Chapter Text
You are pursuing your education in Boston to seek a new atmosphere even though your beloved uncle asked you to stay in Neuva York. Of course, your father and mother continue to support your decision and scold your uncle for spoiling you too much. Well, you are a smart woman; quite spoiled by certain people—especially since your uncle always gives you luxuries life, he works in a high position at Alchemax Company and telling you all the time you would be immediately accepted if you decided worked at the same company since high school. You know very well that action was quite wrong—getting accepted without going through an interview because of your uncle's influence there. Yeah, once again, no one asked you to be born with such luck.
If it can be easy, why choose the hard way?
Honestly, you didn't take your studies seriously in college because of that information.
Gosh, you're apologizing to your parents in your heart right now.
However, lately, you have been crying more often after remembering your uncle's death—it's been so many years, your heart often mourns when you hear the name Alchemax Company in the news or from your friends' mouths. Your boyfriend and good friends are always there for you whenever you cry. You know your life is happy; guaranteed by the wealth and influence of your family in this business world. However, your uncle is the only person who understands you better than anyone else. You and your mother's brother have same dream of achieving something great, but the point of incompetence becomes a barrier after realizing lack of talent.
Aaron Delgato is your uncle's name.
You curse the company's statement when they mentioned your uncle's honour service there, but your uncle ended up dying while working there. Accident—you don't know what kind of accident happened to your uncle there, but your father mentioned there were deep claw marks around his arm when seeing his poor dead body. What is it? Wild animals in the company? You don't understand except a fact your uncle likes to research something there. Related to chemicals, but isn't it illegal to use animals as test subjects? If using animals as test samples, it's impossible for your uncle to deal with wild animals.
You are too lost in your thoughts—eyes staring at streets of Neuva York City do not notice anything.
"Babe, if you're thinking about your uncle again. Better stop it for now." Your lover, Harry Osborn, spoke with concern but still reminded you. Your eyes blink back to reality—turning to him who is driving his car.
"You always look pale when you remember your uncle. Your family can die of worry." Harry is a handsome man, he has a good heart. His father looks ambitious and intimidating—you hope he doesn't follow in his father's footsteps too much.
After graduating, you and Harry decided to live in Neuva York. You lived with your parents again and your boyfriend rented an apartment in one of the districts near downtown. Your family and Harry family have taken the time to discuss your both engagement plans, of course, you feel happy because you love him. He also loves you—your relationship has truly been woven from the beginning of college until graduation. But, you feel puzzled, your body seems to give a rebellious sensation. Your heart races near your lover, but your body seems to reject it. Also, this sensation intensifies when you both entering this city.
A slight warmth with a hint of guilt, a heartbeat that triggers your brain as if you are losing something, and feeling a desire you don't know what it is.
As if there were—chemicals working inside your body.
"Jeez, you were daydreaming again." Harry glanced at you for a moment, but then he laughed. Quite charming with his dimples. "But, while you're looking at me? I allowed it."
"Sorry, baby." You chuckle softly when you hear his joke. He looked handsome in a formal suit and neatly styled thick red hair—he was really serious about his appearance because he was going to meet your family.
"Do you think I need to get a medical check-up?" You asked for his opinion after feeling complicated symptoms in your body. Even though you didn't tell your boyfriend everything—you only shared a little bit.
"Medical? I think the problem lies in your mental conditions. How about I find you the best psychologist here?" He feels that the level of your sadness when you remember your uncle is quite bad.
You are sure you don't have a mental illness, but you decide to trust Harry—your body must be fine, you're just getting carried away by random suggestion in your mind. If you think about it again, is there a connection with your uncle? When you were little, he once gave you a vaccine—your uncle told you the liquid inside that syringe was a vaccine, but what if it wasn't? What if he gives you a serum with prolonged side effects? Alchemax has several scandals, and it's possible you might be affected by those scandals because of your uncle.
No, no, your uncle definitely wouldn't just inject anything bad into your body. You almost never get sick afterwards—so those vaccine is the result of his genius work.
"No need. If I feel I need it, I will contact you." Still, you feel foolish if you visit a psychologist when you don't feel any burden in life.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, babe." He reminds you again—you chuckle, hums. He will definitely scold you if you talk about psychological issues. Harry is someone who likes to consult with psychologist when he feels excessive stress.
You take a tumblr from the car's cup holder—glancing out the window with your mouth sipping cappuccino. As usual, you love the hustle and bustle of this city, and Boston can't provide this kind of busyness. You can be more productive when you see busy people. Sometimes, you wander at night to enjoy the nightlife in Neuva York, lights from tall buildings always delight your view. You will miss Boston, but life in Neuva York will feel more enjoyable. Being with your family and working at Alchemax Company—yeah, you will still be working there, and spending more time with soon to be fiancé because he is helping his father's work from his apartment. Work from home.
"You said you would visit Alchemax tomorrow. Is it necessary?" Harry asked—he must know you would be accepted immediately without having to go through an interview. Your uncle has already ensured you get a job position there.
"I need to visit, it would feel too cruel if I wasn't seen on the interview day by others but suddenly showed up on the first day." You tell him. He mumbles in agreement, you can see your boyfriend nodding from the reflection in car window.
"Excited to work as a security engineer?"
"Hell yeah."
You have always loved jobs related to digital security after your gaming account was hacked by someone when you were still a child. It left quite an impression, enough to influence your passion when you grew up. You remember Harry laughing heartily when you told the story behind your desire to study Informatics Engineering in college. You did have difficulty studying it, but you graduated with a fairly high GPA. If only your uncle didn't have influence there—you would still be confident you could pass the interview if you wanted to apply. But not for a high position, because you are rumored to become one of the lead team there.
You are like a butterfly that has just emerged from its cocoon, but can already fly more beautifully than other butterflies.
"I also can't let you stay in Boston if you want to settle there. I believe someone is following you there." Harry sounded angry and worried. You did mention feeling someone following you on certain days—especially during holidays. According to him, it is not surprising because your parents and uncle are influential people in Neuva York.
"But for years, it seems like he was just following. Do you think my parents secretly sent someone to watch over me?"
"Only on holidays? It feels strange, babe. If they really care about you, they shouldn't have to do it secretly like that, and that person should be watching over you every day."
Harry made a valid point when he said that, after all. Your mother must have told you because you have nothing to hide from her. You and Harry? Your family already knows about your relationship with him, and having sex is not a taboo thing for your parents. As long as you date a man with a clear background and a family that matches yours—your parents will not forbid anything.
In short, you have a freak stalker, and you hope that stalker doesn't have enough money to move to Neuva York either because you've already spent quite a bit of money to paying public eye protection when you go out of the dorm to hang out so that freak stalker doesn't take more aggressive steps to bother you. You didn't tell your parents or they might die worrying you. Speaking of your family, you have arrived at outskirts of Neuva York City where your family's mansion is located. You never liked taking the air route with a car—Harry always insisted on taking land route even though it took a bit longer.
"We have arrived." Harry told you, stopping near the mansion gate—leaning towards you to land a brief kiss on your cheek. "I'm sure your parents are waiting." You turned to him with a sweet smile. As he stepped back, your fingers tugged at sleeve of his suit.
Your lips kissed his cheek too in return.
"Love you, don't be too nervous." You winked and patted his shoulder. You can see Harry's sweaty neck—he is really nervous. So cute.
"Man, which man isn't nervous when meeting his family's lover for the first time?" He laughed nervously, but it seemed got carried away after you returned his kiss. You can feel his fingers moving to touch underside of your chin.
"You are very charming." He whispered. His dark green pupils glanced down to observe floral dress you were wearing—white with simple lace, but adding an extra essence.
"Don't you want to kiss me?" You tease him a little—two hands caressing his chest with corner of your lips that you bite gently. Your boyfriend is indeed very handsome, european descent with a proportional body—he looks very sweet when he smiles.
"Damn you, gorgeous, I will." He is tempted by your seduction, of course, he will kiss your lips even if you don't offer. You are the most perfect woman compared to his ex-girlfriend. His father's words are true, you are a woman of value and class—not selfish even though you are quite spoiled when it comes to what you want.
You leaned in first, wanting to show him you had initiative, but Harry met your lips faster—you both closed eyes, exchanging soft kisses that deepened as mouths opened. Your fingers caress side of his neck, not wanting to ruin any side of his suit. His breath was slightly heavy, trying to show affection rather desire, and he succeeded. You received a gentle kiss filled with his affection, you can feel his hand gently stroking your hair.
Again, you feel it, the sensation you usually feel when making physical contact with him—warmth with a hint of guilt and a heartbeat as if you've lost something. Your heart loves him, but your body seems to react otherwise. You try to suppress your body's reaction because your heart's feelings win decisively.
When you opened your eyes—you accidentally glanced towards your family's mansion and noticed someone walking from a distance towards the gate. Not wanting to create an awkward situation for your parents' guest, you gently tapped Harry's shoulder. He seemed to understand you saw something behind his back. Releasing a kiss with his thumb brushing under your lip.
"I didn't know my parents were receiving guests on a holiday." Usually, your parents don't want to socialize during holidays. Your eyes couldn't quite recognize the guest, but he had a big and muscular body.
"Sudden business?" Harry replied to you. Turning off his car as you were about to step out from there. Guest or not, you still have to greet along with your boyfriend. You hope you know that guest so you don't have to introduce yourself again.
"Maybe." You answered uncertainly—smiling as he offered his arm to you. Of course, you moved closer so you could wrap your arms around him. Showing you two are in a relationship is a must.
You and Harry walked through gate that opened automatically, and the AI also drove Harry's car to park neatly in outer parking area even though it was already turned off—technology has advanced rapidly since 2050. When your eyes focus on your parents guest, you realize you don't know him at all. Harry felt the same, but it was strange because the man, who looked much older, was wearing sunglasses. You don't mind—you find it quite impressive, still wearing a t-shirt with a leather jacket and even leather pants. Still has a youthful taste, but adjusted to his age. Tan skin looks good with his fashion sense.
You and Harry walked against male guest, but when you stopped as the distance closed in, you realized how big his body was. You considered a man with such a muscular build to be quite intimidating and a bit uncomfortable for you, but you smiled at him as he stopped too.
"Thank you for taking the time to meet my family, Sir." You speak politely. Your boyfriend greets him with a friendly smile because you have started the conversation.
"You—" Strange, this is strange. The man replied while looking at you from behind his sunglasses. However, your body feels something you've never felt before. Your heart is pounding so hard until it shakes your pupils. "—Mr. Delgato's niece?"
Why did he have to bring it up? Harry looked a bit annoyed, but he couldn't blame the guest for not knowing about your heart condition that still mourns even though your uncle's death was years ago. Your boyfriend embraced your shoulder to comfort you. This man is already in his thirties, a father of someone, you know because you are quite skilled at observing someone's demeanor. A bit confusing because this man is actually carrying your uncle's name, not your parents'. Does he know your uncle?
"Yes." You nod—your voice weak with a gloomy expression. You don't want to ask further questions besides answering his. Your hand brushes your arm, recalling childhood moments when your uncle often visited.
"[Full Name]. This is my boyfriend, Harry Osborn." You smiled warmly again. Looking at Harry who is still staring at the man—your shoulder is still being rubbed by him. Your lover smiled and extended the other hand to him. They shook hands formally.
"You can call me Mike. Your father's colleague." His voice sounded firm, he smiled because he felt the need to reciprocate both of your smiles. He stepped back slightly after shaking hands with Harry. "Your father once told me about you, first time seeing you in person."
"I hope my father doesn't exaggerate about me too much." You decided to joke a little—your fingers awkwardly scratching your cheek. You would be very embarrassed if your father did it, you wouldn't be very proud of yourself.
"No. But, he always talks about your potential." Oh, does this man take it seriously? You want to be impressed, but he answered it too seriously. You don't know what kind of gaze is behind those glasses, and you're not curious either.
"—Mm. I have to take my leave. I still have some matters to attend to, it was nice meeting you, Miss and you too, Mr. Osborn." Mike said goodbye after looking at the watch on his wrist. His expression is fierce, but he doesn't mean it that way. Of course, you and Harry let him go as you understand with a nod.
But, when that man actually passed your presence—
—You feel your heart beating just like before.
Beating very hard. Once, but it affects your body's condition.
Your pupils trembled violently for a moment, and a pulse was felt in your ears.
It's like something is kicking in from the inside.
"What's wrong?" Harry turned to you when he saw your hand touching your chest. He furrowed his brows in concern. His body slightly bent to look at your face, which was slightly bowed.
"N-Nothing, it seems like I haven't been getting enough sleep, my heart is racing." You're sure about that, lately you've been staying up late to take care of your job application documents.
"Promise me to sleep earlier today. Tomorrow you have to visit company, right?" Your lover insisted a bit, and you nodded obediently. When you feel better—you walk towards the mansion again with him.
However, unbeknownst to you, the man—whose real name is Miguel O'Hara—stopped in his tracks, turning his head. he observed you from a blind spot. Unlike your reaction, in truth, he feels the same bodily reaction as you. It's just that he is more skilled at hiding it. His expression remained flat, but his crimson pupils glimmered slightly behind sunglasses. The fangs he had been trying to hide all this time felt itchy. Now his heart beats more wildly after you and Harry stopped paying attention to him, a bit of sweat trickled down the back of his neck, his heart and body seemed to be affected by a sensation he never wanted to feel.
After meeting you in person, he is more aware how much your presence will torment him after this.
'Aaron, you fucking scoundrel, you still torture me even though you're already dead.'
𓁹
Your boyfriend's meeting with your family went very smoothly. They talked with laughter and spent time discussing your and Harry's plans to build a life together—your father looked a bit older, but seemed healthier now. Your mother is the same. You and your mother talk more often and let Harry and your father play golf in backyard of mansion in the afternoon. After lunch, your mother talked about Mike as one of topics, researchers at Alchemax Company who has been very helpful to your father. You understand now why your parents are no longer burdened too much by business matters. It seems like he is a good person, but he looks strict and fierce. You are a bit at guilt for considering his first impression as scary person.
Now you know you might meet Mike again at Alchemax Company—you want to thank him if you get the chance.
"Dear, there are some of your uncle's belongings and documents that he wants to keep for you. I have already placed it under your mattress."
Your mother told you after dinner. Harry had already returned to his apartment in the afternoon to tidy up his belongings so as not to stay too late—after kissing your father's and mother's cheeks, you tried your best to hide your sadness after hearing your mother's words. You know your mother just told you now because she didn't want you to think about your uncle too much. You close your bedroom door and take a deep, trembling breath, oh, you miss your uncle and this room of yours. Big and comfortable—at least you really feel at home now.
After cleaning yourself up and putting on a thin nightgown, you opened a can of your favorite drink to quench your thirst after a day of talking with your family. Your hand opened the window near study desk; this room lacks air circulation because it has not been occupied by you for years—after sipping a quarte, you placed the can on your table. Other hand picks up your phone next to it. You want to call Harry, but you're sure he's busy moving his stuff into his new apartment. Your fingers ended up sending a message and telling your boyfriend you would go to bed earlier tonight.
'Alright, babe, let me know when you want to leave tomorrow, I'll take you there. Sleep well!'
You sit on edge of your bed, facing door entrance, smiling as you look at your phone screen. You put your phone on bedside table after replying to his message with a heart emoji. Usually, you would do a sleep call with your boyfriend until one of you falls asleep. But not today, you're busy with something else. Your body bent slightly with a strand of hair falling as your hand reached for the box under your bed—according to your mother, she placed the box containing your uncle's belongings there. You pull the box and place it beside you.
"I'm curious why my uncle's things were sent to me?"
You murmured very softly as your hands took out each item from there one by one. It mostly contains digital frames displaying photos of your uncle and you when you were little. You smile with overwhelmed emotion—your fingers brush the frame, your uncle looks happy every time he is near you. Ah, your uncle really spoils you with gifts and attention, even taking the time for a video call despite being busy in his office.
"This—"
You notice another digital frame, without you. Photo of your uncle and his colleagues at the Alchemax company. There is no one you recognize—except for Mike, the man you met in front of your mansion, but he looks younger. Your eyes observe him more closely, oh, he is quite attractive? Not enough to catch your attention, you're just complimenting. Observing more closely, this time you focus on his eyes because he was wearing sunglasses earlier,
he has crimson pupils.
"!!!"
Suddenly, the side effect happened again. You let out a surprised breath—your hand hurriedly clutching front of your chest.
Your gaze momentarily faltered for a second.
You look at Mike as if finding something that fulfills your sense of loss.
As if you know him and slowly look at him as someone you should have.
"What happened to me?"
You don't suspect anything. Even though you have experienced this for the second time, first by looking directly at the man and now indirectly from your uncle digital frame. You bent over with your breath racing—your hands felt shaky as you held the frame, but you didn't want to acknowledge Mike's presence there. A drop of sweat trickled down from side of your forehead, dampening frame that you immediately wiped clean with your fingers. Your eyes are watching your uncle in that photo—who looks just like the last time you saw him.
"Now I know Mr. Mike and my uncle know each other." You put digital frame back into its box—your hand reaching for the document as second item your uncle had stored there. Your breath is still quite hurried, but it quickly calms down as you read the cover of documents. Most of it, its about the projects that your uncle couldn't complete.
But as you were separating documents one by one from stack on your lap, you found one document with a slightly different appearance—the cover of this document was written entirely by hand, meaning your uncle wrote it manually. You glance at the bottom of document and read a sentence 'For my dearest niece'.
You were a bit surprised, this document clearly contained the project he was running, but you didn't expect your uncle to include you in it. Swallowing with a pounding heart, you opened contents of the document, which contained data about you; birth data, your physical condition, your blood test results, photos of you from infancy to almost your teenage years, and much more. But, it wasn't that which surprised you, rather a sentence written by two different people. It seems this document can only be accessed by two people. Your uncle and... who else?
'Long-term development of the subject.'
That's not your uncle's writing. But the word 'subject' was crossed out and replaced with the word 'my niece', and it was written by your uncle. When you try to find out, the continuation of your document's content disappears. In other words, it was stolen by someone or your own uncle who separated it, but you can't read what is meant by long-term development. Is this about the vaccine that your uncle once injected into you?
"Uncle Aaron... what are you doing? I hope you didn't damage my body." You are receiving too much information right now and you don't plan to tell your parents about this. They clearly did not look for what was in this box; if they had, your father and mother would have definitely checked your physical condition from the beginning.
You hurriedly put all items into the box and stored it back under your mattress. You plan to unpack rest of your uncle's belongings tomorrow—after visiting the company—because there are still many items inside and it could take hours. You got up after looking at digital clock on your phone screen.
Nine at night, you have to start sleeping to make up for the sleep you missed in past few days.
You approached the window you had opened to let the room have some air circulation for a while, your hands didn't bother to lock it, this mansion is large and tightly guarded by public eye and AI security—no one dares to enter. Your hand picked up a leftover drink, you gulped down all of it and tossed the can into small trash bin beside study desk—your mind is slightly adrift with the document, the oddities of your uncle's death, and your first meeting with Mike.
You swore you would slowly find out about your uncle's death once you started working at Alchemax. Can Mike help you? Considering he is close to your father even know your uncle when he was young.
Shit, your head is thinking too much right now. You will go straight to sleep after washing your face and brushing your teeth. Strangely, tonight you seem a bit sleepy, you should be thankful for today's busyness.
Maybe?
𓁹
He doesn't know how long he has been doing all this, but one thing is certain—he must admit how the thrill within him triggers an addiction behind feeling of guilt.
He had been circling the madness for quite some time; working as leader of the Spider Society and considering entire universe as his responsibility, but no one ever sincerely thanked or apologized to him when he was troubled. Most of them oppose and fight against him—positioning himself as a villain. He was fed up, truly fed up, his temper worsening day by day, and now issues at his own universe were making things worse.
He regretted being curious and finding out the origin of that accident in the lab; Aaron was supposed to inject something that ended up killing him, but he ended up gaining Spiderman's powers unnaturally. His life changed since then—senior he admired turned out to tried to kill him. When he found out about it, he was grateful the bastard died with claw marks on his arm. Died because of falling with eyes open.
Now, several years have passed, Miguel watches over you whenever he has free time—mostly during holidays or whenever he can spare a moment amidst his busy schedule. You are studying in Boston, but portal technology makes that no problem at all. First, he hated you because your face looked a bit like Aaron's, considering you looked very much like your mother. However, he hated even more the fact that all this time—the Spiderman project was supposed to be aimed at you, but it ended up failing because the equipment malfunctioned. You should have been the one to experience this curse, but your uncle was too foolish back then.
The vaccine your uncle injected is not a vaccine, but a serum to get your body accustomed to all side effects you will experience in his big project. However, because your DNA did not undergo the subsequent process, Miguel received the continuation process with those side effects—because he did not receive that serum.
In the end, you and Miguel will experience attraction when look into each other's eyes or get to know each other through indirect media. The side effects of physical symptoms, hormonal disturbances, and feeling a bond with each other occur because, essentially, Miguel's body is accustomed to you, and vice versa.
"Mig, you know she is not a threat to you."
AI figure, Lyla, seemed to be trying to remind her boss. However, Miguel did not listen and never respond anything when she said that.
Night time atmosphere in Boston is not as lively as in Neuva York City.
He is following you, and you clearly know it, but he is skilled enough to cover his presence. Sometimes wearing casual clothes or using his costume when dealing with crime in the city of Boston. Lyla's warning is a mistake, he doesn't see you as a threat, you don't know what your uncle wants to do to you—you are just a college student who isn't very focused on your education, often going to clubs with your friends and boyfriend, sometimes doing humanitarian activities to boost your social points.
Miguel follows you because of his inconsistent temper, mixed with hatred, problems, and an addictive side that grows the longer he stares at you.
Ah, to be honest, you didn't suspect anything for almost a year when he started following you—maybe once or twice a week. But when you started to realize, he was thrilled to see your nervous and fearful reactions. Even though you paid public eye to guard you, Miguel was more skilled than their pitiful watch. He still clearly remembers when you entering one of the cafes that was about to close because his presence had made you paranoid.
Your face is pale.
Your pupils are slightly trembling.
Your hands clutch collar of your shirt as if afraid of being humiliated.
Your eyes gaze out the window as if you could find him.
You are beautiful from your mother's genetics, but Miguel prefers to observe you when you are scared and paranoid. An extra value that will become your personal charm to his crimson eyes.
Miguel once dared to walk not far behind you, giving off an aura you would never forget—your shoulders felt a chill and you felt either certain or uncertain because at that moment there were many people around. If you turn around, will you find your stalker? Or will you just jump to conclusions and stare at the stranger awkwardly? When he walks closer until he's right behind you—your body seems to emit an intoxicating scent. At that moment, you only noticed figure behind you had a big shadow blocking the sunlight above you, but you didn't know the owner of that shadow was your stalker.
Ah, the scent from your body truly makes him addicted, gathering saliva in his mouth, making his fangs feel itchier as if he wants to prey on you.
Every breath you take,
Every move you make,
Every bond you break,
Every step you take,
He'll be watching you.
Now, you innocently return to Neuva York, where Miguel is more often active. He didn't expect you and Harry to come and run into him when he came to visit to discuss work matters with your father, but, know this, he already saw you and Harry from a distance. You both kissed inside the car—he was used to it, often seeing you and Harry kiss and hearing you both have sex from outside room. He is not a freak—leaving immediately upon hearing that activity, but he harbors an unpleasant feeling when looking at your lover—even when his hand shook hands with him, he cursed in his heart that the touch wouldn't last long.
His body heated up with anger when he saw your lover.
Indeed, hating you for a temporary reason is the biggest mistake. After experiencing loss—he entered a new process to seek a new pleasure, and you became a victim of trauma he felt after losing his daughter and destroying a universe. No one thanks or apologizes—not even truly appreciating his efforts.
If he finds pleasure in watching you, then so be it.
Miguel is sure you have already gotten clues about the serum your uncle injected, and he is even sure you found that document when you entered your room. Oh? That's right, he was the mastermind behind disappearance of those documents part; you don't need to know your uncle's purpose for injecting that serum. If you must know, then he will tell you directly.
One day.
Ah, you are so careless, why did you open your bedroom window? You think the security of your mansion is tight? You're dead wrong. Miguel has been looking for security weakness every time he visits. Now you're acting foolish after placing your drink near the window, you won't know what he put in there. No, no, he didn't want kill you—he just made you sleep easier, as you wished, but you will sleep very soundly—not being able to realize anything.
When you are sound asleep, he easily enters your room after opening the window you didn't lock. He used his spiderman costume to make it easier to get past the guards outside. You fell asleep on your side with a blanket covering your body, he heard the vibration of your phone on small table, probably one of your friends sent a message.
Really, no one isn't scared when realizing such a huge figure has entered their bedroom, not even imagining—Spiderman, who always protects the city from bad people, would visit a woman's room without her knowledge. Are you lucky? Or unlucky? As steps draw closer, crimson pupils behind his costume mask locking onto you as your body spoiled his gaze. Your phone screen still on—displaying a message from your friend in Boston, coincidentally asking about your situation in Neuva York and mentioning your stalker.
Fuck, Miguel O'Hara is your stalker, you should feel lucky.
He hissed and groaned roughly as he stared at your phone screen, which emitted a bright light—you were sleeping in a dark room, and the light disturbed his vision. His hand moved with his fingers turning off your phone screen. When his eyes refocused on you—his breath caught when heard your uncomfortable moan vibrated against your neck, what you were dreaming about?
Your face is so calm, attractive in a certain way, your mouth slightly open to exhale breath from there—your eyes closed so innocently, he is sure you would never suspect a stalker like him would take such an extreme step. Watching you sleep right in front of him standing with hands that could hurt you at any moment, but hurting you is too easy for him and you don't deserve to be hurt for now.
"Aaron, are you watching this from hell?" He growled—feeling pleasure as he imagined that person who had done this to him screaming in hell because his beloved niece was being targeted by Spiderman.
Here we go again.
He feels the chemicals kicking in—It's getting heavy, it gets heavier when his eyes can't stop looking at you. His heart felt like it was pounding hard every time it beat, he let out a stifled groan as he stepped back. Breathless like a hungry wild animal, teeth grinding tightly. When a pair of hands reached towards his face—costume particles on his face vanished, those palms covered his entire face as if restraining themselves from staring at you for too long. His mouth seemed to snarl aggressively, recalling all the events that burdened his life even more—the responsibilities of being a leader, managing negligence of his organization members, facing rebellion from teenager who refused to listen to his words—all merging into one heavy burden.
After remembering all of that, Miguel let out a sarcastic and pathetic laugh. He turned his head, staring at his reflection in the standing mirror you placed near bedroom door—when both of his hands moved down, he could see a bright red light in both of his pupils. His fangs were clearly visible—sweat trickling down lines of his cheeks. His pupils began to tremble as he recalled how easily his temper would flare after faced all of this mess.
His reflection will become his worst nightmare and, in the future, it will become your nightmare too.
Hair he had neatly styled back looked quite messy when one of his hands unconsciously ruffled it, but he no longer cared—he admired how broken he was now yet still kept trying. When he feels the effect he experiences every time he sees you, he unconsciously considers it as one of his hopes to keep trying.
Whatever happened, he was angry and that anger peaked when his fierce gaze turned towards you, his mouth grinning with wide-open eyes. You just met him, but Miguel has known you for years. He observed everything—you should be grateful because you are able to be bound by him.
Every word you say,
Every game you play,
Every smile you fake,
Every claim you stake.
"Can't you see—"
Miguel growled louder. Whispering with a body daring to approach you. He sat on the edge of your bed—one of his hands reached for you as if wanting to grab you, but those fingers ended up brushing away strands of hair that were blocking your face. His smirk darkened further, his eyes widening while crimson pupils shrinking as if losing their sanity. Too bad until he didn't let his own AI program, Lyla, interfere with his actions now. To restore his fuckin' common sense.
"You belong to me?"
His laughter echoed after discovering innocence side in your expression—he clicked his tongue as if sensing taste there while looking at you. You even didn't wake up when his hand lifted one of your arms upwards. He directed your hand to the side until your body shifted position to lie on your back. You only let out a soft groan, but you are still sleeping so deeply. Your face is turned to the side—unintentionally exposing how beautiful shape of your neck is. To him, your freak stalker.
"So take it easy on me, El engaño." He became bolder—grabbing your body with both hands, and he knew there was no one who would save you. Including your boyfriend whom you love so much.
You will know sooner or later—you and Miguel will have each other. If you don't want to, you have to kill yourself because he will never let you go. You are the reason he can still act sane out there because you are the one who will face his madness. Ah, he knows you won't like all of this, maybe you'll end up hating him and cursing everything that happens because of his actions. What else can you and him do? Everything happened because of your uncle, that wretched man, ever since you received that serum injection and he had the incident that made him like this—
You both seem to have signed a forbidden contract.
Miguel let out a long moan as his hand held your back to keep you in a sitting position while the other hand held back of your head to prevent it from falling. He was amazed by the medicine he used on you—you were not immune at all, and in fact, effects of this medicine worked even more intensely.
Finally, after all these years, he can touch and breathe you like this. His mouth drew closer—worshipping how delightful your scent was and how smooth your skin felt. He let out a sinful smirk as his lips brushed against your neck. His hand slipped in after lifting your nightgown up from behind—exploring your back as if quenching his thirst. Every time the friction of his lips made you let out a soft sound, Miguel felt his lust more wild like a wolf.
But, he must be careful, no matter how strong his desire to bite you because of this bond—he still can't leave a mark on your body. He now gives repeated kisses on every spot he feels you deserve, and when he reaches near your jaw—his tongue extends out, slightly licking you there. He closed his eyes, his heart beating so contentedly as if all the chemicals were evaporating so quickly from inside. Touching you is the best decision—his patience was rewarded, unlike the patience he extended to those who judged his morals.
Miguel believes you are different and you will accept him even if it's forced.
You reflexively moan, again and again, every time he touches you. Of course, your body reacts that way because of the effect between two of you, and that reality is making Miguel gradually lose control. You are unconscious, but your body and mouth accept him as he is.
"I'll hurt you and you'll hurt me." Miguel reminds you.
He laid you back down again, but he would not forget the moment when his lips briefly touched yours, not long but significant—like erasing the sin he had just committed against you. He knew he was only burdening it with a new sin, but as long as his fingers didn't go numb when touching you, he wouldn't resist his own desires. He climbed onto the bed with a pair of hands lifted your nightgown higher—releasing short hisses and heavy moans, his neck becoming sweatier as his hands raised your bra so your breasts gently shook when released.
Both of his cheeks were slightly flushed—unaware a smirk still lingered at the corner of his lips, he squinted his eyes slightly with a more hurried breath. Your face is still sleeping so innocently—your hand lying beside your head as if you won't be able to resist him. When his palm squeezes your breast, you only respond with a spoiled sigh and a brief whimper in a sleeping position and considering what you are experiencing as part of your vulgar dream.
This is what Miguel wants.
Someone who obeys, whether consciously or unconsciously, never opposes and always follows his desires—either unwilling or unable to argue with him.
This will be his greatest sin.
Miguel removed all the particles of his costume—he was completely naked on top of you, his cock free and gently hitting his abdomen. It looks tense. You made his cock so hard in an unconscious state, fuck, and he became more impatient, as seen from movement of his hands widening distance between your legs—his fingers hooking onto side of your underwear and pulling it down. He bit bottom of his lip, finding your cunt producing quite a bit of fluid. Shit, shit, your body really accepted him and he will continue to believe it even if it ends up being his silly delusion.
"You're killing me now." He blames you for his current condition—his hands lifting your body after he knelt between your legs, lifting you from below your knee.
Once again, he doesn't want to take any risks, you might be lucky—Miguel won't hit your cunt with his cock tonight, but he will act selfishly and satisfy himself. He positioned his hard cock over your cunt, watching your half-naked body with excited breaths as he lifted your legs higher—inner sides of your thighs squeezing and providing a tight sensation for his cock. Every time it rubs against your clitoris and sides of your thighs, he lets out a louder and heavier moan—getting faster as your moan is heard stifled from deep within your throat.
You also experience pleasure when side of its cock rubs against your clitoris.
He raised his head, looking towards ceiling of your room—his hips began to move aggressively as he found the rhythm of pleasure every time he quickened his movements. He clicked his tongue occasionally, feeling his actions were quite wrong, but he quickly dismissed it with a hoarse laugh—deciding to liven up this room with erotic moans, your soft sighs, and wet sounds caused by your juices. He closed his eyes tightly with one hand ruffling top of his hair quickly, short and hurried breaths reminding him of his own climax process.
As he felt his climax starting to peak, he slowly lowered your legs. One hand moved quickly to stroke his needy cock. Crimson pupils looked murky but he grinned darkly again as he saw your helpless body—tip of his cock aimed right at your stomach, and as he let out a broken and erotic moan, his strokes became so fast for a few seconds, ended with him ejaculating right on your stomach.
Semen fills your stomach and your body's reaction has calmed down since his cock moved away from your clitoris in a pitiful state. A slight throb, but didn't reach a climax.
He has lost his mind now, whistling in awe with a victorious grin, his pupils glancing downward as his chest regulates tempo of his breath—admiring the scene he has created with fingers spreading his sperm on your stomach. The darkness of the room cast a shadow that covered the right half of his face—only revealing red light in those pupils. Everything he has gone through and still lingers will indeed remain in his mind, now, you are caught in the circle of madness he has created for you.
Waiting for the time, you will feel what Miguel feels.
Together.
While he satisfies himself by spreading his sperm on your stomach before putting everything back to normal—he starts thinking about how you will be completely trapped in his snare.
You can consider him as ruining your life or, if you're a good girl, you consider him as giving you a better life.
"Say goodbye to my heart tonight."