brink of a rage fit. For a while, Lyla didn't even try to reason with him.
He immediately got your address from her, of course, then checked it out for himself. He deliberately didn't go when he knew you would be home, but he couldn't help it, he had to cling to the walls of the surrounding buildings to watch when your figure, shrouded in shadows, got home.
Villains came to his mind. They were the ones who thought like him in this moment. Obsessively focusing on a single target as if his life depended on it… In a way, it was a very petty mindset. Not suited for someone responsible for the safety of others. But that's exactly what he was doing – watching over you and ensuring no threat reached you. Of course, he continued to track Vulture and the others as well, not to mention the other Spider-People, but it was true that they all took a backseat when it came to you.
No, he wasn’t like the villains. He did this because you were important to him. If you had a little sense, you could have seen this too. That's why he waited through this week to calm down enough to speak to you in a normal tone. If possible, it would have been best if you came back to him of your own free will, but if he scares you, he might achieve the opposite.
Actually, what he wanted most was for you to come back on your own with your stupid suitcase, but so far you've held firm. It seemed you were doing just fine without him. Sometimes he even caught you humming to yourself on the way home. You haven't done that in months at his place. Miguel didn't even want to admit to himself that this made a small part of his heart ache.
The problem was that as time went on, he didn't become calmer, quite the opposite. If he wasn't thinking about you, then he was thinking about the things that could harm you while you weren't with him. If something were to happen to you when he wasn't there…
He didn't finish the thought. He couldn't.
A soft beep came from his watch. A reported robbery. Since it seemed the local patrol had already dealt with the matter, he almost settled back down, but then he glanced at the holographic map.
He immediately jumped to his feet. His blood thudded in his ears so loudly that he could barely hear Lyla's responses to the instructions he barked at her as he headed out.
The robbery had occurred near your block. Right next to you.
***
You stood with your arms crossed in front your chest in the window of your third-floor living room. The sirens had long since gone silent and the police had left. The case did not seem serious, and you were not overly worried. These things were not unusual in this city. Before you got together with Miguel, you often saw similar crimes.
Miguel. You thought you would miss him more, but from the very first days you felt the invisible weight lifting off your shoulders. You unpacked the few belongings you brought with you and started creating a new life for yourself.
It was good to occupy yourself with something other than ruminating about your ex. It was strange that you no longer had to think about when you would push him away or make him angry with some insignificant detail.
At first, you didn't even notice the dull thud that sounded like a heavy object had hit the wall of your panel apartment.
Then your bedroom window burst.
You slapped your hand over your mouth before you could scream. You looked around the room, then crouched behind the couch in the corner, using the clatter of the glass shards to cover the sound of your movement. You didn't turn on the light in the living room because you didn't want anyone to notice you watching the police cars, but the light was on in your bedroom. The intruder must have seen this.
Who was currently out in the city? Vulture? Venture? And who else? They shouldn't have known who you are. While you were with Miguel, you barely left the apartment. No one has seen you two in the same place for months.
You covered your face with your palm as a massive thud shook the wall behind you. That might have been the door that led to the hallway.
“Where are you?”
Your breath hitched. This can't be happening.
You almost answered him, but changed your mind at the last minute. You flinched when another blow shook the house. It was the wall mirror.
You pulled your knees to your chest, using one hand to stifle the sob rising in your throat, and the other to pull your phone out of your pocket. Who should you call? You can't send normal cops after Miguel. Plus, you've never heard him like this.
A superhero wouldn't harm innocents… But a superhero wouldn't break into his ex's home like this either. If he just wants to save you from something, then why did he smash everything in his path? No, you felt that you shouldn't come out, but with his senses, it shouldn't have taken much time for him to find you.
As if he heard your thoughts.
“I know you're here. I can smell you.”
His voice was slightly calmer than it was a few moments ago. You heard him take a deep breath. This meant that it was quiet enough that if you started crying now, he would find you instantly.
You didn't dare to move. Tears freely flowed down your face, but you didn't feel it. Suddenly, you became very aware that you really had no idea how good his hearing was.
He stopped in the hallway. What was he doing? Fiddling with something, but what…
Your phone rang in your hand.
The next moment, the couch disappeared in front of you. You didn't have time to end the call before Miguel grabbed your shirt to pull you up. Your back hit the wall, knocking all the air out of your lungs. Your phone fell to the ground, but you didn't even try to catch it. Sharp claws tore up the fabric of your clothes where he held you.
You cried out in pain and terror.
For a moment, you locked eyes with each other before Miguel's red gaze slid down to scan your body. It took a little time for you to realize he was looking for injuries.
When he was convinced that you were unharmed, he slightly loosened his grip, but not enough for you to break free. You desperately clung to his wrist, despite knowing that if he wanted to kill you, nothing would stop him, especially not your weak human hands.
"Please, don't hurt me," you whimpered from the depths of your throat.
He growled. You had never heard this sound from him before.
“Hurt you? Are you out of your mind? I'm here to take you home.”
You didn't dare shake your head, but he must have seen something in your eyes. Suddenly, you felt your feet on the floor again.
Miguel dragged you by the remnants of your shirt like a ragdoll. Your mind was foggy with panic, yet you instinctively tried to dig your heel into the carpet. As you passed by the doorway, you reached out to grasp it, but it didn't slow him down. You felt something crack in your shoulder, then the burning pain flooded you. You had to let go.
You needed all your willpower not to scream when you saw what he had done to your apartment. It was as if someone had let loose a small hurricane. Your knee was scraped raw on the few feets leading to your front door, not to mention the shards of glass Miguel dragged you over. You were so terrified that you barely felt the pain.
You thought he would drag you straight out of the apartment, so you squeaked in surprise when he stopped in front of the door and let go of your shirt. As you collapsed unceremoniously onto the floor, he stood in front of you.
"I want you to pay very close attention to me, because I won't say this again. What do you see?"
You looked at him in shock. You followed his gaze with your eyes as he pointed to the lock.
"The door handle?”
He growled so loudly that your chest trembled. He reached down to roughly grab the back of your neck. His claws left shallow scratches on your skin as he forced you to stare at the lock above the door handle.
"This is a damn biometric identifier. Do you know how long it takes for someone to get a few samples from you? For God's sake, do you know how hard it would be to break in here?”
You were afraid that a stronger jerk and he might just tear your head off. You whimpered like a cornered animal.
"Answer me!"
"Very easy?" you muttered.
“Exactly! And do you know what's the deal with your windows? Anyone can see in, from anywhere, not to mention breaking in.”
Yes, you demonstrated that very well, you thought numbly, but you had the sense not to say it out loud. He let go again, and you took the opportunity to slide against the wall. You huddled up just like you did in the living room only a few minutes ago.
Miguel said something in Spanish, but he spoke too quickly for you to understand. He paced back and forth in front of you.
"I simply don't understand what was going through your head. It's a miracle you're still alive. What if those on the streets decide to break in? What if they follow you to your apartment?"
He roughly ran his hand through his hair.
"I know foresight isn't your strong suit, that's for sure, but even you have to see this. You need to come back with me. It's obvious you can't keep yourself safe."
You were about to shake your head, but you stopped yourself. Instead, you covered your face, and agonizing sobbing broke out of you again.
A little time passed, which seemed like hours to you, but could only have been a few minutes. Miguel stayed silent, and you had no idea what he might be doing. You didn't hear him move among the shards of glass, but that didn't mean much. If he wanted to, he could remain completely silent.
Somewhere in the distance, sirens began to wail.
You flinched when you felt his hand on your arm. His claws were no longer out. You didn't answer him when he called you by your name. You were still crying.
“Damn it” he said quietly. “Please, calm down.”
You tried to hold yourself back, you didn't want to anger him again, but you couldn't. Even though every part of you protested when you felt him gently pull your hand away from your face, you didn't resist. Now you could see that he had squatted down in front of you. He wiped a tear off your face with his thumb.
It was evident that he wanted to say something more, but then he changed his mind. This time, much more gently, he reached out to pull you into his arms. As he drew you close to his chest, you responded by clinging to him and burying your face in his shoulder.
You could feel the movement of his muscles beneath his skin as he let out a sigh.
"God, I missed you so much."
You had no idea what expression he might be wearing. Tears were still streaming from your eyes, soaking his superhero suit, but it no longer seemed to bother him.
"I'll never let you go again."
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)
•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.